"Oh dear!" "Who did this then, chief?" "It was like it when I got it." "Oh, my days!" "Look at the state of that axle." "What a bodge!" "Oh dear." "Oh dear." "My mum could have done a better job with those wheel arches, and she's been dead 20 years!" "That's bad then, isn't it?" "They're all warped." "Look." "I'm just looking for a bit more speed is all." "You race then, chief?" "Planning to, planning to." "Underground or in the arena?" "Well, hopefully arena one day." "What's underground?" "Wannabe circuit." "Every Saturday outside the city wall." "Oh sweet." "Bunch of dickheads!" "Think they know the first thing about racing." "I hate dickheads." "It could be several things slowing her down, boss." "The wheels, the axle, or the arches." "I'd start again with all of them." "OK, how much do you reckon this is gonna...?" "495 denarii." "Oh." "Or, could it just be the horse?" "Yeah." "To be fair, it could be that." ""Owing to the failure of your legal representative in court."" "Sorry about that." ""You will hereby be deported in five days time" ""unless you are able to pay a 3,000 denarii fine" ""or obtain a work permit from a reputable company." ""We hope you've enjoyed your stay in Rome and please do not come back."" "I am so sorry." "If there's anything I can do, please just say." "Can you pay 3,000 denarii?" "No, to be fair, I can't do that." "What about Grandma's inheritance?" "That's a few thousand?" "It was." "It's now about 50." "Right." "Is there a grandpa that could maybe help out?" "By help out you mean die." "Grandpa will outlive us all." "Mm, great." "Well, look we'll find a way out of this, I promise." "The way I see it, things couldn't be any better." "Right, how exactly?" "The girl I may well love is being deported." "Because I'm racing this Saturday." "She bets her money on me, I romp home, she pays off her fine, job done." "Racing as in..." "Chariots, baby." "On the underground circuit." "Ah, and underground as in..." "Tunnels, probably." "No, Grumio, underground as in not that legal." "Oh, perfect!" "She should bet on me." "My odds will be good cos I'm new." "You're shit." "A bit of both." "Sorry, what is this?" "Carbs, for the race." "I've got to carb up." "Do you?" "The horse is doing the work." "I egg her on, don't I?" "Not very well, clearly." "I've never seen Peggy go quicker than a trot." "That's not true!" "Do not suggest gambling to the girls, OK?" "I'm taking care of it." "All right, fine." "G-man, is this carbs or sand?" "It's a sandy carbs." "Keep going, champ." "All right." "No pain, no gain." "Yeah." "Go on, champ." "Huh." "She's dedicated, conscientious, she works well on her own and as part of a team." "And needs a work permit to avoid deportation." "Pretty much." "Her CV seems to be a list of accents." "Yes, I'm an actor mainly." "That's my acting CV." "Proficient in folk dancing I see." "I'm a bit rusty, but I'm happy to do a refresher course if it helps." "It doesn't, because this is an office." "Ever worked in one of these?" "No, but I'm keen to learn." "And she does have useful officey skills, don't you?" "Yes, I can do adding and taking away and the other one." "Can you fuck people's husbands?" "Erm... is that an officey skill?" "Not really." "How's that relevant?" "My bastard husband has just shacked up with one of her lot." "My lot?" "Yes, you know?" "Young, blonde, perky." "OK, that's not really her fault." "No, no, I know." "I don't want to take it out on you but if you stay much longer" "I may very well stab this pen into your milky white neck." "Right, let's maybe leave it." "Thank you for the opportunity." "Come on, Peggy." "Yeah!" "Yeah." "What you doing?" "Just trying out a new noise." "Yeah." "Hah." "Go on, you bugger." "Go on, get, get." "Stop." "We're confusing her." "Try the carrot." "No, I meant on Peggy, Grumio." "Oh." "Right, yeah." "Hah." "Hah." "Salve, Grumio." "Horsing about again." "All right, Davus." "How do you get something to run?" "Maybe chase it with an axe." "Usually works for me." "Sounds a bit full on." "So listen, how do you fancy a rotisserie chicken?" "Keep talking." "So, Landlord's now living in this exclusive gated community, slash maximum security prison." "Right." "I wondered where he'd been." "And he wants to see you." "Why me?" "He values your specific talent." "What's that then?" "Being able to fit through a tiny pipe." "I'd do it myself but pff, I could barely get my dick in there." "Well, I want the chicken upfront then, so I can eat it in the pipe." "You know it's a