Gladiatress (2004)

So what's this place call itself?
It is called Pritain, Generalissimo.
And the people? Are they rough?
Rough? No.
No. The men, they shave all over the body.
They gotta just moustaches.
(Small laugh)
- 20 mile you say?
- Si.
And the women...
Caesar, the women...they fight like the mens.
The ladies, they like-a to fight?
Si.
Get the ships. This I got to see.
Launch the ships! We go to fight.
Hey! Hey!
(Rumble of thunder)
WOMAN: But Caesar did not reckon
on fighting the Dubonni -
a tribe famed worldwide for their Celtic Kick
and their digging.
And he didn't reckon on fighting my sisters.
The eldest, Princess Dwyfuc, noble and brave...
(Blows horn)
..and babyless.
The middle child, Smirgut the Fierce...
whom we never speak of...
for various reasons.
And me, Worthaboutapig.
Though, admittedly,
I was probably less of a threat.
But I was immensely popular in the village...
- Hi, guys. And how are we today?
- Go away.
..with the animals.
Good, good.
- Morning.
- Ah!
(Mutters and hisses)
(Hisses)
Morning.
Nice top.
Ahh!
(Punching and ripping)
Sorry.
I was a career beeherd. Did I tell you that?
I loved my job.
I was working on hypnotising the bees
with a special language that I had invented...
Banalla, Orlanna, Assilda.
Gwenaaaacch!
..and then borrow their honey.
They do everything I say.
Ow! Ow! Ow!
Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Ow! Ow! Ow!
Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Ow! Ow! Not up there!
Ow! Ooh! Ooh!
I remember that day
was the day of the husband trials
and all the men were gorgeous.
I am Drith of the Silures.
Son of Froth, of the golden knees.
My arm is smooth.
From my mighty organ, a great white river flows,
both in the morning and at night.
Always my big moustache tastes of pork.
- Ooh. Drith's back.
- Thank you.
- Is this the last batch?
- Mm.
Seen anyone you fancy?
Name?
Wthol of the Votadini.
Hyahhh!
Hyyah!
- It seems a better standard than last year.
- Please.
(Yelps and breaks wind repeatedly)
Next!
Id have done him. For the prestige.
Gods, imagine it. Id be Mrs Hairy Geordie
Woman. Id be a somebody.
- Worthaboutapig?
- Yes, sorry.
- My problems first.
- Of course.
This is Kax of the Velgai, ma'am.
WORTHABOUTAPIG: Nice shoes.
- Oh, pity.
WORTHABOUTAPIG:
Excuse me, what's wrong with him?
He doesn't speak.
OK, so what actually is it
about men that you don't like?
Look at them.
The flower of British manhood!
And the whole smooth thing, Pig, it's all wrong.
All the hair is in the wrong place.
You can't have sex with a man like that.
It's like...kissing a seal.
Im never going to live that down, am I? Twice.
Twice!
And the first time was a dare.
Princess!
Princess Dwyfuc!
Come quick! There's a foreigner come,
with huge, great big, hairy, wandering hands!
Make way for Princess Dwyfuc!
Morning. Hello, all. Morning, all.
Hello, Mrs Thingy-basket-woman.
How is the disease?
Good. Hello, you poorly little chap.
How's the croup?
Make way, princess coming through.
Lovely to see you all. Lovely.
Oh, look. A Gaul!
Isn't he Gaully, Dwyfuc?
- Gaully and...unusual.
- Sister?
- Yes?
- Don't talk to me in front of the people.
Oh, sorry. Forgot.
Ugh!
WORTHABOUTAPIG: Ye gods!
(Squelching)
(Squelch)
It's detachable.
Not for me.
He's all yours.
What? Mine?
Mine? What, really?
WOMEN: The Queen! The Queen!
ALL: All hail, our Queen!
Where am I? What's going on?
We're outside now, ma'am.
You stand before great Queen
Tuathfhlaifthfth of the Dubonni.
- Eldest daughter?
- Yes, almighty Queen?
Stop licking my arse.
Our land stretches from farthest west
to distant east.
From over there to over there.
- Mighty are we and none do we fear.
MAN: He can't understand, he's a Gaul.
Well, fetch the one
who knows the language of the Gauls.
Yes.
Bonjour!
(Impressed muttering from crowd)
Monsieur.
Sorry. A little slower.
The novels.
He comes from a land of giant cakes.
I know what he's saying.
He says the Romans have landed.
Shh, Pig! I don't think he did.
Romans? Here?
Where?
A l'est. In Kent. Les Kents.
Did you say...the Kents?
Oui.
- The Romans are attacking the Kents!
- (Rumble of thunder)
(All cheer)
We hate the Kents.
Look after him, sister.
Ive got a husband to find.
Knickers...stinky stuff...
Welcome to my humble home.
Isn't it hot?
Ill light a fire. No.
Um...
That's...my bed.
That's where I sleep.
And this is how I sleep.
Me, Worthaboutapig.
You?
Jean...
Marcosivellaunivironmandiboule.
What a big name.
Let me look at your arm.
Ill slap some honey on that.
Before bed.
Oh, why do I find it so easy to talk to you?
Huh?
It must be my lucky night.
Im not meant to be lucky.
I...was born...
..on the shortest day, you see.
That's why Im an outcast.
