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The Inbetweeners S03E01 "The Fashion Show"
Sync & corrections: extreme
My name is Will McKenzie and my first year in state education
has been an unqualified success.
And by unqualified, I mean I failed all my exams.
That said, I have made three friends. Yep, three whole friends in one year.
And they're the sort of friends everyone should have. Ones that are so tragic,
- they almost make someone like me... - Feisty one, you are!
...look normal. But things were going to be different this year.
For one, Jay could now drive, meaning we had a choice
of which shit embarrassing car we got a lift to school in.
Simon's was more yellow, but Jay's was more dangerous.
Morning, benders. Jump in the minge mobile.
Strange thing to call your mum's car.
Jay driving us to school really did make me feel like royalty.
Unfortunately, the royalty I felt like was Princess Diana.
- Roundabout, Jay! - Give way to the fucking left!
Stupid old bint.
- I think it's the right, mate. - Is it?
Oh, wait, yeah, that does sound familiar.
- What's that in your ear? - Oh, it's a piercing.
It's just a stud for now, but my dad's mining me a diamond to put in it.
- Cool. - Hang on,
- have you had your left ear pierced? - Yes.
Isn't that the one you get pierced to show you're gay?
- Fuck off! - Oh, yeah, that is the gay one.
There's a quick way to tell, Neil - which ear has your dad got pierced?
- Neither, cos he's not bent. - Course not. Will, which ear is gay?
- I'm the last person to ask. - I thought you knew everything?
I don't know any men who've had their ears pierced cos I went to a private school.
- Why have you that done anyway? - I like to keep my look fresh.
Plus I'll probably need it for the fashion show tomorrow.
Oh, yes, the school charity fashion show. Where only people deemed good-looking enough
by other good-looking people get to take part and raise money.
- Well, there's going to be special guests. - Special guests?
I wonder who that's going to be? Maybe Beyonce and Jay-Z? The Obamas?
Look, I don't give a shit what you think about it, because when I'm up there modelling,
I'll have my pick of the snatch. Everyone knows male models get all the pussy.
- I didn't know they asked you to model, Jay. - They haven't yet. They haven't asked anyone.
- I think they have. - I'm telling you they haven't
- cos no-one's asked me. - But it's tomorrow.
Are you deaf? I've not been asked.
I'd be the first in line for any modelling work. Look at me.
- Well, I've been asked. - Fuck off!
Carli's one of the organisers and she's asked me to model.
You? Who wants a model that looks like a spotty baby
- crossed with the Statue of Liberty? - Statue of Liberty?
- His hair. - Oh, yeah.
It was hard to know where Jay got the idea he should be a male model.
It seemed like it just stemmed from a sense of thinking Simon was spectacularly ugly.'
Seriously, what clothes are going to look better on you than me?
- Apart from a paper bag for your fucking head. - Brilliant. Shall we give it a rest now, Jay?
Good morning. Shut up and let's get this over with. Right.
Wait a minute, Cartwright, what is that?
It's a stud, sir, and I don't mean the earring.
- Take it out or I will rip it out. - But... what about my human rights?
You have to be human for those to apply, Cartwright. Out, now.
Right, I'm sure that most of you will remember Alistair Scott.
- Yes, Sutherland? - I don't.
You sat next to him in registration for four years.
Oh, Alistair!
Well, thankfully, after a tough year,
they found a donor and he's finally on the mend.
In preparation for his return to school, he's coming in at lunchtime to answer
any questions you might have about his illness. Yes, Sutherland?
- Can I catch it? - No, you cannot catch kidney failure.
McKenzie, my office, 10 minutes.
What's Gilbert want?
Probably wants me to act as a chaperone for that Alistair kid.
Poor guy, imagine what he's been through.
- He's a dick. - Jay!
What? He is a dick. I never liked him when he was well,
I never liked him when he was ill, and I don't like him now he's getting better. Simples.
- Oh, he was all right. - No, he wasn't.
He was a complete bell-end. He was worse than Briefcase.
Thanks very much. Look, he's had a hugely traumatic time. Maybe he's changed.
He's not going to have got more interesting in a hospital bed attached to a drip for a year, is he?
What a sympathetic view of a life-threatening illness.
- And he used to stink. I'm not going. - Come on, Jay, there might be sausage rolls.
