Still Open All Hours (2013) s04e01 Episode Script

Series 4, Episode 1

BELL JINGLES ELECTRONIC VOICE: Merry Christmas.
Me-rry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
He's not pulling his weight, is he? They're just ignoring him.
HE SIGHS Right.
I'll shake 'em up.
Right, come on, get him back inside.
BELL JINGLES Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas! Hey, I've heard bad things about his Christmas crackers.
They're damp or something - they don't go bang.
Bang! Argh! Plenty more surprises inside Santa's grotto.
A Merry Christmas to you too, Granville.
HE YAWNS COINS CLINK TILL RATTLES It's all right - wait for it, wait for it! Thank you.
Ah-ha! All right, all right.
Calm down, calm down.
BELL RINGS Just Just What big teeth you've got, Arkwright.
He's moody cos you bought all these cheap crackers we can't sell.
Yes, but have you felt the weight of these? They're solid.
None of your flimsy rubbish, these.
Oh, they smell musty.
Yeah, well, so does that Mr Hewlett, but he's a good customer.
It's not him, it's his old overcoat.
They ALL smelt musty.
I think they were born musty in their day.
They had no central heating, you see? Neither do I.
You, you're overheated already.
Come on, let's pull one of these.
It'll only cost you 10p.
No, come on.
Right, there you go.
Good, solid British workmanship, isn't it? How is anyone going to pull these at the dinner table? You're not giving it any welly, are you? I am! POP! What sort of pitiful noise was that?! Considerate.
We'll sell these as novelty crackers for those of a nervous disposition, guaranteed not to make you jump.
Left a bit.
No, not that much.
That's it.
Oh! You seem to be a smile short of a Merry Christmas, Mr Newbold.
People keep saying, "Merry Christmas.
" That's because they've only got a partridge in their pear tree.
I've got a vulture.
All I know is some people are going to be alone this Christmas.
Ah, and you're sparing a thought for them? That's very Sally Army.
Lucky devils.
My problem is I'm not going to be one of them, unless .
.
unless I can make a break for it.
Make a break for it?! No What, abandon the good widow Featherstone? I don't think that's a good idea, Mr Newbold.
I've made up my mind.
I'm doing a runner this Christmas.
Oh, no, that's a bad move.
Bad move, Mr Newbold.
Why? Well Yes, I was wondering that! Er, what is your star sign? Are you a believer? I'm inclined to think there's something in it.
Well, it brought you two love birds together, didn't it? If it did, I want a refund.
Oh It's Pisces.
It's Pisces.
Do you know, I actually saw something about that this very morning.
Pisces, yes, it was.
It said, oh, yes .
.
"If you're Pisces, stay at home "At Christmas time you ne'er should roam "To ignore this advice if duty calls "Will make your Christmas a load of" I had a dream about you last night.
And what it was, there was this mysterious figure, and it was saying .
.
"Turn again, Mr Newbold.
"Get thee home!" I think he means it.
I think our Mr Newbold will be heading for foreign parts.
It's at times like this you're supposed to say something encouraging.
Well, how about I wish both you and Mrs Featherstone every happiness? Aw, thank you! You can chase her away an' all.
Chase something like that away? Be against my principles.
It's bad for business.
Looks pretty good for everything else.
Don't make me too desirable.
It'll only unsettle Mr Newbold.
He does a good unsettled - it's in his eyes.
They seem to be looking for something.
Love, possibly? Well, he'll just have to wait.
It could be Man's eternal search for understanding.
I was thinking more along the lines of the nearest exit.
Well, I can't think why.
I treat him with every consideration short of matrimony.
You do have the effect of unnerving people.
If you've got a talent, use it.
Credit where it's due.
I used to be nervous until I gave it up for panic.
You should learn to be nastier.
You know I'm always available for advice.
I think being nervous is good for husbands.
It suits Eric.
He's so much easier to live with when he thinks I know more than I do.
They function better when they're nervous.
Oh, no, I don't mean better - what do I mean? Less demanding.
Well, I must say, Mr Newbold does seem a bit agitated.
Are you too rich for his diet? He'll be fine.
You've just got to keep the balance between their fear of you and their urge to chase you upstairs.
Has Mr Newbold ever? Not yet, but we'll see what happens when I hide his stamp album.
What? What do you mean, "what"? Don't you think you're asking to be stared at? Listen who's talking.
What about that thing you're riding? I know.
It embarrasses me, too.
Go away.
I'm busy.
You're just standing there.
For a purpose! Not to be chatted up.
Don't flatter yourself.
I have fully upped all my chatters for this week.
Go away.
Can I stay if I'm vegetarian? Are you vegetarian? No, but I'm easily led.
There's no point hanging around.
I'm not interested in boy/girl games.
I think it's only fair to warn you, I've got typhoid.
What, you're not going to tell me your name? No! Suits you.
GRUNTING Merry Christmas, get a hernia! I'm sorry, but there is no way I'm wasting my substance for this.
You could pull something vital.
And for what? Every Christmas, people die from overeating.
How big a fool are we going to look if we die from overcrackering? Come here.
