Catterick | Series 1 Episode 2 | Dead Parrot

Episodd 2 of Vic and Bob's cult road comedy, starring Matt Lucas, Charlie Higson and Morwenna Banks.

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My name is Carl Palmer.

I've returned home to find the son I abandoned
in Catterick when he was just four years old.

This is the story of that search.

- Our Carl, I'm over 'ere!
- It's nice to see you, man.

- Let's get the pints in, eh?
- Good to see you!

- How are we gonna get to Catterick?
- By car.

- We haven't got a car.
- Let's go get one, then.

- I was interested in one of your cars.
- Let's go for a test drive.

- All right?
- Jesus, who's the monkey?

Watch your mouth, mate, that's me brother.

- Oi! Fuckers.
- Whoo-hoo!

You two are dead.

(CHRIS) So where to now?

Where else but a four-crown-rated
English Tourist Board hotel?

What level of luxury is four crowns?

Oh, it's the best, man, you know.

You've got en suite TV and bath,

minibar, 24-hour room service,

tea and coffee-making facilities,
in the room, mind.

So basically it's the ultimate in luxury.

Nah, Chris, that would be five crowns.

- So what do you get for the extra crown?
- A nightly pillow chocolate and slippers.

Oh, man, that's too much luxury.
A man could suffocate in such luxury.

(SIREN)

(AMERICAN ACCENT) OK, listen up.
I am Detective Fowler,

and I will be leading this investigation
to its dreadful conclusion.

Cordon off this entire area
with the finest silken thread.

Erect roadblocks on every adjacent highway
and seal off every potential escape route.

To work!

Double vodka, please.

- What?
- Double vodka.

Oh.

You know, a couple of rooms
at the Mermade have got four-posters.

So? I've got five posters on my wall.

Well, four and a 'alf.
I ripped George Clooney when he left ''ER''.

Oh, that's a shame, that is.

You got a lot of pleasure out of that poster.
Have you found a replacement yet?

Yes, I've looked round
and I've found a replacement poster.

- Oh, yeah, what is it?
- Kevin Bacon.

I'm sorry, I don't know him.

Oh, right, him out of ''Footloose'', yeah.

Hold on a minute, Chris.

I'm not 'appy with this, Chris. I'm not 'appy at all.

- I've been stupid, haven't I, Carl?
- Yeah, you have a bit, to be honest.

What's happening over the road?

I don't know. There was a robbery or something.

Quite dramatic.
Took the owner away in an ambulance.

Was he dead?

I don't know. I don't think so.

They took him out on a stretcher.
He had tubes attached and all that shit.

He were flattened like a spatchcock.

- What?
- It's a type of flattened chicken.

- D'you want one? We're doing a special...
- No! Did anyone see owt?

Don't know.

The police talked to Ian and Glen for ages.
Five pound.

Oh, right. Thanks very much.

D'you know, Chris, you're just being stupid.

It was a perfectly good George Clooney poster.

Someone else could have got
a lot of pleasure out of it too,

and you've just ripped it in 'alf.
It's ridiculous. I'm going to get some air.

(Sorry.)

Terrible business over the road. Did you see?

No, no. To be honest, we were busy
drinking with a mate and his brother.

- He's just out of the army.
- You don't mean Carl, do you?

Blond hair? Short-arse?

- Yeah. D'you know him?
- Know him? I served with him in the...

Battle of Britain.

(Shit.)

Oh, I've missed him, 'ave I?
It's just I owe him some money.

I wish I'd caught him. How unfortunate.
Do you have an address?

I imagine he's staying with his brother Chris.
I'll write it down for you if you like.

Hey, baby man,
I need to see your mate and his monkey.

Now give me the address.

It's all right, man, Glen, it's his friend.

Last chance, baby man!
Now give me the address!

Hey, thanks. Really. It's a great help.

I'll go and catch up with him now.
See you around.

'Ere, d'you reckon a crabstick dispenser
would go down well in the toilet,

next to a blob machine?

Lads? Lads?

So there I was, surrounded
by dirty bum-lickin' scumbags

in one of the most notorious brothels
on the Eastern Seaboard.

A cop alone and in serious trouble.

What they didn't know was that I had
concealed my pistol in my Tooperware box.

Yes, I owe my life to Tooperware.

Yes, what is it, Sergeant Mingemungeington?

Sir, er...what's Tooperware?

You know, it's an airtight, see-through
range of plastic convenience boxes.

For transporting cookies, pretzels,
turkey jerky, corn muffins...

Er...it's pronounced ''Tupperware'', sir.

