Porridge (1973) s03e02 Episode Script
Poetic Justice
'Norman Stanley Fletcher, you pleaded guilty to the charges.
It is now my duty to pass sentence.
'You are an habitual criminal, who accepts arrest and imprisonment as occupational hazards.
'We commit you to the maximum term.
You will go to prison for five years.
' I've called you here as representatives of your respective cell blocks.
What's this all about? Just a minute.
The festive season is nearly upon us.
Aye, with all the jollity that entails.
Now, now, Jock, that's the wrong attitude.
What's the real meaning of Christmas? Apart from the crib and the swaddling, what springs to mind? Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Yeah, yeah Mr Mackay roasting on an open fire? That's Guy Fawkes Night.
Crackers and holly.
Tree tops glistening, children listening.
Leave out the Perry Como, would you? What do WE associate with Christmas, apart from robbing postmen? What? Drink! Drink? Yeah, that's what everyone does at Christmas.
They get bombed! Plastered! Elephant's trunk! Brahms and Liszt as the proverbial newt! I never understood that.
Are newts heavy drinkers? Godber, there's a security risk in here.
Well What ARE we doing in here, Fletch? Wine tasting! Wine tasting? Yep.
Unbeknownst to all, and purely out of charity, Godber and me have been fermenting liquor since July.
We started in July so it'd reach perfection at this festive season.
Fletcher, you're a marvel, a naffing marvel! I helped as well! Yeah, he helped a bit.
You dishing it out? I shouldn't have said "charity".
It's strictly business.
You're here .
.
to receive a sample so you can place orders for fellow felons.
Godber! We are offering two selections, gentlemen.
We have the two-star in the blue bottle, and the five-star in the bottle with the handle.
Hey, Godber! FLETCHER WHISTLES "Good King Wenceslas" Right.
As I was saying, we've got the two-star here, the "vin ordinaire", which isn't that "ordinaire".
And we have the five-star - the special "reserve", which we'll sample first.
Now, this should be sipped delicately like a fine liqueur.
It should not be smashed down the throat by the mugful.
I knew they'd like it! You might have washed the bottle out first! You sure it's fit for human consumption? No.
That's why you nurks are trying it.
This stuff's evil! It's got a whole week to mature.
This is the two-star.
It isn't quite so smooth.
So go carefully, or you won't only lose the flavour and the bouquet, you'll probably lose your powers of speech an' all.
Smells like embrocation.
Does a bit, yeah.
You could poison the whole prison! It's not easy to get the ingredients in here.
The potato peelings were no bother, but normally we'd never have used boot polish.
BOOT POLISH?! It's only a joke.
You sure? Course.
It's antifreeze.
Come in.
Morning, Governor.
Good morning, er Keegan, sir.
Oh, er, yes.
Keegan.
Thank you.
You're new, aren't you, Keegan? Not new in the prison, sir, just a new trusty.
I'm getting out soon.
Good, good.
See that you don't fall back into your old ways.
There's no chance of that since the wife passed away.
I'm so sorry.
When was this? A few weeks before I came inside.
What happened? I murdered her.
Wellsee that it doesn't happen again.
Morning, sir! Keegan.
Close the door, Mr Mackay.
Sir? That new trusty, Keegan.
No complaints, I hope, sir? The man's a murderer! Oh, yes.
But crime of passion.
'Crime passionnale', sir.
French.
Not a criminal type.
His sort of murderer makes a model prisoner.
Home Office figures show I'm not interested in statistics! I don't want my coffee brought by a wife-murderer! Very good.
Replace him, sir? Yes.
Well, now to the business in hand.
Oh, I always find Christmas a very difficult time.
So open to abuse.
Contraband, smuggling - every Christmas cake comes in laced with marijuana.
What are we doing about it? I've taken precautions - Mr Barrowclough's sampling food parcels.
Anything to report? He's still too stoned to tell me, sir.
What about drink? Always a problem, sir.
They're so ingenious at hiding it.
Once they concealed it in a fire extinguisher.
Only discovered because a fire broke out.
It was only a small fire, but after we used that extinguisher it became a raging inferno.
Disgraceful.
As you know, I'm a teetotaller, and strictly against drinking, legal or illegal.
Let's be vigilant and hope we get through Christmas with the minimum of incident.
I'll drink to that! Hardly appropriate! You'll see about replacing, er Keegan, sir.
Yes.
Incidentally, how did he kill his wife? Poison, sir.
Here, hang on, Lennie.
I think we've got burglars.
Who hasn't? What's all this? It's not just you.
We're doing the entire block.
Infringement of civil liberties! What are you looking for? Drink.
Drink? What, as in "drink"? You mean alcohol? The old mother's ruin? That is what I mean, yes.
But I'm a strict teetotaller! Fletcher, really! I am.
I don't touch tea and never have.
The pathetic state of the country's due to tea more than alcohol.
How? We invented the tea break, didn't we? And you've never done an honest day's work in your life! He's adding slander to breaking and entering! They've been at it all week! Last night when we were making soft toys for orphaned children, I saw Mr Barrowclough disembowel my panda.
Dear, dear! Don't you think I felt bad about that, and about sampling your food parcels? You felt good about it afterwards, I heard.
They found him in a sand bucket singing the desert song! I suggest you men tidy this cell up.
That's nice - exit the red shadow! You didn't find nothing, but there's no apologies.
It's a complete infringement of civil liberties.
It's an unjustifiable act of mistrust and suspicion! Yeah! Didn't find nothing though, did they? No, because we hid it too well! Get your mug.
Push that door to - don't want the neighbours to see.
Evening, sir.
What will it be? The usual.
Care for a drink first? Why not.
Large one? Mind your own business.
Have one yourself.
Thank you.
Cheers! URRGH! Prisoners 1, System 0.
Not necessarily, Fletcher! Oh, God! Time, gentlemen, please.
Come along, haven't you got no cells to go to? Left, right, left, right, halt, face the front.
Good morning, Mrs Jamieson, Mr Barrowclough.
Morning, Mr Mackay.
Morning, Mrs Jamieson.
Quiet, Fletcher.
Is the Governor in? He's indisposed.
He's in the what? He's not well.
Ever since he sampled the Christmas pudding.
I made that.
Nothing wrong with it.
You said that about your gluelash.