sewage pipe." "Mm, OK, I'll have it after." "Good stuff." "Right, up and at 'em." "Come on, my son." "Uhh." "Ergh." "Yeah, push me." "That's it." "Oh, it's dead brown." "Close your mouth maybe." "Oi." "Landlord." "Salve, Grumio." "All right, Landlord." "Am I glad to see you." "I don't know." "Are you?" "Yes, I am." "So how's prison going then?" "Quite secure unfortunately." "I feel a bit erm, stuck." "You know what I mean?" "I do actually, yeah." "I'd give you a tour but..." "I should be getting back." "It's a bit whiffy in here." "Sure." "Well, do me a favour and give this to Davus, will you?" "It's just a little shopping list." "Got ya." "Ta-ra then." "Come and see me anytime." "You know where I am." "It's doing my head in." "I just can't get Peggy going no matter what I do." "Have you tried whipping her?" "What, whip Peggy?" "Whip her on the bum." "Dig your heels in." "She'll go like the clappers." "I mean, Peggy is a horse, right?" "No, she's his new girlfriend." "You want me to whip her on her bum." "I got confused." "Dig his heels in." "I thought she was a horse." "That's what you're into." "That's how you make women go?" "I'm not into that." "Pervert!" "No." "What are you into?" "If you're not into that..." "I'm into big booties." "Really, water boy." "Remind me to have the salad for lunch." "Yes, don't worry." "You're perfectly safe." "Water man." "Good to hear." "Don't look at my tuchus again." "Copier, I've decided to give your perky little pal a job and therefore a work permit." "Oh, brilliant." "That's fantastic." "I've overcome my anger towards my husband due to some Celtic breathing techniques." "Those guys can really breathe." "They can indeed." "In with peace." "Out with pain." "Whoo." "The job comes with two conditions." "Go ahead." "One, she must dress dowdily." "I'll cut a hole in a sack." "And two, you must visit my house tonight, gain entry and beat the living shit out of my husband." "Sorry, I don't really understand." "It's very simple." "You beaty hubby, she getty jobby." "Yeah, I'm not gonna beaty hubby." "Then no getty jobby, because that love rat bastard needs to bleed hard..." "And in with peace." "And out with pain." "Of course you could beaty hubby." "You're nails." "Am I, though?" "I'm really scared of violence." "And wasps." "And crowds." "We have already blackmailed Flavia's husband." "We'd be adding injury to insult." "We're only gonna shit him up a bit, not kill the guy." "Not sure it's worth it." "All this faff for a girl who doesn't like me." "Of course she likes you." "I've been hounding her since she moved in and I've got nowhere." "At least if she leaves, Metella will go with her." "Don't give up now, hey, if she's leaving she might have sex with you because she never has to see you again." "Oh perfect." "How romantic!" "Fuck romantic!" "You need to end your sex drought, dude." "End the drought!" "Douche me." "Ooh." "Hi, is Cynthia in?" "No." "She's gone to the gardens before we return to Britain where we're being deported because of you." "I have said sorry." "Can I take a message?" "Tell Cynthia I've tried my best but I'm not getting anywhere." "I could have told you that." "With the work permits." "To keep you guys in Rome." "Ah-ha." "So I guess that's that then." "That's the last time I hear you lamely knocking at our door." "And the last time I'm disappointed when it's you that answers." "Well, it's been an absolute blast." "Are you ready for this to be slammed in your hideous face one last time?" "Actually... no." "Not yet." "You have always tried to get between me and Cynthia." "Right from the start for no reason." "You are totally wrong for each other." "Surely you get that by now?" "Tell you what I get, mate," "I get that you are a cold knob, who's always hated me." "Given we're never gonna see each other ever again, I wanna know why." "Because you're such a crap kisser." "And you're a grumpy cow." "Shut up, you whiny prick." "I don't know." "It just happened." "And with that, the sex drought ends!" "I'm so proud." "Thought you liked the other one." "Yeah, well so did I." "I thought you hated this one." "Again, so did I." "She's always so shitty with me." "Exactly, because she wants you bad." "This is what I've been saying all along." "You've never said that before." "Have I not?" "No." "You've not." "I've definitely thought it." "We've agreed to keep it secret." "Carry on like we hate each other." "You've had plenty of practice." "Yeah." "But the weird thing is, I think I really like Metella." "Of course