OK, I concealed my pistol in my Tooperware box.

OK, enough already. We've got work to do.

I want that Range Rover. I want it yesterday.
It is my destiny to confront this beast.

May the police force be with you. My God!

The Mermade.

Has Mr Clooney heard about what you've done?

- How d'you think that would make him feel?
- Look, I'm sorry!

You're gonna write a letter of apology, Chris,
that's what you're gonna do.

Help you?

Could I check in? I'm Palmer.
I've got a double room for two nights.

Oh, yeah. Mr Palmer.

Are you here for fun or specially for the flotilla?

They say it's gonna be the best ever this year.

Erm...no, not for the flotilla.
We're just 'ere for fun, I suppose. And a rest.

- I've just had a long flight from Cyprus.
- Mm, Cyprus, eh? How exotic.

- I expect you've still got the shits, have yer?
- Sorry?

No, no, no, I'm nice and, er...
nice and stiff, thanks.

I had six hard-boiled eggs on the flight.

Six? No way. You're tickling my turnips, in't yer?

No, I wouldn't do that.
It's an old army trick. Honest.

Oh. Is it?

- So, this flotilla's popular, is it?
- Very. Did you not 'ear about last year's?

It was terrible. Three ships lost, 27 sailors injured,

hundreds of spectators inconvenienced for months,

all because one woman took it upon herself
to bare her breasts in a gale force seven.

Still, seems to be better organised this year.

- (WHEEzES)
- Ooh, whoops-a-daisy.

Is that for your asthma, is it?

- No, just makes me feel better.
- Yeah, it does, doesn't it?

- Doesn't last long.
- Oh, that's a shame.

So, er...Mr Palmer,
that's room seven on the second floor.

- Someone will take you up.
- I like this, but the 'ead's too big.

(MUSIC: ''KINKY BOOTS'')

# Everybody's going for
those kinky boots, kinky boots

- # kinky boots #
- I'll give you head in a minute.

Leave my fountain alone!
How would you like it if I fingered YOUR rim?

I'm not bothered.

Here we are, gentlemen.

Oh! Can we go anywhere in the room we want?

Of course, sir, we allow, er...
complete freedom of movement.

Who made the bed? Your mam?

- Er...no, a chambermaid does it every day.
- I know.

(HINGES CREAK)

(TV NEWS BROADCAST)

Now we return to today's main i' em,
the daylight robbery of Neil 's Wheels.

(FOWLER) Yes, I can confirm that we are
linking today's attacks at Neil 's Wheels

with a similar occurrence last week at Car Pavilion.

And can I assure you that I, DI Fowler,

will catch this dickhead,
using the most advanced DNA techniques.

I can smell his scent,

and I will pursue him
over swamp, over dale. My God!

A...are you 'ere for the flotilla, Mr Palmer?

Ah, no, not really. Although we've heard
it's gonna be good this year, yeah?

Bound to be better than last year's.

It was a bloodbath. Don't know how many died.
It was too 'orrible to count.

It was summat to do with a woman
getting her cowies out, wasn't it?

You know, getting her, erm...
her bosoms out, yeah?

Oh, yeah. The bitch.

Look, Carl! Slippers! They're not meant
to be 'ere. It's only four-crown.

Oh, that's a new thing.
We're trying to obtain a fifth one.

Well, we don't want 'em.

We came 'ere to relax, not to suffocate.

Er...as you wish.

(PHONE RINGS)

(That's sick!)

How could anyone do that?

- (ANSWERPHONE BEEPS)
- (IAN) Hello, Chris ? Carl?

I'm just phoning to say
that there's some fella after you.

He's a nasty piece of work. Gave
some bullshi' about owing you money.

We had to give him your address
and he got qui' e violent.

I didn't say you were going to the Mermade,
so you'll be Ok there.

So take care. Oh, hey, he's a short lad,
about five foot tall, a bi' piggy-faced...

I say, mate, what's the name of the receptionist?

- Tess.
- Tess.

- She's a lovely lass, i'nt she?
- Oh, mm.

Has she got a boyfriend or owt?

Oh, yeah. She lives 'ere
with the hotel manager, Mr Roy Oates.

- He's a lucky lad, then, i'nt he?
- (SIGHS)

Anyway, er...dinner is served
from 6.30. And, erm...

Well, er...I don't know if you're interested,

but I am the resident DJ
at the jazz fusion disco in the bar.

Everything from Spyro Gyra to Weather Report,

with a guest appearance
by Average White Band at 2200 hours.