The word, Fletcher, is "goulash".
I chose the word advisedly, seeing as how most of us were stuck in the bog afterwards.
ATT-EN-TION! Bless you! Morning, Mr Mackay.
Not too good, I hear, sir.
Not too good at all, I'm afraid.
That prisoner you replaced, Keegan - you didn't put him in the kitchens, did you? No, sir.
I just wondered if he was extracting some terrible revenge.
I'd better have some of that vile stuff.
Come through, Barrowclough, but I warn you - I may not have long.
You see? A stricken Governor.
What sort of Christmas will he have? What sort of Christmas will you two have? Chuffed, aren't you? Yes.
You know the penalties for brewing illicit hooch.
Wasn't illicit hooch.
It was a health drink.
Poppycock! No, it is not poppycock.
Couldn't get the poppies.
Mind you, in here there's no shortage of Fletcher! I just mean it was a health drink.
We just got a thousand wine gums and pressed them in the press in the office.
The resultant brew is a remedy for known ills.
And some unknown ones.
You should give the Governor some.
The Governor's sick enough.
Stop it, you two.
I've always been attracted to older women.
As a lad, I wanted to be seduced by my sophisticated Aunty Pauline.
She worked in Smethwick and wore "Evening in Paris" behind her ears.
Behind her ears, yes, sure sign.
I nearly was, once.
What? Seduced.
I went round one afternoon, and she said, "Lennie, don't you think it's about time you learned how to foxtrot?" Well, even at the naive age of fourteen, I thought, "Foxtrot? Middle of the afternoon? Yum, yum!" Yeah, I bet! Should you go on in front of Mr Mackay? He's a strict Glasgow Presbyterian.
Sex is only allowed when Rangers beats Celtic.
I am not interested in Godber's carnal reminiscences.
Well, I am.
What happened then? Nothing.
What? Nothing happened.
She held me close and we danced round the living room accompanied by the Northern Dance Orchestra.
Oh.
Big room, was it? Your stories have a habit of tailing off like that.
You're the master of the anticlimax.
I can't half foxtrot, though.
KNOCK ON DOOR Yes? Hello, lads.
Hello, Reg.
It's old Reg, look.
What's the matter, got a bad arm? Oh, you're a trusty, now, are you? Replaced Keegan, thanks to Mr Mackay.
When a man keeps his nose clean, I don't forget.
Should I come back later? No.
Take the coffee in.
Er, your coffee, sir.
Oh, thank you, er U-Urwin, sir.
With a "U".
I-I'm the new trusty.
A very privileged position, Urwin.
That's why I've been so well behaved lately, so I'd get it and get on with my plan.
Yes.
Well, I'm afraid your plan will have to wait, Urwin.
Could you sign No! I'll take it with me.
Pity it wasn't in triplicate, eh? Where's he gone? He's got an upset tummy.
But he was instrumental in my plan! What plan's this, Urwin? I suppose a screw would do just as well.
Yeah, don't see why not.
I said, what is your plan? I want to get out of here.
We all want to.
But you don't want me to get out so soon.
That's why I'm taking you hostage.
It's a gun.
And it works.
And it's loaded.
Now, just a minute, er Urwin.
U-Urwin.
Why don't you put that gun down? So you can pick it up again? Think carefully about what you're doing.
I have.
Here's what I want you to do - first, shut that blind, second, get me a helicopter.
Go on! The Governor has things on his mind.
We could come back in the New Year.
Round about April.
I've got plenty of time.
I've waited long enough for this moment.
We might as well sit down, then.
Fletcher! Don't you come it with me.
I don't mind waiting.
It's worth it for a glimpse of Mrs Jamieson's Godber! .
.
Smile.
I apologise for these two.
Working in prison, I've learned to turn the other cheek.
And a very attractive cheek, too.
M-M-Mrs Jamieson I want to get in touch with the nearest RAF station.
RAF station? Well, I don't know where that is! W-Well, the F-Fleet Air Arm, or Air Sea Rescue.
Anyone who can get me a helicopter.
You're being a bit lavish with your Christmas presents.
What? Takes a lot of crinkly paper to wrap that up.
Quiet, Fletcher.
Is there a problem, Mr Barrowclough? Yes, Mr Mackay.
Something hascome up.
Come up? Yes.
I'm being held at gunpoint by Urwin.
What?! It's true! Just get on the blower, missus.
You off your rocker? Shut up! As you say.
All right, Urwin.
Give me that gun.
You make a move and Barrowclough gets it.
Urwin, I said give me that gun.
Shut up! This is no time for stupid heroics.
We can't let these people intimidate us.
He's pointing the gun at MY head.
Naff off, Mackay.
I'm taking him and her hostage.
Put the word out.
Well, do as he says, man.
Very well.
No panic, Mrs Jamieson, soon have you out.
And you, Mr Barrowclough.
Mr Mackay? Yes? Can we panic? You two, come along with me.
No! They stay.
I can use them.
Now naff off, Mackay.
I've found the number for RAF Topcliff.
Well you'd better get 'em then.
You don't want us here, do you? We're only littering up the place.
Why don't we go back to the cells? Busy day ahead.
Lock that door and put the filing cabinet up against it.
All right.
I have them on the line.
Mr Barrowclough? Shall I talk to them in there? Yeah, all right.
Er, Reg, is this all you wanted us for, to put this filing cabinet up? Yeah.
We'll be getting off, then.
Let's shift this, it's in the way.
Oy! Think I'm crackers or something? Possibly, Reg.
It ain't exactly the behaviour of a rational man, is it? I know what I'm doing.
Give me that key.
Right.
Now we'll just sit tight and wait.
Er I have a dental appointment in half an hour.
You'll have to bleedin' cancel it.
This is Officer Barrowclough of Slade Prison.
Thank you, Flight Sergeant.
I know there's only two shopping days left till Christmas, but there's some urgency here.
This is Reg Urwin.
I don't care how you do it, but I want a chopper here in half an hour.
I also want £10,000 in used notes, or I won't be responsible for my actions.
If they ring back and they're still stalling, tell them I'll shoot you.
Yes.
I'll try and remember that.
Bearing up? Pardon? Under the strain, like? Oh, yes.
I'm keeping busy, doing some of those jobs one's always putting off.
Otherwise, I might go to pieces.
Not you.
