This prison comedy is based on the popular British televison series of the same name. Long time Slade prison inmate Fletcher (Ronnie Barker)...更多>
[Trying to make small talk with Fletcher] Mr Beal: Long to do? Fletcher: Long enough. Mr Beal: What you in for? Fletcher: Got caught. [At lunch time] Bunny Warren: What's the 'old up Fletch? Fletcher: It's the defrocked dentist havin' a go at the cuisine again. Bunny Warren: 'Ere Fletch! Fletcher: I'm late. Bunny Warren: Look, I've got a letter from the wife, can you read it to me? Fletcher: Listen Bunny, if you can't read, how do you know it's from your wife? Bunny Warren: It's got Elaine's scent. Fletcher: Cor, where's Elaine work? A tarpaulin factory? Mackay: Fletcher! Fletcher: Sir. Mackay: If you want to sing, I suggest you form a Slade Prison Glee Club. Fletcher: Glee? Fletcher: You're lookin' a bit down in the mouth, Mr Barrowclough, anything the matter? Mr Barrowclough: Oh, nothing much. The usual. Domestic crisis. Fletcher: Oh dear. Mrs Barrowclough left you, has she? Mr Barrowclough: Unhappily... no Fletcher. [watching Mackay testing the curry in the prison kitchens] Fletcher: Course, he sees 'imself as an authority on curry, he does, on account of where he was stationed in the army. Rudge: Where? India? Fletcher: No, Bradford. Godber: Hey, why don't we nick a chicken? Fletcher: Don't be silly, it's Wednesday afternoon. Where we going to get sage and onion stuffing, eh? Fletcher: I wouldn't leave that bike there if I was you. Mr Beal: When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Fletcher: Suit yourself. But there are one or two thieves in 'ere. Know what I mean? [Fletcher finally gives in and reads Bunny's letter] Fletcher: All right, I'll just you the 'ighlights, all right? 'Dearest Bunny, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah... [pause as he turns the page] Fletcher: blah. Bunny Warren: Blah blah blah what? Fletcher:
It's trivia, Bunny, it's just trivia, it's the weather, her mother's catarrh, she's retiled the lav, the canary's got haemorrhoids, she's met a welder at the Fiesta Club and she's thinking of movin' in with him. All right? Must rush. Can't hang about.
[exits] Bunny Warren: But... [pauses] Bunny Warren: ...we 'aven't got a canary. Mr Beal: What you in for? Rudge: Two years. Mr Beal: I didn't mean time, I meant offence. Oakes: None taken. [Having been kidnapped and dumped outside jail, Fletcher and Godber try to break back in. They have to pass a farm where the old farmer is leaning on the gate. Fletcher riding is a bike, and Godber jogging alongside] Fletcher: [talking to Godber] Come on, come on, don't flag, jab, jab. [talks to the farmer] Fletcher: It's the big one next week, sir. Farmer's wife: Who was that? Farmer: Couple of escaped convicts. Farmer's wife: Ohhh. [it's after lights out and lock up. There is the distant sound of a fellow inmate groaning mid-nightmare] Godber: You awake, Fletch? Fletcher: No. Godber: It's that bloke, Atkinson. Fletcher: I know. Godber: Keeps getting these terrible nightmares. Fletcher: Yeah. Godber: He's told the shrink about 'em, but all he's given 'im is aspirin. You have to feel compassion, don't you? A human soul in such torment. Fletcher: Hmm. [Atkinson bellows something in the distance] Fletcher: [shouts] Belt up, Atkinson, you noisy scrote. [discussing a new arrival] Godber: He's been sitting in his cell since chow, just staring at the wall. Fletcher: Ah well, he's just had his first experience of your cottage pie. Best not to move about too much after that. Fletcher: Success? Let me tell you about success. I had a pal, come to London 28 years ago without two ha'pennies to rub together. Now he managed to save up enough to buy a little hand cart and he went round collecting all old newspapers. Do you what he's worth today? Mr Barrowclough: No, what? Fletcher: Nothing. And he still owes for the hand cart. [In the prison kitchen, Godber is testing the soup] Godber: It lacks something, Lotterby. With this soup Elizabeth Davies recommends coriander, bay leaves and a dash of pepper. [Lotterby takes a huge pot of pepper and empties it into the pan] Godber: I said a dash, Lotterby. [At lunch, Godber and Lotterby are serving cottage pie and baked beans] Fletcher: Hello, Len. Godber: All right, Fletch? Fletcher: Listen, it's the laddo's first day in 'ere. Do 'im a favour, will you? Give 'im a small portion.
Fletcher: 'Ere, you owe me some darning wool. Godber: I already gave you some. Fletcher: That was in exchange for the orange. Godber: Tangerine. Anyway, that was to pay me for the stamp. Fletcher: What stamp? Godber: For your pools. Fletcher: I paid you for the stamp with a squirt of me toothpaste. Godber: No, that was for the darning wool. Fletcher: You're not doing yourself any favours, are you Banyard? All you're doing is getting up other people's noses. Banyard: We have certain rights. Fletcher: No we don't, we're in the nick. Ives: I suppose you think you're entitled to something better just because you went to a public school, is that it? Banyard: On the contrary, Ives, I'm well used to this kind of food, I went to Harrow. Fletcher: Oh that's a good advert for the public school system, prepares you for the nick. Course it's harder in here for him than for most of us, 'cause he has had further to drop. Professional man, you see. Dentist. Tragic. Ives: What do you mean, Fletcher, 'tragic'? It's no laughing matter for that woman he had under the laughing gas. Banyard: There's no need for that, Ives. We don't have to keep unearthing each other's past, I'm paying for my peccadilloes. Fletcher: Oh that's good. If you're paying I'll have a large one. Bunny Warren: What's a peccadillo? Ives: It's a South African bird. Flies backwards to stop getting the sand in its eyes. Bunny Warren: No. No. I know what you mean though. It's an animal. Called the Armadildo. Banyard: The Armadildo. Fletcher: No, that was King Arthur's codpiece. I think that's what I'm eating an' all. [Fletcher is on the prison farm, leaning on his shovel next to the pig sty and yawning. Mr Barrowclough arrives accompanied by Rudge, a new inmate at Slade] Fletcher: Oh, morning Mr Barrowclough. Mr Barrowclough: Busy, Fletcher? Fletcher: Oh busier than ever, sir. Mind I never complain. Mr Barrowclough: I can't actually see what it is you're supposed to be doing. Fletcher: It's the pigs, sir. They won't eat without my reassuring presence. Very highly strung your average pig, you know. [Sees Rudge] Fletcher: Who's he? Mr Barrowclough: Oh, Rudge. Newly assigned to the farm. Fletcher: How'd he work that then? Mr Barrowclough: Pardon? Fletcher: What? First day inside, the farm? What is he, the governor's nephew? [Bunny has finally found someone to read his wife's letter] Godber: