Es mostren els missatges amb l'etiqueta de comentaris AND THE RTP COMPROU-A POR UNS CENTOS DE MILHARES DE CONTOS E 20% FORAM PARA....VER COMISSÕES E CU MISSÕES It is set in the fictional "Slade Prison" in Cumberland (now Cumbria). Mostrar tots els missatges
Es mostren els missatges amb l'etiqueta de comentaris AND THE RTP COMPROU-A POR UNS CENTOS DE MILHARES DE CONTOS E 20% FORAM PARA....VER COMISSÕES E CU MISSÕES It is set in the fictional "Slade Prison" in Cumberland (now Cumbria). Mostrar tots els missatges

diumenge, 26 d’octubre de 2014

BOOKS? WHO WANT BOOKS ? ....PRISON LIBRARIAN A GOOD JOB ....I read a book once. Green, it was.....LIVROS? EU LI UMA VEZ UM LIVRO ACHO QUE ERA VERDE ---LOST IN TRANSLATION THE NATION AND THE NOXIOUS NOTION ....A ARTE DE BEM CAVALGAR TODA A CELA - One: Bide your time. (raises index finger) Two: Keep your nose clean. (raises middle finger) And three: don't let the bastards grind you down. (Mackay turns around in shock to see Fletcher still has two fingers up) Oh, sorry (raises third finger). PUBLICADO EM 1976 EM PORTUGAL E VENDIDO AO QUILO PELOS EDITORES PARA CORTES DE PAPEL REVENDIDO POR 20$00 JUNTAMENTE COM CENTOS DE LIVROS DO PREC NO TERREIRO DO PAÇO POR VENDEDORES AMBULATÓRIOS NO INÍCIO DOS ANOS 80...JUNTAMENTE COM DISCOS DE 33 ROTAÇÕES Cheer up, could be worse. State the country's in, we could be free.’ ‘Doctor: I want you to fill one of those containers for me. Fletcher (other side of the room): What, from 'ere?

Any questions?
Fletch: Any point?
Mackay: None whatsoever.

