Fungus the Bogeyman (2015) s01e03 Episode Script

1 Who are these people? Our new neighbours, they're lovely, possibly on a witness protection scheme.
He looks like a bicycle seat-sniffer, and she's clearly on medication.
- I'm trying to plan my party.
- Can I come? Quite frankly, Runny, you are one creepy dude.
Bactoria Gonoraria Snotsoup, you are one clever, twisted little girl.
Mildew doesn't know.
About you and me.
She must never know.
The Bogeyman is protected.
I need you to help me flush him out.
I've been wondering why it is you're so scared of me.
And I think it's because you know who I am.
Do you want to, Fung, or don't you? One last shake of the centipede.
Oh, muck, I'm Bogeyform.
Mmm.
Mmm.
Where've you been? Talking to Daryldaryl.
He seemed a bit concerned about something.
I think I put his mind at ease.
Mmm.
Mmm.
It's all right.
It was Van.
He was all dressed up.
It's 4:30 in the morning.
Was he drunk? No.
No, he wasn't drunk.
He was a monster.
I mean, he was all dressed up like a monster.
That's weird.
- It was very convincing.
- Mmm.
He didn't believe me.
Bog almighty, Fungus.
Think, think, think.
He is actually a monster.
Our neighbour, him, Van Morrisons.
He's not human.
He's the Daventry Monster.
- Daryl, are you having a breakdown? - No.
Oh, God, yes.
I dunno.
Maybe.
Wendy.
He's this enormous, great, green, stinking, hairy, slobbering All right, darling, I'm gonna turn the light out.
Is that okay? I've got a really busy day tomorrow.
Yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course.
Oh, God.
Favourite Wendy's child.
- Lucy Hedge.
- Quite.
Her birthday.
Ah! You're giving her our things? Well, there is a Drycleaner ritual.
A, uh A scrub up.
On the anniversary of the birth, the humans who live next door must, erm Well Just have to go away.
- Where? - Anywhere.
Doesn't matter.
The important thing, my drear, is that they have to absent themselves - discreetly for an appropriate - But Mildew.
We must fit in.
We must leave immediately.
If not sooner.
This is ridiculous.
- There's no such thing as - Shh.
Lucy doesn't want people to go away.
She's having a party.
How do you know? Did she invite you? - She told me not to come.
- Well, there you are, then.
I wanted to, so much.
Where are we going? There's only one place we can go.
Say that again.
I I met Daryldaryl and talked to him.
Erm, I forgot that I was Bogeyform.
- Last night? - And because of that - We've left the house.
- You've left the house.
This is a pattern, isn't it, Fungus? Just run away.
What the smell were you doing going out and about as a Bogey? - You told me that we - Whatever he told you to get you here is just another of his pathetic lies.
- Oh, well - Oh, be quiet, you twittering little ninny.
Fungus! Are you going to let her speak to Now, look here, Eve, you can't I can't what, Fungus? I can do exactly what I like and you know it.
- You have severely inconvenienced me - Look at her hand.
Who are you? Oh, tell her.
Tell her what you've known ever since that first night.
What first night? Er, she's, erm, Bubonica Snotsoup's sister.
Bactoria.
We used to be acquainted.
I was taught that you didn't exist.
Ha! And you wonder why I hate my sister.
Right, I have to go and retrieve something of mine that you've left behind.
Don't touch anything.
"Acquainted"? Mould Mouldy, er Would you, er When I was his age, younger Bactoria caught me face-folding.
I didn't really know her, but, er, she was much more developed than I was.
Even then she had armpit warts, great, big, gnarly ones with hairs coming out of them, - whereas I was - Yes, spare me the drooling account of her beauty.
I was just trying to tell you that I was intimidated by her.
Anyway, she promised not to tell if I agreed to go to see the surface with her.
- She was sour on you.
- A little.
Yes.
- Obsessed? - Yes.
I was terrified, but I I I had no choice.
