The Inbetweeners s03e05 Episode Script

presents The Inbetweeners S03E05 "Home Alone" Weekends in suburbia are a great time to wash the car, mow the lawn or insult your children.
Right, we'll only be a couple of hours, try not to break anything.
Don't you want to take Benji? We're going to weed Granddad's grave, you moron.
Why would we want to take that shitting machine with us? - He likes the fresh air.
- So do my bollocks, it doesn't mean I take them out in graveyards.
Dickhead.
With his parents gone, Jay did what pretty much every male human does when they think they might get five minutes alone in the house.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn't alone.
He had company.
Fucking hell, Benji! Jay was into some pretty weird stuff, but even he drew the line at letting the family pet stare at his penis.
- Why didn't you just shut him out the room? - I tried that, but he goes mental, scratches at the door and howls.
That's even more distracting.
- Or you could take him to a dog training class? - I think they teach more, "Sit, stay, beg," not, "Stop watching me wank, you're putting me off.
" Why didn't you buy a PS3? Everyone knows that Wiis are for children and girls.
- And gays.
- Will, I'm just heading out Sorry, didn't realise you had friends round.
Hello, boys.
- Hi, Mrs McKenzie.
- Hello.
- All right? - I see you're enjoying Will's new W-I-I.
- It's called a Wii.
- It's pretty neat, isn't it? It's the only computer game I've ever been able to play.
- Would you like a game now, Mrs McKenzie? - No, I'm not very good.
Even Will can beat me.
- You must be terrible.
- I'll give you some tips.
With this one, the trick is to bounce around a lot.
- Is it? - Yeah, you really need to bounce up and down.
- OK, maybe, I'll give it a quick game.
- No, you definitely won't! - Did you want something? - Not really.
I'm just going away for the weekend and wondered if there was anything special - you wanted from Waitrose? - You're going away? Where? - To a friend's house in the Cotswolds.
- You don't have any friends in the Cotswolds.
- Yes, I do.
- Who? - Fergus.
- Sorry, who? Fergus.
We were friends at college and we've just recently caught up again on Facebooks.
You're going away with a Facebook stalker? Do you not watch the news? Where's he taking you, a ditch off the A40? I know you're upset, but try not to overreact.
Maybe we should talk about this later.
No, let's talk about it now in front of everyone! I've got nothing to hide, have you? Will, try and stay calm or you'll have an asthma attack - just like you did when we lost Teddy.
- OK, fine, yeah, we'll talk about it later.
For the record, it was an allergy, it wasn't Teddy's fault.
But luckily, the others didn't take the piss for too long, because they were obsessed with the really big news of the day.
With Will's mum on Facebook, that's tonight's wank lined up.
I doubt she's put anything too outrageous up there.
As long as it has the eyes.
Eyes is all I really need.
Why is she going away to get wrinkly old cock when she could stay at home and have my massive young pole? It's a mystery to me.
That is perhaps the greatest mystery of all time.
Oi, Neil.
Why do that? - It's just funny.
- And cool.
But that's someone's garden.
It's vandalism.
Nah, vandalism is like smashing in windows or something.
- This is just a laugh.
Give it a go, Si.
- Don't think so.
What, in case you go to prison for killing flowers? Don't worry, Si, it don't hurt them, they ain't got feelings.
Look.
I'll pass.
Good luck with the landscape gardening, - see you later.
- Where you going? Golf.
Got the father-son tournament at the weekend.
Golf?! Golf is for fat wankers in their 40s.
- You know what golf stands for? - No, what? Gay outdoor lifestyle with fellas.
Brilliant! Well, it's not as entertaining as playing with flowers, but I sort of don't care what you say, because it turns out I'm quite good at it and we might actually win.
Win! See you later, then.
Mate, that is too perfect.
- Nice! - What? Come on.
Listen, Tiger Wuss, you should probably get off, you won't like this.
Some flowers are about to get fucked up.
So while the other three were enjoying themselves, I was having a terrible week.
Finding out your mum is on Facebook is bad enough, but finding out she's using it to look for cock is beyond the pale.
