Wild West (2002) s02e04 Episode Script
Cornish Flu
? We're all going on a summer holiday ? No more working for a week or two ? Fun and laughter on our summer holiday ? No more worries for me or you For a week or two No, Cornwall is fantastic.
l mean, our quality of life is so high.
- Sky high.
- Yes, especially compared to London.
l mean, what is the congestion charge in St Gweep, Angela? - Not a penny.
- Nothing.
How many award-winning biospheres are there in Manchester? - Gosh, l don't know.
- There's none.
Sorry, obviously, none.
Yes, keep up.
We got fresh air, we got time to smile.
We got a great sense of community and we got a ton of history.
lt's just a shame that we're as poor as arseholes.
- Poorest county in England.
- No, she's gone, Angela.
Thank God for the bank holiday weekend, eh? As we speak, l can hear the sound of stuffed wallets racing down the M5.
- Morning, Jeff.
- God, look at you.
You're sweating like a lump of cheese in a polythene bag on a hot bus.
Yeah, l don't feel too well.
Have you got anything? l don't know.
What have we got? Aspirin? Oh, that is so annoying! - Moby Dick has surfaced.
- Now, now.
- ls it a hangover? - l don't know.
He's out cold.
- Has there been an incident? - No, he's just fallen over backwards.
That's not me, then.
That's medical.
l'd better be off on my training course - a week on dealing with the public.
People think it's chasing thieving underachievers through car parks but it's a bit more subtle than that.
Pinch him.
Go on, pinch him.
No harder.
Like this.
Puncture his throat.
Get a biro and jab it in.
No, just give me something to fan him with.
These days we're more like psychotherapists.
Psychotherapists, it has to be said, with the power to shoot and kill.
Oh, God, sorry.
lt's always a risk with fanning, the direct hit to the face.
(Moans) He's moaning.
We should get him back to his bedroom.
Sorry, not with my back.
(Groaning) All right, angel.
- (Groans) - Where's Daphne? Away on deaf camp for kids.
She's not back for a week.
We'll have to take turns to look after him.
- l wonder what he's got.
- (Groans) All right, Alan? Yeah.
- Cornish flu.
- Have we got our own flu? Oh, yes.
There's a Devon flu as well but that's typically weedy and useless.
Yeah.
Didn't we have a tummy as well for a while? Cornish tummy? - No, that was Somerset.
- Yeah, Somerset tummy, that's right.
Of course, further afield you've got Delhi belly, although l suspect they only got that because it rhymes.
Did anyone manage to get hold of a doctor? Doctor Tonk, is it? The world's most patronising GP.
''How's your poorly tum-tum? ls it icky ba-bad?'' Or Dr Hazlitt who borrowed that book on Harold Shipman from the mobile library.
Yeah, conventional medicine is hopeless.
Jeff would be better off rubbing on nettle powder.
You can't do much about Cornish flu, anyway.
lt's a bugger.
lnfectious early on.
Jeff will have to go into quarantine.
- No! - Yep.
Two or three days.
They didn't isolate it in Whitclicker in 1959 and it engulfed the village.
Even worse than that gonorrhoea outbreak in Penryn in '67.
There was no summer of love in Penryn.
They had a summer ofitching.
So what's the symptoms of this flu, then? Sudden collapse, delirium, then brief euphoria.
So like heavy drinking but in reverse.
Right, there's a highly contagious barman upstairs who needs our help.
No? There's a frightened, much-loved barman? No.
Come on.
Dirty glasses.
Give me the glasses.
Let's have your glasses, please.
Must wash the glasses.
(Laughs) Ooh.
Piss on me.
Go on, piss on me.
You can do it.
Not you.
But you can.
All right, you too.
- Shall l? He is asking.
- No! Are you sure fly spray's better than nothing? Yeah, we'll get some proper stuff in the morning.
Stay away from my money.
lt's mine.
- What money's that then, Jeff? - 5,000.
£5,000.
l stole it.
l stole it.
Bad.
Jeff's naughty.
- Where is it, Jeff? - ln the pub, hidden.
l'm a cheat.
- Piss on me.
- Now stop that talk, Jeff.
- But do talk about the money.
- Yes.
Overcharging people for years, rounding up.
Don't tell Daphne.
- Where is the money, Jeff? - You'll never find it.
Well, l can't afford to be ill.
lt's the boating season.
l've got two boatloads of posh bints from Cheltenham on Monday who want to experience an authentic Cornish boatman.
- And who can blame them? - Yeah, l can't be ill, either.
The witchcraft centre's always been a spiritual home for mystics, Goths, witches and anyone a little bit bonkers round the bank holiday period.
- l bet.
- We get lots of Harry Potter fans, too.
l always show the boys the famous witch's buttocks of Bude.
That generally shocks them into silence.