You strike me as being very British - stiff upper lip, calm under crisis.
Very sweet of you to say so.
I've always admired you from afar, Mrs Jamieson.
Why? You remind me of my Aunty Pauline.
Oh, yeah? Do I really.
I was just I know what you was justing.
Horny little beast.
He was trying to keep my spirits up.
KNOCK ON DOOR Come in.
Oh, you can't, can you.
Wait, who is it? Wait, who is it? Mackay with the coffee.
Mackay with the coffee.
OK, but watch it.
OK, but watch it.
Ta.
All right in there, Fletcher? We're all right, so naff off.
I can't believe this! In my prison! And at Christmastide! OK for you - we're suffering the ordeal! Enough, Fletch.
Lock the door and put that cabinet back.
Could you do me a favour? What? My socks are soaking in the basin.
Would you wring them out? Ah, here we are then, Urwin.
Oh, ta.
Mrs Jamieson.
Oh, thank you.
Ah, Fletcher, Godber.
Help yourselves to sugar.
Thank you.
Well, this is all very nice.
Never thought I'd be served coffee by a screw.
And in the Governor's office! Barriers come down in these cases.
Can I sit, then? BOTH: Yes, that's all right.
REG: Go ahead.
Thanks, Reg.
Here's to you, Reg, wherever you end up.
Where you thinking of going, Reg? Somewhere far away where they don't mind who I am as long as I can pay.
Somewhere corrupt where they turn a blind eye if you grease their palm? Isle of Wight? I was thinking of Mexico.
Funny people, Mexicans.
They're very, sort ofwell, Mexican, I suppose would describe them.
All the dogs limp there.
I didn't know that.
Yes, well-known.
It's to do with the food.
Food? A man wakes up, thinks about his horrible breakfast and kicks the dog.
And I'd always fancied Mexico.
Contrary to popular travel brochure myth, they're not a happy people.
I suppose anyone who has tequila as their national drink is bent on self-destruction.
I appreciate your advice.
I'll think of somewhere else.
You won't be going anywhere else, Urwin.
What? Don't you think we have a procedure for situations like this? Don't worry, Mrs Jamieson.
We won't be going down to Mexico.
What you on about? Why was I so polite, handing round the coffee? One of these cups was laced with a powerful tranquilliser.
In a few moments, Urwin, you will be safely asleep in the land of nod! SNORES Any word yet? Not yet, sir.
But everything's under control.
The rest of the prison's quiet, all in the cells.
Tea, sir? No, thanks.
So, they've no idea what's going on? Probably think somebody's gone over the wall.
So long as we keep the lid on this.
Stuff should have worked.
I used enough to knock out a rhinoceros.
I can't believe this is happening.
How did he get hold of the gun? Probably made it.
He's spent a lot of time in the machine shop.
Now we know why.
PHONE RINGS Everything all right, Barrowclough? What? Oh, I see.
Oh, yes.
Right, Urwin.
Right.
Yes, Urwin, right.
Oh, I'm sure I'll remember that.
What's happened? Urwin says thanks for the coffee, it perked him up.
Fletcher, however, is sleeping like a rhinoceros.
SNORES PHONE RINGS Hello? Just one moment, please.
Is that for me? No, it's not.
It's your wife, Mr Barrowclough.
Oh, dear.
How did she sound? The same as usual.
Oh, dear.
Er, may I? Be my guest.
Maybe she hasn't heard yet.
Hello, dear.
No, I hadn't forgotten, but I should tell you there is a chance I might be a bit late this evening.
Now, just a minute, Alice.
If you'd only give me a minute to explain I know I've been late three times this week already, but I'm being held at gunpoint as a hostage.
I know we're supposed to be going round to Mrs Wainwright's at eight.
Yes, it is rude and inconsiderate, but I may be going abroad in a helicopter.
Oh, Alice, I don't think you've heard a word At gunpoint, yes.
Well, there's Mrs Jamieson and two prisoners and myself.
What do you mean, "Oh, is that woman with you?" Of course she's coming too.
Neither of us has much option.
Of course I'm not glad.
This is pointless.
I may call later.
If I don't, watch the six o'clock news.
Does your old lady reckon you and Mrs Jamieson have got a thing going? Certainly not! Bet she don't believe all them late shifts.
People are bound to get on top of one another working in this place.
That is utter nonsense, Godber.
Our relationship is purely professional.
Should I clear those cups up, Mr Barrowclough? Hey, no need to be so formal, love.
We all know about you and him.
Oh, Henry! How could you? Dorothy, I never said a word.
Well, it never came from my lips! Zzzz Ah! Ohhh Where am I? In the Governor's office, remember? Godber and me never drink, sir.
We chew the occasional sock, but The Governor's not here, remember? You the new Governor, Reg? What you doing here? Hijacking Barrowclough, aren't I? How could I fall asleep in the middle of this lot? The coffee you drank was drugged.
Drugged? It was for Reg, but Mr Barrowclough messed it up.
I do feel most odd.
You be careful, Fletch.
Them drugs, on top of all that booze we had.
Thanks, Godber, I'll remember that.
So will I! Listen, we're on "World at One"! 'Details are confused.
Mrs Dorothy Jamieson, secretary, and a prison officer 'are being held at gunpoint by three desperate prisoners' Three?! '.
.
demanding transportation 'and a large sum of money.
In the City today' What's this about THREE desperate men? It said details were confused.
We'll be named! What'll my family think? What'll my wife think? Hope she's more considerate than mine.
Never mind your naffing families, what about me? Everybody knows, so why am I stuck here? Where's my helicopter? Look, Reg, don't build up your hopes too high.
What d'you mean? Realise they might not play ball.
Put yourself in their shoes.
They have to show that they won't bow to every nutter with a gun and fly him to sunnier climes.
I'm no nutter.
I know, I'm just using the establishment viewpoint.
And 10,000 is a lot of money.
Not excessive for a prisoner officer with twenty-three years' service.
Let's get this straight.
What you're saying is, they're calling my bluff.
They haven't taken me seriously.
There's nothing you can do! There is.
What? I could always shoot you.
Yes, well, I suppose you could do that.
Any public sympathy you might attract would fly right out the window if you maimed a screw.
Fletcher's right - just keep cool.
Yes.
I've been through this before.
Have you? Fletcher! First nick I was in.