Am I overreacting? I've never been introduced to even the notion of a boyfriend, I think I'm entitled to be reasonably defensive about him.
Neil, your parents have been divorced longer than mine, what was it like when your mum had her first boyfriend? It weren't too bad.
He was a bit like my dad.
She's got a type.
- Gays.
- Fuck off.
- It's still difficult though, isn't it? - Yeah, no, I understand.
Do you think this is the first knob she's had since your dad? Maybe we'll leave the heart-to-heart for now, then, Neil.
But we have established that this Fergus bloke is boning her? They're just going to Bath for the weekend, sightseeing.
The major sight being her tits in his mouth.
I think it's the Roman Baths, actually.
So, when should we come round for the party? Never? Come on, if your mum's going away, you've got to have a party.
No.
I'm not going to be one of these idiots who advertise a small gathering on Facebook, then 4,000 people turn up, the roof gets stolen and the next morning they are on the news saying, "Things just got out of hand.
" Plus, your mum would probably find out, now she's on Facebook.
Yeah, tell her she hasn't replied to my friend request yet.
Please stop looking at my mum on the internet, Neil.
Did a lot more than look at her last night.
- And that's an OK thing to say now, is it? - All right, let's keep this party simples.
Just us, a crate of vodka and a Jacuzzi full of clunge.
No parties and no imaginary orgies.
That's the last thing I need.
It's bad enough my mum's now practically internet dating.
McKenzie? Did you just say your mother is internet dating? Sort of.
Interesting.
I'm single at the moment, and she is very much my type.
OK Maybe you could set me up with her, and then who knows? If things go well, you could end up calling me Daddy.
Was this what you wanted to see me about, sir? No.
My office, now.
Great, now even the head of Sixth Form was doing jokes about my mum.
At least, I hoped he was joking.
As I'm sure you're aware, there's been a spate of vandalism recently, culminating in someone adapting the flower display by the main road so that it now reads, "We cum tit village.
" You think that's funny, do you, McKenzie? Well, a bit.
It doesn't even make sense! "We cum tit village"? What kind of morons would do that? I think you know exactly who did it.
What? I don't know, sir.
Honestly I don't.
Come on, McKenzie.
You're the sort of busybody that knows everything that's going on.
You can't resist getting that beak of yours into other people's business.
- Beak? - Yes, your beaky nose! And if you don't tell me who did it, in my role as your UCAS referee, I will fuck your application up.
I honestly don't know who did it! I don't! I would have grassed, you know I would have grassed, straightaway! Yes, that is true.
Well, you've got until Monday to find out or it's "Goodbye, first-rate education, "hello, the University of Lincoln".
This was serious.
I'd been to Lincoln, and it's a shit hole.
But luckily, I was about to take part in the shortest investigation ever.
- What did Gilbert want, then? - He thinks I know - who vandalised the roundabout.
- Maybe you do.
Oh, God, it was you two, wasn't it? I can't remember.
Was it us, Neil? - I can't remember, Jay.
- Yeah, it was us.
Fucking brilliant.
Well done, you morons.
- Thanks.
- You going to grass them up, then? - Yes! Of course! - Oh, Will! Fine! No, then! Yeah, hilarious, you vandalise something, I end up at the University of Lincoln.
- I'll tell you what will be hilarious.
- What's that? When Gilbert fucks your mum.
He will crush her.
Nah, her lovely big tits will cushion him, I reckon.
- Yeah, if he's on top.
- But what about from behind, Neil? Can you imagine the size of his bollocks? It'd be like two massive wrecking balls smashing against her arse.
- Lovely image.
- She's going to be a mess when he's finished with her.
Maybe he'll go twos-up with that Fergus bloke! What an enjoyable conversation this is about my actual mother.
Yeah, I bet she's getting a load right now.
She isn't, because she doesn't leave till tomorrow.
Simon, do you want to stay over? - What?! You said no-one was allowed round.
- It's for security reasons.
You mean you're too scared to sleep in the house on your own? - No! - I can't, sorry.