Tap on these floorboards with your heel, see if you can find anywhere hollow.
l can put my other jobs on hold until Jeff gets better but then l've really got - What are you two up to? - Er, nothing.
- Dancing? - Yeah.
That's right, yeah.
Ooh, look at her.
Lovely footwork, isn't it? Proper job.
Yeah.
Go, Mrs Wakesly, go! Now it isn't our money.
We're not entitled to it.
lt is ours.
You heard Jeff.
He's been fiddling the prices for years.
lt's bad enough me doing it.
That was just mad ranting.
You can't trust him when he's well.
Why should he be more reliable when he's crawling with alien microbes? Because Cornish flu makes you tell the truth.
You're too out of it to lie.
Oh, l don't know.
Anyway, the guilt is obviously tormenting Jeff.
He'll be delighted to be rid of the money.
- OK, that's good, keep going.
- Think of it this way, Ange.
lt's not like he's losing £5,000.
lt's more like he's gaining a clear conscience.
OK, yes, thank you.
l'm all right with it now.
Good.
Mary, think of it, though.
£5,000! We could go on the holiday of a lifetime.
Yeah, obviously l'd have to take PC Alan.
- Oh, right.
Maybe not, then.
- Oh? Actually, while we're on that subject, do you think you could keep the noise down when you two are copulating? Are we audible? Er, yes, in the Scilly lsles.
Sorry.
''Don't stop, don't stop, don't cocking stop!'' - The problem is - ''That is super!'' ''That is super!'' ''That is super!'' Yes, thank you.
We will have a problem searching the pub because Harry will be there.
Do you know what the worst one is? ''Roger that! Roger that!'' ''Roger that! Rogerthat!'' Tray of glasses smashing onto a stone path.
Harry's in trouble.
- l love you.
- No, you don't.
Well, you may, of course.
- This is the camper van of love.
- Come on, Harry! - l've never liked your hair.
- Shut it.
Here, Ange, do you want to have a look down there? You can see where they got the idea for lipstick.
- Ah.
- Come on.
Now you've got Cornish flu.
You'll experience horrible pain for many days.
Yeah.
Have you got any money hidden away? Come in, slip off your pants.
So, two down, how many more of us to go? Yeah.
l hate illness, the way it comes from nowhere and overwhelms you, stripping away your personality, turning a skipping, laughing shopkeeper into a ghost.
- Here we go again.
- lt's as if someone's erasing the real you with a giant rubber.
Rub.
There goes your mind.
Rub.
There goes the use of your toes.
Rub.
There My hands are on fire! l think it's just as well you gave up that nursing course.
So Mary, what's it like going out with a policeman? Yeah, yeah, it's lovely.
But l do now know more than l need to about where folks stash their drugs in a hurry.
Oh.
Oh, yes, where the sun don't shine, that's for sure.
Weybridge? Do you want me to take over? No, no, no, no, no.
Me and Ange are fine.
We'll lock up.
- Well, l can do that.
- No, we're doing it.
Yeah, it's just that Jeff, you know, we promised him that we'd do it the way he'd like it.
Let's have those bloody glasses.
lt's only half past nine! - Yeah, we've got things to do.
- What? Sluice the ventricles of the old down pipes.
Oh, OK.
- Come on, you've all got beer at home.
- Yeah, go and drink that.
Thank you.
Come on, Jeff, horribly infectious old Jeff.
Let's get you back to bed.
- Oh, Mummy.
- Yeah.
Ooh! Let's lock you in this time, shall we? All right, come on, everybody out.
Come on, everybody out.
Oh, God! - What does the horse do? - ErmLet's ask someone.
- You'll have to come now.
No, you'll - (Crash) All right, Harry.
All right, darling.
That's it, good boy, that's it.
We love you very much, Harry, so we're going to incarcerate you.
- (Growls) - OK, OK.
Put him up in Jeff's kids' room and lock away the scary toys.
(Spits) Come on, come on, come on.
That's it, that's it.
Yeah, yeah.
- See you then, Mary.
- Yeah.
Mary, you're not wearing your anti-flu cabbage necklace.
- l know.
- lt works, it's in all the books.
Yeah.
Left it at home.
(Sighs) Right.
Oh, God! He's obviously hidden it to buggery and back, that's all l can say.
Oh.
Why don't you? No, don't make me go down in that basement.
- lt's a cellar.
- Whatever it's called.
Rank sodding dark hole full of spooky barrels.
Yeah, all right.
Calm, calm.
lt's been a long night.
l'm going to see if l can get any clue out of Jeff.
- You go and open the shop.
- (Sighs) All right.
(Sighs) Five magazines wrapped in plastic.
Whatever happened to real letters? - Don't do that! - l don't feel well, Angela.
l'm sure it's nothing.
No, l've already put that back once.
Morning.
What's all this? - Don't touch her.