- Why would there be sausage rolls? - We had sausage rolls when my nan died.
- He's not dead, Neil. - Isn't he?
They still might have sausage rolls, though.
Fine, fuck it, I'll come, but I'm warning you, he's a dick.
If Jay thought Alistair was a dick, he was almost certainly a nice bloke.
Unlike Mr Gilbert.
- You wanted to see me, sir? - "Want" is an overstatement.
I'm putting you in charge of collecting the money for tomorrow's fashion show.
Last time they had a collection for charity, nearly half the money went missing,
and then the organisers started turning up in new trainers.
Well, whilst I'm really pleased that you think I'm trustworthy...
Oh, it's not that.
I just know that if anything did happen, I could break you.
Right. Well, the thing is, I object to the fashion show on a moral level.
- I'm sorry? - It's not about raising money,
it's a popularity parade. It's just the self-elected attractive people
using charity as an excuse to show off.
Well, this is a first. As it happens, McKenzie, I agree with you.
- You do? - Yes.
Great. So you understand why I'd rather not compromise my principles.
Yes I do, totally. Unfortunately for you, it's not the First World War.
You can't conscientiously object.
So, you either collect the money, or it's detention,
starting now and continuing indefinitely.
But...you said you agreed with me.
Yes, I know. It's a tricky one, isn't it?
OK, fine, I'll do it. But I'm still exercising my right to protest.
Good. Just make sure it's not a dirty protest like the last one.
Just as a stopped clock gives the correct time twice a day,
once a term, Neil gets something right.'
- Told you there'd be sausage rolls. - Look at him,
- fucking milking it. - Jay, he's in a wheelchair.
- He was always a bit lazy, though. - I don't think it's that, Neil.
Why is Carli finding him so funny? I mean,
what can he be saying that's so funny? He was never funny.
Excuse me, everyone, quiet, I want to talk.
I wanted to say super thanks to everyone
who's given up their time to take part in the fashion show tomorrow
to raise money for a new dialysis machine for St Margarets.
Especially all the sexy girls.
Did he just say "super thanks"?
No-one told me we was raising money for that twat.
- I might think twice about modelling tomorrow. - You're not modelling anyway.
It's going to be a gash-a-rama. I might try getting a job backstage,
so that way, I'll get to see some close-up flange, but for charity.
Hi, Simon. You coming to the rehearsal after school?
- Yeah, course. - How much rehearsal does it take
- to walk up and down in a straight line? - It's more for timings and stuff, really.
- Do you need any helpers, Carli? - Oh, brilliant, we do, actually.
Hardly anyone has volunteered and we really need people to help get the models dressed.
Christ, I knew they were stupid, but can't they even dress themselves?
It's for the quick changes, actually. Whip one outfit off and another on.
- If you're sure you don't mind, Neil? - Are you joking?
Great, thanks.
Hey, guys, everybody cool?
Hi, I'm Will, by the way, I'm relatively new.
Are you the kid who shit himself in the exam?
Nice to meet you, too. Now, I was wondering if you and I could have a chat about other ways
to raise money, ways that could include everyone, whatever they look like?
Yeah, could do, only you're not as pretty as Carli,
so I think right now, I'm going to chat to her, yeah? See ya.
- Carli? Carli? - Dick.
You don't think him and Carli are...
- If they are, I bet he's "wheely" good at it. - Brilliant.
I'm going to have to go. I've got a missed call from Ralph Lauren.
Didn't even ring, did it?
I'm well excited. Imagine the birds I'm going to see as a dresser.
It's not top international models, Neil, it's just girls from school that you see every day.
Yeah, but I think I'd fancy them a lot more if I saw them naked.
I'll say this for Neil, at least his ambitions were simple. See tits and or fanny.
Jay's were a lot more unrealistic.
- Carli, can I have a word? - I'm a bit busy. What's up?
I was just wondering if you need any more models for tomorrow?
- No, we're fine. - Good, good.
I don't know if you noticed but I've had my ear pierced.
Oh, right.
So do you think you could fit one more in now?
Well, no, because we only have a certain amount of clothes.
- I could wear my own clothes. - We're probably OK.
So I'm like "first reserve" then?
We haven't really got any reserves, so, sort of, no.
