I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
I guess I was attracted to the simplicity of it.
You know the communal living, everyone under one roof...
...the shared mealtimes the constant presence of
the team members in their special clothes.
They had this hierarchy of star symbols.
And the compound I was put in, it had four stars.
And that meant you couldn't get hot food at night?
Yeah. I mean, we could get food at night...
...but only sandwiches.
They would come into your room when you were out.
And you could tell, you know, that they'd been there.
How could you tell?
They'd tidy up.
They'd make your bed and tuck the sheets in really tight,
like abnormally tight.
Like, no human couldn't get into that bed.
If they came in at night,
they would leave a chocolate on the pillow.
Why?
Some kind of warning.
We can come and go as we please.
Today it's a chocolate,
tomorrow it could be a turd or a horse's head.
Although, in fairness, it was always a chocolate.
They also communicate through towels.
You'd leave a towel on the floor or on the side of the bath,
and they'd take it from you and replace it with a different
but identical towel
and leave it on the radiator near the sign saying that they were
trying to "save the planet" via towels.
Which planet?
They didn't say.
It was the keys that broke me.
They would give you a key,
you know for your numbered room, but it was heavy.
Like some kind of anvil.
And then if you wanted to go out, they would say "Leave your key.
"Leave your key with us."
And I didn't want to leave my key, I didn't want to,
but it was so heavy.
It was so heavy, you see?
So, I would leave my key.
And then they started to ask for money. Money?
Suddenly wanted hundreds and hundreds of pounds.
I'm so sorry.
They'd been keeping a record of everything I'd eaten
and then they'd say it cost like five times
what it would cost to buy in a shop.
In the end I just paid what they wanted.
Every penny, it was the only way.
I paid and then I just ran.
I left everything.
And was that your last contact with them?
No. They emailed me, the next day, asking if I wanted my stuff.
Like they were taunting me, it was so horrible.
I told them to just burn it.
I'm a bit worried about that hotel sketch because.
Oh, it's a hotel.
Well, yes.
Sorry, I thought it was a cult.
I think how it works is they talk about it like it was
a cult but it's actually a hotel.
Hence comedy.
But what I'm worried about is that people in
the hospitality sector have had a really rough time actually
and I'm just worried that they're going to see that sketch
and go, "Oh, their laughing at us." It's just very negative.
It is very negative, but my worry isn't that we're laughing at
the hospitality sector.
It's worse, we're laughing at people that get into cults,
you know, nitwits and wallies and clots.
Don't say clots, it's very offensive to stroke survivors.
Of course, and people who died of strokes.
But they don't tend to write in.
Yeah, I mean, like their ghosts, or their families.
I meant their families.
Look we can't be punching down to,
at or on nitwits or wallies or people who work in hotels.
We just can't do that.
Yeah, it would be very harsh and negative to be punching down
to or of people who just happen to be wrong about everything.
ALL: Mm.
OK, so let's write a lovely positive sketch about something that we love.
Lara, what are your passions? What are you passionate about?
Golf. I'm crazy about golf. Crazy golf?
No, regular golf. I just love it. Golf is my happy place.
You know, the green, the holes, the holes.
Want to see a picture of me in my happy place.
WOMAN: Oh, you do look very happy.
OK, great let's just do
a lovely sketch about golf where no-one gets hurt,
not people who love golf, not people who hate golf.
And not people who've never heard of golf.
What kind of moron has never heard of golf?
Previously on Sweary Aussie Drama.
This is my fucking farm.
This fucking farm's my fucking farm now.
This is my fucking farm now.
This is my fucking farm again.
Sorry, who's fucking farm, is it?
I found a fucking will.
Fuck.
It's yours, you nobber.
Shit.
Were you blowing this whole fuckin' farm sky fuckin' high?
Too fuckin' right.
I love the tits of you, you stone-cold cunt.
Want to run a fuckin' farm?
Take a fuckin' seat.
Not so fuckin' fast.
What the fuck? For fuck's sake.
For crying out fuck.
Who the fuck are you?
So, all we need is your DBS check
and you can start with the new term.
Oh, brilliant. And how do we do the DBS check?
Do you need anything from me?
Oh, it's a straightforward process, but the format has changed recently.
We used to just rely on your criminal history,
but that only told us if you'd been caught or not
and let me tell you there are a lot of very clever paedos out there.