- Why? lt's one of those phrases you hear, like, ''Come away from the window.
'' ''There's one procedure we haven't tried.
lt's still in the early stages of testing ''but maybe it's the only chance we've got.
'' - ls it that Cornish flu l've heard about? - Mm.
l'm scared of getting delivery man's wrist.
- What's that? - A grotesque swelling.
- How do you get that? - Don't ask.
- Can you help me carry her upstairs? - Or shall we wait for someone stronger? Hercules.
Ah, you've got a slight sweat on there, haven't you, Jeff? - Yeah.
- Ah.
Sorry you're having to go through this, lover.
We've called Daphne and the kids.
Deaf camp is going very well.
They've decided not to rush home and be at your bedside in your hour of need but if Daphne were here, Jeff, l'm sure she'd pass on her best wishes for a very speedy recovery.
Erm, something like - Something like that, would it be? Yeah.
- (Groans) Yeah, now, listen.
Jeff, Jeff? Concentrate.
Jeff? Where's the £5,000 too? Where have you hidden it? - Could it be - (Banging and shouting) Shut up, Harry.
Sorry, Jeff.
Sorry.
Sorry, lover.
Could it be in a secret compartment somewhere? Or perhaps you've buried it, have you? And if you have buried it, Jeff, don't just say beach or Bodmin Moor.
That's going to drive me round the bend, looking for that.
Jeff? Jeff? Where's the money, you cocking eejit? Chimney.
What? Did you say chimney, Jeff? Was that chimney? Chimney? Any luck? ls that a joke? No.
No, no luck at all.
How many chimneys do you think are in that pub? One.
Eight.
There are eight chimneys in that pub and the soot from every single one of them went in my mouth.
And on the short walk home, 15 people called me Dick Van Dyke, two Eddie Murphys and a Desmond Tutu.
This must be the same as us wearing them.
- Yeah.
- lt's like Ten Little lndians, isn't it? You know, that Agatha Christie book where they all drop down one by one, - each more desperate than the last.
- Stop it, Angela.
Stop it.
lt's worse.
lt's like a nightmarish Big Brother with physical pain where eviction means death and Oh, God, l'm losing it again, Mary.
l'm losing it.
Don't make me switch to blow, Ange.
l'm sorry.
l'm underslept.
We have got to stay strong for the sake of the village, Angela.
lt seems that Jeff's money was a figment of his twisted imagination which is fine, although l may, in fairness, - have to kill the bastard.
- (Moaning) lt's quite good with the mask on.
lt's like having the TV on mute.
- What's she going on about? - lt's probably some witchy song.
They carved off my nose said the goblin to the maiden Yeah.
Over there's Craggy Rock where 20 years ago they discovered l'm sorry but there's a rather serious illness rampaging around the village.
Sorry, l'm not doing pensions until further notice.
This nice rich Dutch couple will give you some money.
To make up for all that rubbery cheese? And the Smurfs.
(Shop bell) - How's old Jake? - Oh, he's delirious, shouting at his feet, accusing them of all sorts of crimes against humanity.
- Horace has gone down with it.
- Yeah.
l asked the little Smith kiddy if she could spare us a few hours but they've got her driving the fire engine, they're that short-staffed.
Popped in on Jeff.
He seems to be on the mend.
Mind you, that sweating is spectacular.
Less interesting acts pack out the Assembly Rooms.
l know.
Holly's been just as bad.
l haven't seen that much liquid pour out of anyone since we found that porn video in my dad's briefcase.
Poor leaky little pixie.
Ange, open up that witchcraft centre for Holly.
There's a bank holiday-sized queue out there.
And sell them these Zooms on their way in.
One whiff of boredom in that queue and they'll be sacrificing passing dogs.
- l feel a bit ill, actually.
- No, you don't.
Go on, make hay while the sun shines.
Go on.
We're getting away with this.
We are getting away with this.
Mary! Come here, you big policeman.
OK, keep moving.
l won't say there's nothing to see.
We are quite something together.
l had to see you.
l've skipped a workshop session on dealing with the deluded.
We've had a hell of a week here.
Cornish flu set in.
Not pretty.
Cornish flu? l knew we had a tummy.
No, that's Somerset tummy.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, l know what l wanted to ask you.
Can you slip away for sexual intercourse? - What, now? - Three hour drive.
Needed back at 16.
15 for seminar, ''Police brutalities are always wrong''.
- l got 25 minutes.
- Erm Round it up to the nearest pound and just leave it on the counter.
- ls the pub opening? - What? l've got a thirsty coach party with money to burn.
Give me five minutes.
No problem.
l can wait.
Although l am on something of a hair trigger.
Oh, OK, let's be having you.
Ooh! (Laughs manically) Jeff, listen.
Personally l think you're out of the contagious phase.
- Do you feel well? - Yes.