An outsider.
Like you.
Mm.
- Ow!
- Oh, sorry.
You, me, jiggy jiggy jiggy?
Yes.
Um... Ill be that one.
Do you like what you see?
Be gentle with me. But use your own judgment.
- (Horn)
- Um, ignore that.
- Qu'est-ce qui se passe?
- It's nothing. It's just the alarm.
OK...
JEAN: Wh... Where are your tits?
(Long deep blast)
- Where are they?
- Toward the east!
To the hill fort!
We don't have a hill fort.
Don't go to the hill fort!
Shhh! Shhh!
Can you ask them to keep it down?
It's a big day for me.
- Pig, the Romans are here.
- Lovely.
Help me!
- Did you?
- Um... We started to.
Then he said I had boring breasts
and nodded off. I think he had a bad crossing.
Pig...
the Romans are here.
QUEEN: Give them to me!
You're wrong. The war is over there.
- No, ma'am...
- Give me the reigns.
- But, Great Queen...
- I command you. To the sea! To the sea!
- No, ma'am, it's...
- I'm doing the driving. I know the way.
No, no, no, no! No, people!
To the east! To the east!
To the east!
Follow me.
To the east!
To the east! To the east!
And so the Dubonni charged west
towards the bogs
while Dwyfuc and a small band
of ex-boyfriends ran east
to face the mighty Romans alone.
(Bleating)
Yarrgggh!
Yaarrggggh! Yaaargggh!
Yaaargggh!
Rarrgggh!
Yaaaaaah!
(Purrs like a lion)
(Jaw clicks)
(Purrs)
(Clunk)
(General chuckles) It's a good shot.
- General.
- Si?
A message from Caesar.
From a place is called Kent.
He says they cannot find a safe harbour
for the ships
and we must return at once to the fleet.
Pity.
It's a nice country.
Si.
We take-a the fighting lady.
Put her in the wagon. Come on.
She could be useful later.
(Crowd wailing)
(Mournful wailing continues)
Oh, shut up, will you!
She's not dead.
My daughter has been taken by the Romanians.
Romans, my Queen.
We must ask the gods what we must do.
Fetch the one who talks with the gods.
(Chanting)
One Who Talks With The Gods,
tell us of Dwyfuc my daughter,
future queen of the Dubonni-i-i.
Show us what cannot be seen.
- (Squelch)
- Oh, dear.
Well? What do you see?
I see...
blood, guts and gore.
And Dwyfuc?
They have taken her and left...
..her shield.
We knew this!
Look at it!
Tell us something new!
They are taking her back...
across the water.
To their own land.
Where does it say that?
Just there.
She must be rescued.
Dwyfuc must be rescued.
If she is not brought home
when I pass to the Other World,
it'll be the idiot one who shall be queen.
(Wailing)
Who is... Yes, all right.
Who will undertake this almost certainly
pointless and fatal mission to Romania?
Rome, great Queen.
Who shall rescue Dwyfuc, my daughter,
future queen of the Dubonni?
ALL: I will! I will! I will!
I will!
WORTHABOUTAPIG: I will rescue her.
- I will rescue Dwyfuc! I...
- (Silence falls)
The unlucky one has been the loudest.
Worthaboutapig shall go to Bucharest.
(Cheering and clapping)
Worthaboutapig shall rescue Dwyfuc!
(People chant) Pig! Pig! Pig! Pig! Pig!
Look, actually...I thought about this overnight
and I don't know how practical this really is.
The gods will protect her.
ALL: Yes!
- Sure... Sure...
But I just feel I'm...not really the hero type.
And I suppose it's partly, finally...
finding a boyfriend makes me reluctant to go
at this particular juncture.
I mean, will he wait?
Goodbye! Goodbye! Have a nice trip.
Left hand up the hill.
Right, everyone, back to work.
(Mutters)
My love!
I... I go!
But I shall return with my sister.
(Sniffs) Pguh!
And more arresting breasts.
I'm going to somehow get bigger breasts
and it's going to be fine.
But I don't...
(Sobs)
I don't even know where Rome is. Shit.
(Eerie hiss)
Gods, I need your help.
- You're not kidding.
- (Screams)
Are you from the Other World?
I'm Andrasta. Goddess of victory.
Yes!
- Your mission...
- Ahh!
..to save your sister is hopeless.
But you have another sister.
Smirgut the Fierce.
We do not speak of her.
You do not speak of her because there is
bad blood between her and Dwyfuc.
Smirgut had this bucket of blood
to use for a pudding but it went off
and then Dwyfuc accidentally
tipped it over her head.
Smirgut was absolutely livid.
It is only by Smirgut that your fate can be turned.
And even then,
you must persuade her to help you.
But they hate each other.
And she lives in the north,
with the Briganti
and they're really, really rough.
And they talk like tha
and they wear their mongs long at the back,
like a...a mullet.
And um...they've got three nipples.
# Ive got a little Gaul,
Jean Marcosivellaunivironmandiboule
Yaarrgggggh!
Oh!
Im looking for someone called Smirgut.
- (Gasps)
- No, Im her sister.
(Screams)
I think we must be close.
(Wolf howls in distance)
(Modern dance music)
(Raucous shouts)
(Cheering)
(Cheering)
Don't ever touch my pint, you ranky git!