So, if you wouldn't mind.
Oh, I go through there?
Yes, Clarence will be conducting the check today.
OK.
Hello?
I'm here for the DBS check?
Scared, are you?
You surprised me.
What if I was a child?
What do you mean "what if I was a child"?
What would you do if I was a child? I don't know.
Incorrect. The answer I was looking for was "not assault you".
That's strike one of three.
Oh, God. Erm...
You have a bag of sweets.
Do you A, eat them,
B, put them away to be eaten at a time of your choosing,
or C, lure a child into your van?
Well, not C obviously.
Interesting.
I thought this was going to be a form or...
A child comes to you for help with a minor injury do you
A, contact their parents,
B, dial 111,
C, flirt?
Is this a joke?
Do you think this is funny?
No. Erm, I would contact their parents
and then dial 111 obviously.
Oh, you think you're soooo clever, don't you?
You think you're sooooo above board sexually.
I am? I've kids of my own.
"Oh, I can't be a nonce, some of my best friends are children."
That's not what I said.
This is a line-up of various children,
who do you think's the fittest?
None of them.
Bearing in mind these are photos of children from
the 1970s who are adults now, so this is fine.
Still none of them. It's multiple choice I'm afraid.
You can have A, fit as in athletic?
I'd have to see them do the bleep test first,
B, none, Or C, Third child on the right.
B, none. Oh, very convenient. Question four.
But if you HAD to pick, if you had to,
would it be A, one, B, two, or C, I can't choose...
I can't choose.
I hadn't finished. C, I can't choose because they're all quite hot.
Well, not that one.
Not which one? Who do you mean?
Apart from that one, obviously, he's a minger.
No, I mean not that one as in not option C,
and I don't think you can call a child a minger.
Oh, so you do have an opinion about which child is hotter.
No, I don't.
You're going to look me in the eye
and tell me that child is not less attractive than
the other children?
That child is me, by the way, when I was a young lad.
And I don't mind saying it, I was a munter.
No, you weren't a munter.
You've got a lovely angelic face and...
OK, you fancy me as a child. NO.
You haven't answered question four.
Because I don't agree with any of them. Correct.
If you had to choose between being
a paedo or doing 9/11 which, would you go for?
I'm leaving.
All right, Gary Glitter.
I'm sorry, that is absolutely...
So, it seems you passed the DBS check with no obvious issue.
Oh.
OK. Great.
So, shall I just see you in September?
But I'm afraid we can't let you proceed because you failed
the 9/11 check, so you're probably a terrorist.
OK, So lovely positive golf sketch.
Exterior, day, golf course, it's a beautiful day.
Golfer one says, "What a lovely game of golf I'm having."
Good, that's a nice naturalistic bit of exposition.
And maybe Golfer two says, "Yes, it's excellent, isn't it?
"I love golf."
And Golfer three says "And not just golf.
"There are so many beautiful things in this world
"that we should be grateful for."
That is lovely.
Why don't we write more sketches like this?
Yes, it's going really well, isn't it?
I'm not worried about it, you know?
Whenever there's a joke, you worry.
Yeah, you do. You worry will they laugh?
Will it upset someone?
Will it get translated into another language where it turns out it's
a slur? You worry.
Yeah, you're right, it's jokes, isn't it?
The problem has been jokes.
I suddenly understand why everyone loves Ted Lasso.
Oh, that does feel a bit negative, Rob.
No, no, no, I don't mean it negatively.
I think they're really on to something.
No jokes, no problem.
Just pleasant interactions between people of good faith.
There's literally nothing to object to.
This is great. Well, let's try something a bit visual.
Golfer one takes a shot. Golfer two says, "Good shot."
Fucking hell, I love this. I could watch this all day.
And then maybe aliens land?
And the golfers get scared for a second.
Oh, is that stressful? No, no, let me finish.
And then the head alien says, "Can we play?"
- Huh. - Oh.
Yeah. And then they just have a lovely time.
Maybe one of the aliens starts wanking?
Sebastian, we are thrilled that you're going to be reading your novel here.
Well, thank you for having me.
Of course, we have a few minutes before the event,
and I did have a bit of a cheeky request actually.
Oh, cheeky.
Ha-ha. So, you know we sponsor a young writer's competition.
Of course, wonderful.
