Plebs (2013) s04e02 Episode Script

The Critic

1 Welcome to the Crown And Toga.
Thank you for coming in.
Please do take a seat.
Cool, thank you.
So, Pia, how did you hear about the waitressing position? Oh, yeah, well, I was sunbathing down by the river, and he, that one, lay down beside me and said I would be perfect for it.
Did he now? And do you have any experience - in the service industry? - No, I'm a model.
- Perfect.
- Hm.
What about, how are you with taking down orders? Yeah, I'm actually illiterate.
So, not great? Well, she can just remember the orders.
Oh, no, I've got a shocking memory, but I suppose I could draw little pictures of them, maybe.
Perfect! And, Pia, tell me, how do you stay in such great shape? I run a lot and swim.
- Perfect.
- Utterly irrelevant.
Yeah, I've got a question.
What's your favourite bit of a chicken to eat? Hm, I guess the meat.
Hm, well, I think we've heard enough.
We'll let you know.
We'll let you know right now.
You got the job! Oh, amazing! - What? Hang on.
- We need to discuss it, mate.
She's perfect.
Anyway, front of house is my domain.
So, well done, Pia.
You smashed it.
Ooh! Ohh! Yeah! When in Rome Do as the Romans do Far from home All I got is you - It looks like a severed hand.
- Yes, I don't remember putting "severed hand" on the menu.
Oh, this is jizz.
She needs to do better drawings or I won't know what I'm cooking.
All right, chill.
Why are you two bagging her out? Because she's thick and lazy and under-qualified.
But apart from that, she's perfect.
Excuse me, I'm still waiting for my sausage and mash over here.
Ah, that's what it is.
It's actually quite obvious when you know.
Yeah, sorry, we've got problems with the new waitress.
So, have I, mate.
You should have hired me.
I'm charming, literate.
I'm incredibly hard-working.
Wouldn't be paying me to stand around twiddling my hair.
Yeah, can you stop her doing that and get her to take the rubbish out? Ugh! One sausage and mash, then, Chef.
- I'd rather cook a severed hand.
- Oh, please don't you start, Grumio.
How can we make a splash on the Roman food scene if you won't let me serve my funky new menu? Which menu is this? Dishes only beginning with the letter Q? No, I've gone off that one.
It's basically just quiche.
The new menu's called Stuffing Stuff In Stuff.
So, it's like a mouse inside a grouse or a squid inside a squirrel.
Hm, OK, that sounds far too funky.
We're sticking with classic pub fare.
Classic pub unfair, more like.
I'm the chef.
I should get to decide.
And I'm the one who spent every last sesterce he has on this toilet, Grumio, so I get to decide.
If you wanna shove a frog inside a dog, do it on your own time.
Yeah, well, I might, actually, cos that is one of my dishes.
I just don't like touching rubbish.
I find it gross.
Yeah, completely.
I mean, it's rubbish, innit? That is like so clever, because it is rubbish and it's rubbish.
I'll take this out, shall I? Yeah, cheers.
Cos Mario is always saying that about sweets.
Cos they're called sweets and they're sweet.
I'd never really thought of that.
- Sorry, who's Mario? - My fiance.
- Ah, perfect.
- Yeah.
Perfecto.
- Ah! - Oh, watch out for the cobble.
Yeah, maybe warn people before they trip over it in future.
Mm, are you the new owner of the toilet, are you? Bar.
It's a bar now.
And we are trying to attract some customers, so if you could not peg up your pants so near our door.
Oh, they're not mine.
Clearly, look at the size of them, you cheeky bastard.
Right, well, either way.
This is my laundrette.
I'm Gloria.
Ah, OK, I'm Marcus.
Hello.
This is where you always hang up your washing, - is it, Gloria? - Yeah, that's right.
In fact, I was gonna ask, do you mind if I pop round later and take the piss? Sorry, the, uh? Urine from your loos.
I need the ammonia to wash the clothes, you see.
- I used to just help myself.
- Yeah, I kinda do mind you taking the piss, actually.
I mean, if you really need it, I can maybe do you a deal.
A deal, for piss? Are you serious? Well, I'm sorry, but business isn't booming right now.
Oh, you'll be all right.
It's only one review.
It's not gonna kill you.
- Sorry, how do you mean? - I think you can trust people to make up their own minds before Oh, you've not seen it, have you? One.
One fork.
One forking fork.
- Well, what's it out of? - Well, five, clearly.
Oh, fine, I thought it was out of ten.
- So, who is this Athena, anyway? - Who's Athena? That's Athena Balvantius, mate, the biggest food critic in Rome.
And she came to our bar? That's pretty cool.
It is in no way cool.
It is a total bloody disaster.
Yeah, which is all your fault for not letting me stuff stuff in stuff.