We agreed to meet in a drain, near the Bogeyhole.
And when I got there, I saw her mucksack and I realised "She's not coming back.
" But on we went, to the Bogeyhole, and when we got there, the Stenchcoats niffed us.
"What Bogey goes there? Stop! "Do not move.
" I ran.
The blind panic.
I didn't even turn round to look back to see what was happening to Bactoria.
I didn't care, I just wanted to get away.
Next day, there it was on the front of the Daily Smell.
"Minor makes it Topside.
" She'd left a note saying she wasn't coming back.
"Shame of the Snotsoups.
" No wonder her sister grew into such a bitter Bogeywoman.
And that's all.
An act of cowardice for which I have never been forgiven.
But because of it, my drear, I met you.
- I married you.
- Fungus.
When we were on our scummymoon, I asked you if you had any secrets.
Face-folding.
An attempted illegal underage elopement with Bactoria clammy snakeface Snotsoup.
Topside.
All that just, what, slipped your mind? And then we get here, and you realise who she is "that first night".
- Mildew - And now, hilariously, the thing that you do tell me Is that in order to celebrate the painted face child's birthday, we have to leave the house.
And I believe you.
- I think - No.
No.
You have forfeited your right to think on my behalf.
Don't.
Just do not.
I'm going out.
I may be some time.
Okay, let's play a game.
Here are the rules.
You tell me where it is.
I haven't got it.
Liar.
Someone's been using it in this room.
Where is it? And if you answer using the words "I don't know", I will claw out your spleen and stroll round Daventry wearing it as a beret.
Did my sister send you? I'm freelance.
Does she know about the device? Don't make me torture you, sweetie.
It's so time-consuming.
The Sludge has heard that you're developing a weapon that causes permanent face-fold.
Powered by Light Matter.
Which is what? The Funk of a True Drycurious.
And you came to steal it? No.
I came for Fungus.
I didn't mean to intrude on your affairs.
I am a simple bounty hunter.
I'm a True Drycurious myself.
I made myself permanent, apart from the occasional hand, but it cost me all my Funk.
I need fresh Funk.
So, I must have the boy.
Get up.
Do people still talk about me? Of course they do.
What do they say? That you are violent.
One of the filthiest fighters of all time.
You can go now.
Oh.
You can't.
Not "one of", sweetie.
Bactoria Snotsoup was never "one of" anything.
I am the filthiest.
Fungus.
We need to speak.
- Yes, drear.
- As a family.
- About our future.
- Yes, drear.
You.
Furtling off in the middle of the night to go Bogeying.
That's what I do, Mildew.
I'm a Bogeyman.
My father was a Bogeyman and And your son is not.
He's Drycurious.
Yes.
I I understand.
So, will you go and fetch him then? I thought he was with you, isn't he? Well, he's not here.
- Tell me.
- Mould.
He's gone.
What? He may have gone back to the house.
Go and look.
Just do it! I was calling.
Mum says, "Where are we?" She's already there setting up.
You're supposed to be taking me.
Oh, God.
You haven't just produced that? No.
No! No, no, no.
No.
Taking you where? I hadn't forgotten.
I've not forgotten.
Birthday.
Monster party.
Let's go.
Mould? Mouldy? - Mould Oh, my Bog! - Who's that? I'm not quite sure.
But I'm not entirely surprised that he's here.
Mildew, have a care.
Why is your face glued to the worktop? What have you done with our son? Mildew, perhaps we should, um I don't like the way he's looking at me.
I'm going to count to three.
One.
Three.
Two.
I always forget.
Sorry.
Eh? Wow, look at that.
People are about to start arriving.
The DJ wants your playlist.
Look, can you blow these up and make them into a poodle or something? I don't want a poodle.
This is a monster party.
Yeah, I said "or something".
Well, I can't do it anyway.
- Hey, the place looks great! - Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Where were you? What, you're gonna start doing a bit of gardening are you, now that you're here? There's something I've got to show you.