Cool, cool, cool. Simples.
How about a free ticket instead?
Well, it's for charity, so there aren't really any free tickets.
Yeah, nice one, Carls. I'll catch you later, yeah?
So Jay had a size zero chance of becoming a model, but Simon was practicing hard.
Simon's my best friend. This bloke is my best friend.
What the fuck do you think you're doing? Spying on me?
Spying, is that how you get your kicks?
It's all right. It's just I think we've found the new David Beckham.
Right, that's it. That is it.
I'm sick of you people. I'm leaving.
You're not going out now, you've got school tomorrow.
Yeah, run away at the weekend when you've got your car back.
Well, I'm not spending another second in this house with you utter twats!
Where are you going, Paris or Milan?
Fuck off!
He's just like Naomi Campbell.
So Simon was well on his way to becoming a supermodel.
He had the temperament, now all he needed was bulimia and a cocaine addiction.
The next night was the fashion show and I realised in my role as doorman,
I had the perfect opportunity to ruin everything for everyone.
I'm not saying don't give to charity, do give to charity.
I'm just saying you can give without supporting this vanity fest.
My daughter is one of the models.
- Then you've failed her. - What?
God, 5, please.
Will, I think it's so great you're helping out. I knew you'd come round.
I haven't come round! I still feel exactly the same about this sham popularity parade.
You're being such an arse! What is wrong with you?
Alistair nearly died. God!
- Carli! What did you say to her? - Nothing.
Maybe a small dose of the truth.
Will, seriously, you have to stop cock-blocking with all this principled shit.
Simon, if Nelson Mandela hadn't stood up for his beliefs, where would we be now?
- We wouldn't have Nelson's Column, for a start. - Yes, we would.
Right, I'd better have a piss before this starts.
- And a poo, Si? - What have you done?
- It's my new look. - What, the Pat Butcher look?
- I'd say more Pirates Of The Caribbean. - Exactly!
- If the pirates shopped at Matalan. - You won't be laughing
when I'm getting all the pussy cos I'm up on the catwalk.
You're not on the catwalk. You aren't modelling.
- I'm first reserve. - What, in case the models
fancy themselves so much they actually eat themselves?
- You would if you could, though. - What?
- Suck yourself off. - That's not what I meant.
Yeah, but I bet you've tried it. We all have.
I managed to lick the tip once, but it took a lot of stretching, twice a day for couple weeks.
- Well, thanks for sharing, Neil. - Right, I'm desperate for a piss.
Neil may have had dirty stretching powers, but what he really needed was X-ray vision.
- Oh, what the fuck is this? - It's a curtain.
Where's all the birds? I thought it would be wall-to-wall poontang in here.
- Presumably they're on the other side. - Well, why have they done that?
- We can't see them getting undressed. - For that exact reason, Neil.
Fucking bollocks! That's a spanner to my plan. There's got to be a hole.
Come on, you're meant to be getting my clothes ready.
Yeah, I think this is a little bit more important!
- You ready to go, yeah, Simon? - Yeah, nearly ready.
Great. We're having an after-party in the common room later.
Mark Donovan's got some booze, so you'll come to that, yeah?
Yeah, obviously. Amazing.
I was washing my hands and it splashed back onto my lap.
It's fine. Just make sure everything is spotless for the runway, yeah?
- I'm really sorry. - It's OK.
I've got to run. There's a million things to deal with. Oh, Neil?
- Do you know which boys you're dressing? - Boys? I thought I was dressing the girls?
No, of course not. You and Mr Kennedy are dressing the boys.
You were the only volunteers. See you later.
Oh, no.
Paedo Kennedy? I suppose at least if you run out of space you'll be able
to hang the clothes on the end of his erect cock.
So, no naked girls for Neil. Just a sexual predator in a waistcoat.
Meanwhile, I was having difficulty convincing proud parents to join my boycott.
- Charity, not vanity! - Hello, stranger.
- Charlotte! - Hi.
- Charlotte. Here! - Yeah, good spot.
Yes! No! I mean, what are you doing here?
Well, I had a reading week, so I thought I'd come home.
I didn't know this was your sort of thing. You know, fashion.
Oh, it's not. I think it's shit and everyone taking part is a vain, talentless twat.