Norman Stanley Fletcher, 'you have pleaded guilty and it is now my duty to pass sentence.
'You are a criminal who accepts arrest as an occupational hazard, 'and presumably accepts imprisonment in the same casual manner.
'We therefore commit you to the maximum term allowed for these offences.
'You will go to prison for five years.
' # 'David Hamilton! The happy sound of Radio One! # 'Here's a request from Bridget in Dundee for Ricky, who has blue eyes and looks like David Essex! 'Bridget is 16, 'works in a cake factory, and her job is to spot flawed almonds.
'She met Ricky briefly at a dance last summer on the Ayrshire coast.
'All she knows is that he's from Glasgow' .
.
And his hobby is beating up lavatory attendants! I'm listening to that! And I'M not! Sentimental slush! I have to listen to Friday Night Is Music Night! And I sit through Rosko! But I draw the line at David Hamilton! The wireless is never off in this nick.
They're piping Tony Blackburn into the kitchens.
Yes, they believe we're in prison to be punished.
Anyway, I wanted to hear the request slot - "Hello, Young Lovers" corner.
Oh, yeah? I sent a request in for Denise.
Denise? My fiancee.
Oh, that Denise.
I wanted to express my feelings of undying love.
I asked for "Everlasting Love".
You should have asked for "My Ding-A-Ling" (!) I've listened all week and it ain't been on.
You'd think MY needs were greater than some almond sorter's.
Did you write on prison notepaper? Yeah, you had my last sheet of Basildon Bond.
That's it then.
Are they biased against prisoners?! Not officially, but I can't recall hearing a prisoner's request.
Forces, yes, and ack-ack batteries, but never no-one from no nick, no.
We have a bad enough time without having requests denied! That's discrimination! AND five stamps up the spout.
You can see their point of view.
The public are bound to take offence.
You're all listening to "Family Favourites", and they read a postcard with a Parkhurst postmark! "Can 'Mad Dog' Hollister have Clair de Lune?" Clair de Lune? Yes, that's French for "by the light of the silvery moon".
I thought it might be a cultural conversation.
Hey, maybe you can tell us the ruling.
Ruling, Godber? Yeah, Miss Lonely Loins here .
.
wants to know whether the BBC ever play prisoners' requests.
No.
The answer to that is no - it could cause embarrassment.
Embarrassment? The prisoner's family might have excused his absence by saying that he was abroad, or working on an oil-rig.
Oh, I see.
No doubt your wife, Fletcher, has told your friends you are on a five-year safari (!) No, she just says I'm doing missionary work in Scotland.
The practice was also open to abuse.
There was nothing to stop prisoners sending messages in code across our airwaves.
Oh, yeah.
That is a point, innit? Some heart-warming Christmas message from an old lag to his wife and family, eh? "Can we have Harry Secombe singing The Impossible Dream?" He really meant, "Be outside E-wing with a ladder on Boxing Day and a mince pie.
" Good idea.
It's an abuse of privilege, which is why I'm here.
Not a social call? Six soft toilet rolls have disappeared from the Governor's closet - his personal water-closet.
Would you Adam and Eve it? Whatever next? Knowing you, probably the seat.
Don't look at ME, sir.
Nor me.
It's writing-paper I'M short of.
It's not right.
We've had to give him prison-issue tissue.
That's rough (!) Rough, yeah! I'll say it is.
That'll wipe the smile off his face! Fortune has given you two privileged positions here.
Don't jeopardise them by any infraction of the rules.
I'll say no more.
Thank you.
Thanks for the advice.
To which we'll pay great heed.
Now naff off.
Certainly! Certainly! He's always picking on us.
It's his suspicious mind, the nosey nerk.
Care for a glass of toilet roll? You've got one! Yeah.
I did have six.
Where's the other five? I traded them.
Who to? There are still a few felons with a bit of refinement.
There are two embezzlers on the bottom landing.
There's an unfrocked dentist and a lot of white-collar felons who'd jump at this sort of stuff.
What do you get? I'm owed some nice merchandise.
I'm promised a cricket sweater, a pair of Hush Puppies and a box of after-dinner mints.
Hey What? Share and share alike! What? It's a rule of the house, isn't it? Share my toilet roll? It's only fair.