- (Banging) - How many fingers am l holding up? - Nine.
- No, lower, lower.
- None.
- No, higher, higher.
Skip the finger test.
Do you feel well enough to handle a large party of holiday-makers? - Oh, yes.
- OK.
No, stop that now, Jeff.
Oh, that will not do.
Hang on.
Erm, right, put these on.
(Gibbering) Please, no.
Please.
(Snorting) No, you're not ready yet.
- (Key turns) - (Gasps) Hello, uptight, wealthy men.
This one's for me, by the way.
l've been locked in a room for three days.
l'm a bit dehydrated.
- (Man) So are we.
- Still, no complaints.
Oh, you look a lovely lot.
- What are you, then? Masons? - Rotarians.
Oh, fantastic.
Lovely part of the world, Rotaria, eh? Eh? Eh? (Laughs) l've still got it.
Oh, serve yourselves.
Gin's over there.
No, it's not, it's over there.
And pop whatever you normally pay into that glass jar there.
Come on, get on with it.
Get stuck in.
l've still got it, me.
All right? - Yes, postcards are £1 .
85.
- No, thank you.
Have you got any badly burnt body parts? Yes, yes, towards the back in section D.
- Um, hello, did you enjoy that? - Yeah, we did.
Good.
That's an extra £2.
50 each then, please.
And you'll be wanting some ice lollies.
(Gasps) Are you all right? Who's next? Young gentleman over there in the multicoloured T-shirt? - How are we doing? - We have 1 7 minutes.
l won't be back till Thursday.
Let's go.
Backpacker man, take over the till for 1 7 minutes.
- There are cameras watching you.
- Where? Everywhere.
They're very, very tiny.
Holly, wait.
Holly! Come on, Holly, that's it.
There we are.
Fine.
She's absolutely fine.
l'm sorry.
Right, who's sex? Next.
- How are you feeling? - Hot.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
- Hot.
Hot.
- Yeah, moving on.
- Hot! - Aaah! - There.
There.
So, just for the record, Holly, my lover, - have you got money stashed away? - Bog off! Right, that's the illness talking there.
- l think you're still a bit infectious.
- No, no! Sh, sh, sh.
Good girl.
Just a minute.
There, that's it.
OK, sh, keep still.
That's it.
That's it, stay calm.
Stay calm, good girl.
See? There's still fun to be had even at times of major illness.
- (Whimpering) - So, let the love-in begin.
Do you know where we might find Jake Trethowan? Yes, he's not very Why? He's taking us round the bay.
We're booked in.
That's right.
Erm - l'm doing it.
- No.
We were promised an authentic Cornish boatman.
Yes, well, l'm his daughter and l taught Dad everything he knows.
- Thank you.
- l'm not a witch, by the way.
- Come here.
- OK, stop it.
- That's enough.
- Stop it now.
l've got a jar of witches' kidneys, allegedly, and l'm not afraid to use them.
OK, any more money? That's it.
Yeah.
Lovely.
OK.
Shouldn't we be in two boats? Oh, no, no, you'll be perfectly all right.
OK, right.
Settle back, ladies, for the boat trip of a lifetime.
On your left, you have a cliff.
On your right, you have a cliff.
And round our legs is a lot of water which is most refreshing, isn't it? Don't worry, these Cornish fishing boats lie very low slung in the water.
lt's perfectly natural.
l bloody love you, Rotarians! (Cheering) Sorry, nine o'clock tomorrow morning.
? We're all going on a summer holiday ? No more working for a week or two - ? Fun and laughter on our summer ? - Thank you for coming.
- ? No more worries for me or you ? - Tell all your friends.
? For a week or two ? We're going where the sun shines brightly We're going where the sea is blue - Who wants some cash? - ? We've seen it in the movies ? Now let's see if it's true ? Everybody has a summer holiday ? Doing things they always wanted to ? So we're going on a summer holiday ? To make our dreams come true For me and you - That'll be a bank holiday to forget.
- Yeah.
- Still, just goes to show.
- Yeah.
What? - Oh, a lot of things.
- Like? Like, there's more to other people's jobs than meets the eye.
The body contains twice its weight in sweat.
You are immune to Cornish flu, probably cos you're not Cornish.
And 12 posh ladies plus handbags should not set out to sea in a boat the size of a small family car.
l thought l did have it earlier, though, you know.
l could feel the illness grab at my throat and just wring the life out of my body.
lt was as if a giant squid had wrapped itself around my chest and just squeezed and squeezed.
That will be your tight bra.
You ought to change it.
Yeah, it might be the bra, could be.
Do you know, l wouldn't have wanted Jeff's money.
lt would have left a horrible hollow feeling, spending that.
- That's tosh.
- Tosh and nonsense and bollocks.
lt was lovely, though, the way we all rallied round.
Yeah.