# A doodle da, diddly da, doodly deh-deh
Da-da de-deh, pick up the pieces #

- I know that one, yeah.
- Oh, yeah.

There should be some women there,

but there won't be. And, er...

I'll leave you to freshen up and do your ablutions.

My name's Mark if you should need anything.

- OK. Pleased to meet you, Mark.
- You too, Mr Palmer. It's a p-pleasure.

- Yeah, bye.
- Yeah. I'll see you, then.

- Hello, Mummy?
- Hello, Tony.

I'm just phoning to say I'll be late for tea.

I have to pick up some, er...cutlery
from the Mermade Hotel.

- It's for the pop-in centre.
- You're such a good lad.

- I'll be as quick as I can.
- I want you back for teaI

- Yes, I promise.
- OK, love, I'll see you at teatime.

- Bye.
- Bye.

(GOBBLING)

(COCKS GUN)

(HAIRDRYER)

- Chris, pass me the phone, please.
- Why?

- Because I wanna make a phone call.
- Who to?

It's none of your business, Chris.
Just pass me the phone.

It's George Clooney, innit?

Yes, actually, Chris. Now, give me the phone.

No, Carl, don't do it. Not with this phone.
Don't tell George Clooney I ripped his poster.

Too late now, Chris.

Hello, could I speak to George Cloo...
Oh, it is you, George. Hello there.

Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.

Yeah, I was phoning about me brother Chris.

Yeah, yeah, with the woolly hair.

I'm sorry to tell you this, George,
but he's ripped one of your posters in half.

Oh, try not to be so upset, George, man...
Yeah, of course you're devastated.

Hello there. Yeah, could I have
two fried eggs on toast, please? Room seven.

Was he really angry?

He was more upset than angry, really, Chris.

Why's he sending us eggs, then?

I'll tell you why. Because he's a decent bloke.
He doesn't bear a grudge.

You're a lucky lad, Chris.

D'you want your face washing, Carl?

Yeah, that would be nice, thank you.

(RUNS TAP BRIEFLY)

That's it.

Cheers, Chris. Want me to do yours?

- Yeah.
- Take your gegs off.

- Go 'way! Go 'way, man!
- Ah, come on, Chris.

- It'll freshen you up.
- Away!

(CAWS)

- (TYRES SQUEAL)
- (CRASH)

- (MAN GROANS)
- Now keep calm, it's going to be OK.

- I'm a doctor. I saw it. It wasn't your fault.
- He just stepped out. I didn't see him.

Why does this always happen to me?

Why does it always happen to me, more like!

He's bleeding badly. I need a tourniquet.
Take your tights off.

(CAR STEREO: ''I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IS'')

(SCREAMS)

What is that wonderful smell?
It's like fruits of the forest.

- Er...it's Fanny Fresh.
- And what is that?

Prat spray.

- It's wonderful. It's wonderful. I love you!
- (THUNDER ROLLS)

# I wanna know what love is

# I want you to show me

# I wanna feel what love is

# I know you can show me

# I wanna know what love is ... #

That was a super little meal, wasn't it?

- You 'aving a pudding?
- I've already 'ad one.

- No, you 'aven't.
- I know.

Every picture tells a story,
and this one's a whodunnit.

- Oh, right, so who did do it?
- I dunno.

Have you never heard anything
about me son Paul whilst I was away?

Read about him doing summat brave,
or winning a trophy for running fast?

Last I 'eard, he was working in Riley's
Garden Centre on the Catterick Road,

but that was three years ago.

- Who told you that, like?
- Dan Dan the Shellfish Man.

Talk to him. He moves about and he's a nosy get.

(SIGHING)

Hang on in there. It von't be long.

- Hello. Do you mind if I join you?
- Oh, erm...no, Mr Palmer, that's fine. Please do.

Thanks very much.

So, Mr Palmer, is everything OK?

Yeah, it's a super little hotel, it really is.

And, er...are you still egg-bound?

Oh, no, no, I've unburdened meself,
up in the room, you know.

It was spectacular.
It was like a Jean Michael Jarre concert.

You know, all singing and dancing.

I phoned up the port authority to alert them
that there might be a blip on the radar.

It's the flotilla tomorrow.
Let's hope it doesn't get in the way.

Yeah. There she blows! Man the poop deck!

Shit ahoy!

- (NEEDLE SKIPS ON RECORD )
- I'll, er...just go and fix my record deck.

- Nice fella, Mark, i'nt he?
- Yeah. As men go, yeah.

I like... I like your scarf.

I bought it in a shop, so...

- Is there anywhere good around here?
- Over there by the window's quite popular.