I've got the golf tournament at eight on Sunday, so I promised my dad I wouldn't be out late on Saturday.
Tell you what, Briefcase, I need a night away from the dog, so if you're going to be scared, I'll stay round.
I won't charge.
I just need some baby lotion and access to your mum's knicker drawer.
Well, it's a lovely offer, but I think I'll pass.
- Neil, are you around? - As long as I can bring my PS3 so we don't have to play those shit Wii games.
- Yeah, anything you like.
- How come he can fucking stay and I can't? Well, mainly because he's not planning to ejaculate over my mother's underwear.
I ain't promising nothing.
The next day, and my mum was all set to go.
Now, I'm not one for making rash judgements, but to me, Fergus looked like a massive ginger bell end with a stupid car, and I hated him.
The fridge is full, but if you need anything else, the Ocado account number is by the computer.
You are only going to be away for one night, aren't you? Probably.
I've left the heating on constant in case you get cold, and don't forget, Mrs Springett's got a key, so she'll be popping in to check you're OK.
I'll look forward to an unscheduled appearance from her, then.
Oh, and Neil, Will's a little bit stressed at the moment and me not being around might bring on one of his migraines.
If that does happen, there are special suppositories in the bathroom cabinet.
- Mum! - It's the only thing that works.
He's usually a bit sick, can't keep painkillers down.
- You just need to pop two in.
- In where? Well, they are suppositories, so in his bottom.
For a joke? No, to stop his headache.
Bye, petal.
Well, that is not happening.
Seriously, I don't care if you're dying, - I'm going nowhere near your arsehole.
- No, sure, fair enough.
OK, so they've gone, then.
That's actually happened.
Fine.
Come on, then, Neil.
Let's run through a few house rules.
Nothing too crazy - Shotgun your mum's bed.
- Right.
As Neil made himself very much at home, Jay had come up with a plan to put some distance between his sexual organs and the dog.
He'd temporarily lose Benji, run home and do what he had to do, do what he had to do again, and once more if it wasn't too painful, then head out with some "lost dog" signs and a £20 reward.
Unfortunately, Benji - a dog - was too smart for him.
Fucking hell, Benji! Back at mine, I was fighting a losing battle to house-train my new pet.
- Do you eat this much toast at home? - Will, what's this pesto? Is it for humans? No, it's for extraterrestrials, that's why we keep it in the fridge.
- Of course it's for fucking humans.
- Can you have it on toast? - Please use a plate.
- All right, gays.
- How did you get in? - Front door was open.
- Neil, did you leave the front door open? - Might have done.
- Do us some toast, Neil.
- All right.
Sorry, is there a sign outside by the permanently open front door saying, "This way to the toast bar"? Look, you're not even watching the TV.
All right, calm down, Home Alone.
It's just force of habit.
- Why are you even here? - I needed to get away from my place.
- The dog's driving me fucking mad.
- Because it stares at you while you masturbate? - Exactly.
- How long have you had him now? - About eight years.
- Has he always done it? No, of course he hasn't! I wasn't wanking a lot when I was ten, was I? I thought you got laid when you was nine? With a fit babysitter.
Yes, I did, Neil.
That was why I wasn't wanking so much.
Something must have started him off.
I think he might have chewed on a tissue under my bed and now he's got a taste for it.
Jesus, that's some acquired taste, dry Kleenex and your ejaculate.
- Here y'are, Jay.
- Cheers.
- Can you try and be a bit tidier, please? - I tell you what won't be tidy, your mum's tits.
I bet Fergus is covering them in spooge right now.
- Can we not talk about this? - Chuck us a drink, Neil.
No-one is chucking anything.
If you want a drink, then pour yourself a glass.
- The glasses are up there.
- God, it's like staying at The Ritz.
Famous for its "no chucking drinks or toast" policy.
- There's no fucking glasses.
- Try the dishwasher.
Oh, for God's sake! Right, we're going out.
- Out where? - I don't care.
Outside.
Out of here.
Fucking hell, I'll buy you a new glass if you're going to get so menstrual about it.