A bloke called Popplewell, a trusty, got on a working party painting the Governor's house.
Next thing we knew, he was barricaded in there with Mrs Bailey.
Mrs Bailey? Yeah, the wife of Governor Bailey.
The Governor's name was Bailey.
She married him, which made her, in the eyes of the law, Mrs Bailey.
Oh, dear, dear.
I suppose you called him Old Bailey? Do you want to tell the story, Godber? I was just Yeah, well.
Please go on.
I'm losing the thread.
Get on with it! It's coming back.
Well, the screws were surrounding the place, the law was there, and the press and television cameras.
Even Fyfe Robertson turned up, but he was soon off back to the pub.
For three days the chaplain, the psychiatrist and the Governor appealed to Popplewell.
But never a word from him or Mrs Bailey.
What happened? On the fourth day, Mrs Bailey let him go.
You mean she was holding him? Yeah.
Why? Well, to use a phrase which was prevalent at the time, she'd never had it so good.
All right, Mrs Jamieson? What's happening? We've won a small victory.
He's extended his deadline till five o'clock.
I've time to finish this before he shoots us.
Or must I expect a fate worse than death? Is there a fate worse than death? No, I don't suppose there is.
That's the girl.
Here, are those prisoners' files? Yes.
Fish out Urwin's for me, would you? Why? It might help, who knows? Have a quick shifty.
I'm getting angry.
Where's the action? I'm waiting on the Governor.
I can't wait much longer.
Tense, Reg? Got to get out, I can't stand any more.
Just how I feel.
That's after half a day.
I've been here half me life.
There's parole.
Parole? They won't give it me.
Not a snowball's.
Never have, never will.
Got to get out.
Why this way? 'Cos if I don't, I'll top meself.
Suicide? You wouldn't, would you? I tried it once before.
Did you? How d'you get on? I failed, didn't I.
Oh, did you? Typical.
I was in a supermarket stealing a tin of luncheon meat.
I thought "Is this what my life has come to? Stealing luncheon meat?" You attempted suicide in a supermarket? I put me head down and charged the glass doors.
What went wrong? They was electric.
I ran straight into an off-duty policeman, who booked me for nicking a tin of luncheon meat.
Always one around when you don't want one.
Well, Reg, you're one of those blokes who doesn't get the breaks.
Not even with glass doors.
Today's typical.
You've planned months ahead to hijack the Governor.
The very day you choose, he chooses to get the runs.
Fletcher! What? What d'you want? Look at this.
Would you believe it? 3 times Urwin's been recommended for psychiatric treatment.
But he never got it, did he? The system done this to Reg.
I must talk to him.
Mrs Jamieson, would you come through? Er, Reg, could you come through and have a word with Godber and me, private, like? I dunno.
These two can't get up to nothing.
Well, they can, but I don't think they will Reckon you're right.
Have a look at that.
You might find it interesting.
Sit down, Reg.
You trust me, don't you? Maybe.
You won't make it.
Got to, Fletch.
I'm a three-time loser.
I assure you, there ain't no way.
All the arguments is on their side.
The worst thing .
.
would be if they said OK.
You know you'd never make it to that helicopter.
They got marksmen out there could shoot a fly's eyebrows off at four hundred yards.
And if flies had other things, they could shoot them off an' all.
And supposing you got to Mexico, you can't check in to the Acapulco Hilton looking like that, can you? They'd not let you in without a tie.
Me and the lad could've jumped you, easy.
Want to know why we didn't? Why? 'Cos it would've dropped you further in it than what you is now.
You've got to throw in the towel on your own.
Voluntary, like.
I won't lie.
They'll throw the book at you.
But I've seen your file.
You've got some sort of case - if you give yourself up.
No.
I'm going through with it.
Reg, think.
No.
I'm going the distance.
You don't give me much choice, then.
I'll have to take that gun off you.
You what? Come on, give me the gun.
Stay where you are, Fletch.
You won't shoot me, Reg, 'cos you're my mucker.
Don't bank on it.
Leave off, Fletch, he's serious.
He won't shoot me, me and him's mates.
Don't push it, mate.
QUIET SOBS Reg, now's not the time to give up, you've got to be in control, son.
What's the point? You've got to let them think you're giving yourself up, voluntary.
We'll back you up.
It's your only chance.
You'll back me up? Course.
It's still them and us.
I'm still on the side of us.
But .
.
you two could be heroes.
For what you just done, you could get a free pardon.
What do you think, Len? Well, it is Christmas, after all.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Goodwill to all men.
All that swaddling.
Go on.
On your way, son.
Maybe you're right.
But I'm still calling the shots, aren't I? Course! Course! Main thing is, you're not SHOOTING the shots.
Mr Barrowclough You're a marvel! You mean the gun? Yeah, well Never seen one like it, not even on Kojak.
I did have one small advantage over old Lollypop Head, didn't I? I happen to know the gun isn't loaded.
Isn't it? I was in the machine shop with Reg when he made it.
It's a toy.
You knew all along? Yes, but couldn't say or I'd have dropped him further in it.
You sure it's a toy? Course.
Look.
BANG! Ohh! Aargh! Evening, Fletcher.
Oh, hello, Mr Barrowclough.
This is nice.
Godber about? No.
He wanted to prove his Christmas pudding didn't upset the Governor, so he ate three helpings.
Three! My word.
Where is he now? Still in the bog.
He's got two to go, now.
How are you feeling, Fletcher, after our terrible ordeal? I'm all right, but me and the lads are still concerned about Reg Urwin.
Urwin will undergo psychiatric treatment.
He'll be not so much punished as helped.
Not before time.
And I had a word with the Governor.
In consideration of your conduct, the charges against you and Godber will be dropped.
Charges? Them unfounded allegations about us having illicit booze? Well, only right and proper.
Enough said.
All very well, but we won't get our booze back, will we? Hold these.
Yes, well, in return I would like to think that you could forget .
.
certain things .
.
that may have been revealed during those desperate hours.
Like what? The delicate matter of Mrs Jamieson and me.
I'd like it to go no further.
I don't know what you're talking about.
That's the spirit, Fletcher! If you're trying to say there's something you want me to forget, you're overlooking the fact that I was asleep part of the time.
I never heard nothing.
You didn't know about myself and Mrs Jamieson? No, sir.