You wouldn't get that, would you, up London or Manchester? - No.
- No.
- Where's Holly? - l locked her in the shed.
Ah, well done.
l mean, our quality of life is so high.
- Sky high.
- Yes, especially compared to London.
l mean, what is the congestion charge in St Gweep, Angela? - Not a penny.
- Nothing.
How many award-winning biospheres are there in Manchester? - Gosh, l don't know.
- There's none.
Sorry, obviously, none.
Yes, keep up.
We got fresh air, we got time to smile.
We got a great sense of community and we got a ton of history.
lt's just a shame that we're as poor as arseholes.
- Poorest county in England.
- No, she's gone, Angela.
Thank God for the bank holiday weekend, eh? As we speak, l can hear the sound of stuffed wallets racing down the M5.
- Morning, Jeff.
- God, look at you.
You're sweating like a lump of cheese in a polythene bag on a hot bus.
Yeah, l don't feel too well.
Have you got anything? l don't know.
What have we got? Aspirin? Oh, that is so annoying! - Moby Dick has surfaced.
- Now, now.
- ls it a hangover? - l don't know.
He's out cold.
- Has there been an incident? - No, he's just fallen over backwards.
That's not me, then.
That's medical.
l'd better be off on my training course - a week on dealing with the public.
People think it's chasing thieving underachievers through car parks but it's a bit more subtle than that.
Pinch him.
Go on, pinch him.
No harder.
Like this.
Puncture his throat.
Get a biro and jab it in.
No, just give me something to fan him with.
These days we're more like psychotherapists.
Psychotherapists, it has to be said, with the power to shoot and kill.
Oh, God, sorry.
lt's always a risk with fanning, the direct hit to the face.
(Moans) He's moaning.
We should get him back to his bedroom.
Sorry, not with my back.
(Groaning) All right, angel.
- (Groans) - Where's Daphne? Away on deaf camp for kids.
She's not back for a week.
We'll have to take turns to look after him.
- l wonder what he's got.
- (Groans) All right, Alan? Yeah.
- Cornish flu.
- Have we got our own flu? Oh, yes.
There's a Devon flu as well but that's typically weedy and useless.
Yeah.
Didn't we have a tummy as well for a while? Cornish tummy? - No, that was Somerset.
- Yeah, Somerset tummy, that's right.
Of course, further afield you've got Delhi belly, although l suspect they only got that because it rhymes.
Did anyone manage to get hold of a doctor? Doctor Tonk, is it? The world's most patronising GP.
''How's your poorly tum-tum? ls it icky ba-bad?'' Or Dr Hazlitt who borrowed that book on Harold Shipman from the mobile library.
Yeah, conventional medicine is hopeless.
Jeff would be better off rubbing on nettle powder.
You can't do much about Cornish flu, anyway.
lt's a bugger.
lnfectious early on.
Jeff will have to go into quarantine.
- No! - Yep.
Two or three days.
They didn't isolate it in Whitclicker in 1959 and it engulfed the village.
Even worse than that gonorrhoea outbreak in Penryn in '67.
There was no summer of love in Penryn.
They had a summer ofitching.
So what's the symptoms of this flu, then? Sudden collapse, delirium, then brief euphoria.
So like heavy drinking but in reverse.
Right, there's a highly contagious barman upstairs who needs our help.
No? There's a frightened, much-loved barman? No.
Come on.
Dirty glasses.
Give me the glasses.
Let's have your glasses, please.
Must wash the glasses.
(Laughs) Ooh.
Piss on me.
Go on, piss on me.
You can do it.
Not you.
But you can.
All right, you too.
- Shall l? He is asking.
- No! Are you sure fly spray's better than nothing? Yeah, we'll get some proper stuff in the morning.
Stay away from my money.
lt's mine.
- What money's that then, Jeff? - 5,000.
£5,000.
l stole it.
l stole it.
Bad.
Jeff's naughty.
- Where is it, Jeff? - ln the pub, hidden.
l'm a cheat.
- Piss on me.
- Now stop that talk, Jeff.
- But do talk about the money.
- Yes.
Overcharging people for years, rounding up.
Don't tell Daphne.
- Where is the money, Jeff? - You'll never find it.
Well, l can't afford to be ill.
lt's the boating season.
l've got two boatloads of posh bints from Cheltenham on Monday who want to experience an authentic Cornish boatman.
- And who can blame them? - Yeah, l can't be ill, either.
The witchcraft centre's always been a spiritual home for mystics, Goths, witches and anyone a little bit bonkers round the bank holiday period.
- l bet.
- We get lots of Harry Potter fans, too.
l always show the boys the famous witch's buttocks of Bude.
That generally shocks them into silence.
Tap on these floorboards with your heel, see if you can find anywhere hollow.
l can put my other jobs on hold until Jeff gets better but then l've really got - What are you two up to? - Er, nothing.