Share my toilet roll, Godber?! Look at all these socks I've darned! All right.
Mind how you go! Hello, Dad! Hello, Ingrid, love.
Hey, Fletch, this is me mum.
Pleased to meet you, Mr Fletcher.
The pleasure's mine.
This is my eldest, Ingrid.
Sit down, Fletcher! And you, Godber! This isn't a royal garden party, you know! Who's he? That's Mr Mackay.
Charmless Celtic nerk! Who's the boy? Eh? Oh, that's Lennie Godber - my temporary cell-mate.
He's from Birmingham, but he has got O-level geography.
You need it to get around Birmingham.
How's your mother? Oh, she's fine.
She sends her love.
Oh, good.
How's your sister? Marion's fine.
She's got a new job! Can't she keep a job for more than three weeks? The bosses molest her, she alleges.
She flaunts herself, don't she? Skirts right up to her expectations.
Where is she now? Timothy Whites.
They won't molest her there - they're all qualified pharmacists.
Her flat fell through.
What flat? The one she shared with six people.
Six! Fell through the floor, I should think! No, the rent went up, so she's home, pro tem.
How's young Raymond? Fine! He won the mile in the school sports.
Did he? Ah.
If I had, I might not be here now.
He swims for the school and he's the stage manager in the school play.
Why isn't he in it? He played Yum-Yum in the Mikado last year.
His voice has gone.
Oh.
Well, he's on 30 a day.
He's what?! He's only 14! 30 a day! That's terrible! That's a dreadful waste of money.
He saves the coupons! That's OK then (!) He wants an aqualung.
He'll need one if he has 30 a day! He wants to go skin-diving in St Ives.
It's all extra-curricular.
Don't he fancy anything INSIDE the classroom? Mostly the girls, Dad! 'Ere, I don't want him getting no girl into trouble! Well, if YOU hadn't, I wouldn't be here! We don't want any coarse remarks of that nature! I can't believe my ears when I hear kids today! There's nothing wrong! You and Mum have proved your love wasn't an infatuation Silver wedding! I still don't want my love-life to be a yardstick! Raymond's only 14! When what happened happened to your mother and me, we were mature 16-year-olds.
In Highgate Cemetery, it was.
But WE had something behind us.
The tomb of Karl Marx.
No, but your mum had a nice, steady job in Gamages, and I had my plastering diploma from borstal.
Talking of Highgate Cemetery, how's YOUR love-life? Oh, least said Is it still Eddie Risley? I've warned you about him.
He's a crook! He's straight, Dad! He's just a tough businessman.
Yeah (!) It isn't fair, people saying he'd sell his own mother.
I heard that.
Who from?! The two blokes who bought his mother.
It's no good talking to you.
You've got a blind spot about him.
So have you.
Giving you a bad time, isn't he? I don't know where I am with him.
You don't half pick 'em, do you? You're a bonny girl.
You could have anyone you wanted, you could.
And also, you're not getting any younger - 24.
That's not old! It is for a teenager! And a spinster! Oh, Dad! Things have changed since your day! Girls don't want to be tied down so quick.
They see alternatives to marriage.
Not in Muswell Hill, they don't.
They've twinned the Odeon! I'm talking about moral standards! What do social commentators know? Nothing about the real world! They all live in NW1! Never been further north than Hampstead or further south than Sloane Square! In the REAL world, Birmingham, Muswell Hill Are you wearing a bra? I don't need to, Dad! What do you mean? My breasts are firm and pliant.
Please, Ingrid! This isn't St Tropez! It's Slade bleeding Prison! The men here would go berserk at the sight of a shin, never mind unfettered knockers! Dad! I'm sorry, but it has to be said.
You are very naive about the effect your body can have on a shackled male.
Dad, YOU are naive in some ways.
I'm sure no-one's even noticed! Godber? Godber! GODBER! What?! What? Are you awake? What's the matter? You got any snout? No.
Would you believe it? Yeah, I would, you inconsiderate nerk! I thought you'd given up! I felt like starting again.
Mind your head.
Me mum bought me some Maltesers.
No, thanks.
And cake.
No, thanks! If you haven't got snout, go back to sleep! Thanks, you old scrote! What's the matter, anyway? I've got things on my mind.
Like what? MY business! Oh, come on.
You've woken me up now.
I just get depressed at times, that's all.
Stinking stir! KICKS TABLE That's not like you, Fletch.