Yeah, and we actually have the short story finalists
and they're just over there in that corner
and I know it's a bit last minute,
but it would mean the world to them if you would just go
and maybe say hi and maybe have a quick selfie with them.
That would be no problem whatsoever.
I'd be delighted.
WHISPERS INDISTINCTLY
Yeah, there's absolutely no fucking way he's doing that.
Oh, OK, yes, I guess it was a bit of a cheeky...
Shall I go over now? I mean, it's no trouble. I'm here.
Yes, if you would that would be so.
Look, he's got a fucking book to promote.
He's not here to make fucking friends with some snot-nosed kids.
Maybe they could come here,
and I could sign a book for each of them.
I mean, the books are here. Would that make sense?
That is so generous. That would be...
I'll just go, and I'll fetch them quickly.
Where the fuck are you going? It's not happening.
How many times do I have to tell you. It's event, signing, car.
I tell you what, I don't have any lunch plans maybe,
if they're free, I could take them to that lovely trattoria
round the corner and maybe they could pick my so-called brains
about the writing process. I mean, I doubt they've got much
o learn from me, they're clearly so talented.
But I'd be happy to lend them
the benefit of my experience, such as it is.
Well, that would be lovely.
He's fucking sick of this.
He wants to go. The event's off. You've blown it.
I'm really looking forward to the event.
Car now. He's going. Sebastian thinks you're a dick.
It's been absolutely lovely.
This has been fucking unacceptable.
So, his wife was dying, he knew that,
everyone knew that, so he goes over to Calais,
to one of those warehouses to get a deal on cheap booze
for the funeral, you know the wake.
Was this pre Brexit?
Pre Brexit. So financially, it makes sense.
Yeah, good idea.
But is it though?
Financially speaking it's a no-brainer,
but my question is, is it... on?
On?
Like, OK, morally-speaking?
Cheap booze for a do, great, but when the do is the funeral of
a loved-one who is still alive, does that taste a bit funny?
I'd say anything less than five euros for a box
is always going to taste funny, no matter where you get it.
No, I mean, is it all right?
My question is did he tell her?
Yeah, good question.
Did he say to her, "Tell you what, love,
"I'm very sorry you're dying but we will have
"to offer some hospitality when that happens,
"so I'm getting ahead on that,
"and the great news is that I've got an absolute bargain on
"a perfectly quaffable Cote De Rhone?"
Yes, he did.
Well, in that case that's fine. Well, in that case that's outrageous.
You see, this is the thing it divides opinion.
That's why it's a good one.
I brought this up at Christmas lunch
and people really went quiet, just thinking about it.
Is that what you want, Christmas Day?
Oh, yeah. No point dragging it out.
If there's a pause in the conversation,
you can get the dishes in the kitchen,
or you can make a little noise in the back of your throat
so that Susan gets the dishes in the kitchen.
Oh, too right, you've got to push through it.
You've got to screw your paper hat up
and start binning all the shit from crackers.
Big light on, tell the kids to clear all this mess up.
Yeah, that's right - cloth off, table back to normal size
and then you can make a start on the tree. Yeah, absolutely.
If possible, I like to get the tree down by the end of Moana.
They complain, of course, but I just say to them look it's a musical,
you can easily hear the songs over the hoover.
Yep, that's right, in-laws in a cab.
Slam. See you at Easter. House back to normal.
And then it's done, it's over, you've done it.
Normal.
You don't have to do it any more because you've done it.
It's finished.
Apart from the all-day Baileys.
I don't really like Baileys.
I don't really mean Baileys, I mean lager.
But around Christmas we call it Baileys.
Stephen. It's finally happening. She's asked for a word.
Right. Yes. Did she say anything else?
That she had something important to tell us.
OK. I'm ready.
I-I'm getting ready.
Just remember we've got one chance to do this right.
Oh. Hello, love.
Do you want to sit down?
Your mum says you've got something on your mind.
It's OK, sweetie. Take your time.
I'm letting her take her time. All the time you need.
For a while now I've wanted to tell you guys something.
But something stopped me.
Anyway, I just can't carry on not saying.
I want you to know all of me.
We want to know you too, love, and we're ready
to accept whatever-whatever it is
that you want to tell us about your... Sexuality.
Right.
It's all right, love. You can say it.
OK. Mum, Dad, I'm...