But don't worry - I do now .
.
Henry.
It is now my duty to pass sentence.
'You are an habitual criminal, who accepts arrest and imprisonment as occupational hazards.
'We commit you to the maximum term.
You will go to prison for five years.
' I've called you here as representatives of your respective cell blocks.
What's this all about? Just a minute.
The festive season is nearly upon us.
Aye, with all the jollity that entails.
Now, now, Jock, that's the wrong attitude.
What's the real meaning of Christmas? Apart from the crib and the swaddling, what springs to mind? Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Yeah, yeah Mr Mackay roasting on an open fire? That's Guy Fawkes Night.
Crackers and holly.
Tree tops glistening, children listening.
Leave out the Perry Como, would you? What do WE associate with Christmas, apart from robbing postmen? What? Drink! Drink? Yeah, that's what everyone does at Christmas.
They get bombed! Plastered! Elephant's trunk! Brahms and Liszt as the proverbial newt! I never understood that.
Are newts heavy drinkers? Godber, there's a security risk in here.
Well What ARE we doing in here, Fletch? Wine tasting! Wine tasting? Yep.
Unbeknownst to all, and purely out of charity, Godber and me have been fermenting liquor since July.
We started in July so it'd reach perfection at this festive season.
Fletcher, you're a marvel, a naffing marvel! I helped as well! Yeah, he helped a bit.
You dishing it out? I shouldn't have said "charity".
It's strictly business.
You're here .
.
to receive a sample so you can place orders for fellow felons.
Godber! We are offering two selections, gentlemen.
We have the two-star in the blue bottle, and the five-star in the bottle with the handle.
Hey, Godber! FLETCHER WHISTLES "Good King Wenceslas" Right.
As I was saying, we've got the two-star here, the "vin ordinaire", which isn't that "ordinaire".
And we have the five-star - the special "reserve", which we'll sample first.
Now, this should be sipped delicately like a fine liqueur.
It should not be smashed down the throat by the mugful.
I knew they'd like it! You might have washed the bottle out first! You sure it's fit for human consumption? No.
That's why you nurks are trying it.
This stuff's evil! It's got a whole week to mature.
This is the two-star.
It isn't quite so smooth.
So go carefully, or you won't only lose the flavour and the bouquet, you'll probably lose your powers of speech an' all.
Smells like embrocation.
Does a bit, yeah.
You could poison the whole prison! It's not easy to get the ingredients in here.
The potato peelings were no bother, but normally we'd never have used boot polish.
BOOT POLISH?! It's only a joke.
You sure? Course.
It's antifreeze.
Come in.
Morning, Governor.
Good morning, er Keegan, sir.
Oh, er, yes.
Keegan.
Thank you.
You're new, aren't you, Keegan? Not new in the prison, sir, just a new trusty.
I'm getting out soon.
Good, good.
See that you don't fall back into your old ways.
There's no chance of that since the wife passed away.
I'm so sorry.
When was this? A few weeks before I came inside.
What happened? I murdered her.
Wellsee that it doesn't happen again.
Morning, sir! Keegan.
Close the door, Mr Mackay.
Sir? That new trusty, Keegan.
No complaints, I hope, sir? The man's a murderer! Oh, yes.
But crime of passion.
'Crime passionnale', sir.
French.
Not a criminal type.
His sort of murderer makes a model prisoner.
Home Office figures show I'm not interested in statistics! I don't want my coffee brought by a wife-murderer! Very good.
Replace him, sir? Yes.
Well, now to the business in hand.
Oh, I always find Christmas a very difficult time.
So open to abuse.
Contraband, smuggling - every Christmas cake comes in laced with marijuana.
What are we doing about it? I've taken precautions - Mr Barrowclough's sampling food parcels.
Anything to report? He's still too stoned to tell me, sir.
What about drink? Always a problem, sir.
They're so ingenious at hiding it.
Once they concealed it in a fire extinguisher.
Only discovered because a fire broke out.
It was only a small fire, but after we used that extinguisher it became a raging inferno.
Disgraceful.
As you know, I'm a teetotaller, and strictly against drinking, legal or illegal.
Let's be vigilant and hope we get through Christmas with the minimum of incident.
I'll drink to that! Hardly appropriate! You'll see about replacing, er Keegan, sir.
Yes.
Incidentally, how did he kill his wife? Poison, sir.
Here, hang on, Lennie.
I think we've got burglars.
Who hasn't? What's all this? It's not just you.
We're doing the entire block.
Infringement of civil liberties! What are you looking for? Drink.
Drink? What, as in "drink"? You mean alcohol? The old mother's ruin? That is what I mean, yes.
But I'm a strict teetotaller! Fletcher, really! I am.
I don't touch tea and never have.
The pathetic state of the country's due to tea more than alcohol.
How? We invented the tea break, didn't we? And you've never done an honest day's work in your life! He's adding slander to breaking and entering! They've been at it all week! Last night when we were making soft toys for orphaned children, I saw Mr Barrowclough disembowel my panda.
Dear, dear! Don't you think I felt bad about that, and about sampling your food parcels? You felt good about it afterwards, I heard.
They found him in a sand bucket singing the desert song! I suggest you men tidy this cell up.
That's nice - exit the red shadow! You didn't find nothing, but there's no apologies.
It's a complete infringement of civil liberties.
It's an unjustifiable act of mistrust and suspicion! Yeah! Didn't find nothing though, did they? No, because we hid it too well! Get your mug.
Push that door to - don't want the neighbours to see.
Evening, sir.
What will it be? The usual.
Care for a drink first? Why not.
Large one? Mind your own business.
Have one yourself.
Thank you.
Cheers! URRGH! Prisoners 1, System 0.
Not necessarily, Fletcher! Oh, God! Time, gentlemen, please.
Come along, haven't you got no cells to go to? Left, right, left, right, halt, face the front.
Good morning, Mrs Jamieson, Mr Barrowclough.
Morning, Mr Mackay.
Morning, Mrs Jamieson.
Quiet, Fletcher.
Is the Governor in? He's indisposed.
He's in the what? He's not well.
Ever since he sampled the Christmas pudding.
I made that.
Nothing wrong with it.
You said that about your gluelash.
The word, Fletcher, is "goulash".
I chose the word advisedly, seeing as how most of us were stuck in the bog afterwards.