(Growls like a lion)
Pig?
Is it really you?
(Bones crunch)
- You've really picked up the accent.
- Fuck off!
- You haven't changed.
- I know.
How's the drinking? Any...incidents?
None. Clean.
Right off it. Don't touch it. Not even tempted.
- I nearly lost my gooseberry.
- You didn't?
- Yeah.
- Who?
- Oh, not old Squinty Greenteeth the pig man?
- No! Gods, no!
(Laughs) No. No, he chucked me.
With um, a Gaul.
Yeah. I got lucky for once.
How's Mummy?
Fine.
Yeah.
And that stuck-up...bitch of a sister?
Dead, I hope?
No. She's...fine.
Pity.
I would have written but er...no alphabet,
or paper.
What's the matter?
Ive said the thing which is not true.
- What, lied?
- Yes.
- Some Romans came, you see...
- (Growls)
and um...that's why Im here.
Because they...they took away...
..they took...they took away...
Mummy!
Yes.
(Growls)
We'll head for the coast. There's a druid there
who does boats and prophesies.
Be back later, love. Ta-ta, children.
CHILDREN: Bye, Mum!
Don't eat the pets.
- Blow that when we get to a corner.
- (Blows horn)
- That's not a corner!
- Sorry, it's your accent.
Shut it!
WORTHABOUTAPIG:
# Ive got a little Gau-u-u-ul
(Squelching)
- It's nice. We can have a girlie chat.
- Shut it, you demented pixie.
WORTHABOUTAPIG: Nice parking.
OK, Gareth, you stay. Stay and guard the...
- (Honks)
- Stay.
- Yeah. Good.
- Im gonna eat that goose.
(Honks)
So would you say you're more hard
since you went up north?
Yeah, 'kin hard as nails, me.
Brilliant. Those Romans better watch out for you.
Rome.
I didn't realise it was gonna be that big.
You could beat that, couldn't you?
No, no. We mustn't alert them.
Right.
We're going to have to be very, very clever.
A disguise?
Yeah.
Something...continental. Aaaah!
(Poor attempt at French accent)
Just airing, my slave. Hm?
SMIRGUT: If you do that again,
Im gonna maim you.
- Argh!
- Sorry!
What are they building?
Amphitheatre.
Ooh. I wonder what's playing.
Turks.
- Must be the German quarter.
- What's German?
Look out!
(Tearing)
SMIRGUT: Bollocks!
Swedes.
- Change money? Are you sure?
- No, thanks. Got a big bag full.
- Hotel? Hotel?
- Cheap hotel. Cheap hotel.
(Whispers) It's not fair.
Here we are, all cosy,
and poor Dwyfuc's being...poked with Romans.
We're coming to get you, Dwyfuc.
Don't despair.
Coming to get you.
Oh, Lofacta.
All this luxury.
Is it right?
Sometimes I think to myself,
why should I be the lucky one?
And then a little voice says...Fuck it.
What's for dinner? I could eat a horse.
- Horse. With a sauce.
- Excellent.
Who's coming? Any celebs?
Prefect Crassus.
Oh... What a tit.
Ah. You met him.
And General Rhinus
with the ex-gladiator Ruselius Crocus.
- Oooh!
- His er...friend.
- Ohh...
- Oh, but, Dwyfuc,
now the legions are back from Germany,
we'll find you an husband, I promise.
Nobody wants a British princess.
Just because Im a bit...rough round the edges.
It takes time to adapt to foreign ways, my dear.
I mean, even for us Gaullish women,
the invasion was a terrible shock.
- It took some of us days.
- Ow!
Morning.
Mm. These are actually rather good, you know.
I don't suppose you also remember the last thing
you said before we went to sleep, do you?
Nighty-night?
Oh, no... Yeah.
No. Yeah, yeah. I said how this morning
we'd get up and rescue Dwy... (Chokes)
Excuse me, it's stuck.
I was saying how this morning
we'd go and, er, rescue Mummy.
(Growls)
- No, you didn't.
- I did.
- Didn't I?
- You said, Dwyfuc.
Really?
(Growls)
Oh.
Could you hold that a moment?
Sorry.
Shift!
- Here, love. You being chased?
- Yeah.
In here. It's all right, we're British.
You see, the smell of the soap is totally covered
by the cannabis so no soap tax.
Genius, eh?
She er...needs a place to hide.
Does she?
Hi. Hi.
Im Worthaboutapig.
What an absolute treasure trove.
- Worth less than a pig?
- No. Worthaboutapig.
Im sorry to be a pickypoo,
it's just it is about a pig.
It's never ever less. Im Worthaboutapig.
Yeah, well...we'll be the judge of that.
Have a pull on that, look. It's a local custom.
Thanks.
When in Rome.
No!
- No.
- Oh.
(High-pitched) Ahhh-ahhh. Ahh.
Hey, I feel fantastic!
Ive never felt so good in my whole life!
Im not afraid of Smirgut.
(High-pitched giggle)
- Where is she?
- Who?
(Punch)
Oof! Cor!
- She bleedin' hit me!
- Who hit you?
Some bird out there.
Im not going out there. You sort her out.
Did you hit him? What did you hit him for?
Tough bird, are you, yeah? Come on, then.
Kents!
Kents, is it? Come on, then. We are Kents.
That was really expensive!
(High-pitched) I lied. So you'd come with me.
You'll have to kill me first!
(High-pitched)
Im a scheming miserable little shit.
(Giggles)
Doh!
MAN: Go on, kill him, love!
Go on, kill, kill.
Kill him! Kill him!
Mother! (Echoes)
(Laughs)
And these Pritish women,
they even have-a the hair under the arms.
Ooh! Oh, General, you rascal!
Lady soldiers give me an 'ard on.
You Pritish, you gave us quite a scare.
Well, we do love a bit of a hack.
When we invade again,
it will be a different story.
Of course, if it wasn't for the storms
that broke up-a the ships,
Pritain would already be ours.
(Splash)
Let's eat.
So, tell us more, principressa of Pritain.
(Chews noisily)
Mm... Mm...
Sorry, sorry.
(Slurping)
Ahh, lovely.
B. Not P. B, B, B for Britain!
- How incriadeable!
- (She belches)
One could never tell you were once...barbarian.
But tell me, did you never fear,
when you were first taken
by us beastly Romans,
that you would never again know
the status of a princess?
(Muffled by food) Oh, in my island,
we have a saying, you know?
Class will out.
(Farts)
(She giggles coquettishly)
(Farts)
(Sprays)
(Explosive fart)
(Squeaky fart)
(Tight, ripping fart)
(Huge fart)
(Flock of birds takes of)
Hey!
You know, we have a saying, too, Principessa.
If the cat will not purr,
then we torture it until it does...
or dies in agony.
Well, we Brits clearly have much to learn
in the...proverb department.
Si, and we Romans in...
..other departmentitties.
We probably have more departments
we need much to have to learn...
..of.
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
Ow!
(Manly laughter)
(Room falls silent)
No women 'ere.
Oh.
Id better go, then.
Just one thing.
What?
Anything. Large one, no straw.
(Laughs)
(All laugh)
Two pints of goats' milk, slightly on the turn,
and er...
..a Pernod for the lady.
Picts?
Aye.
Southern scum?
May your forests be levelled,
your highlands cleared of people,
all your food fried in yesterday's fat
and your country languish eternally
under a southern yoke.
May your empire decay,
your country become a joke to all nations,
riven with class division
and forever ruled by ponces.
- Cheers.
- Cheers, yeah.
- Holiday or business?
- We're ambassadors, hen.
Here to make a treaty against you lot.
Hence the effort. Will you join us?
No. I mustn't.
When I drink, I can become violent.
MAN: Don't we all?
- And rude.
- I don't want to talk about it.
- What's the matter, hen?
Im a Celtic warrior.
First class. A trained killer.
My sister's been captured.
- And I...
- Don't tell me.
I know what it is. You've had the wee ones
and you thought you'd just step back
into the workplace again.
- Yes. Yes.
- But it's not so easy, is it?
I can do the maiming.
- But it's the killing, in't it?
- Mm.
You keep seeing their mothers, am I right?
It was the same for her after we had wee Tiffany.
You've just gotta get back out there, girl.
Believe in yourself.
Here. There's only one way to handle this.
You've gotta just drink your way through it.
(Flies buzz)
Ooh, that horse, it's gone right through me.
It's the best part of the evening, I always think.
- Another dainty?
- Ooh, thank you.
I wonder what the men talk about
when we're not there.
Oh... Nothing, Im sure,
to worry our sweet pretty little heads about.
We must discover a safe harbour for our ships.
Why don't we just torture the heathen sow, huh?
Oh, let me. Please.
- Please, please.
- No, Crassus.
The Pritish can be stubborn and very stupid.
No, my way is the best. Slave.
Quickly. Run to the legion,
bring me the soldier with the nicest arse.
(Laughs)
You are incorrigible!
Oh, dear.
Personally, I never listen to the rumours.
Er... And anyway, I said,
Well, that's his business.
Lofacta tells me this Dwyfuc requires a man.
We shall find her one.
Oh, and, Crassus...I am not that way.
You understand?
- No. No!
- ldiot.
Of course not. Because that would be Greek.
And we are...Romans.
Enough!
Gladiator.
- Next.
- Next!
Pritish.
Female.
(Laughs) Excellent.
Perhaps now we see the famous Celtic Kick.
Oh, God!
This is so provincial.
- Crassus!
- General Rhinus.
How goeth the preparations for the games?
Most perfectly, General.
Some of the local animals
are not as...wild as we would like.
And the gladiators?
Oh, prima qualita!
So, who's top of the bill?
You got Schlaffwaffe the Goth?
Unfortunately, his agent is being a little difficult
but we have some of our best lawyers
on the case.
Egor, look at me! Ahhhh!
OK... I go into town.
I need different feathers for my helmet.
Waaah!
Want anything?
- No.
- Waaah!
Come on, boys.
- Ah!
- (Wood thuds)
We could put her up against the legless Kurd.
(Crassus groans)
Make her a domestic.
They said I did really, really well
considering it was my first time,
and that if I wanted, I could be a slave.
I was delighted.
(Sighs) Oh, the ennui!
At home, Id be in the open -
hunting, riding,
perhaps a little butchering in the afternoon -
but here...
..what's there to do?
(Sighs) If this ennui continues,
I may have to retire early
and have a little...wankette.
Hm...
(Long note)
Lady Lofacta.
Dwyfuc, let me introduce you.
This is Centurion Firmus Tarsovorlovus.
Ah, the Pritish princess.
Won't you join us?
(Purrs like a lion)
(Jaw clicks)
I mentioned to General Rhinus
how nervous I had become
of shopping outside the palace gates.
I did not expect him to send someone so soon.
Unfortunately, I have no time.
A little man comes today to do my lice.
I don't have any lice.
Lice are a sign of good living.
They live only in the cleanest hair.
I had a vole...
My lice are always very big and healthy.
..that wintered down there
and raised a small family.
My lice sometimes wave at me.
My vole used to wish me good night.
(Squeaky voice) Good night, Princess Dwyfuc.
Go to sleep.
Oh... Why don't you go shopping with Firmus?
Oh, that...that would be hairy.
Nice 'orn.
- Slave!
- (Hums)
- Slave!
- (Hums)
- Slave!
- Oh, sorry. Keep forgetting.
- There's a job for you. Kitchen.
- Oh, brill.
(They laugh)
Thanks.
Bloody Celts.
A date to remember.
(Stone zings and ricochets repeatedly)
Oh, Firmus.
(Stone zings)
(Crunching)
Why do I feel so happy?
Because ah...
..you know tonight you get some.
Yes.
Yes, probably.
And...perhaps, too,
you are happy...because you are hot.
Like a candle.
And you know that after dinner,
I will pleasure you in a thousand ways...
..and leave your body like a pool of melted wax.
Oh, Firmus...
..I do believe you're flirting.
Let's go in. (Purrs)
Do you need a lawyer?
No? Good. Im not a lawyer, Im a legal exec.
That's why Im out here, not in there.
But I...I know the law.
No win, no fee?
Permit.
Im with her.
Get off! Get off!
She's...my client!
Urgh!
And she's back.
(Fighting outside)
Mmmm.
Noisy tonight.
(Bones click)
(Purrs)
So...it's true what they say about Roman men.
Yes, we are the world's fastest undressers.
(Toga swishes)
Mmm.
(Splash)
Head between your knees.
DWYFUC: Oh... Oh, yes! Yes!
Oh! Oh, my God!
Yes!
Actually, just a touch less left hand.
Ooohhh, my God!
Hey, that's not as bad as it looks, you know.
This part here...remind me of a harbour.
The way it is shaped.
You er... You have such-a things in Pritain?
Yes, we do.
And where would such harbours be?
A deep one, where, for instance...
a sailor might come in very, very close,
unload his little boat.
Ye... Yeah, keep talking like that.
With the actions. Yeah.
- There's... There's one in...
- Yes?
- There's one in...
- Yes, there's one in...
- Yes!
- Yes! Yes!
Yes! Yes!
In Deal! In Deal!
- There's one in Deal!
- And where is Deal?
It's just between Sandwich and Rams...
- (Bubbling)
- ..gate
Right, my turn. Roll over.
Pig?
Pig?
Waaaaaah!
(Crash)
I think we could claim for this.
(Marching footsteps)
Cold? I am, too.
Tired? I am, too.
- Wholewheat? Good choice.
- (Screams of agony)
It's the slave!
Ah!
Pig!
Ah...
Yes?
Please don't hit me.
Oh...OK.
Was that you upstairs?
You left quite a mess, you know,
on the mosaicry.
I wonder if you might get me out of this?
I can't. It's off my remit.
Im strictly cleaning and errands.
I like being a slave.
Got parameters and a sense of belonging.
And Ive had something called a bath.
This is the invidious nature of the slave system.
The individual feels gratitude
towards the oppressor
for removing the inherent conflicts
of the liberated self.
This could take about 2,000 years
to work through.
Try a slap.
Im cured.
- (Bawls)
- What's the matter now?
I mean, what's the point of it all, you know?
And what are we all ultimately
doing here anyway?
Er... We're here to save Dwyfuc.
- Who is?
- (Sighs) We are.
Both of us?
Yes.
Yes, and it was the most fortunate thing, Caesar.
We have just this moment
secured the intelligence
Your Excellency has been desiring.
Ah.
An harbour at last.
You have done well, Rhinus.
We invade Pritain tomorrow.
Let's rescue the cow and get home.
So it is true what they say about Pritish women.
Gravy on everything.
Oh, in my country, we have a saying, you know.
Oh, what is that?
More gravy?
Ah... Such a mysterious people.
I have never before made-a love like that.
Stopping only on-a the hour, every hour,
for meals.
Mwah!
No! Basta! I cannot bear it!
By the gods, how could I?
And to the only woman
who in the act of love
has made-a the tears run down my cheeks.
It's all the hair. There's gonna be chafing.
No, no, no. You do not understand.
Tomorrow, I rejoin my legion,
we invade your country.
I only make love to you so you reveal
a harbour for our ships.
That is why all of the moves,
all of the...business downstairs.
My, at times, almost unnatural
withholding of personal release.
Mm. That's a relief.
I thought you had a blockage.
Reveal a harbour?
So you mean it was all a...
Even when you did that...trick with your...
(Bell rings)
Mm.
You faked my orgasm!
Ah...
Well...I only wanted you for your seed.
Now, Ive got it so...ha!
A... No, no, but I...
Ah... I... I never...
(Pops)
Get out.
Get out!
(Dwyfuc sobs)
Scusa, ladies.
(Sobbing)
- Pig?
- Dwyfuc.
Pig!
I don't believe it. Pig!
Look who Ive brought.
Look, it's Smirgut.
I said Ill rescue her. Don't have to talk to her.
Beg your pardon?
It's your accent, I can't quite...
- (Growls)
- Look, will you stop it?
- Oooh!
- Dwyfuc,
someone's told the Romans
where they can land their boats.
What? What complete idiot did such a thing?
What a stupid, stupid, silly, silly kind of stupid...
kind of, sort of slipped out, did it,
kind of silly, stupid thing?
- (Smirgut sighs)
- Oh, Dwyfuc.
Im afraid Ive been rather a silly Sue.
We've got to get back and warn the tribe.
- Yes, we've got to get back and warn the tribe.
- Yeah, we've gotta get back and... No.
No, you go. No, Im not going. I don't want to.
Ah... Im very important here.
They've named a cake after me.
And a washing-up utensil.
Ive got a mural. I need to be here. I need to...
Oh, my gods.
She's fallen in love.
No, I haven't.
- How...
- (Door opens)
- ..ridiculous.
- (Door closes)
Lofacta! My friend!
This is Lofacta, my best friend.
These are my sisters. Pig, the runt.
How do you do?
- Nice to meet you.
- And Smirgut.
I never know how many.
- The Fierce.
- (Growls)
You've got great breasts.
Gaullish women in general have, I mean.
I haven't.
Oh! I was telling them about my mural.
Oh. You have not seen?
No.
Come, come, come.
- That's me, being captured.
- It's so real.
And there's me entertaining the rich and famous.
There's me having coitus.
But even you, Dwyfuc,
have not see the final one.
Yes. Now you have betrayed your country
and the Romans have what they want,
they are going to execute you.
But I thought you liked me.
Liked you?
(Mimics)
Oh, I can eat anything, me, I don't get fat.
I hope you die slowly, you bitch.
- Now, piss off.
- I want to go home.
Well, come on.
SMIRGUT: Eugh! What is that smell?
(Flies buzz)
- (Squelch)
- Oh...
Ha ha!
(Squelch)
Someone's coming. Get down.
(Marching footsteps)
Next!
(Folk music)
(Whispers) Hey, I think I see a way
of just walking out of here.
- Rhinus?
- Mm?
Have you been-a shaving your legs?
Abasolutelely not, sir.
(Music ends)
- Why do they do it?
- Nobody knows.
- No-one speaks Scythian.
- Hm.
- Who is next?
- Pictish ambassadors.
Ah. At last, some real business.
Smirgut's plan was dazzling in its simplicity.
Perhaps too dazzling.
(Shuffling)
(Poor Scots accent) Ooh, my piles!
Mm. I suffer the same.
DWYFUC: Aye, it's the northern damp,
you know. It's the terrible, terrible damp.
Anyone for a treaty?
You are the Pictish ambassadors?
Oh, absolutely.
So...you want a treaty...against the Pritish?
Och, Ill say. We abhor them!
Psst!
Em... Excuse me for a minute, will ye?
(Pig whispers) You dickhead!
What?
It's a trick question. Picts are British.
What are you saying exactly?
Picts regard themselves as British.
Oh, fuck it.
To seal a treaty against the Pritish...
..perhaps you'd like to perform for us
the famous Pictish dance...
..of the fish.
Just try and stop us.
Aye, aye, the dance o' fish!
(Bagpipes skirl)
# The fish, the fish, the terrible fish
# The fish, the fish, the terrible fish
# The cloudy eye, the cloudy eye
# It'll make you gag
# Gag!
# Gag!
# A fish, a fish, a fish, it goes with...
# Carrots
# Aye
Crassus, I think we have another act
for your games.
(Mutters)
# Right in a puff, right in a puff
It's the invasion.
We've got to get out of here and warn the tribe.
We must stick together.
If we stick together, we live.
Ooh, no-one who ever died in a Roman arena
ever thought of that one. Pssh!
- If you make that noise once more...
- What noise? This noise? Pssh!
You'd both better come and look at this.
(Crowd cheers)
They execute people in cold blood
without even goading them.
We may be barbarians but we're not savages.
Except on holidays.
(Crowd roars)
(Whimpers)
Mummy!
CROWD: Hail, Caesar! Hail, Caesar!
Sorry to be a nuisance. What happens now?
- Warm up.
- Oh. Hold this.
We have brought the Pritish women forward
in the programme, Generalissimo,
so that we can make the morning tide.
You growing a beard?
No.
Open the gates!
DWYFUC: He's massive.
(Crowd chant)
Now that is a Goth.
(German accent) What Scheisshole is this?
- It's not even finished.
- Boulogne, Your Viciousness.
- Who are they?
- Pritish,
oh, cruel-but-technical one,
for the benefit of Caesar.
I think he saw me.
To celebrate Caesar's invasion of their country...
and to warm your...magnificent muscles.
There's something odd about them.
- They're women.
- Ah, so those are women! Hm.
Ive seen women before.
I like it. Give them swords.
I must warn you,
Im a fully-trained Dubonni warrior queen,
skilled in over a dozen martial arts.
(Sword swishes)
Including the Celtic Kick or Feet of Thunder
as it has become popularilily known.
I can kill a man in...
.. 1 7 different ways.
1 8 if you include cooking.
- Are we friends now?
- Yes.
Right...you feint and Ill do him.
Yeah, I agree, but the other way round.
No, no, Ive got to deliver the first blow.
I can't explain now. It's cos Ive had kids.
- Oh, yeah, bring that up. Im single!
- (Tuts)
DWYFUC: You've got to be first, haven't you?
Chippy, chippy little child.
Me?
- Don't cause a scene.
- Im not causing a scene!
- Im not causing a scene!
- Shut up!
- Yeah, after you shut up.
- So I can be first to shut up, can I?
(Sighs)
CROWD: Kill! Kill! Kill!
(Creaking)
I feel good.
Very loose.
Okey-dokey, that's-a lunch!
It's all my fault.
- Don't.
- She came here to rescue me.
She did, didn't she?
(Slaughter continues outside)
I was always so horrible to her.
I wasn't even horrible to her.
I wish Id been more horrible to her
or laughed at her a bit or...
(Dwyfuc whines)
It's too late now.
She's gone.
If only there were gods to help us.
If only they were real
and not just some primitive society projecting
its own moral system
on an unknowable cosmos
in order to justify itself.
Fuckin' hell!
Who are you?
(Sighs)
I er... I look after your sister.
Only Ive been er...a little remiss.
You wouldn't have such a thing as some
magic chicken innards on you, would you?
Yeah.
(Sniffs)
If these are what I think they are,
we may be in luck.
Stand back.
(Squelch)
SMIRGUT: She's completely mental.
Disappointing.
Right...
Look.
(Dwyfuc coughs)
Where does this go?
The Other World!
Well, go! Quickly!
The invasion has already begun.
- (Eerie screech)
- (Dwyfuc hums)
- (Screech)
- Ooh!
(Breathes quickly and mutters)
Tunnelphobic.
Shut up.
Don't like it.
Panic attack.
Do you know what, I think this is
one of these tunnels that goes on and on and...
Ah...
Oh...
SMIRGUT:
What the bloody hell's going on here? (Echoes)
It's like home. It's... It's beautiful. But it's different.
DWYFUC: Oh, it's like when we were kids.
SMIRGUT: Are we on drugs?
VILLAGERS: You're great, you're brilliant,
you're wonderful. Waaaaa!
- No, Im not.
VILLAGERS: No, seriously.
You're great, you're brilliant, you're wonderful.
Waaaaa!
Oh...
Sisters! You came!
Do excuse me. Sorry. Sorry. Do excuse me.
Smigs!
Fiercy, fiercy! Grrr.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- So, this is your Other World.
- Yeah. It's everything I ever dreamed of.
- Everything's perfect and everybody loves me.
- We've come to take you back.
What?
Why?
Because...we love you.
Yeah.
Oh.
You've never said anything like that
to me before.
Still not coming and you can't make me.
Ah, but you must want to be rescued
or we wouldn't be here.
What? Um...
Well, Ive changed my mind. Which...
..I can, because it's my world.
Actually, you know,
that's an unanswerable argument.
Mm, it is.
Grab her legs.
What?
Ee. Oooh.
(They scream)
- I see some steps. Going up.
- Oh, thank you. Thank you, gods.
(Crowd cheering)
Fresh air!
- Oh...
- Bollocks.
It's them!
Kill them!
CROWD: Kill them! Kill them!
Let's just take it nice and easy.
They may not have noticed us.
CROWD: Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!
There, you see, what did I say?
Call on your gods, British!
(Cheering)
(Crowd falls silent)
Right in the heart.
Yes, normally, that would be fatal.
- However...
- (Cheering)
..I had my heart moved to the other side
of the chest to counter this.
The same operation, I had my entire
nervous system ripped out of my body
so Im not able to feel any pain
in the vital organs.
Your gods?
I do the little one first.
CROWD: Schlaffwaffe! Schlaffwaffe!
Ive killed you before, haven't I?
So many shows.
Einmal ist keinmal.
I think this time I will cut you in two,
like I would...half a pig. (Guffaws)
What did you call me?
You called me...half a pig.
No, I said I would half you like a pig.
No, you didn't. You said,
I will cut you, ha-ha-ha, Halfapig.
No, I said half with an F.
Not half a pig the adjectival clause,
but half the active verb - to half.
My name is Worthaboutapig.
We have covered this point, I think.
Say it.
No.
(Screams)
Ooh.
Kill! Kill!
Relax!
(Wails) I can feel nothing!
(All groan)
Oh, no, it's not enough to be killed once
in one day, is it?
Well, I tell you, I have had enough!
I am officially weed off!
You know, just...just because Im unlucky,
and a coward and have bad boobs
and a face like a pie,
it's all right to always pick on me, is it?
My mother kept me in a bag of weevils
till I was five.
Oh, he's not even listening.
You're not even listening to me, are you?
Why does no-one ever, ever listen to me?
My only friend is a goose so disturbed
he lays long eggs.
Come back, you coward!
I want to die!
I want to be dead!
When I was dead I...I had a dress.
(Cheering)
Pig.
Nice work there, technically, with the teeth.
Are you OK there, little sis?
Yeah. I feel...strangely liberated.
I feel er... I feel good.
Pig!
Now is the time for the Celtic Kick.
Be careful, ragazzi.
They have-a the famous Feet of Thunder.
Always keep-a the eyes on-a the feet.
# Traditional jig
Right...run like, fast!
This way!
- What are you doing?
- Are you mad? We might never come back.
Actually, they're really nice.
I think Ill have a pair.
Nines? Nines?
Oh. Is there anything a bit less strappy?
Um... Have either of you noticed anything
about my breasts?
Wow! You've still got your Other-Worldly ones.
That's the thing, these are actually mine.
Incredible, isn't it?
It's this Gaullish boob holder.
Going home? Change money?
Come on! There's something
Ive got to take care of in Deal.
We've got to save Britain.
(Drunken singing)
Lo-fac-ta is a two-faced poncy French git!
There must be thousands of them.
Ah, but how many are we?
50? Including geese.
Fools!
They have us surrounded.
They made the most elementary mistake
in the art of war.
Or have I got that wrong?
Oh, who cares?
They have forgotten they are facing
the mighty Tuathfhlaifthfth!
ALL: Tuathfhlaifthfth!
SOLDIER IN DISTANCE: Halt!
- Shh.
March!
Ill summon a swarm of bees.
Um... No!
I said Ill summon a swarm of bees.
She's getting very wilful, isn't she?
OK, OK, OK.
Right, you go that side, Ill go behind.
If we don't see each other again,
Im sorry about the um...
..you know, the...the...hate.
- Likewise.
- The funny thing is...
..I can't even remember why we hate each other.
- Right.
- Right. No prisoners.
(Banging on shields)
(Geese honk)
Banalla, Orlanna, Assilda,
Den-dallan, Gwenaaaach!
Banalla, Orlanna, Assilda,
Den-dallan, Gwenaaaach!
They come!
- Banalla, Orlanna...
- (Bees buzz)
Assilda... Ahhh!
Tribe, this is it!
- Ahhh!
- Wait!
Look! There!
Down. Come on, boys.
Good.
A...ttack!
(Bees buzz furiously)
(Fearsome war cry)
Last one in's a Kent!
(Mass war cry)
(Queen yells feebly)
- Be careful, ma'am.
- (Coughs)
What's-a going on?
RHINUS:
Their women...they take us from behind.
Barbarians!
Hail, Caesar. I come from Deal Harbour.
The ship anchors have been cut in the night.
A storm comes.
If we do not retreat,
we will lose touch with the fleet.
To the sea.
I never get to see the ladies fight.
Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey!
Hey, everybody relax! Hey!
Hey!
Caesar...he piss off home!
(Cheering)
Oh! Ow! Get off, you little fuckers!
Ow! You bastards!
Filthy bee! Not up there! Ow! Owwww!
Rhinus!
No, go.
Save-a yourself, Caesar.
The republic needs you.
This invasion's going to need one hell of a spin.
(Tinkling)
(Camp voice) Free at last.
(Chuckles)
Oh, my brave boys.
Congratulations. Well done.
Lovely war. Really lovely.
- Oh, you have got a big wound.
- Only pain, ma'am. Only pain.
Hello. Well done.
I love the blue round the eyes.
Look, great Queen, it's...
the Princess.
Returned.
How many times must I tell you
not to chase strangers!
(Laughter)
Smirgut!
Mummy!
My daughter!
Oh, joy!
Send for her family!
Break open the offal
and fetch the one who imports the beer!
(Cheering)
Baby Smiry!
I actually brought her back, in fact.
Um... And rescued Dwyfuc.
Oh, yeah. I remember now.
That's what the argument was about.
MEN: Come on, heave! Come on!
Oi, you lot! What do you think you're doing
with that prisoner?
And defeated Schlaffwaffe the Goth
in single combat.
Won't mean much to you,
but he's huge on the continent.
I told you before...
you do not goad...or torment the Romans.
We found him hiding in the woods.
Reckon he's an asylum seeker.
Oh, right. Well, pass me that sickle.
Let's get his head on a stick while he's fresh.
Firmus!
Be quick.
I shall use this one...
..for sperm.
Have him oiled, taken to the maypole...
..and tethered.
(Purrs)
(Jaw clicks)
Im gonna have...a baby!
Im back.
Absolutely pooped.
(Puffs)
Mes dieux!
What?
Your tits!
- Do you mind if I...
- Yes.
Not until you've um...swept the floor.
And given me a big rub and made the dinner.
Sure, baby. Sure.
Thank you.
Yes!
And so Smirgut moved down south,
Dwyfuc got her baby,
and I got you.
JEAN: Hm?
- Im saying I got you.
- Quoi?
- I get you as a prize for doing well
and I get to keep you in my hut.
- Je comprends pas ce que tu dis.
- You don't understand?
Depuis une heure et demie.
For an hour and a half?
- Your tits.
- You don't speak any English at all?
- Mm, your tits.
- So what have you been doing since I left?
- Your tits!
- Bloody French!
WORTHABOUTAPIG: Put them down! Get off!
- (Ripping)
Ow! Not up there! Ow! Not up there! Oh! Ooh!