- Dancing? - Yeah.
That's right, yeah.
Ooh, look at her.
Lovely footwork, isn't it? Proper job.
Yeah.
Go, Mrs Wakesly, go! Now it isn't our money.
We're not entitled to it.
lt is ours.
You heard Jeff.
He's been fiddling the prices for years.
lt's bad enough me doing it.
That was just mad ranting.
You can't trust him when he's well.
Why should he be more reliable when he's crawling with alien microbes? Because Cornish flu makes you tell the truth.
You're too out of it to lie.
Oh, l don't know.
Anyway, the guilt is obviously tormenting Jeff.
He'll be delighted to be rid of the money.
- OK, that's good, keep going.
- Think of it this way, Ange.
lt's not like he's losing £5,000.
lt's more like he's gaining a clear conscience.
OK, yes, thank you.
l'm all right with it now.
Good.
Mary, think of it, though.
£5,000! We could go on the holiday of a lifetime.
Yeah, obviously l'd have to take PC Alan.
- Oh, right.
Maybe not, then.
- Oh? Actually, while we're on that subject, do you think you could keep the noise down when you two are copulating? Are we audible? Er, yes, in the Scilly lsles.
Sorry.
''Don't stop, don't stop, don't cocking stop!'' - The problem is - ''That is super!'' ''That is super!'' ''That is super!'' Yes, thank you.
We will have a problem searching the pub because Harry will be there.
Do you know what the worst one is? ''Roger that! Roger that!'' ''Roger that! Rogerthat!'' Tray of glasses smashing onto a stone path.
Harry's in trouble.
- l love you.
- No, you don't.
Well, you may, of course.
- This is the camper van of love.
- Come on, Harry! - l've never liked your hair.
- Shut it.
Here, Ange, do you want to have a look down there? You can see where they got the idea for lipstick.
- Ah.
- Come on.
Now you've got Cornish flu.
You'll experience horrible pain for many days.
Yeah.
Have you got any money hidden away? Come in, slip off your pants.
So, two down, how many more of us to go? Yeah.
l hate illness, the way it comes from nowhere and overwhelms you, stripping away your personality, turning a skipping, laughing shopkeeper into a ghost.
- Here we go again.
- lt's as if someone's erasing the real you with a giant rubber.
Rub.
There goes your mind.
Rub.
There goes the use of your toes.
Rub.
There My hands are on fire! l think it's just as well you gave up that nursing course.
So Mary, what's it like going out with a policeman? Yeah, yeah, it's lovely.
But l do now know more than l need to about where folks stash their drugs in a hurry.
Oh.
Oh, yes, where the sun don't shine, that's for sure.
Weybridge? Do you want me to take over? No, no, no, no, no.
Me and Ange are fine.
We'll lock up.
- Well, l can do that.
- No, we're doing it.
Yeah, it's just that Jeff, you know, we promised him that we'd do it the way he'd like it.
Let's have those bloody glasses.
lt's only half past nine! - Yeah, we've got things to do.
- What? Sluice the ventricles of the old down pipes.
Oh, OK.
- Come on, you've all got beer at home.
- Yeah, go and drink that.
Thank you.
Come on, Jeff, horribly infectious old Jeff.
Let's get you back to bed.
- Oh, Mummy.
- Yeah.
Ooh! Let's lock you in this time, shall we? All right, come on, everybody out.
Come on, everybody out.
Oh, God! - What does the horse do? - ErmLet's ask someone.
- You'll have to come now.
No, you'll - (Crash) All right, Harry.
All right, darling.
That's it, good boy, that's it.
We love you very much, Harry, so we're going to incarcerate you.
- (Growls) - OK, OK.
Put him up in Jeff's kids' room and lock away the scary toys.
(Spits) Come on, come on, come on.
That's it, that's it.
Yeah, yeah.
- See you then, Mary.
- Yeah.
Mary, you're not wearing your anti-flu cabbage necklace.
- l know.
- lt works, it's in all the books.
Yeah.
Left it at home.
(Sighs) Right.
Oh, God! He's obviously hidden it to buggery and back, that's all l can say.
Oh.
Why don't you? No, don't make me go down in that basement.
- lt's a cellar.
- Whatever it's called.
Rank sodding dark hole full of spooky barrels.
Yeah, all right.
Calm, calm.
lt's been a long night.
l'm going to see if l can get any clue out of Jeff.
- You go and open the shop.
- (Sighs) All right.
(Sighs) Five magazines wrapped in plastic.
Whatever happened to real letters? - Don't do that! - l don't feel well, Angela.
l'm sure it's nothing.
No, l've already put that back once.
Morning.
What's all this? - Don't touch her.
- Why? lt's one of those phrases you hear, like, ''Come away from the window.