you do." "You two are well suited." "You're both brainy and... frowny." "I mean, it's perfect." "Isn't she being deported?" "I'm sure that bit's not ideal." "Still, you've got a couple of days of rampant humping." "Then you can wipe her down and wave her off." "She can't go." "Not now." "I've been chasing the wrong one this whole time." "I need to keep them here." "What you gonna do?" "I think we've got a hubby to beaty." "OK, this one's Flavia's house." "Right, here's the plan." "You pin him down." "Right, pin him with my hands?" "Not with pins, clearly." "I was thinking I could do a berserker." "What's that?" "You just kind of hulk out and cause mayhem." "Yeah, don't do that." "OK, I have it really as a backup." "You're gonna create a diversion." "What's that then?" "Just make him look the other way so I can smack him about." "Nice one." "And let me do the talking." "Good luck, everyone." "Hello there." "We work with Flavia." "We've come to pick up a folder." "What, all three of you?" "It's a really big folder." "OK, then, come on." "Hey, I know you." "You're the guy who blackmailed me for my chariot." "Oh yeah." "That was me." "Sorry about that." "No worries." "Actually did me a bit of a favour." "Went and bought a bigger one." "Oh, amazing." "Yeah, that stepped it up a bit of a gear." "Leather trim, metallic paintwork, those really nasty spiky things on the wheels for racing." "Ooh nasty." "I just entered a race." "Have ya?" "Oh rock on, man." "Bit of a speed demon, hey?" "Er, guys." "Hardly, he can't even get Peggy to run." "She's not responding to the command?" "What command?" "Guys, Pegasus is a highly-trained racing animal." "She's not gonna run unless you give her the proper vocal command." "And what is that?" "Moooo." "A moo?" "Yeah." "I guess she must have been a bit freaked by cows when she was..." "Hey, sorry." "Can I offer you some food?" "Yes, please." "Got this amazing Ligurian ham." "It is the business." "I've got a very feisty cheese over there." "That's very kind of you, but we do need to get that folder now." "Go and get it then." "We'll have some feisty cheese." "Grumio, I mean..." "Fucking hell!" "What was that?" "That's for being a dirty love rat." "You've just slapped me." "Yeah." "I can't believe you just slapped me, you dirty, filthy bitch." "Well, believe it." "Get off me." "Ooh, ahh." "Get off me." "Hey, look over here." "Moony." "Ooh." "Get out my house." "Right." "Ahhh!" "Shitting hell." "My sword." "My sword." "We're going." "Come on!" "We're leaving now." "Twats." "So, all in all, I think it was a success." "Really?" "My husband's totally unscathed face and body suggests otherwise." "But we shat him up though I bet." "Not so much actually according to Cornelius." "You ate various cold meats." "That was Grumio." "Then one of your bore their bottom." "Also Grumio." "Whilst you took your top off." "I was hulking out, doing a berserker." "And then broke one of my vases." "I did slap him." "Did he mention the slap?" "He did not." "I did slap him." "He did." "He slapped him good." "So, can Cynthia have the job then?" "What do you think?" "We just go back to plan A, they bet on me, I win the race, they pay the three grand, you and Metella live snarkily ever after." "That is not plan A." "There's not enough letters to give that plan a name." "I know the special noise now." "Sure, you can moo at a horse." "That really fills me with confidence." "What are you doing?" "Trust me and I will win." "I don't think it works like that." "Well, at least admit I can win." "OK, I admit it's mathematically possible for you to win." "Thanks, man." "I appreciate it." "Thanks, babe." "You all right, lads?" "Hey." "Hi, Cynthia." "Metella." "Get anyone deported today, you ugly bastard?" "Not yet, you ginger prick." "We're selling the things we can't take back to Britain with us." "Everything must go, including us." "You never know." "You might be staying." "Right, Marcus?" "Er, yeah." "There's one last option." "You could always bet on him." "Yeah, do that." "Bet on him to do what?" "I'm in a chariot race." "That's your plan?" "Betting on him." "He CAN do it." "And will." "I know it's not what we'd want, but it's all we've got." "How about we throw caution to the wind and just give it a go?" "Britain's a long way away." "So, I'd much prefer to have you next door." "Delivering the shopping, delivering the shopping, delivering the shopping to Landlord." "Oh, lovely." "That will work a treat." "What's all this stuff for then?" "Erm, I'm thinking