A father's place is with his kids, giving them affection and guidance.
I've got three, you know.
Yeah, I know.
14, 19 and 24.
Why the gap between each? Circumstances dictated that.
How? Well, I had to keep going in prison for five years, didn't I? Teens is a terrible age - you expect trouble.
But you'd think my Ingrid would have learnt a few lessons by now.
She seemed a nice girl to me.
She had lovely I know what she had lovely! I'm her father.
Be careful, Godber! Eyes! I was gonna say eyes.
Lovely eyes.
Big and blue.
Oh, yeah.
And a nice smile, which seemed to indicate a warm nature.
True, true.
I hope you don't mind me saying this .
.
but I couldn't help overhearing a bit of what you said.
Most of us did.
Oh, yeah? This Eddie don't seem good enough for her.
He's not.
He says he's in the motor trade - he forges car log-books.
Not that SHE'D believe it.
How can YOU be sure? I bought two off him.
They weren't much cop either.
He spelt Citroen with an S.
Well, I shouldn't worry too much.
He'll get rumbled, and that'll give her time to find someone new.
And I should think young Marion will settle down now at Timothy Whites.
Don't worry about Raymond - I smoked at 14.
And congratulations on your silver wedding.
Did you earwig ALL my conversation? Why didn't you talk to your mother? It's a long schlep from Birmingham! She's doesn't have much to say - just a list of family ailments.
No news of Denise? She don't talk about Denise - she don't approve.
Why not? She uses green nail-varnish and doesn't wear a bra.
Her and Ingrid have a lot in common.
Your Ingrid's got nicer knockers! Fletcher, could I have a word? I'm playing draughts.
It IS important.
I wouldn't ask otherwise.
So is THIS, innit? Duty calls.
We'll have to call it a draw.
Half each.
Sorry to disturb you in association hour.
That's OK.
It's only draughts.
Not your game as a rule, is it? No.
There's not much else to do now.
Look at the Ping-Pong ball.
Oh, I am sorry! It is a mess.
Yeah.
Anyhow, I wanted a quiet word.
I'm all ears.
Do you know where Godber is? He'll be at one of his poxy evening classes.
Tuesday - woodwork.
He's up in front of the Governor.
Is he? The lad? What's he done? He's attacked a prisoner in the kitchen.
He attacked Jackdaw with a soup ladle.
I don't believe it! It's quite true! It was a severe and unprovoked attack, the officer said.
I don't believe it! I know Jackdaw gets on everybody's nerves, but Lennie's a passive sort of boy.
He wouldn't hurt a fly! I thought you might throw some light on the matter.
I dunno He seemed his usual self this morning.
At lunchtime he was cheerful.
But Mr Pringle did slip on a bit of orange peel and hurt his back, so we was ALL cheerful.
Fletcher! Be serious! Godber is in trouble! It's so irrational, you see.
I like that lad, you know.
I think he shows a lot of promise.
It's the system, innit? It's turning an affable young lad into a violent criminal! You're sitting on a volcano which could at any time erupt into violence and mayhem! Fletcher, you've got your finger on the pulse.
How can we avert this? Well, there is one thing you could do to postpone the holocaust.
What? You could indent for another Ping-Pong ball.
Fletcher! Well then? Well then, what? I heard.
Heard what? I heard you hit Jackdaw with a ladle.
Heard right then, didn't you? Must've had your reasons.
I did.
Ain't you going in the cooler then? No.
Lucky lad! Lucky, am I?! Yeah! Assault, innit, ladling a fellow prisoner?! Automatic cooler offence, ladling.
I just got loss of privileges, due to the mitigating circumstances.
You must have had mitigating circumstances! Look, you don't HAVE to tell me.
You don't HAVE to say what drove you to launch into Jackdaw with a deadly weapon, to wit, one ladle! I won't then.
I'd rather not.
Oh, I see.
I see! It hasn't occurred to you that your hitherto blameless record is due in no small part to yours truly.
I'm only the guy who showed you the ropes, kept you on the rails, loaned you his soft toilet-paper! I'm not ungrateful! Every time I go to the bog, I'm not ungrateful.
Having eavesdropped into MY private life, don't you think it's time I knew something about yours?! I got bad news! Jackdaw took the mick, so I hit him when my mind was disturbed! News? Yeah! What news?! Oh.
It's a Dear John letter.
In my case it's Dear Lennie.