You two, you're a pair of wusses! I've seen it coming.
You've lost your elbow smarts, haven't you, eh? Your elbows, your elbows have turned to jelly.
It's a bone.
How can it turn to jelly? He's right, feel this elbow.
It's a rock.
Yes, but is it the sensual magnet that it should be? When was the last time it pulled any passion your way? Hmm? Elbows are a sensual magnet? You didn't know? No, we didn't know, and nobody else knows either.
Oh! You tell that to the ancient Greeks! Hey? Oh! To them, it was the G spot.
The powerhouse to joy and attraction.
Well, I know if you bang it, it makes your eyes water.
There you are! Yes, that's the clue, in't it? Just think of all those nerve endings in there, allwaiting to be aroused.
I passed Mr Newbold in the street.
He IS nervous.
He was talking to himself.
I said, "Hello, Mr Newbold.
" He said, "Why didn't I take that opportunity to move to Bridlington?" When did YOU have an opportunity to move to Bridlington? I hope he's NOT thinking of moving to Bridlington.
I spent my first honeymoon in Bridlington.
I enjoyed the show at the spa.
I lost Eric once in Bridlington.
I doubt it'd work a second time, though.
I like second times.
It's the first I usually get wrong.
I thought that was only me.
When are you closing, Madge, for the holidays? Oh, just Christmas and Boxing Day.
Oh, it'll be a break for you.
It will THIS year.
We're going to a hotel.
"We"? As in, "Oh, by the way, Mavis, we're going to a hotel?" I thought I'd surprise you.
We're going to be waited on hand and foot.
Oh, I don't want anybody waiting on my foot.
You've heard of Dionysus, haven't you? There's a Dinsdale in Travis Street.
He means the Greek god, Dionysus.
The worshippers of Dionysus used to hold these, um, secret midnightwhoopee sessions.
Of course, forbidden to non-believers.
So, how do YOU know about it, then? Hmm? Oh, well, the Grocers Federation hold an annual re-enactment somewhere down there near Pontefract.
Just how big is the whoopee? You have to be there.
And what do they do at these, erwhoopee sessions? What they used to do is they .
.
nudge each other with their elbows, right .
.
until they reached forbidden heights ofecstasy.
Hey! Hey! I don't want to go away for Christmas.
We're going.
We're going to be spoiled for once.
I don't like hotels.
There's always some sour face at reception who knows you've never been further than Rochdale.
He really destroyed your confidence, didn't he? Well, you're unmarried now, you're not under his thumb any more - you're under mine.
I'm joking.
You're a free human being.
Suppose the menu is in French? They'll tell us what it is in English.
But they'll know we'd really rather have chips.
I hope you're not lying to me about this poor animal we need to rescue.
We're going there now.
I can just see it, gratefully licking your hand.
If it was me, I'd start on your ear.
Oh! Help me out of this thing.
What are you doing for Christmas? Nothing that involves you.
Hold this thing still while I get out.
Why get out? I could take you home.
In this?! OK, I'll drop you off somewhere near.
What do you want from me? Do you really think we're going to have a romance when you've got bits of flesh stuck in your teeth? I floss! I've toyed with Marmite.
Do you think she's wise, encouraging a man under her bonnet? You find them in funnier places than that.
Not if you keep your defences up.
Try that now.
ENGINE STARTS Oh! My hero! No problem.
Oh, look at him.
He'd be impossible on white sheets.
Should you be thinking about men on white sheets? At my age, do you mean? You may run out of steam but the ensuing technical problems are not without interest.
Here we go.
Dr Proctor's Elbow Restorer.
There you are.
Just a few drops, rub them in thoroughly.
Then what magic happens? As much as you can handle.
Once the power of the elbow is unchained HE CHUCKLES .
.
for £7.
95.
It says here on the bottle, "For strains and bruises.
" Yes, and you'll see why, once your explosion of madness is over.
Question.
Go ahead.
How gullible do you think your customers are? I'm still in business - that ought to tell you something.
Well, we'll grant you points for a nice try.
Come on.
Oh, erjust a moment, just a moment.
Am I picking up signals that you don't believe in the erotic power of the elbow? BOTH: Loud and clear.
OK, I'll tell you what, you hide behind there and you watch.
Prepare to be amazed.
There.
BELL RINGS Ah, Mrs Featherstone! Welcome to my humble establishment.
You'd be welcome at mine, Granville, if you play your cards right.
Now, I can't stop, I've got to rush back and arrange Mr Newbold's trimmings.
Ah! Um, I've left the list here and I'll come back for it later.
I'm sorry to rush off, it's against all my inclinations.
Oh, and they say there's no Father Christmas! DOOR OPENS MRS FEATHERSTONE: It's only I, Mr Newbold, don't be alarmed.
I'm sorry I'm late, but it got a bit, er, busy, at the shop.
What are you sitting on? It looks most uncomfortable.
Oh, this? It's a suitcase.
Yes, yes, I often sit on a suitcase.
I expect it comes from all those times when you had to sit on one to fasten it.
Must have got a taste for it.
Oh! Oh, naughty Mr Newbold! When I said come for Christmas, I meant dinner.