ATT-EN-TION! Bless you! Morning, Mr Mackay.
Not too good, I hear, sir.
Not too good at all, I'm afraid.
That prisoner you replaced, Keegan - you didn't put him in the kitchens, did you? No, sir.
I just wondered if he was extracting some terrible revenge.
I'd better have some of that vile stuff.
Come through, Barrowclough, but I warn you - I may not have long.
You see? A stricken Governor.
What sort of Christmas will he have? What sort of Christmas will you two have? Chuffed, aren't you? Yes.
You know the penalties for brewing illicit hooch.
Wasn't illicit hooch.
It was a health drink.
Poppycock! No, it is not poppycock.
Couldn't get the poppies.
Mind you, in here there's no shortage of Fletcher! I just mean it was a health drink.
We just got a thousand wine gums and pressed them in the press in the office.
The resultant brew is a remedy for known ills.
And some unknown ones.
You should give the Governor some.
The Governor's sick enough.
Stop it, you two.
I've always been attracted to older women.
As a lad, I wanted to be seduced by my sophisticated Aunty Pauline.
She worked in Smethwick and wore "Evening in Paris" behind her ears.
Behind her ears, yes, sure sign.
I nearly was, once.
What? Seduced.
I went round one afternoon, and she said, "Lennie, don't you think it's about time you learned how to foxtrot?" Well, even at the naive age of fourteen, I thought, "Foxtrot? Middle of the afternoon? Yum, yum!" Yeah, I bet! Should you go on in front of Mr Mackay? He's a strict Glasgow Presbyterian.
Sex is only allowed when Rangers beats Celtic.
I am not interested in Godber's carnal reminiscences.
Well, I am.
What happened then? Nothing.
What? Nothing happened.
She held me close and we danced round the living room accompanied by the Northern Dance Orchestra.
Oh.
Big room, was it? Your stories have a habit of tailing off like that.
You're the master of the anticlimax.
I can't half foxtrot, though.
KNOCK ON DOOR Yes? Hello, lads.
Hello, Reg.
It's old Reg, look.
What's the matter, got a bad arm? Oh, you're a trusty, now, are you? Replaced Keegan, thanks to Mr Mackay.
When a man keeps his nose clean, I don't forget.
Should I come back later? No.
Take the coffee in.
Er, your coffee, sir.
Oh, thank you, er U-Urwin, sir.
With a "U".
I-I'm the new trusty.
A very privileged position, Urwin.
That's why I've been so well behaved lately, so I'd get it and get on with my plan.
Yes.
Well, I'm afraid your plan will have to wait, Urwin.
Could you sign No! I'll take it with me.
Pity it wasn't in triplicate, eh? Where's he gone? He's got an upset tummy.
But he was instrumental in my plan! What plan's this, Urwin? I suppose a screw would do just as well.
Yeah, don't see why not.
I said, what is your plan? I want to get out of here.
We all want to.
But you don't want me to get out so soon.
That's why I'm taking you hostage.
It's a gun.
And it works.
And it's loaded.
Now, just a minute, er Urwin.
U-Urwin.
Why don't you put that gun down? So you can pick it up again? Think carefully about what you're doing.
I have.
Here's what I want you to do - first, shut that blind, second, get me a helicopter.
Go on! The Governor has things on his mind.
We could come back in the New Year.
Round about April.
I've got plenty of time.
I've waited long enough for this moment.
We might as well sit down, then.
Fletcher! Don't you come it with me.
I don't mind waiting.
It's worth it for a glimpse of Mrs Jamieson's Godber! .
.
Smile.
I apologise for these two.
Working in prison, I've learned to turn the other cheek.
And a very attractive cheek, too.
M-M-Mrs Jamieson I want to get in touch with the nearest RAF station.
RAF station? Well, I don't know where that is! W-Well, the F-Fleet Air Arm, or Air Sea Rescue.
Anyone who can get me a helicopter.
You're being a bit lavish with your Christmas presents.
What? Takes a lot of crinkly paper to wrap that up.
Quiet, Fletcher.
Is there a problem, Mr Barrowclough? Yes, Mr Mackay.
Something hascome up.
Come up? Yes.
I'm being held at gunpoint by Urwin.
What?! It's true! Just get on the blower, missus.
You off your rocker? Shut up! As you say.
All right, Urwin.
Give me that gun.
You make a move and Barrowclough gets it.
Urwin, I said give me that gun.
Shut up! This is no time for stupid heroics.
We can't let these people intimidate us.
He's pointing the gun at MY head.
Naff off, Mackay.
I'm taking him and her hostage.
Put the word out.
Well, do as he says, man.
Very well.
No panic, Mrs Jamieson, soon have you out.
And you, Mr Barrowclough.
Mr Mackay? Yes? Can we panic? You two, come along with me.
No! They stay.
I can use them.
Now naff off, Mackay.
I've found the number for RAF Topcliff.
Well you'd better get 'em then.
You don't want us here, do you? We're only littering up the place.
Why don't we go back to the cells? Busy day ahead.
Lock that door and put the filing cabinet up against it.
All right.
I have them on the line.
Mr Barrowclough? Shall I talk to them in there? Yeah, all right.
Er, Reg, is this all you wanted us for, to put this filing cabinet up? Yeah.
We'll be getting off, then.
Let's shift this, it's in the way.
Oy! Think I'm crackers or something? Possibly, Reg.
It ain't exactly the behaviour of a rational man, is it? I know what I'm doing.
Give me that key.
Right.
Now we'll just sit tight and wait.
Er I have a dental appointment in half an hour.
You'll have to bleedin' cancel it.
This is Officer Barrowclough of Slade Prison.
Thank you, Flight Sergeant.
I know there's only two shopping days left till Christmas, but there's some urgency here.
This is Reg Urwin.
I don't care how you do it, but I want a chopper here in half an hour.
I also want £10,000 in used notes, or I won't be responsible for my actions.
If they ring back and they're still stalling, tell them I'll shoot you.
Yes.
I'll try and remember that.
Bearing up? Pardon? Under the strain, like? Oh, yes.
I'm keeping busy, doing some of those jobs one's always putting off.
Otherwise, I might go to pieces.
Not you.
You strike me as being very British - stiff upper lip, calm under crisis.