No, it is your fault for failing to nail the pub classics like I said.
And poor service will definitely have been a factor.
And so will atmosphere, which is total spuzz, thanks to you weirding the place out with your beard.
Oh, blaming customers' beards now.
Classy.
Grr! Why did she do this to us? We weren't ready to be criticised.
Sod her.
I'll just paint over it.
She can go and fork herself.
Oh, no, I wouldn't do that.
She'd kick up a stink.
Only Athena can take it down.
Let's just find her and charm/bully her into doing that.
Find her? Find her? How? I bet she's some reclusive little hermit weirdo.
Far from it, actually.
She's quite the woman about town.
I know that she takes afternoon tea every day in the Forum.
- How do you know all this shit? - I'm a huge gourmand.
Yet another reason why you should have hired me.
OK.
Come on, let's get her, then.
Yeah.
Jason, you hold the fort, maybe teach Pia to read.
Nah, I think you were right about her.
Yeah, should have hired someone else.
- Finally he admits it.
- OK, you deal with that, seeing as front of house is your domain.
Oh, hey, what do I do if we get busy? Somehow I don't think that's gonna be a problem.
How will we know which one's her? We'll take a punt, I reckon.
Hi, there.
Hello.
Athena, is it? No, I shan't review your little pop-up waffle shack.
Now run along and leave me to my cake.
No, it's not that.
We're from the Crown And Toga.
You actually reviewed us already.
And gave us one fork, you spiteful shit.
No, no, Grumio.
Sorry about him.
He's upset.
You know how chefs get.
But we were wondering if you could maybe remove it.
We've only just opened and weren't quite ready to be forked like that.
One fork? One fork, let me see.
Deathly quiet pub cafe, sluggish service, stench of faeces.
- Is that you? - Mm-hm, yeah, that's us.
The place used to be a bog.
That explains why the food was so bog standard.
Sausage and mash, pie and peas, beans on whatever next? Toast.
No, I'm sorry, it's a critic's job, nay, duty, to protect the public from such insipid dreck.
That's his dreck, not mine.
I don't wanna cook that cack but he's been forcing me.
- Well, I'm sorry to hear that.
- I've got big ideas, absolute whoppers, but this stingy sod's all about playing it safe.
Constraint of creativity by penny-pinching Philistines is the worst crime in all humanity.
Completely.
You're bang on, love.
Listen, give us another go.
I know tasty, OK? I live and breathe food and eat it, obviously.
- Hm.
- I'll blow your buds to bits.
I promise.
Well, as it happens, I have had a cancellation for tonight.
- Tonight? That's a - You're on.
Expect me at seven.
This time be ready.
So, Daphne, first things first.
Are you single? Yes, I single.
- Perfect.
- Is that seriously your first question? Actually, it's my only question.
Well, I'm also single and I've got supremely steady hands owing to years of experience dispensing water for a major grain company.
I don't care, cos I wanna hire Daphne.
- Yes, please.
- Yeah.
- At least give me an interview.
I'm clearly the best man for the job.
I don't want a man for the job.
A-ha! That's discrimination, then, because of my gender.
And your personality.
I'm gonna consult the statutes, maybe talk to a tribune.
Ho, ho, ho! You're in big trouble now, new guy.
Big trouble.
What other animals fit in animals? Hm, is this definitely how we should be planning our menu? I want it to sound right an' all, like a herring inside a heron.
OK, cos that sounds really wrong.
You don't get creativity, mate.
It's like Athena said, you're a pen-pushing paedophile.
A penny-pinching Philistine.
And I'm not, actually.
I just don't want us to bugger this up.
We've already buggered it up, thanks to you.
Tonight's my turn.
Can hardly get any worse, can it? Ugh! Fine.
How about a sausage in a partridge? In an ostrich, a triple-stuffer.
Now we're cooking.
And who's that, please? Yeah, that's Greta.
I hired her a couple of hours ago.
And that's Daphne, over by the door.
And Pia, of course, you already know.
So, we've now got three waitresses? Yeah, well, Pia's got a boyfriend, so I had to hire Daphne, but we don't really click.
Know what I mean? So I got Greta, who's cool, but I think she's a lesbian.
- I'll just get another one tomorrow.
- What? No, you won't.
I meant you could hire someone instead of, not as well as, her.
You can't keep hiring more and more waitresses until you find one who'll sleep with you.
Oh, right.
Look, I genuinely didn't realise that.
- You'll have to get rid of them.
- What? No, that's well awks.
Firing is not really my thing.
Well, so I see, but our staff-to-customer ratio hardly screams success, does it? Table for one, please.
I do hope you can squeeze me in.
Fire them all now.
Athena, such an honour to have you back with us.
Stuffing Stuff In Stuff? It's a meditation on nature and the brutal logic of the food chain.