Naturally.
Yours, but not forever, Denise, eh? That's right.
So it's the DEMISE of Denise! That's not funny, Fletcher! Was that a joke? Not what I call a joke! Don't you think I've seen it happen hundreds of times? It's inevitable.
At least she's honest.
They're all at it like knives while we're here! But her main concern in her last letter was whether to get a budgerigar or a canary! In your future life together? Yeah.
One decision you won't have to make.
I suppose not.
Look, I know it's only academic now, but .
.
speaking personally, from personal experience .
.
I would say that always, by and large .
.
I would plump for a budgerigar.
Oh.
Why? They're more friendly, and canaries are prone to draughts, you know.
I think it's the angle of the tail.
I speak from experience, 'cos we had a canary once.
Surly little bleeder! As you say, it's academic.
Yeah.
He's dead now.
So, Denise has had Someone's There's another man, is there? Do you know him? His name's Kenneth.
He's in the merchant navy, so there's no contest.
I see.
Jolly Jack Tar, the sailor with the navy-blue eyes and all the gold braid? Sun shines out of his port-hole, I know.
Don't worry, it's only temporary.
Once he's at sea, you'll be out with Denise, and he'll be up the Persian Gulf.
Then you can just assume your rightful place in her affections.
It's just temporary.
I don't think so.
No sweat.
She's married him.
She's what? Last Saturday.
She thought I should know.
Married him.
The Cross Keys did them proud - pate and salad.
Well, I'm appalled.
I don't know what to say.
Pate and salad! Mum's coming next month.
She would have come today, only the doctor forbade it.
He said she'd be a fool to herself.
Nothing serious? Just something going round.
Marion ain't with Timothy Whites no longer.
Ain't she? Dispensed with her services, have they? She's got a job selling shirts.
She shows them round the offices.
Makes a change from showing her knickers.
She's found another flat in Maida Vale, and what you'll be most glad to hear is that me and Eddie have split up.
Have you? Not before time, girl! That's a great relief to us all.
Yeah, we was very worried about that liaison.
Do you mind?! Get on with your own visit, please! Sorry, Mrs Godber.
Haven't you got any news from the home front, dear? Well, I can't think of anything to say.
It's like visiting people in hospital.
Force yourself, love.
Here, here, here! He does bird impressions.
You all know the procedure! Conversation will be confined to the person opposite the prisoner.
There will be no fratricide here.
That's what I told him.
So if you'll excuse us, Godber Sorry, Fletch.
Sorry, miss.
That's all right.
So, you've given Eddie the big E.
That's good.
Stick to what I tell you in future, right? I do! Ain't you noticed how discreet I am today? What do you mean? Last time I embarrassed you, so this time I've given you no cause.
I don't get you.
Oh, Dad, look! I'm wearing a bra! Look at that, look at that! What? It's a Ping-Pong ball, innit? Two-star! You don't play! I don't, but some nerks here do! Ping-Pong balls are scarce.
I'll get four ounces of snout for this! Look at that! Fletch Yeah? Can I ask you something? # Feel free! # No, no, no! What? You know when I was worried after that letter about the stigma of being an ex-con? Yeah.
Do you think it'll be hard working my way back into society? Depends on the breaks.
Did YOU have any difficulty? No, I've never had any trouble, 'cos I always go straight.
Straight back into crime.
But with you it's different.
You're young.
You've got an honest face.
Is that enough? Yeah, I think so.
Character, that's what you've got.
Character.
You're a good lad.
So you think then, that if a girl cared for me, she'd forgive my past misdemeanours? Yeah, if she's a human being.
Any human being would.
You've got to learn to believe in yourself, 'cos I believe in you.
Do you? Of course.
I'll post this then.
Could you get Barrowclough to post it outside? Who to? BBC? Yes, on plain notepaper.
"Hello, Young Lovers" corner?! Is all this for the benefit of that slag, Denise? No, not her! Who then? Ingrid.
My Ingrid? Our eyes met across the room.
My daughter Ingrid? And we both knew.
You think I'll let my Ingrid take up with you?! A juvenile delinquent from Birmingham! Fletch! Be careful! Why? You've crushed your Ping-Pong ball.