All right, is there another room? Well, there is, yeah, but the vicar's in there and he's sozzled.
But Daryl, please, please, just try not to be Daryl-ish this evening.
For Lucy, eh? - Try and be normal.
- Normal's finished, Wendy.
All right? There is no more normal.
Oh, God.
You have no idea what you've got yourself into.
- I will - You will sit down quietly and listen to my husband or I'll glue your face straight back to that worktop.
I won't talk.
Do what you want.
Torture me.
Actually, I was going to make you a cup of tea.
Gone-off milk, nice spoonful of rat poison, little sprinkling of earwax.
Big, fat soggy to dunk in.
Yeah, sounds good, doesn't it? Mmm? Yes.
That's because you're a Bogey, aren't you, son? Hmm? You're a folded Bogey.
You think this is all about Bactoria wanting revenge on you.
This isn't about you, Fungus.
You're just an extra little fill.
She's planning to assassinate her sister.
I never heard such bumfaced donkeyness in all my life.
Sludge Snotsoup has erased Bactoria from the public record.
She has made her a non-Bogey.
Bactoria cannot bear it.
Rather be an object of hatred than no object at all.
That is why she has developed the Weapon.
To power this Weapon, Bactoria needs your son.
She needs his Funk.
That is its fuel.
Do you understand now? Your son's unique anal effusions are destined to bring down civilisation as we know it.
Oh, my poor boy! You have to find him before she does.
Or else she will suck him dry.
Oh, think.
Fungus, think.
- Gardener.
- Hedge.
Hedge gardener.
Okay, you just stand there and drink your vase.
Wendy.
Look at me.
Do you believe that things that are dead can be brought back to life? I do.
- Yeah, whatever.
- It's in the contract.
What's that? Shall I get some glasses? No.
However Is this consecrated? Of course not.
I wouldn't glug it by the gallon.
- Not that I am remotely - Oh! - What are you doing? - Oh, God.
Sorry.
Behold.
Okay.
Okay, okay.
Wait.
Shh.
Now, you have to admit that's quite unusual.
- It's theologically challenging.
- What? Is that all you can Did you actually see what just happened there? Daryl, I get the terrible feeling that you're preparing me for the fact that you've had it with gardening and that the future lies in magic.
That was not a trick, Wendy.
This stuff was under Runny Green's bed.
What were you doing under Runny Green's bed? Oh, God! Sorry.
So, is he here yet? He won't be here for another two hours.
Nobody's here now.
I mean, look at them.
Haven't exactly tried, have they? Oh, my God.
Well, he has.
Oh, my days, that is so cool.
- Who are you? - Mould.
No, I mean, like, who are you? I am Mould of the House of Fungus.
I'm not on the list.
You didn't invite me.
But I thought I'd come anyway because sometimes you just have to say, "This is me.
As I really am.
" And that's who you really are? Yes.
I am your Daventry Monster.
You're completely disgusting.
- Mould, yeah? - Mmm.
Nice one, Mould.
Oh, six fingers.
That is just so gross.
- What is it? - It's Mouldy.
He's gone Bogeyform.
If I can smell him, so can Bactoria.
Look, Daryl, please.
Monsters.
Resurrection gas.
Daughter.
Birthday party.
She doesn't want us in there.
I don't think I want to be in here.
Look, Daryl.
The bottle thing, it was freaky, and I'm sorry that you had a bad dream last night.
I did not have a dream.
But for once, I would just love to do something properly for our daughter, okay? So please, just move.
- I despair.
- Talk to a priest.
Mr Garden.
Sit down here and tell me all about being a hedger.
Evening, everybody.
Only me.
My word, what's that? What a colour.
That's mine.
Don't go.
Do you know what, Daryl? I think I'm going to have to have that.
It's so beautiful.
How much do you want for it? Name your price, sweetie.
- Stinking rich, I am.
- I'm afraid it's not for sale.
Oh.
Oh, no, it It is.