And seeing what things I can fit inside other things.
- And specifically that, yes.
- It's 12 courses.
A 12-course tasting menu, golly! Well, no, they're full plates.
It's more of a 12-course eating menu.
Starting with our first course, a squid in a squirrel.
Goodness me, I didn't expect that.
Neither did the squirrel.
Enjoy.
So? How's it going down? Well, she's cleared her plate.
Look, you'd struggle to get any more off that wren.
- Or the hen.
- Wow.
You know, I thought this menu was the stuff of a lunatic's nightmare but it turns out you might be an OK chef, after all.
Let's just hope she's left room for afters.
Your final course, a plum in a peach in a pie in a pud.
Athena? Well, that's one way of eating it.
You total twat, Grumio! This is what happens when you insist on stuffing everything in everything.
Steady on.
You said I were an OK chef a minute ago.
Well, a fair bit's changed since then.
A critic has died, which is the worst review she could have possibly given.
It's not just his food, though.
Look at her, she's a heart attack waiting to happen.
Well, this was certainly the 12-course eating menu that broke the camel's back.
So should we go and tell a grown-up? - Yeah, I'll get a centurion.
- Whoa! Hang on.
- Why would you call the fuzz? - Why wouldn't we call the fuzz? Brother, if word gets out that we're stuffing people to death, then our business is deader than she is.
Now, do you want this bar to work or not? What have you got in mind? Ooh.
Ooh! That's good.
I know, and she never got to try it.
That's the real tragedy here.
Oh, holy crap, she's heavy.
Oh, I can't do this.
I'm knackered from stuffing stuff in stuff.
No.
No, you do not, Grumio.
We need all hands on deck here.
Right, I've checked the sexual discrimination statutes and apparently I don't have a case.
What's going on? Yeah, how much do you want that job? Oh, Jove, what am I doing? Ssh! Keep it down, Aurelius.
Two things I promised my father.
Never buy anything on credit and never get mixed up in a murder.
- Stop saying murder.
It were an accident.
- Exactly.
All above board.
So why are we dumping her body in the woods, then? Holy Jove, I'm going to Hades for this.
I suspect you were going there anyway.
She's a critic.
It's not like anyone's gonna miss her.
Yeah, good riddance, I say.
If you give my grub a one-fork review, - then this is what you get.
- Ooh, that's a point.
You can paint over it now, then nobody will know how bad our bar is until they're inside it.
See? It's all coming together.
Here you are, this'll do.
One, two, three and ditch the witch! And cover her with leaves? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, just play it cool.
Ah! Sorry, sorry.
Oh, God, I'm still thinking about her, you know? I close my eyes and all I can see is her face.
- Her big dead face.
- Don't close your eyes, then.
Hey, you open? Gloria! Hey! Hello.
Yeah What can we get for you? Yeah, look, I know what you boys are up to.
- What? What do you mean? - I saw what you did.
It was nothing to do with me.
I can get money.
Outside, fixing that review.
Oh, thank Jove.
Oh, yes, apparently the one-fork thing was actually a mistake, so they decided to take it down.
But they didn't, did they? "They" upgraded it from one fork to six.
Six? Wow! That is Is that how many they've given us? That's tremendous.
Well, maybe that's just what we deserve.
Yeah, be careful, I would.
Other bars round here wouldn't be too happy to know you've been faking your reviews.
If someone were to tell them, of course.
Uh you can have the piss for free from now on, if you like.
Uh, we don't have much stock at the moment, but we can have a sort of whip round, if that'll, you know? What? Shut me up? Yeah, all right, then.
Bring it round later, there's a love.
- Because it's out of five.
- So? So six forks isn't possible, is it? I think it is, mate.
You're looking at it.
No, but I mean five is perfect, so how can you have six? Cos this is like perfect, but then one better.
Yeah, like seven would be perfect, but two better.
- Shall I change it to seven? - Maybe.
No, stop adding forks.
Just paint over the last couple, if anything.
Go with four, a nice, solid, unsuspicious four.
- Look, here it is.
- Oh, ya! - I told you it's for real.
- Mm.
Hello, hi, can we help you? Ah-ha, we've heard that Athena's given her first ever six-forker and we wanna check it out.
Yeah, I was just saying how unusual that is.
I know, and in such a bandit part of town.
It must be off the hook.
- This the queue, darling? - You are the queue, darling.
- Head on in.
- Marvellous.
Good to see you.
Oh! I honestly don't recognise this place with like people in it.
I know, I mean, where did the bongo guy come from? I think when bars get this popular, bongo guys just appear.
And there have been no complaints about the food.
Not a peep.
These goons would eat a spunk sandwich if it was well reviewed.
Two more snail quail thingies for table six.
Ah, for crying out loud! I'm run off my feet here.
They won't stop ordering.
Yes, that is the idea.
All right, look, I've been thinking, maybe you were right.
Six forks is too many, in't it? We should probably change it to four, or, you know, three's fine.
Oh, don't be coy, Grumio.
You wanted to make a splash, didn't you? Well, now you have, so you better learn to swim.
- Hm! - Yes, one second.
Oh! Ah, sorry, sorry.
Stop doing that.
We're gonna run out of plates.
I know, I'm sorry, it's just people keep asking about Athena, where she sat and what she ordered.
And she's dead.
Athena's dead, Marcus, in a fucking ditch! Now you made me touch your manky beard.
Sorry, you shouldn't have had to do that.
What are we gonna do? Can't have this gibbering wreck around.
- It's too risky.
- Put him in the kitchen.
- He can stuff stuff with Grumio.
- Thank you, yes, I agree.
Well, hang on, who's gonna cover for him on the floor? You are, for a bit, whilst I hire a new waitress.
Ugh! Is that a good plan? I've got a fool-proof system this time.
- I'll get the perfect match.
- That wasn't my main worry.
You'll be fine.
These lot think bad service is part of the charm.
OK, then, girls, question number three, are you single? If the answer's no, take a step back.
Yeah, sorry, I really don't think this is an acceptable way to conduct a job interview.
And you can take a step back too.
OK, here we go with question number four, do you fancy men/me? If the answer's no, then back you go.
OK, part B, would you still fancy me if you knew I had quite large nipples for a man? All right, no, no, fair enough.
You'd have found out eventually.
Know what I mean? OK, question number five Now! It's ready! Service! - Yeah, just one second.
- Excuse me! Yeah, sorry, Jason's still not back.
Table six wants one wren in hen and one marrow in sparrow, by the way.
Have they not missed last orders? Last orders? It's only eight o'clock.
Oh, for - Where's my entree for table four? - It's coming.
- It's coming what? - It's coming, Chef.
What are you doing? Stuffing a mouse in a goose? - Is that not right, Chef? - The mouse goes in the grouse.
The moose goes in the goose, you fucking numbskull.
I thought the moose and the grouse - I'm sorry, Chef.
- Oh, you're sorry, are you? I don't want sorry.
We can't serve sorry, can we? - Can we?! - I don't understand the question.
- Can we serve sorry? - I think no, Chef? No, Chef, so shape up or ship out, you useless streak of shit.
Yes, Chef.
Right, pass me a sparrow.
Is this the sparrow or the wren? Are you fucking kidding me? - So, this is the place.
- Wonderful.
Ah.
At last.
You took your time.
Sorry, I couldn't choose between the final two.
So, it went down to a sudden-death tiebreaker.
- I really don't care.
- Cool.
- This is Sandra, the winner.
- Hi.
- You up for getting started? - I'm up for anything.
- Ah! - Whoa, what are you doing out here? I can't take it any more.
Grumio, Chef, is gonna kill me.
- As if he is.
- He's killed before.
He's gonna chop me up and stick me in a pie.
Ah, he'd never put a man in a pie.
It doesn't rhyme.
- He might put you in a flan.
- Don't make me go back in there.
I'll tell a centurion.
I will.
I'll confess everything.
Whoa! Hey, no.
You're not squealing on us, all right? No way.
- I just need this to be over.
- We're in this together, OK? - Just get back in the kitchen.
- No! Get off me! Excuse me, can I just Argh! Ah, it's her.
Oh, shit.
Can anyone else see that? No, out! Spirit, be gone! I am no spirit.
I am Athena Balvantius, food critic of Rome.
Having awarded this toilet of a restaurant one fork, I graciously agreed to give them another chance.
I was then fed a meal so dangerously dense, it near killed me.
I awoke to find my hosts had left me for dead in a ditch and revised my review from one to six forks, which is not only disgraceful but mathematically absurd.
Yeah, I did tell him that.
You good people must not eat here.
The owners are crooks and cheats and the food is a rank abomination.
She's right, this place is shit.
I hereby amend my review to no forks.
Well, I'm gonna stop stuffing, then.
And we no longer need Sandra.
No.
Come on, really? Do it.
Question number nine, would you still fancy me if I said you were fired? Oh.
Wow! That is a lot of piss.
You lucked out.
During our period as one of Rome's hottest gastropubs, we filled a lot of bladders.
Well, much obliged.
- Shit, careful on the - Argh! Ah! Ah! I swallowed some.
I came, I saw, I conquered I came, I saw, I conquered I came, I saw, I conquered Can I conquer you? Gotta believe I came, I saw, I conquered I came, I saw, I conquered I came, I saw, I conquered Can I conquer you? Can I conquer Gotta conquer Need to conquer you, you, you