Of course, I suppose you could bring your pyjamas with you, just in case there are floods and blizzards and you can't get home.
You'll be away?! We're going to a hotel.
But they're full of germs and .
.
naughty old men.
Oh, it didn't say anything in the brochure.
It's not my idea.
I was hoping that we could, er Oh, me too.
Look, can't you lock Madge in the attic or somewhere? Not at Christmas.
I'll send someone in to feed her.
She'll only bite them.
I thought you might be here.
I need some help with the packing.
I can't pack for you because I don't know what you want to take.
I'm not right fussed about taking anything.
This is down to you.
Hmm?! It's nothing to do with me! Are you sure you're not Pisces? I haven't touched a drop all day! Looks like I'm going.
BIRDSONG Argh! Oh.
I thought I was being dragged in by your Leroy.
No, better luck next time.
No, come here, sit down.
Right.
Now, what do you hear? I don't know why you should be asking me! Hm? No, what do you know about Mr Newbold? He's got a bit in the Bradford & Bingley.
He once had a parrot.
His wife left him because of the visions.
He's very superstitious.
Visions? Mm-hm.
Whenever he drank too much sherry, he regularly saw a Christmas fairy.
What do you mean - a genuine, all whistles and bells, shiny Christmas fairy? Mm-hm.
Yes.
Although she sometimes looked like Mussolini.
With a wand? Very sparkly.
He believed that she guided him through that tricky situation.
He speaks of her still with affection.
I must get a large bottle of sherry for Mr Newbold.
But where am I going to find a Christmas fairy? What's wrong with your elbow? Wrong? I was just looking at it.
Oh, came over you all of a sudden, did it? "Oh, I must look at my elbow.
" It's MY elbow, Kath.
A guy's entitled to look at his own elbow.
So why are you looking so guilty about it? Oh, give me a break, woman.
What could possibly be guilty about an elbow? Hmm.
You've got me there.
But I believe you could be the first person in the universe to find something.
Here.
Right? I want you to take this to Mr Newbold.
Tell him it's a Christmas thank-you to some of our customers.
You're either feeling fast or there's a plot here somewhere.
Oh, no, don't you worry about that.
Just make sure that he has two drinks, maybe three drinks, right? Cos I want him in that festive condition known as .
.
"listening to the fairies".
I knew it.
There's a plot.
Yes! BELL JANGLES What? Do you like pantomime, Gastric? Oh! Who doesn't like pantomime? How would you like a leading role? Eh? Bright lights, glamour.
Could I be Dick Whittington? Well, you haven't got a cat.
But never mind, come inside, I'm sure that we can find something that'll make you shine.
Yes.
GRANVILLE CLEARS HIS THROA How much is this lot going to cost? Let's stop counting for once.
Push the boat out.
Oh, why am I thinking Titanic? We're going.
Nice surroundings, we'll have all our meals served.
I'll spill something.
There'll be a programme of events.
Entertainment! There'll be some fat bloke trying to kiss you.
Then I'll get you a thin one! You said bright lights and glamour.
Yep.
That is coming.
And you will have an electric wand.
You said a leading role.
Nobody said a word about a Christmas fairy.
Well, that's Madge's favourite part, isn't it? Tell him, Leroy.
Gets her every time.
Loves the bit where you save the life of our hero.
Who's our hero? Mr Newbold.
You're going to change the life of Mr Newbold.
With the wave of your electric wand.
Is that wise? Waving something about that's electric? You'll be wired to British Standards.
Your safety is our first concern.
The open road, Newbold, to some far solitude.
Just meand the wilderness.
Or I could go to my sister's.
Yes, yes, first my sister's, then the wilderness.
Anywhere but Mrs Featherstone's.
What That is frightening! That looks terrible.
What What are you supposed to be? Bog off.
Don't you recognise the Christmas fairy? She said "bog off" - what's so Christmassy about that? So? Bog off.
Oh, nice.
Very Christmassy.
Just get on your bike, otherwise she'll turn you into a frog.
Now, go on.
A technical point of order - where's her magic wand? Right, you get one wish.
Where would you like me to stick this? KNOCK AT WINDOW Remember me? Your Christmas fairy! Ye gods.
She's changed.
Heed the fairy's warning! Stay home, accept your feet.
Your fate.
Fate.
Oh, sorry.
Ugh! Turn again, Newbold.
Thrice Lord Mayor of London.
Stick to the script.
Well, who's interpretating this part? Get over there! Tell Fairy .
.
I have to do a runner.
Fairy? What fairy? Oh, didn't you see the fairy? No.
I think it's best .
.
if I went home.
Good choice, Mr Newbold.
Go on, read him the last bit.
Mussolini says hi! Is this really the Christmas when our Leroy went vegetarian? I can't see HIM giving up the flesh.
I wish Mr Newbold could see the Black Widow as ideal for airing his pyjamas.
We're not going away.
She's keeping an eye on Gastric - she found blonde hairs on his collar.
It's a wig! Is she giving him trouble? In buckets.
And he's loving it.
Merry Christmas, Mavis.
Merry Christmas, Granville.

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