- I'm in it. - Apart from you. And maybe Si.
Why did no-one tell me you were in it?
I didn't know if I could make it, so they put me down as a "special guest",
just cos I once did some catalogue modelling.
- Underwear? - No.
You are going to come and watch me though, aren't you? Even though I'm a "talentless twat"?
Yeah! No, I was only joking. Oh, yeah, I'm really behind this whole thing,
- taking the money, helping set it up... - Why are you trying to ruin this event, McKenzie?
- Good timing. - Do you think kidney patients like me
- should die? Is that it? - Come on, mate. That's a bit extreme.
- Is he trying to stop you coming in too? - No, I'm one of the models.
Oh, you must be Charlotte.
Wowzeroony!
Are you aware this weasel's trying to stop people giving money to charity?
- Will? - No, that's not...entirely correct.
Alistair, why don't we go chat about this somewhere different, eh?
- No, let's talk about it here. - Wasn't a request. See you later, Charlotte!
What are you doing? Are you trying to wheel me away?
This thing's got brakes, you know. You can't just roll me off!
You're trying to sabotage this event.
I won't stand for it.
You know what, I... I won't stand for it. I won't have it.
This is my special day and you're trying to ruin it!
I'm going to go and get ready.
Well, I think I got away with that. Brilliant.
At the school fashion show, Simon's big moment had almost arrived.
- And Neil didn't give a shit. - Neil, give me a hand.
This is torture. I've spent a week thinking about the snatches back there.
- I'm in a rush, Neil. - I reckon Sarah Bell's got lovely nipples,
- and I bet Jo Larken shaves her pubes. - We can hear you, you pervert.
- Who said that? - It's only a curtain,
- we can hear everything you're saying. - Shit. He's really sorry.
I recognise one of the voices, it's Simon Cooper.
- Do something, Neil. - How big are Sarah Bell's nipples?
- Right. That's it I'm getting a teacher. - Shit. Thanks, Neil, good job.
- All right, Yves Saint le Ponce, what's going on? - Neil's getting me in shit.
They've put a curtain up so we can't see the clunge. It's totally sexist.
The crafty fuckers. They tried this when we did the school play.
We cut a hole in the curtain and stuck our knobs through. It was well horny.
- We were getting noshed-off between scenes. - We can still hear you.
- And that never happened. - Simon, you're on, hon.
- It's models only back here. - Yeah, but look. Two.
The left one looks infected. Please hurry up, Simon, you're on next.
Can someone just help me with my fucking cufflinks, please?
All right, precious. I'll help you. But if you haven't got them on in 30 seconds
- I'm going out there in your place. - No, you aren't.
The girls said there was some sort of problem back...
Come on, we'd better get you out of these clothes.
But, Sir, I'm not modelling.
You should be.
As Neil swerved the advances of a man who it seemed incredible the school employed,
the world's least stylish fashion show got underway.
Our first collection's theme is glamorous nights,
and is put together, incorrect tense, by Carli D'Amato.
Modelling, that should be two Ls, these gorgeous outfits
are the equally gorgeous... Christ who wrote this...
Stephen DeBell, Richard Murray and Simon Cooper.
I'm not sure what the word for the opposite of cool is,
but I think I know what it looks like.
Sadly, I couldn't enjoy Simon's dreadful modelling for long.
I had a two-wheeled nightmare on my case.
McKenzie!
- You try anything like that again... - I think we got off on the wrong foot...
Is that meant to be a joke about the chair? I can walk, you know, I just get tired easy.
No, it's not that. I think we just differ on ways to raise money.
I happen to think that this is exclusive and about vanity.
And I happen to think you're a wanker!
- That's not very mature, is it? - Even in this chair, I could kick your arse.
I could kick your arse right in.
- Let's not make a scene. - Come on!
You're mental. He's mental!
Fuck you!
Will, you've got to help me. I was supposed to be modelling with Paul Keenan,
but he got so nervous, he drank a bottle of vodka and passed out. Please, will you take his place?
Me?
He won't do it, he thinks it's exclusive vanity.
- Right. - No, he's talking shit, it's the painkillers.
- Of course I'll do it. - Great.
- What?! You hypocrite! - OK. Right, you, time for a sleep.
- Don't touch me! - Come on!