ï½£10,000.
Done.
Give us your bank details, we'll do a transfer right now.
No.
We will not.
If it's worth 10 grand to her, it's not because of the colour.
I don't know who you are, Eve, I don't know what "family friend" means, but you're in on this and you're not having that stuff.
That's a very poor business decision, Daryl.
I excel at them.
Stay here, my direling.
"Stay here" be sluggered.
You had your chance.
You had your chance.
Stupid! Oh, for heaven's sake, you're so just boring.
Where's your little friend? Oh, um, over there with the monster.
Mould! Runny? Yay, it's the creep.
When the going gets weird, the weird turns up at Lucy's party.
There's only one creep here, Dean.
And it's not my friend Runny.
You could have had 10 grand, Mr Hedge.
- Wendy! - Instead of which, what have you got? Concussion, broken ribs, and a twisted-off head.
- Not quite off.
- Daryl.
Peace be with you! Wendy! Come on.
Get up.
Mr and Mrs Hardener.
I think it's time you should be going.
Come on.
We must leave immediately.
I'm so glad you came.
- What are you doing? - Lucy Hedge? Do you think your father would mind if we appropriated his vehicle? My Dad never minds anything.
- Can you make it go? - It can't be that difficult.
Daryldaryl does it.
He's also a dipstick, so he'll have left the keys in.
Yup.
Bingo.
"Bingo"? Bingo.
Mouldy, in the back.
Lucy Hedge, goodbye.
If there's going to be any kissing, it's gonna be me doing it to you, okay? Okay.
Oh, now.
That is so sweet.
What? Seems to be going all right.
All well in the back there, Mouldy? Mould? Oh, my Bog! Oh, Fungus.
Don't panic.
Er, I shall do a delicate manoeuvre.
Oh, that's going backwards sorted out.
- Lucy? - Lucy! Lucy! Lucy! Get out of the van! - Lucy! - What are you Get - Get in my car! - Where's my Follow it.
Come on! Go! What are you looking for? I don't know, drear.
Whenever it doesn't work, Daryldaryl does this.
I think he talks to it.
Now, look here.
I am rather concerned about my son.
- I wonder if you could see your way - Fungus! Mom! Get in! Get in! Mould's in the orange tube.
I've got a bike right up my bum! Come on, come on! - Ram her! - Oh, don't be ridiculous! Come on! Come on! Right.
Stick this down the back of your pants, on the inside.
Do you want me to do it for you? Right, you walk next to me.
You try and run, I'll twist your head off.
- Don't hurt the girl! - Oh, don't be so melodramatic.
I want to torture your father and murder my sister, I've no interest in her.
I'm not a monster, you know.
Just kidding.
I am a monster.
Ooh.
Atta boy.
Fart when you're frightened.
Just the job.
Coo-ee! - Are you a Bogeyman? - Yes.
- Wrong.
- You're hurting Mould.
Oh Are you still here? Yes.
It does hurt when I do that.
Contrary to general opinion, there is a limit to the amount teenage boys can fart.
When I kill my sister, he'll fart so much he'll die.
What do you care? Shove off, you bore me.
Mum! Did she do this to you? And she has entered Bogeydom with the human child? Your son is very well-brought-up.
I imagine he farts a great deal? Especially when he's anxious.
Then all is lost.
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the Bogeyworld.
Fungus, son of Bilge.
Are you planning to stick Up Top with your little gluey friend, or come with me and rescue Mould? Together? There'll be time enough for your ploppy nonsense when we have our son.
Come on.
Rancida? Is that you? It's me, Mildew.
What has she done to us? Mould.
No! Oh, no! Please! That's my father's friend.
And that's the Bogeylady who serves them.
Knew she'd be a blonde.
Your father drinks too much.
And I don't like his friends.
What is that noise, Officer Clench? I will not have noise.
It is your sister, Your Horror.
She is devastating Bogeydom.
It is written, Clench.
I have no sister.