'' ''There's one procedure we haven't tried.
lt's still in the early stages of testing ''but maybe it's the only chance we've got.
'' - ls it that Cornish flu l've heard about? - Mm.
l'm scared of getting delivery man's wrist.
- What's that? - A grotesque swelling.
- How do you get that? - Don't ask.
- Can you help me carry her upstairs? - Or shall we wait for someone stronger? Hercules.
Ah, you've got a slight sweat on there, haven't you, Jeff? - Yeah.
- Ah.
Sorry you're having to go through this, lover.
We've called Daphne and the kids.
Deaf camp is going very well.
They've decided not to rush home and be at your bedside in your hour of need but if Daphne were here, Jeff, l'm sure she'd pass on her best wishes for a very speedy recovery.
Erm, something like - Something like that, would it be? Yeah.
- (Groans) Yeah, now, listen.
Jeff, Jeff? Concentrate.
Jeff? Where's the £5,000 too? Where have you hidden it? - Could it be - (Banging and shouting) Shut up, Harry.
Sorry, Jeff.
Sorry.
Sorry, lover.
Could it be in a secret compartment somewhere? Or perhaps you've buried it, have you? And if you have buried it, Jeff, don't just say beach or Bodmin Moor.
That's going to drive me round the bend, looking for that.
Jeff? Jeff? Where's the money, you cocking eejit? Chimney.
What? Did you say chimney, Jeff? Was that chimney? Chimney? Any luck? ls that a joke? No.
No, no luck at all.
How many chimneys do you think are in that pub? One.
Eight.
There are eight chimneys in that pub and the soot from every single one of them went in my mouth.
And on the short walk home, 15 people called me Dick Van Dyke, two Eddie Murphys and a Desmond Tutu.
This must be the same as us wearing them.
- Yeah.
- lt's like Ten Little lndians, isn't it? You know, that Agatha Christie book where they all drop down one by one, - each more desperate than the last.
- Stop it, Angela.
Stop it.
lt's worse.
lt's like a nightmarish Big Brother with physical pain where eviction means death and Oh, God, l'm losing it again, Mary.
l'm losing it.
Don't make me switch to blow, Ange.
l'm sorry.
l'm underslept.
We have got to stay strong for the sake of the village, Angela.
lt seems that Jeff's money was a figment of his twisted imagination which is fine, although l may, in fairness, - have to kill the bastard.
- (Moaning) lt's quite good with the mask on.
lt's like having the TV on mute.
- What's she going on about? - lt's probably some witchy song.
They carved off my nose said the goblin to the maiden Yeah.
Over there's Craggy Rock where 20 years ago they discovered l'm sorry but there's a rather serious illness rampaging around the village.
Sorry, l'm not doing pensions until further notice.
This nice rich Dutch couple will give you some money.
To make up for all that rubbery cheese? And the Smurfs.
(Shop bell) - How's old Jake? - Oh, he's delirious, shouting at his feet, accusing them of all sorts of crimes against humanity.
- Horace has gone down with it.
- Yeah.
l asked the little Smith kiddy if she could spare us a few hours but they've got her driving the fire engine, they're that short-staffed.
Popped in on Jeff.
He seems to be on the mend.
Mind you, that sweating is spectacular.
Less interesting acts pack out the Assembly Rooms.
l know.
Holly's been just as bad.
l haven't seen that much liquid pour out of anyone since we found that porn video in my dad's briefcase.
Poor leaky little pixie.
Ange, open up that witchcraft centre for Holly.
There's a bank holiday-sized queue out there.
And sell them these Zooms on their way in.
One whiff of boredom in that queue and they'll be sacrificing passing dogs.
- l feel a bit ill, actually.
- No, you don't.
Go on, make hay while the sun shines.
Go on.
We're getting away with this.
We are getting away with this.
Mary! Come here, you big policeman.
OK, keep moving.
l won't say there's nothing to see.
We are quite something together.
l had to see you.
l've skipped a workshop session on dealing with the deluded.
We've had a hell of a week here.
Cornish flu set in.
Not pretty.
Cornish flu? l knew we had a tummy.
No, that's Somerset tummy.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, l know what l wanted to ask you.
Can you slip away for sexual intercourse? - What, now? - Three hour drive.
Needed back at 16.
15 for seminar, ''Police brutalities are always wrong''.
- l got 25 minutes.
- Erm Round it up to the nearest pound and just leave it on the counter.
- ls the pub opening? - What? l've got a thirsty coach party with money to burn.
Give me five minutes.
No problem.
l can wait.
Although l am on something of a hair trigger.
Oh, OK, let's be having you.
Ooh! (Laughs manically) Jeff, listen.
Personally l think you're out of the contagious phase.
- Do you feel well? - Yes.
- (Banging) - How many fingers am l holding up? - Nine.
- No, lower, lower.
- None.
- No, higher, higher.