...I'm a right slag.
I just want to say thank you,
so much for trusting us enough to share that with us.
Uh-huh.
Oh, God that feels good to say aloud. I feel so much lighter.
Honestly, I think I've always known, since you were a little girl.
That I was a right slag?
That you were a right slag.
And you're not upset?
No. Of course not.
And your father's not upset either.
Are you, love?
No, no, of course not.
I accept and love you whatever,
whether or not you are a right slut.
Stephen.
Dad. I knew you'd be like this.
What? What have I said?
She's not a slut.
I'm a slaaaag. OK? A right slag.
I'm sorry. I-I just want to make sure I've understood.
Help me to understand.
What exactly does being a "right slag" mean to you?
Just that I really like it up me. Right up.
I don't know how else to say it.
I'm a slag bag, a ho bag. I'm over easy.
I'm happy with all that terminology.
Some people would call me the village bike.
And you'd be OK with that?
That's just who I am.
It's who she is, Stephen.
But you're not a slut?
Um... No, Dad. A slut gets stuff in return for sex.
Money, a flat maybe? I give it away for free.
I put it about. A lot. With anyone. Anyone at all.
I'm a slag. I gobble for Britain.
And I'd like to know that you, my parents, support me as I do that.
Is that so weird?
I suppose not. No, love. In fact, I tell you what,
on your graduation day, next summer, me and your mum will be there
in the audience watching you accept your certificate,
your special scroll, and we'll be as proud as punch.
And, if a stranger sitting next to me says "Is that your daughter?
"She looks like a right slag. Is she?"
I won't get angry,
I won't hit him. I'll say "You're absolutely right.
"She really is a filthy whore."
Stephen. What?
I don't know. Shopping took longer than expected,
I'm just going to have to try and beat the traffic, I'm sorry.
Can I help you?
WE ARE THE GOOMB.
Who said that?
YOU MUST HELP US, PAT MILLS.
How did you know my...?
Is this telepathy?
OUR PEOPLE ARE DYING. PLEASE HELP US.
How can I help you?
WE ARE THE GOOMB.
WE HAVE POOLED ALL OUR RESOURCES
INTO THE MAKING OF A TEEN COMEDY CALLED HIGH SCHOOL FAUX PAS.
Right. WE'VE MOCKED UP A TRAILER HERE ON THE LAPTOP.
WE WOULD LOVE IT IF YOU COULD GIVE US SOME FEEDBACK.
OK. I'm just in a bit of a hurry so...
OUR PEOPLE ARE DYING.
I'll take a look.
IT'S BETTER IF YOU USE THE HEADPHONES.
This is fine.
Oh, I'm not wearing any underwear
and I have to get to my first day in High School.
Where's that bus? I'll never get there.
Hey, kid, I'm JJ and I'm going to High School.
Need a lift?
Hey, great.
You'll have to share though.
I'm taking my friend, Benny, along to lose his virginity.
Oh! Benny's a werewolf?
BENNY HOWLS
HIGH SCHOOL FAUX PAS.
The new comedy for anyone who's ever been to High School.
Certificate to be confirmed.
WE DO NOT KNOW WHAT HIGH SCHOOL IS.
I see.
I'm probably not the target audience for this.
DID YOU LIKE IT?
DID YOU LIKE OUR MALE LEAD MATT RAINFORD?
I would have liked to see more of him maybe.
A LOT OF PEOPLE SAID THEY LIKED HIM.
WHAT DID YOU LIKE LEAST?
Um... I'm.
I wasn't too sure about the sound levels.
YOU DIDN'T USE THE HEADPHONES.
Even so. Is that the finished...?
WE HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR A MUSICAL ABOUT A POLICEMAN...
Oh.
...CALLED POLICEMAN FAUX PAS.
MATT RAINFORD'S ON BOARD.
OK, well, the title. Maybe.
What? OUR DEADLY FOE.
No.
WE SHALL EMAIL YOU A LINK TO OUR SITE.
No... No. I'll google it.
YOU SHOULD GO NOW, PAT MILLS.
We are sorry of you have not beaten the traffic.
FIRST ACTOR: Benny's a werewolf? SECOND ACTOR: I'm JJ. Need a lift?
Need a lift? Need a lift?
Benny's a werewolf?
Subtitles by Red Bee Media