Fletch: Oh, by the way - when you have your medical, tell him you've got bad feet.
Godber: Why?
Fletch: 'cos then you might get your brothel-creepers back. Otherwise you'll be given prison boots - and they're guaranteed to give you bad feet for the rest of your life!

Doctor: Suffer from any illness?
Fletch: Bad feet.
Doctor: (annoyed) Suffer from any illness?
Fletch: (insistently) Bad feet!
Doctor: Paid a recent visit to a doctor or hospital?
Fletch: Only with my bad feet.
Doctor: Are you now or have you at any time been a practicing homosexual?
Fletch: What, with these feet? Who'd have me?
Doctor: (stamps his form) Right, you're A-1.
Fletch: A-1! 'ang on, 'ang on, I can hardly walk here, doctor! (pretends to limp over to scales)



Doctor: Now I want you to fill one of those containers for me.
Fletch: What, from 'ere?

Godber: I'm only in here due to tragic circumstances.
Fletch: Which were?
Godber: I got caught.

Heslop: I read a book once. Green, it was.

Fletch [explaining to Godber about the early lights-out]: If you wanna watch Z Cars, forget it. You'll have to get your kicks from the Wombles of bleedin' Wimbledon.

The Hustler [1.2]

[Fletcher is on the farm, feeding the pigs]
Fletch: You eat like pigs an' all!

Mackay: What have you got there, Fletcher?
Fletch: [sotto voce] Crown jewels. [out loud] Chicken feed!
Mackay: Empty it.
Fletch: It'll make a terrible mess, Mr Mackay!
Mackay: Empty it!
[Fletch empties the bag, which contains nothing but chicken feed]
Mackay: All right Fletcher, just don't let me catch you thieving!
Fletch: I won't, Mr Mackay.
Mackay: You won't what?
Fletch: I won't let you catch me, Mr Mackay!

A Night In [1.3]

Fletch [to Godber]: We could go out, you know... yeah, I could phone up a couple of them dolly birds that dance on Top of the Pops. What are they called? Pan's People. There's one special one - beautiful Babs. Dunno what her name is.

Fletch: That's what you've got to tell yourself, you're just having a quiet night in.
Godber: Trouble is, I've got six hundred and ninety-eight quiet nights in to go.

Prison officer: (Fletch has just sat on Godber's needle) What's going on 'ere, then? (indicates Fletch) Did you assault this man, Godber?
Godber: No, he sat on me darning needle.
Officer: That true, Fletcher?
Fletch: Naff off, can't you see I'm in agony?
Officer: Why don't you get a move on? (Walks out of the cell)
Fletch: Why don't you go home an' see who's been sleeping with your old lady while you were night duty.
[Officer returns to the cell, looking bemused]
Officer: (sarcastically) Ha, ha, ha. Oh that is original, Fletcher. I've been havin' that for the last seven years. (wanders off)
Fletcher: So's she an' all.

A Day Out [1.4]

[Barrowclough and the prisoners are trapped in a locked church]
Barrowclough: Come on, Fletcher, you've been convicted of breaking and entering.
Fletch: Ah - "entering" being the operative word, Mr Barrowclough. I ain't never been convicted of breaking out of nowhere.

Ways And Means [1.5]

Fletch: Lots of famous people have been illegitimate, you know. William the Conqueror.... Napper Wainwright....
McLaren: Who's Napper Wainwright?
Fletch: He was a screw at Brixton. Mind you, he was a bastard.

Men Without Women[1.6]


Series 2

Just Desserts [2.1]


Heartbreak Hotel [2.2]

[Fletch has a question for Mackay]
Fletch: 'Ol love-lorn Lenny here wants to know whether the BBC ever play prisoner requests.
Mackay: No. Oh no. The answer to that is no. On the grounds that it could cause embarrassment."
Godber: Embarrassment?
Mackay: To the prisoner's families. The families might've excused his absence by telling the neighbours that the felon in question was abroad, or working on a North Sea oil rig.
Godber: Oh. I see.
Mackay: No doubt your wife, Fletcher, has told your friends that you are on a five-year safari. [chuckles at his own joke]
Fletch: No. She just tells them I'm doing missionary work in Scotland.