Very sweet of you to say so.
I've always admired you from afar, Mrs Jamieson.
Why? You remind me of my Aunty Pauline.
Oh, yeah? Do I really.
I was just I know what you was justing.
Horny little beast.
He was trying to keep my spirits up.
KNOCK ON DOOR Come in.
Oh, you can't, can you.
Wait, who is it? Wait, who is it? Mackay with the coffee.
Mackay with the coffee.
OK, but watch it.
OK, but watch it.
Ta.
All right in there, Fletcher? We're all right, so naff off.
I can't believe this! In my prison! And at Christmastide! OK for you - we're suffering the ordeal! Enough, Fletch.
Lock the door and put that cabinet back.
Could you do me a favour? What? My socks are soaking in the basin.
Would you wring them out? Ah, here we are then, Urwin.
Oh, ta.
Mrs Jamieson.
Oh, thank you.
Ah, Fletcher, Godber.
Help yourselves to sugar.
Thank you.
Well, this is all very nice.
Never thought I'd be served coffee by a screw.
And in the Governor's office! Barriers come down in these cases.
Can I sit, then? BOTH: Yes, that's all right.
REG: Go ahead.
Thanks, Reg.
Here's to you, Reg, wherever you end up.
Where you thinking of going, Reg? Somewhere far away where they don't mind who I am as long as I can pay.
Somewhere corrupt where they turn a blind eye if you grease their palm? Isle of Wight? I was thinking of Mexico.
Funny people, Mexicans.
They're very, sort ofwell, Mexican, I suppose would describe them.
All the dogs limp there.
I didn't know that.
Yes, well-known.
It's to do with the food.
Food? A man wakes up, thinks about his horrible breakfast and kicks the dog.
And I'd always fancied Mexico.
Contrary to popular travel brochure myth, they're not a happy people.
I suppose anyone who has tequila as their national drink is bent on self-destruction.
I appreciate your advice.
I'll think of somewhere else.
You won't be going anywhere else, Urwin.
What? Don't you think we have a procedure for situations like this? Don't worry, Mrs Jamieson.
We won't be going down to Mexico.
What you on about? Why was I so polite, handing round the coffee? One of these cups was laced with a powerful tranquilliser.
In a few moments, Urwin, you will be safely asleep in the land of nod! SNORES Any word yet? Not yet, sir.
But everything's under control.
The rest of the prison's quiet, all in the cells.
Tea, sir? No, thanks.
So, they've no idea what's going on? Probably think somebody's gone over the wall.
So long as we keep the lid on this.
Stuff should have worked.
I used enough to knock out a rhinoceros.
I can't believe this is happening.
How did he get hold of the gun? Probably made it.
He's spent a lot of time in the machine shop.
Now we know why.
PHONE RINGS Everything all right, Barrowclough? What? Oh, I see.
Oh, yes.
Right, Urwin.
Right.
Yes, Urwin, right.
Oh, I'm sure I'll remember that.
What's happened? Urwin says thanks for the coffee, it perked him up.
Fletcher, however, is sleeping like a rhinoceros.
SNORES PHONE RINGS Hello? Just one moment, please.
Is that for me? No, it's not.
It's your wife, Mr Barrowclough.
Oh, dear.
How did she sound? The same as usual.
Oh, dear.
Er, may I? Be my guest.
Maybe she hasn't heard yet.
Hello, dear.
No, I hadn't forgotten, but I should tell you there is a chance I might be a bit late this evening.
Now, just a minute, Alice.
If you'd only give me a minute to explain I know I've been late three times this week already, but I'm being held at gunpoint as a hostage.
I know we're supposed to be going round to Mrs Wainwright's at eight.
Yes, it is rude and inconsiderate, but I may be going abroad in a helicopter.
Oh, Alice, I don't think you've heard a word At gunpoint, yes.
Well, there's Mrs Jamieson and two prisoners and myself.
What do you mean, "Oh, is that woman with you?" Of course she's coming too.
Neither of us has much option.
Of course I'm not glad.
This is pointless.
I may call later.
If I don't, watch the six o'clock news.
Does your old lady reckon you and Mrs Jamieson have got a thing going? Certainly not! Bet she don't believe all them late shifts.
People are bound to get on top of one another working in this place.
That is utter nonsense, Godber.
Our relationship is purely professional.
Should I clear those cups up, Mr Barrowclough? Hey, no need to be so formal, love.
We all know about you and him.
Oh, Henry! How could you? Dorothy, I never said a word.
Well, it never came from my lips! Zzzz Ah! Ohhh Where am I? In the Governor's office, remember? Godber and me never drink, sir.
We chew the occasional sock, but The Governor's not here, remember? You the new Governor, Reg? What you doing here? Hijacking Barrowclough, aren't I? How could I fall asleep in the middle of this lot? The coffee you drank was drugged.
Drugged? It was for Reg, but Mr Barrowclough messed it up.
I do feel most odd.
You be careful, Fletch.
Them drugs, on top of all that booze we had.
Thanks, Godber, I'll remember that.
So will I! Listen, we're on "World at One"! 'Details are confused.
Mrs Dorothy Jamieson, secretary, and a prison officer 'are being held at gunpoint by three desperate prisoners' Three?! '.
.
demanding transportation 'and a large sum of money.
In the City today' What's this about THREE desperate men? It said details were confused.
We'll be named! What'll my family think? What'll my wife think? Hope she's more considerate than mine.
Never mind your naffing families, what about me? Everybody knows, so why am I stuck here? Where's my helicopter? Look, Reg, don't build up your hopes too high.
What d'you mean? Realise they might not play ball.
Put yourself in their shoes.
They have to show that they won't bow to every nutter with a gun and fly him to sunnier climes.
I'm no nutter.
I know, I'm just using the establishment viewpoint.
And 10,000 is a lot of money.
Not excessive for a prisoner officer with twenty-three years' service.
Let's get this straight.
What you're saying is, they're calling my bluff.
They haven't taken me seriously.
There's nothing you can do! There is.
What? I could always shoot you.
Yes, well, I suppose you could do that.
Any public sympathy you might attract would fly right out the window if you maimed a screw.
Fletcher's right - just keep cool.
Yes.
I've been through this before.
Have you? Fletcher! First nick I was in.
A bloke called Popplewell, a trusty, got on a working party painting the Governor's house.