Skip the finger test.
Do you feel well enough to handle a large party of holiday-makers? - Oh, yes.
- OK.
No, stop that now, Jeff.
Oh, that will not do.
Hang on.
Erm, right, put these on.
(Gibbering) Please, no.
Please.
(Snorting) No, you're not ready yet.
- (Key turns) - (Gasps) Hello, uptight, wealthy men.
This one's for me, by the way.
l've been locked in a room for three days.
l'm a bit dehydrated.
- (Man) So are we.
- Still, no complaints.
Oh, you look a lovely lot.
- What are you, then? Masons? - Rotarians.
Oh, fantastic.
Lovely part of the world, Rotaria, eh? Eh? Eh? (Laughs) l've still got it.
Oh, serve yourselves.
Gin's over there.
No, it's not, it's over there.
And pop whatever you normally pay into that glass jar there.
Come on, get on with it.
Get stuck in.
l've still got it, me.
All right? - Yes, postcards are £1 .
85.
- No, thank you.
Have you got any badly burnt body parts? Yes, yes, towards the back in section D.
- Um, hello, did you enjoy that? - Yeah, we did.
Good.
That's an extra £2.
50 each then, please.
And you'll be wanting some ice lollies.
(Gasps) Are you all right? Who's next? Young gentleman over there in the multicoloured T-shirt? - How are we doing? - We have 1 7 minutes.
l won't be back till Thursday.
Let's go.
Backpacker man, take over the till for 1 7 minutes.
- There are cameras watching you.
- Where? Everywhere.
They're very, very tiny.
Holly, wait.
Holly! Come on, Holly, that's it.
There we are.
Fine.
She's absolutely fine.
l'm sorry.
Right, who's sex? Next.
- How are you feeling? - Hot.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
- Hot.
Hot.
- Yeah, moving on.
- Hot! - Aaah! - There.
There.
So, just for the record, Holly, my lover, - have you got money stashed away? - Bog off! Right, that's the illness talking there.
- l think you're still a bit infectious.
- No, no! Sh, sh, sh.
Good girl.
Just a minute.
There, that's it.
OK, sh, keep still.
That's it.
That's it, stay calm.
Stay calm, good girl.
See? There's still fun to be had even at times of major illness.
- (Whimpering) - So, let the love-in begin.
Do you know where we might find Jake Trethowan? Yes, he's not very Why? He's taking us round the bay.
We're booked in.
That's right.
Erm - l'm doing it.
- No.
We were promised an authentic Cornish boatman.
Yes, well, l'm his daughter and l taught Dad everything he knows.
- Thank you.
- l'm not a witch, by the way.
- Come here.
- OK, stop it.
- That's enough.
- Stop it now.
l've got a jar of witches' kidneys, allegedly, and l'm not afraid to use them.
OK, any more money? That's it.
Yeah.
Lovely.
OK.
Shouldn't we be in two boats? Oh, no, no, you'll be perfectly all right.
OK, right.
Settle back, ladies, for the boat trip of a lifetime.
On your left, you have a cliff.
On your right, you have a cliff.
And round our legs is a lot of water which is most refreshing, isn't it? Don't worry, these Cornish fishing boats lie very low slung in the water.
lt's perfectly natural.
l bloody love you, Rotarians! (Cheering) Sorry, nine o'clock tomorrow morning.
? We're all going on a summer holiday ? No more working for a week or two - ? Fun and laughter on our summer ? - Thank you for coming.
- ? No more worries for me or you ? - Tell all your friends.
? For a week or two ? We're going where the sun shines brightly We're going where the sea is blue - Who wants some cash? - ? We've seen it in the movies ? Now let's see if it's true ? Everybody has a summer holiday ? Doing things they always wanted to ? So we're going on a summer holiday ? To make our dreams come true For me and you - That'll be a bank holiday to forget.
- Yeah.
- Still, just goes to show.
- Yeah.
What? - Oh, a lot of things.
- Like? Like, there's more to other people's jobs than meets the eye.
The body contains twice its weight in sweat.
You are immune to Cornish flu, probably cos you're not Cornish.
And 12 posh ladies plus handbags should not set out to sea in a boat the size of a small family car.
l thought l did have it earlier, though, you know.
l could feel the illness grab at my throat and just wring the life out of my body.
lt was as if a giant squid had wrapped itself around my chest and just squeezed and squeezed.
That will be your tight bra.
You ought to change it.
Yeah, it might be the bra, could be.
Do you know, l wouldn't have wanted Jeff's money.
lt would have left a horrible hollow feeling, spending that.
- That's tosh.
- Tosh and nonsense and bollocks.
lt was lovely, though, the way we all rallied round.
Yeah.
You wouldn't get that, would you, up London or Manchester? - No.
- No.
- Where's Holly? - l locked her in the shed.
Ah, well done.