It's not about the glass.
You're like a plague of toast-eating locusts.
Fine, we'll go out.
Neil, I think it's time we took Will on a pussy patrol.
So I was taken along on the pussy patrol, and it was pretty much everything I dreamed it would be.
This is the pussy patrol, is it? Driving your mum's car very slowly round the estate? - Sometimes we go down the shops.
- Have you even got your licence? Provisional.
So all the time you've been driving, it's been illegal? Great.
It's fine.
If we get stopped, we just say I'm giving him a lesson.
You aren't allowed to give lessons till you've been driving for three years.
- No, you just say disabled, then it's allowed.
- Who's disabled? You or him? One of us.
You say it's a mental disablement.
- Yeah, I do a really good voice.
- Oh, well, I look forward to that.
Watch that squirrel, Jay.
Nah, he'll shit himself and jump out the way, they always do.
Hilarious! You just lost a game of chicken with a rodent.
- He's still there! He's mugging you off, mate! - Yeah, we'll see who's the chicken.
Oh, my God, he's jumped out the way.
He's made you look a right mug! Fuck this! Right.
Oh, God.
Oh, no! Why did you do that? Not so clever now, is he? Now who's the fucking mug? I don't think it was trying to make you look a mug, Jay.
- Fucking little piss-taker.
- I'll get a spade, we'll bury him.
Nah, fuck him! His eyes look sad.
Great.
So, so far in Jay and Neil's war against Mother Nature, the death toll stood at 52 flowers and one piss-taking squirrel.
With the blood of a defenceless animal on our hands, and on Jay's wheel arches, we headed back to mine.
- All right.
Where have you been? - Jesus Christ, Simon, you scared the shit out of me! How did you get in here? - Back door was open.
- Oh, yeah, sorry.
- Mate, what the fuck are you wearing? - It's a polo shirt and chinos.
You look like my cousin when he went for a job interview.
- Oh, is he a golf pro? - No, he's got Down's syndrome.
This is what everyone wears for golf.
Can I make some toast, Will? Pop one in for us, Si.
I'm just going to shit out a poo, yeah? Use the downstairs toilet.
And open a window! Who's that? Hello.
This is for Polly Milf-Kenzie.
If this was my dickish friends' way of taking my mind off what Fergus was doing to my mum, it wasn't working.
- Who ordered these? - I know, I'm a genius.
Your mum left her card details on a Post-it on the laptop.
- That's for emergencies only! - It was an emergency, your house is fucking boring! Now we can get totally wankered.
No, I'm getting it refunded.
I don't want to get wankered, I want everything to be the same as it was before she went away.
- What? - Nothing.
- We haven't done anything, have we, Si? - No.
We haven't been anywhere near your Facebook page.
For fuck's sake, what have you done? Oh, you've changed my profile pic to a fat, naked man and you've changed my status to, "Will is fingering his cat".
- Presumably, you've changed the password too? - Yep.
Do you like the picture? The knob's a bit big, but other than that, it's definitely you.
Seriously, you've got to tell me the password.
What if my mum sees this? She won't.
I don't think Fergus can get Facebook on the end of his cock.
Look, if you don't tell me the password, I'm contacting the site administrator and reporting you.
Look out, Si, he's going to get the Facebook police onto us! Oh no, I don't want to get told off by the nerds who run Facebook! Please, I'm begging you! OK.
You can have the password if I can stay over.
- I thought it was boring here? - It is, but you don't have a dog, and I have certain needs to fulfil.
Oh, Christ.
All right, you can fucking stay.
Now, what's the password? - I heart - I heart - my mum's vagina.
- Brilliant.
- And that's not even it! Jay? - Briefcase wanker.
Pricks.
So I'm no longer fingering a cat, but now I can't return the lager.
Thanks, Jay.
- You're welcome.
Si? - I can't really, - I've got the tournament tomorrow.
- Just one? Oh, fuck it, I can probably have one, can't I? - Toilet's blocked.
- What do you mean toilet's blocked? It's blocked.