Nevertheless, that's what she's doing.
The Weapon of permanent face-fold? It's here.
Enough! I, Sludge Bubonica Chlamydia Poxtruss Phlegmgargla Snotsoup, command you in the name of all that smells Oh, put a worm in it.
Right, that's it.
Take this disagreeable person and chuck her in the Swamp of No Return.
- Mould! - That's close enough.
Right, young man.
We need a truly torrential guff out of you.
Not frightened any more? Boo! Make me a permanent Drycleaner, Bactoria.
What do I care? You can't hurt me.
Actually, I can.
I can give you the same special double dose I'm just about to give my sister.
That'll make you permanent and it'll dissolve all your internal organs.
So, you could argue not quite that permanent.
Get her! Either way, I wouldn't bother with it if I were you.
Well, I never.
This is very enlightening, isn't it, once you get going? Whatever were you playing at Up Top? I wanted to be a lone wolf.
To say, "You're under arrest.
" And then to have someone tell me, "Good job, Officer.
" That's so pathetic.
Double dose.
Suck it up, Bubonica! Fungus, do something! Daddy! Bactoria Snotsoup, you're under arrest.
Mould.
Mould.
You want to be Dry, be Dry.
Be whatever you need to be, son, with my blessing.
I love you with all my heart.
- Look after your mother.
- No! No.
What can I do? Take me to the King.
"The King"? We haven't got a king.
Fungus, you're delirious, I don't know what you're asking me.
Mum.
He wants to go to the pub.
Here we are.
Two potties of best slime.
Saliva.
Is that you? You look pustular, my drear.
All of my boils dropped off.
You'll grow new ones, slip of a girl like you.
Here you are.
I think that you can count that as a winner.
You're finished! All of you! Bogeydom is dead! The human world has no more use for you, you deluded A little drop of Superdooper.
Good job, Officer.
Ah! Thank you, ma'am.
That really was a corker.
Oh, Bog, here comes the Sludge.
Did I say something about excombogeycation? I must have been having a moment.
I hereby declare that judgement rescinded.
Fungus of the House of Bilge is this day awarded the Order of the Farter! Any pictures of me looking like a Drycleaner, - I want them suppressed.
- Of course, ma'am.
Where are you going? The Order, Fungus.
I've got a stinking lavatory seat to hang round your neck.
Sorry, Sludge.
I just have to pop Topside.
Our drear fiends will be concerned.
Okay.
- No, I forbid it.
- So do I.
You are not going down that bloody hole.
It's bad enough being married to a gardener, I refuse to be married to a dead one.
Gardening, that's all finished.
I'm telling you, when this is sorted out, I really am going back to Growse and Growse.
No, you're not.
The only thing worse than being married to a dead gardener is being married to an unhappy one.
- I'm fed up with it.
- Hang on.
Are you saying you actually want me to be a gardener? Daryl.
It's a non-negotiable marital command.
Be a gardener.
"A marital command"? It's, er, to be used sparingly.
Wendy, I love you so much.
Of course you do, Daryl, 'cause I'm fabulous.
Mould! Ah! Ugh That's going to take a bit of getting used to.
Daryldaryl.
Favourite Wendy.
All is well.
Try very hard not to say it.
I told you they were monsters.
You said it.
But he's right, my drear.
- We're ghastly monsters.
- We're the worst.
And we're exceptionally glad to be your friends.
Five, six, seven, eight! You may ask, all that excitement, did it actually change anything? Of course it did, you great 'nanas! Look at this lot, hey.
What a flabfesterous pile of shuddering buttocks.
Top quality slime bags.
Oh, yes.
Big changes in Bogeydom.
I mean, when I was a maggot, this would never have happened.
Hey.
But it's a good thing, don't you think? I certainly do.
What's that? Mind you.
Not everything's changed.
Certainly not for you lot.
You see, sometimes, a bump in the night is just a bump in the night.
But sometimes It's Fungus, the Bogeyman.