[Godber has just asked Fletch if he would make it outside of prison]
Fletch: With you, it's different. I mean, you're young, you're 'ealthy, you've go an honest face.
Godber: Is that enough?
Fletch: Yeah, I think so, yeah. Character, that's what I can read there. That's what you've got, son. Character. [pats him on the shoulder] You're a good lad.
Godber: So you think, Fletch, that if somebody cared for me. Like, a girl, like, she'd... uh... forgive me past misdemeanours?
Fletch: Yeah. If she's any sort of human being, yes she would, yeah. Any human being would. [places his hand on his shoulder] You see, you've got to learn to believe in yourself, ain't ya, eh? 'Cause I believe in ya.
Godber: Do ya?
Fletch: Of course I do, yeah.
Godber: [handing him an envelope] Oh, well, I'll post this, then. Could you get your mucker, Barrowclough to post it in the village for me quite, like?
Fletch: [Reading envelope] Who is it? BBC?
Godber: Yeah. It's on plain notepaper, so they won't know it's from a prisoner.
Fletch: "'Ello Young Lovers Corner?" Is all this soul searching just for the benefit of that slag Denise?
Godber: No! Not 'er.
Fletch: Who, then?
Godber: [tentative] Ingrid.
Fletch: [obviously shocked and infuriated, smiles falsely] My Ingrid?
Godber: [poetically] Our eyes met across the crowded room.
Fletch: My daughter Ingrid?
Godber: [continuing] And though we didn't know each other, we both knew -
Fletch: [interrupting him in fury] You think I'd let my daughter Ingrid hang out with the likes of you!? [Grabs him by the shirt and raising his fist] A JUVENILE DELINQUENT FROM THE BACKSTREETS OF BIRMINGHAM!!!
Godber: Fletch! Fletch! Fletch! Be careful!
Fletch: WHY!?
Godber: You've crushed your ping-pong ball.

Disturbing The Peace [2.3]


Mr. Mackay: I think some of you wrongly assumed that I had left you for good. But, as you see, nothing could be further from the truth. Only... I am somewhat disturbed to hear what has been happening in my absence. So now... We're going to have a new regime here, based not on lenience and laxity but on discipline, hard work and blind, unquestioning obedience. Feet will not touch the floor. Lives will be made a misery. [At the door] I am back, and I am in charge here.
[Mr. Mackay leaves, but as he walks down the corridor, Fletch and Godber start singing]
Fletch and Godber: [singing] For 'e's a jolly good fellow, for 'e's a jolly good fellow, for 'e's a jolly good fellow, and so say all of us.
Other inmates: [joining in] And so say all of us, and so say all of us. [Mackay smiles proudly and continues to march to the exit] For 'e's a jolly good fellow, for 'e's a jolly good fellow, for 'e's a jolly good fellow... And so say all of us!

[Fletch and his friends are cleaning a floor. Mr. Wainwright walks through it with dirty feet, leaving boot marks.]
Fletch: [annoyed] Mr. Wainwright! Now look what you've done!
[Wainwright wanders over, leaving more dirty marks]
Fletch: We'll have to do it all again now, won't we? [Wainwright nods with a smirk on his face]
[Fletch sulkily dips his cloth into his bucket of water and throws it on the floor, deliberately near Wainwright's shoes. Wainwright's smile fades and he angrily steps forward and crushes Fletch's hand with his boot. A cry of pain is heard.]

Fletch: [Talking about Wainwright] Do you know what sorts of curtailments we've suffered? Shorter telly hours, no fraternisation in the exercise yard, and he's only removed our ping-pong table to put in your flamin' mess.
Barrowclough: Yeah, well, that's only until our billiard table is re-covered.
Fletch: Oh yeah, yeah, well, yeah.
Barrowclough: Well, it was your fault it wanted re-covering.
Fletch: Our fault?
Barrowclough: Well, some prisoner certainly tampered with it.
Fletch: Can you prove that!?
Barrowclough: Well, we can surmise it. When Nosher Garrett went over the wall, he was picked up in Blackpool wearing a green baize suit.

No Peace For The Wicked[2.4]

Fletch [sings]: Born free..... till somebody caught me..... now I'm doin' solit'ry.....
Fletch [sings]: I believe for every bit of rain that falls..... someone gets wet.



Happy Release [2.5]


The Harder They Fall [2.6]

[Fletch, under Grouty's orders, is trying to get Godber to throw his fight]
Fletch: [Slowly] I've got to ask you... Well, I've got to tell you, what someone has asked me... Well, told me... Well, that they was wondering you see... Well, they was insisting if you could see your way clear... Not that you've got much choice... Oh Gawd, I don't know how to say this to you, son.
Godber: But, what is it you're trying to say, Fletch?
Fletch: Tomorrow night ain't gonna be your night, Len.
Godber: How?
Fletch: Big Grouty wants you to take a dive in the second (round). [Godber looks aghast, while Fletch stares solemnly at his boots] It's no good looking at me like that. 'Course your shocked, I know you'll be shocked. I'm ashamed.
Godber: [Still aghast] I can't do that, Fletch.
Fletch: I know, I know that, I know that. I respect you for that. But you gotta try and see the position that I'm in, see?
Godber: Well, I appreciate that, Fletch, but I just can't do it!
Fletch: [pleading] But why not? I mean, what does it mean? It's meaningless. Just inter-wing fightin'! What is it, it's meaningless!
Godber: [shouting] I know that!
Fletch: [taking his arm] Well then why can't you do it? For me?
Godber: I've already promised Billy Moffet I'd go down in the first. (Moffet is Grouty's rival)

Christmas Special (1975)

No Way Out

[The prisoners are singing the carol Good King Wenceslas:
Prisoners: Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen. When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even. Brightly shone the moon that night, though the frost was cruel...
Mackay: [Entering] SILENCE!
Fletcher: [continuing maliciously] ... When a Scotsman came in sight, hollerin' -
Mackay: That'll do, Fletcher.

[Fletcher is in hospital with a broken leg after falling through a false escape tunnel he was showing to Mackay, who is visiting him]
Mackay: There is one question I'd like to ask... [crosses to door and checks nobody is outside] What became of the soil that was excavated from the tunnel?
Fletch: Ah now, wait a minute, I don't know what you're imagining about our relationship, but do not presume you've got a new informer in your back pocket. Everything's just the same, it's still them and us, I'm still on the side of us.
Mackay: Perfectly harmless question, Fletcher, for future reference. I just want to know they disposed of the soil.
Fletch: [insistently] I can't help ya!
[Mackay smiles, takes a green bottle of whisky from his packet, shows it to Fletcher and places it on his dinner tray]
Mackay: Scotland's finest.
Fletch: [checking the bottle] With a couple of nips out of it, I see.
Mackay: Well, still a rare treat.
Fletch: Bribes, is it?
Mackay: Christmas present.
[Fletch reaches for the bottle again, but Mackay rests a finger on it to stop him]
Mackay: Come along Fletcher. Just between you and me.
Fletch: Is that door closed?
Mackay: [grinning triumphantly] Oh yes. And there's no-one outside.
Fletch: Christmas present?
Mackay: Christmas present.
[Fletch takes the bottle, unscrews the cap and takes a glass]
Fletch: You wanna know how they disposed of the soil?
Mackay: Simple as that.
Fletch: I'll tell ya.
Mackay: I thought you might.
Fletch: [pouring himself some whisky and leaning in close] They dug another tunnel and put the earth down there.
[Mackay smiles and leaves, but freezes when he realises that Fletch has made a fool of him -- since if true, what did they do with the earth from the 'other tunnel'?]

Christmas Special (1976)

The Desperate Hours


Series 3

A Storm In A Teacup [3.1]


Poetic Justice [3.2]

Fletch [to Rawley, the judge who sentenced him]: If I'd known you was crooked I could have slipped you a few bob!

Rough Justice [3.3]


Pardon Me [3.4]

[Fletch and Blanco are playing Monopoly]
Fletch [draws a Chance card]: Would you Adam and Eve it? "Go to jail".


[Blanco is just about to leave the prison on a pardon]
Fletch: Here here, come here. [Blanco approaches] Listen, we all know that you didn't kill your old lady, see. Which means that some other bloke did. And you've paid the penance for it, right? But I don't want you going out there harbouring any thoughts of revenge, alright?
Blanco: No. I know 'im wot did it. It were the wife's lover. But don't worry, I shan't go round searching for him, 'e died years ago.
Fletch: Well, that's alright then...
Blanco: That I do know. It were me that killed him!