So what you mean is, you've blocked the toilet.
Maybe.
I don't know.
I'm not a plumber.
- Oh, I can smell it from here.
- Yeah.
It was a bad one, to be honest.
Like the leftovers from Christmas dinner all in one go.
Oh, God.
So, as you'd expect, not a clean break.
And I ran out of toilet roll, so I had to use a wet towel.
Jesus Christ! Well, I'm sorry, but from now on, all toilets are now out of bounds to guests.
- What? - Hang on, what if I need to go? - You could use the garden.
- I'm not a dog, Neil.
OK, I'd assumed it was a given, but I'll make it clear now, just in case: No-one is to shit in my back garden.
- That's it.
- What? I'll tell my dad that Benji did a shit in the house.
Did he? No, but if I say he did, we'll have to keep him outside.
And then I can wank freely without him judging me.
- Your dad? - No, the dog.
I don't know what they had for Christmas dinner round Neil's house, but it smelt like turkey stuffed with rotten eggs and Pedigree Chum.
Well, he's right, it's definitely blocked.
- What's going on? - Watch this.
What the fuck are you doing? This golf bat is perfect, it's exactly what we've been looking for.
Sorry, was that not clear? Stop fucking vandalising my garden! Oh, come on, Will, I thought that at first, but have a go, it's fun.
- Not for me, it's not.
- They're only daffodils.
Fucking little show-offs.
"Ooh, look at me, I'm out first, I'm all yellow!" - Have you gone mental? - Just have a go, it's fun.
- They go miles.
- No.
What are you going to do next? Tag up my bedroom? Piss through my letterbox? - Can we? - No! Right, come on, we're going out again.
Come on! Babysitting these three was exhausting, so I did what all good babysitters do: Hit the drink and let them get on with it.
Oh, Christ, I've got to sober up! What am I going to tell my dad? - To leave your mum.
She's a dog.
- Fuck off.
Oh yes.
Nice! - I thought we did all these the other night? - They grow back every day, don't they? Or the bloke has replanted them at some effort and cost.
They're in the same place.
They must have grown back.
- Someone's replanted them, Neil.
- I doubt it.
They're flowers! They grow.
That's what they do.
That's why nobody minds us smashing them up.
- You know a lot about gardening.
- My dad used to shag Delia Smith, didn't he? Plus, this is public ground, so we can do what we like.
No, it isn't! This is someone's front garden.
Where's the fence, then? Nice.
This isn't right.
You shouldn't be doing this.
Oh, shut up for once.
- No-one cares, Will, everyone does it.
- By the way, they definitely don't.
In your whole life, have you ever just done something because it was a fucking laugh? Look at you, hanging round the estate, drinking, smashing up people's gardens.
You're just a teenage pregnancy away from an ASBO.
Sorry, Neighbourhood Watch! - Oh, come on, Will, it is a laugh.
- What would my mum say if she found out? - I know what she's saying at the moment.
- Do you? Yep.
"Ooh, Fergus, ooh, Fergus, fuck me harder, in the mouth.
"Now quickly, get it in my arse, Fergus.
" Fine, give it here, then.
Oi, Jay.
Dick Faldo! - See? - To be fair, that was brilliant.
- My go.
- No, one more.
Oi! Stay there, or I'm calling the police! - Run! - Fuck off, you fat old shit! Well, that's not helping! So I had become what I hated, but thanks to the beauty of alcohol, I couldn't care less.
Here, what do you reckon this one would do to a daffodil then, Si? I reckon it would smash the fuck out of it, Neil.
Nice! I might have to borrow it and head over to that bloke's place - when the flowers have grown back.
- Oh, come on, Neil.
Give the fat old shit one day off.
- Yeah, or he'll call the police! - That was amazing, wasn't it? I mean, did he think for one second that would scare me? - Fucking daff-loving idiot! - Yes! Found it! - Will's mum's vibrator.
- That's a rolling pin.
- It's still got the smell.
- It's a rolling pin.
Right, I've got some unfinished business to attend to, business pulling my cock with no dogs around.
