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Where do you think you're going, Danny Zuko?
It fits perfectly. Don't you like it?
Ew. Why is it squeaking?
It's new. I just need to wear it in.
You just need to wear it indoors.
Or are you going to a drive-in movie?
-[chuckling] I'm going to the snooker.
With your father. -Is that tonight?
You'll be okay. You've got Debs to...
lick biscuits with. -I only like the biscuit.
She loves the cream. It's perfect!
[Ring]
[Ring]
Mum?
I can't talk. I'm just cleaning an oven.
Feels weird, you doing something
with my dad, without me.
Would you prefer a girlfriend who loves snooker?
Such a mythical creature does not exist.
And, no, of course not. You make up for it
in so many other ways.
Like stopping you wearing horrible, squeaky jackets?
I'm keeping it.
Sorry can't hear you.
-Lauren, uh, that was Mum,
just calling to say she was -- and I quote -- "tickety-boo!"
What's happened? Is she okay?
Not sure. She said she's had two weird phone calls
from someone calling themselves
[whispering] McCready.
[Squeak] Who's McCready?
-McCready.
He was the ghost that used to haunt our house.
Thank you. That clears that up, then.
[Bagpipes playing] -I first saw him when I was 12.
He was tall, with fire-red eyes,
and dressed like an old highland warrior.
Aaaah!
She was doing a school project on highland warriors.
I know, he was just a bad dream. -You didn't think so,
at the time. She was obsessed.
She kept a diary about him.
None of us were allowed to say his name five times.
-So no one could summon him
and his demonic powers of evil.
McCready, McCready.
Ed, you should never joke about with the occult.
McCready. -No.
McCready, McCready! -Stop!
Die, ya English tart! Die!
Overheard. Couldn't resist.
Just popped round to see why Lauren's sister popped round.
Oh,
Eddie bear, that jacket.
[Squeak]
[whispering] Still think you look like a Grease reject.
-Well, I've certainly got chills multiplying
and I could definitely lose control.
That's far enough, Lydia. You know the rules.
[Squeak] -Hiss.
[Cackling]
Do you think we should go to Mum's?
Why, because of this McCready thing?
Well, that, and she will have better biscuits.
Biccies? -Uh-huh.
Biccies!
Oh, yeah. Do the biccy dance.
♫ Do the biccy dance! ♫
♫ Biccies! ♫
♫ Do the biccy dance! ♫
[Scat singing]
The Powell family! Study their faces.
The goofy son; the mother's hairy lip;
Mr. Powell's smug, git face.
Hate these faces, Charlie, hate them.
-Mum says you take bowling way too seriously.
Ah, what does she expect?
After she banned you from "dangerous" football.
No!
[Laughing] You're rubbish!
[Laughing]
Crow-in-face!
[gasping] Crow.
-It's okay, Charlie, there are no crows in here.
Your mum doesn't understand that men die without sport.
Plus, she'll never know the pain that was
missing out to the Powells last time.
But it's our turn:
you; me;
and our star player, Robbie. Do you know why?
'Cause, two days ago,
Mr. Powell cut his hand, shaving.
This is our chance.
"The ladder of success
is best climbed on the rungs of opportunity."
Do you know who said that? -Fireman Sam?
No, you wally.
Joey Barton.
[Ring]
Jane! Hi!
How's Robbie? Did he sleep well? Is he raring to g--
Pardon?
Appendicitis?
Yeah, but he can still play tonight --
Well, how burst is it?!
I wish you'd have let me answer the phone.
I'd have put him in his place. -Well, you were too busy,
deciding on your best snooker trousers.
-Yes, well, we shall be sitting down for a good while
and comfort is paramount.
Now, are you sure you're going to be okay?
I'll be fine. I've got my two grownup daughters with me.
[Giggling, rattling] Deborah, Lauren!
You'd better not be rearranging my badgers.
[Cackle] -Go on, get to your snooker.
Which, yes, I shall remember to record.
And will you remember to lock the shed door and that
my chap might be calling about the computer being serviced,
and could you give the garden a drink with the hosepipe?
Yes, I'll do it all.
As long as Lauren's ghost hasn't dragged me to hell.
You'll be fine, Emma. And Lauren will know what to do,
should the walls start bleeding
or if a poltergeist starts throwing plates about.
Oh, we don't need a poltergeist for that.
She went ballistic when I told her
I'd bought you a ticket.
"He should be buying you tickets, Clive.
He's the millionaire!"
His little jokes.
Told you we should've asked Ellie.
What, after last time, when she cried
'cause the bowling shoes didn't matching her jumper?
Yeah, exactly. Look, he's here.
At least, I think it's him.
Sorry I'm late, Keith. I had to find all me stuff. Ta-da!
Feels great to be back in the old gear again.
Still fits me like a glove, ha.
Hi. Alan Walker.
Though you may know me as The Pinslayer.
So,
all this gear's yours, yeah?
Yeah, used to play a couple of years ago.
Everyone was frightened of me and Betty.
Isn't she a darling?
Betty and I used to light up the Home Counties league.
Anywho,
shall we get this party started?