Yeah, I've been there. It's a hell of a view, innit?

I was exhausted after about two minutes.

To be honest with you, Tess,
I, er...prefer the view from here, really.

Oh, look, there's your...friend up at the bar.
I'd better go and serve him.

Oh, right. Hey, maybe
we could have a dance later, eh?

Maybe.

Did you see or hear anything?

C'mon, it's like trying to draw blood
out of a bowl with you guys.

No. Nothin'.

No.

And you? Where did you get
that damage to your chin?

- My hunch is it's a recent occurrence.
- Me and Pat had a fight.

About what, may I incredulously inquire?

- Whose hands...
- Were the heaviest.

Were the heaviest.

OK, I'll buy that for now.

But if any of you remember anything,
give me a call.

Or dial 999 and ask for the American Eagle.

Oh, one more thing.

Might I ask that none of you leave Europe
until this investigation is over?

Come, Webster, we must away.

Pint of lager, pint of cider and a pint of bitter.

And a selection of pickles for two
male adults, please, and make it snappy.

That's a crocodile joke. Ha ha.

- See them coasters there?
- Yeah.

They're multilayered. There's no adhesive.

No adhesive? You're shitting on me.

I wouldn't do that.
I used to work in the paper factory.

Hey. Hush, whisht, whisht. Listen.

One day this bloke working the coaster press
got his finger caught under the piston,

and when he pulled it out, it had gone.

There was no evidence.
It just disappeared in a puff of smoke.

No way. You're feeling my fanny.

And that lonely coaster press operative

lives today to tell the tale.

And that bloke...is not me.

Cheeky get, licking my arse like that.

- I know.
- (LAUGHS RAUCOUSLY)

Pull me finger.

(FARTS)

I...I didn't see that coming!

Uh?

- (FARTS)
- (LAUGHS) You're funny.

#Judy Teen, the queen of the scene,
she's rag doll amore

#Judy Teen grew sick of the scene,
just bragging to fools

# Together riding on a crest, i' was swell
We stole her face

# And oh, how we laughed
She made us happy...

(NEEDLE SKIPS)

This ungodly, feverish display vill stop now!

I know your game. Back to your duties!

-Vot do you call this?
- Er...a disco night.

''Er...a disco night.''

And let me count the number of people
at your disco night.

One, two, three, four, five.

I only need one hand, which leaves me
the other free to thmack your head with!

Come on, mate, give him a break.

- Good idea. I'll break his neck.
- Mr Oates, why are you so down on me today?

Yes, I vill go down on you. Very hard
and very forcibly until you come good.

Hey, you two, tossers, off.

- That's it. Get out!
- You can't throw us out, we're residents.

Vell, the bar is shut,
so you can PISS OFF back to your room.

And as for you, baby bellboy,

I vill deal with you in the morning.

Now, everybody out!

All right, mate.

- (MOUTHS)
- I told you to get out.

Er...Chris, can I have a word?

Erm...your brother's told me
all about this George Clooney business.

- Aaargh!
- No, Chris.

I have to say I'm with your brother over this.
What possessed you?

Pull my finger.

(SQUELCHING)

(THUD )

Come with me.
I've got something to show you.

How did he do that?

How dare you look at me like that?
You whore! Go to the room now!

Piss off, Roy.

Just piss off and leave me alone!

(MUSIC: MORRISSEY'S
''SATAN REJECTED MY SOUL'')

# Satan rejected my soul

# As low as he goes,
he never qui' e goes this low

# He's seen my face around

# He knows heaven
doesn't seem to be my home

# So I must find somewhere else to go

# I must find somewhere else to go

# So take i', please

# Call me in , call me in , call me in

# Come on, come on

# Oh, come on, come on, la, la, la la la la

# Ooh #

Don't leave me, Tess.

Please don't leave me!

- (SQUELCHING)
- Don't leave me, Tess.

Erm...I found that in a skip.

If it'll 'elp to smooth things out
with you and Carl, it's yours.

(SOBS)

It's all right, Chris.

- You little liar!
- (SCREAMS)

Mum! What are you doing? Aagh! My hair!

What are you doing, Mum? Get off me!

You're not collecting cutlery.
You're on the run again!

- No, Mum, honest! You've got it wrong!
- Get in there now!

I got it direct from the police!

Don't leave me, Tess.

Not now! Soon we will be complete.

(WHIMPERS)

Don't leave me, Tess!

# I wanna know what love is

# I want you to show me

# I wanna feel what love is

# I know you can show me

# I wanna know what love is ...

(TONY) You two are dead.