- Not in my mum's bed! - No, course not.
- Well, that's something.
- No, Neil's going to be wanking in there.
Found these in the wash basket.
Oh, yes, they've still got that lovely arsey smell.
- Game of shots for the loser? - What about your golf? I'm a natural, everyone says it.
A couple more won't make any difference.
The drink-driver's charter.
Cheers! The next morning, we were woken by a terrible banging.
Either Jay was having the most aggressive wank ever, or something even more worrying was happening.
What's that? Fucking hell, my head is killing me.
What's that noise? - I think someone's at the front door.
- It's a bit early, isn't it? - It's not that early.
- What? Oh, fuck, shit! It's past nine o' clock.
I should've been at golf an hour ago.
- I wouldn't leave just yet.
- What do you mean? I'm already late! Shall we see who's trying to smash the door down before you head out? - Oh, fuck! - Who is it? - The bloke whose garden we destroyed.
- What, the fat old shit? Yes, except he's not fat, he looks fucking hard.
I've got to get to golf, I've got seven missed calls, my dad will go mental.
Fuck! Hide! - Has he gone? - Shit! He's going to try the back door.
- So? - What if Neil's left it open again? Oh, shit! - Morning! - Neil, the back door! - I locked it.
- Neil, get down! - What? - Oi! - Yep, that should have fooled him.
- He looks well angry! Shit, another missed call from my dad! What are we going to do? - I know you're in there.
- Let's go back in the living room.
- How's that going to help? - I just farted in here.
Oh, God, Neil, I'm in its wake! It's like you're carrying it in your pants! - What the fuck's all the noise? - We're under attack from the daffodil bloke.
- What? - He's basically correct.
- We're being threatened.
- Come out here like a man! - Does he know I'm here? - I don't see how he could.
Good, I'm going back to bed, then.
Yoo-hoo! I heard a banging.
Fucking Mrs Springett! I know you're in there.
I saw your mate.
Come out and do some vandalism now, then! - See? I told you it was vandalism.
- Oh, my God, my dad is going to kill me.
- I think this guy might kill you first.
- I know your mum.
- Shit, he knows your mum.
- Everyone knows your mum! - Not now, Neil.
- I know you're in there, I can see your feet.
- Neil! - I was getting cramp.
Please, Will, say something to him.
See if he'll just let me out.
- Are you insane? Listen to him.
- Please, mate, for my dad.
- This golf thing is massive for him.
- Go on, what's the worst he could do? - Hit me really hard? - He won't do that.
He won't.
Please, mate.
There's an old lady with a broken nose out here! God! Fine.
- Now, sir - Come out here, you coward! I think we should all take a breath, try and calm down.
You're telling me to calm down? Calm down?! I'll smash the shit out of your garden and see how you like it! OK, I've got a really bad hangover, so if you aren't willing to have a sensible conversation, I'm going to shut the curtains.
Are you taking the moral fucking high ground? Is that what you're doing? - OK, I'm going to close these now.
- You think that's going to stop me? - I'm closing them now.
- You think I give a fuck? - About to close! - You're a bunch of fucking vandals! - I'd call the police, - closing - but I want to deal with you myself! - and they're closed.
- He's gone.
Nice one.
- That's your solution? - Do you have a better one? - Oh, God.
Oh, God, my dad is never, ever going to forgive me.
- Anyone want any toast? - Yeah, all right.
You all right, mate? What's up? Just got a text from my dad.
He's had Benji put down.
Said once they start shitting indoors, it's basically the end, anyway.
Kindest thing to do.
What have I done? I'll never wank again! Come on, mate, you will.
That'll probably be the police.
- Oh, shit.
- Is it them? It's worse than that.
It's my mum.
It had been an interesting few days.
I'd squashed my first squirrel, found out that I had a beak, and seen evidence that Jay and Neil were surprisingly creative.
The only good news was that, having spent the weekend being fucked by a ginger stranger, my mum was dumped immediately, because, and I quote, "He couldn't be dealing with a problem child.
" Fucking Mrs Springett!