Next thing we knew, he was barricaded in there with Mrs Bailey.
Mrs Bailey? Yeah, the wife of Governor Bailey.
The Governor's name was Bailey.
She married him, which made her, in the eyes of the law, Mrs Bailey.
Oh, dear, dear.
I suppose you called him Old Bailey? Do you want to tell the story, Godber? I was just Yeah, well.
Please go on.
I'm losing the thread.
Get on with it! It's coming back.
Well, the screws were surrounding the place, the law was there, and the press and television cameras.
Even Fyfe Robertson turned up, but he was soon off back to the pub.
For three days the chaplain, the psychiatrist and the Governor appealed to Popplewell.
But never a word from him or Mrs Bailey.
What happened? On the fourth day, Mrs Bailey let him go.
You mean she was holding him? Yeah.
Why? Well, to use a phrase which was prevalent at the time, she'd never had it so good.
All right, Mrs Jamieson? What's happening? We've won a small victory.
He's extended his deadline till five o'clock.
I've time to finish this before he shoots us.
Or must I expect a fate worse than death? Is there a fate worse than death? No, I don't suppose there is.
That's the girl.
Here, are those prisoners' files? Yes.
Fish out Urwin's for me, would you? Why? It might help, who knows? Have a quick shifty.
I'm getting angry.
Where's the action? I'm waiting on the Governor.
I can't wait much longer.
Tense, Reg? Got to get out, I can't stand any more.
Just how I feel.
That's after half a day.
I've been here half me life.
There's parole.
Parole? They won't give it me.
Not a snowball's.
Never have, never will.
Got to get out.
Why this way? 'Cos if I don't, I'll top meself.
Suicide? You wouldn't, would you? I tried it once before.
Did you? How d'you get on? I failed, didn't I.
Oh, did you? Typical.
I was in a supermarket stealing a tin of luncheon meat.
I thought "Is this what my life has come to? Stealing luncheon meat?" You attempted suicide in a supermarket? I put me head down and charged the glass doors.
What went wrong? They was electric.
I ran straight into an off-duty policeman, who booked me for nicking a tin of luncheon meat.
Always one around when you don't want one.
Well, Reg, you're one of those blokes who doesn't get the breaks.
Not even with glass doors.
Today's typical.
You've planned months ahead to hijack the Governor.
The very day you choose, he chooses to get the runs.
Fletcher! What? What d'you want? Look at this.
Would you believe it? 3 times Urwin's been recommended for psychiatric treatment.
But he never got it, did he? The system done this to Reg.
I must talk to him.
Mrs Jamieson, would you come through? Er, Reg, could you come through and have a word with Godber and me, private, like? I dunno.
These two can't get up to nothing.
Well, they can, but I don't think they will Reckon you're right.
Have a look at that.
You might find it interesting.
Sit down, Reg.
You trust me, don't you? Maybe.
You won't make it.
Got to, Fletch.
I'm a three-time loser.
I assure you, there ain't no way.
All the arguments is on their side.
The worst thing .
.
would be if they said OK.
You know you'd never make it to that helicopter.
They got marksmen out there could shoot a fly's eyebrows off at four hundred yards.
And if flies had other things, they could shoot them off an' all.
And supposing you got to Mexico, you can't check in to the Acapulco Hilton looking like that, can you? They'd not let you in without a tie.
Me and the lad could've jumped you, easy.
Want to know why we didn't? Why? 'Cos it would've dropped you further in it than what you is now.
You've got to throw in the towel on your own.
Voluntary, like.
I won't lie.
They'll throw the book at you.
But I've seen your file.
You've got some sort of case - if you give yourself up.
No.
I'm going through with it.
Reg, think.
No.
I'm going the distance.
You don't give me much choice, then.
I'll have to take that gun off you.
You what? Come on, give me the gun.
Stay where you are, Fletch.
You won't shoot me, Reg, 'cos you're my mucker.
Don't bank on it.
Leave off, Fletch, he's serious.
He won't shoot me, me and him's mates.
Don't push it, mate.
QUIET SOBS Reg, now's not the time to give up, you've got to be in control, son.
What's the point? You've got to let them think you're giving yourself up, voluntary.
We'll back you up.
It's your only chance.
You'll back me up? Course.
It's still them and us.
I'm still on the side of us.
But .
.
you two could be heroes.
For what you just done, you could get a free pardon.
What do you think, Len? Well, it is Christmas, after all.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Goodwill to all men.
All that swaddling.
Go on.
On your way, son.
Maybe you're right.
But I'm still calling the shots, aren't I? Course! Course! Main thing is, you're not SHOOTING the shots.
Mr Barrowclough You're a marvel! You mean the gun? Yeah, well Never seen one like it, not even on Kojak.
I did have one small advantage over old Lollypop Head, didn't I? I happen to know the gun isn't loaded.
Isn't it? I was in the machine shop with Reg when he made it.
It's a toy.
You knew all along? Yes, but couldn't say or I'd have dropped him further in it.
You sure it's a toy? Course.
Look.
BANG! Ohh! Aargh! Evening, Fletcher.
Oh, hello, Mr Barrowclough.
This is nice.
Godber about? No.
He wanted to prove his Christmas pudding didn't upset the Governor, so he ate three helpings.
Three! My word.
Where is he now? Still in the bog.
He's got two to go, now.
How are you feeling, Fletcher, after our terrible ordeal? I'm all right, but me and the lads are still concerned about Reg Urwin.
Urwin will undergo psychiatric treatment.
He'll be not so much punished as helped.
Not before time.
And I had a word with the Governor.
In consideration of your conduct, the charges against you and Godber will be dropped.
Charges? Them unfounded allegations about us having illicit booze? Well, only right and proper.
Enough said.
All very well, but we won't get our booze back, will we? Hold these.
Yes, well, in return I would like to think that you could forget .
.
certain things .
.
that may have been revealed during those desperate hours.
Like what? The delicate matter of Mrs Jamieson and me.
I'd like it to go no further.
I don't know what you're talking about.
That's the spirit, Fletcher! If you're trying to say there's something you want me to forget, you're overlooking the fact that I was asleep part of the time.
I never heard nothing.
You didn't know about myself and Mrs Jamieson? No, sir.
But don't worry - I do now .
.
Henry.