- Is he OK? - Yeah. He's fine.
He gets very grumpy when he's tired.
Yes, this is going really well. Amazingly, no cock-ups so far.
Well done, you've mastered walking like a knob and looking like a dick at the same time.
This is actually enjoyable in an "I'm shitting myself" kind of way.
If you've shit in them trousers, I'm ain't touching them.
- Of course I haven't. - You walk like you have.
- Neil, quick, I need help getting dressed. - You are dressed.
Dressed into something else. This. For the fashion show,
- I'm modelling in the fashion show. - That's not happening, I'm first reserve.
- No, no way! - What's up with you?
- I thought this was the worst sort of vanity? - Yeah, well, I've changed my mind.
Somebody pulled out and Charlotte asked me to fill in. So give me the clothes.
Now it makes sense. One flash of Charlotte's tits and your morals go out the window.
We can discuss my morals later, after I get these fucking jeans on! God, they're tight.
It can't be comfortable to wear jeans this tight every day.
Here. Let me help.
Well, this is fucking bang out of order! I'm first reserve!
It was me Charlotte wanted, she chose me, that's the only reason I'm doing it.
- They'll be sorry. I'll show them. - Columbine massacre show them,
- or futile gesture show them? - Whatever's worse.
Neil, you just brushed my penis there.
Yeah.
- That's the second time. - Yeah, I know.
Of course, the only reason I was taking part in the fashion show was to get my penis brushed.
But by Charlotte. Not Neil.
Well done for getting ready so quickly. Exciting, isn't it?
Yeah. Look, I just wanted to say, I'm really pleased you picked me. It means a lot.
- I didn't have a choice, really, did I? - Didn't you?
No, we had to find someone to fit the clothes and I was like,
"Who do I know that's really short?" And then obviously I thought of you.
- Is that really the reason? - No, not really.
They let me choose who I wanted, and I chose you.
- Thanks, Charlotte. - Although it did have to be someone short.
- Right. - And the next theme is...
'70s Disco.
Oh, brilliant.
I'm a principled man. And one of those principles turns out
to be I'll do literally anything a girl I fancy asks me to.
All right. I'm willing to admit I also got a bit carried away.
But they do say a woman can tell a lot about what a man's like in bed
from the way he dances. Which meant that if I did pull Charlotte,
she'd be expecting surprising enthusiasm, a lot of finger-work,
and an abrupt stop when I remembered where I was.
Meanwhile, backstage, Neil was finally experiencing some job satisfaction.
- Fucking hell. At last. - Simon, there's been a slight change of plan.
Chris Yates was meant to be wearing this for my sexy finale.
But he's just taken off his shirt and his back is disgustinglyhairy so I sacked him.
- I thought this was for charity? - You know when you get hair
caught in the plughole, and it gets matted and wet?
His back looked like that, it nearly made me vomit, so he's sacked. Anyway,
it means that I need you to wear this instead for the sexy finale.
- Are they Speedos? - You've been brilliant all night.
Plus you've got a great body. Please, for me?
- Of course. - Thanks.
See you out there. You've got one minute.
This is so fucking unfair! So I'm not even second reserve now.
- Who's she going to ask next, Big John? - Do you want to wear the Speedos?
What's the point?
Mate, your ear don't look great, it's covered in puss.
Fucking hell. I'd better get this looked at. Good luck, boner.
Try not to get a stiffy in them Speedos.
He's right, you're in trouble. I nearly shot my bolt just looking at her,
and all she was doing was standing here.
Did you hear what she said? She thinks I've got a great body.
If I could just do this one thing for her, who knows what could happen?
I know. You'll get a boner in front of the whole school.
And in Speedos, there is no hiding it, trust me.
It's only a couple of minutes, I can do it.
- I can do this. - Simon, are you ready yet?
Can you give me a hand, Neil?
Nah, you're all right.
Simon!
That was so amazing, so brilliant. I could not have done it without you.
- How was it? - He was brilliant!
- Was he? - Yeah, he was all, like, "Yay!"
- I wasn't entirely "yay". - And now, ladies and gentlemen,
- it's time for the grand finale. - Come on, Simon, we're on.
- Are you all right? - Please don't distract me.