of joining the woodwork club." "Yeah, escape the drudgery." "Won't they have tools there?" "No, no tools in prison." "Only screws." "That's for whittling." "Oh." "So what you gonna make then?" "I don't know." "I guess maybe a swing." "Oh, yeah, wicked." "The years will fly by if you're on a swing." "That is the idea." "Oh." "Hi, Cynth." "Hey, so when's this race then?" "A couple of hours or so." "Stylax is already there." "Geeing himself up." "Right." "Shouldn't he be geeing the horse up?" "Yeah, he won't be told." "Whatever works, because I'm going to do the betting." "You are." "Wow, that's fantastic." "I'd do anything to stay in Rome." "I can see how much it means to you to have us next door." "It really does." "God knows what freaks might move in instead." "Yeah, but it's more than that though, isn't it?" "Is it?" "You've pursued me since the moment I got here." "Sometimes I've felt flattered and other times I've felt mm, harassed." "I guess I'm starting to see what might have been." "Only now when it's almost too late." "So how about we do what you said and throw caution to the wind?" "Oh." "Now." "This is what you want, isn't it?" "Yeah." "Davus!" "Davus!" "I'm finished." "Davus!" " Make way!" " Ooh!" "Hi." "Out there." "I'm late for a race." "Salve, Grumio." "All right, Landlord, pull us out." "Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush." "Ooh." "Help!" "Oh, by jove, he's done the double." "Sex drought all year and then boom, sex flood." "I'm a dirty love rat." "Yeah, I know you are." "I'm so incredibly proud." "What the hell do I do though?" "Will they definitely tell each other?" "Pretty sure they will." "Cynthia's also keeping it secret but that won't last long." "Is it out of the question that they might be willing to share you?" "Share me?" "They're more likely to stab me!" "Look, I think it's best for all of us, but mainly me, if the girls just got deported after all." "Good thinking." "Which of course they will if you lose the race." "Oh, no, no, no, no." "Bad thinking." "Don't make me throw the race, dude." "You don't have to." "You're not gonna win it as we both know." "All I'm saying is, if by some freak occurrence you look like you might win it, just don't." "OK, for me?" "Huh, fine." "Ah cool, man." "May as well stop lunging then." "Cheers, man." "Right." "Here goes." "Uhhh!" "Ha, ha." "Bloody hell." "In the next race we've got Castro at nine to four," "Attibius at three to one, and Aidanus at seven to one, and Stylax at one hundred to one." "Hey." "I did the betting." "Cool." "On Stylax, right?" "To win." "Yep." "We'll make over 5,000 denarii if he wins." "The odds on him are brilliant, as in terrible." "Great." "Well then, come on, Stylax." "All right." "Yeah." "Nut?" "Thanks." "Not for me." "Three, two, one!" "Come on, Stylax!" "Move it, Stylax!" "Oh." "Ooh." "Uh-oh!" "Mooo!" "No." "No." "Grumio." "No, Grumio." "Moooo!" "Go on, Stylax." "Yes." "Whoa, Peggy." "Whoa, Peggy." "Yeah, I can't..." "Whoa." "Whoa!" "Moo!" "Stop mooing!" "Ah, jove." "Final lap." "Come on!" "Come on, Stylax!" "Whoa!" "Jove!" "I don't like it." "I don't like it." "Ooh." "Keep on going." "Go on, Stylax!" "He's going to do it." "Oh." "Great." "He's doing it." "Did it first." "Uhh!" "Erm..." "The winner is Stylax!" "Uhh!" "Uhh!" "Don't like it." "Uhh." "You were right about the girls." "They're not gonna share you." "Uh-huh." "You were right about the race." "It is the horse, not the driver." "Uh-huh." "Which makes it a stupid bloody sport." "I mean, it's way too fast." "Especially when someone starts mooing." "How were I supposed to know you needed him to lose cos you wanted the girls kicked out cos you'd done the other one as well as the other one, I can't keep up these days." "Yeah, neither can I." "Hey, how come you leaving?" "I thought you'd won enough to stay." "We're staying in Rome, we're just getting out of this shit pit." "We don't want to live next door to a big-nosed, lying, cheating, bastard who makes this face when this orgasms." "I don't do that face." "You do actually." "That's it then." "There goes the love of my life." "Which one?" "Mm, yeah, not sure." "I've really fucked it up this time." "Oh bullshit, man." "You're my hero." "You've had sex with two girls in one week." "You live in the best city in the world and you get to hang out with me and G-man." "Things couldn't be any better." "Hey." "Yeah, before we hug, can we maybe wash off the blood, shit and vom?" "Oh." "Yeah, sure." "Come on then, douche me." "This way, lads."