Simon was concentrating so hard on not getting a boner,
that he was oblivious to what can only be described
as quite a serious wardrobe malfunction.
I loved that. Seriously, thank you, Will. I'm so grateful.
It was nothing, just what was left of my dignity.
Come on. It wasn't that bad. And what other guy would have done that for me?
I mean, Uni's great, but there's no-one there like you.
- Shut up. - Seriously,
all I want is a boyfriend like you. You're funny, and you're sweet,
and you're kind to me.
I think I'd be happy if I had someone in my life just like you.
Well, what about me?
No, no, not you. No, no, someone like you.
You're so funny. Not you, obviously.
Come on, lovely, let's go for a drink.
No, I'm OK, thanks. I'll just wait here, I think.
OK.
Nice one, twat-face, good dancing. All that whining and complaining, for what?
Nothing. You're what they call a sanctimonious prick.
Yes, well, good to talk to you again, Al. Is that all?
No.
I hope one day you get a serious illness, too.
Oh, fuck off, Alistair, you dick!
- You're a dick. - You're a dick!
- You were great! - Bit of a weird reaction.
It wasn't meant to be funny. It was meant to be glamorous.
- You're a dick! - No, you're a dick!
Guys, come on, calm down, don't spoil a good evening.
We've put on a great show and raised a hell of a lot of money.
- You know your testicle's sticking out? - What?
Is that why everyone was laughing? Has it been out the whole time?
Oh, my God, you've been walking behind me, mocking me.
You've ruined my big night. I thought you liked me, you arsehole!
- Carls, it's all right. It's cool. Come on. - Carli, listen, please.
- Bit overdramatic, it's only a bollock. - Fucking hell, I'm going to kill Neil!
- Didn't you feel a draft? - It was tingling,
but I thought it was nerves. Oh, god. Do you think people saw?
Yes. It was eye level for most of the audience.
God, no! No!
Suppose you thought that was funny, did you? Your little joke's got you in a lot of trouble.
- Honestly, it wasn't a joke. - No,
there is nothing funny about testicles, Cooper,
as you'll discover tomorrow in my office.
- What? - Sorry, sir.
- That sounded a bit weird. - No, it didn't.
See me tomorrow.
It did sound weird. And talking of weird...
Right, then, let's get you out these clothes.
- Sir, I told you I'm not modelling. - No, you are, you are.
I had a word with the man. The man said.
The show finished ten minutes ago.
You been drinking, sir?
Come on, John. Let's go and get some fresh air.
I'm putting my fucking neck on the line for you, John!
So we headed home, Simon having learnt at least one thing.
Never put on Speedos in a rush.
Why did you agree to wear it in the first place?
Carli told me to.
Even with your whole sack covered, you'd look ridiculous.
Speedos, DMs, top hat and a leash. What maniac designed that?
Who thought, "What's fashionable? Dressing like an upper-class mental patient."
- Did you get that boner, Si? - No.
Well done.
But my left bollock was sticking out the entire time.
- Fucking hell! Unlucky. - I blame you.
- All right, gays? - How's your ear, Jay?
Perfect. That's why I've got to wear this massive bandage.
- That's your modelling career fucked. - He never had a modelling career.
I'm not bothered cos I fucked the nurse that looked after me.
The St John's Ambulance lady?
- Yes. - Isn't she Warren Duncan's nan?
Nah, there was another one that looked like Lucy Pinder.
- Course there was. - We going to this party, then?
- I'm definitely not going. - Nor me, I think I'd burst into tears.
- Oh, what, cos you're so unpopular? - No, Neil, because of Charlotte.
- What happened with her, then? - She basically told me
- I had no chance, at all, ever. - I told you that!
Yeah, but funnily enough, it hurt more coming from her.
- You know I snogged her once. - No, I did not know that!
I could have sworn I told you.
I think I would have remembered such crushing news.
- Don't worry, it was after you. - That makes it worse.
- Now it's like a betrayal, too. - Was it just a snog?
Neil, please.
Yeah, course, mate. Course. Just a snog.
Well, that's something.
I'd learnt a few things that week myself. None good, all bad.
Jay's driving is worse than his fashion sense.
Neil is catnip for paedos.
Just because you've only got one kidney doesn't mean you're not a total dick.
And Simon has extremely hairy balls.
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