[Rumble]
[Hum]
[Rumble]
[Hum]
Fly, Betty, fly!
What wood is this lane made from?
Polyurethane topcoat, is it?
Why have I got a bad feeling in my stomach, Dad?
-Have you been eating Lego again?
No.
-Then it's dread, son. It's dread.
Wow, fabulous seats, Clive. So near the table.
Thank you. -It's nothing.
Pleased to have somebody to come with.
Ah, the snooker!
Drama and excitement, yet peace and quiet.
Name me a better place to get away from the other half
for a few hours.
-A massage parlor?
[laughing] I'm joking.
I've been looking forward to coming here for days.
That's why I feel so guilty.
The thing is, Lauren and I have been together,
we've been doing everything together, for months, now.
The honeymoon period.
-So I've been looking forward to coming here all week.
Not because I'm tired of Lauren
or because I don't enjoy her company. It's just --
You need a break.
I'll let you in to a little secret.
On our honeymoon, I ditched Emma
to watch the '76 FA Cup Final.
[laughing] But you hate football.
Exactly. Just needed to get away for an hour or two.
Stop being so *** yourself.
Lauren knows what you think of her.
Now we're here, let's just relax and enjoy ourselves.
Who do you fancy to win?
-Well, not Maynard, that's for sure.
He hasn't got a chance in hell.
Good luck, Maynard.
These seats are very close, aren't they?
Is this a hustle? Have they got to you, Alan? Are they
paying you to be this bad? -Oh, look, the snooker's on.
Don't try and change the subject!
I just need to warm up, that's all.
[Laughter]
All right, it's your turn.
This time, just try and get the ball
in the general compass direction of the pins, okay?
Fly, Betty, fly!
I got 'em.
I got 'em.
Brilliant, Alan!
Think that was a fluke?
So no more calls, then?
-Thank goodness. Well, you should've heard him.
He definitely said "McCready"
and that he was coming here tonight.
I just put the phone down.
The voice, it was horrible!
It was all croaky and with an air of menace.
Are you sure it wasn't Auntie Joan?
Are you sure it wasn't you? You managed to dig out
your McCready diary rather easily, didn't you?
-I was nostalgic. And why would I want to scare Mum?
Ahem. Listen to this:
"October 15, 1992.
Tonight, I saw something.
I heard a strange moaning coming from the kitchen.
There was McCready, his back to me,
standing in his kilt.
Then I saw it was just Mum in a tartan skirt."
Extraordinary. -No, wait wait wait wait.
There's something else in the margin.
[Gasp]
"I (heart)
Take That."
Yes, I do.
You know, if this house is haunted,
then it's all Lauren's fault.
She used to do Ouija boards in our bedroom.
No, it wasn't a proper Ouija board.
I just used to use some Scrabble letters
and a Dairylea triangle.
So don't worry, Mum.
-It doesn't bother me. I don't believe
all that mumbo-jumbo: ghosts, demons,
the Green Party.
[Ring]
[Ring]
Hello?
[Scottish accent] Don't slam the phone down on me again.
[Gasp]
-Who's doing this?
[gasp] What about Lydia?
No. For it to be Lydia, she'd have had to
sneak into our house, gone through my things,
found my diary, memorized it,
then got Mum and Dad's number, to start crank calling.
You're right, it's probably Lydia.
17.
-Ugh. [sniffle]
[chuckling] You do love snooker, don't you, Clive?
No, it's not that!
This woman in front of me,
she's wearing a mohair jumper and I'm allergic to mo--
mo--
By-ya!
[Spectators murmur]
Sorry. Sorry.
Settle down, please.
Beeyeah!
-Andrew Maynard, 17.
Settle down.
-Sorry. So sorry.
[whispering] This is intolerable!
I can't sit through the entire match like this!
[whispering] Would you mind taking your top off?
Or is there nothing underneath?
[Squeak]
[Squeak]
Whoever's making that noise, can they please stop?
[Squeak]
So sorry. Huge apologies.
No more noise. -No more noise.
[Squeak]
[Squeak]
Just lower them and sit still.
[Squeak]
Bizzo!
-[Murmuring]
I'm sorry. Sorry.
[Cheering]
And that's. the. first. game.
We. are. kick-ing. their. butts.
Go and get the victory ice creams,
Charlie.
Do you think that's wise? We've only won one game.
We shouldn't be gloating. -Ah, to hell with modesty.
They were laughing at your bowler's bum, before.
But you're The Pinslayer. Say it.
I'm The Pinslayer.
No! Say it like you mean it.
I'm The Pinslayer!
Like you really mean it!
-I am The Pinslayer, hear me roar!
I will break you and crush you
and then take your wife as my own!
O-kay, that's too much.
Wine, gin, tonics,
just in case you haven't got any, Lauren's mum.
Rum,
Angostura bitters,
lager, cider,
more gin.
Ooh!
And a packet of Nik Naks.
Lydia, we didn't invite you round for a party.
We summoned you. -Remind me?
To tell you to stop making crank calls,
to come over and explain,
apologize to my mum.
You all know what I've done, don't you?
I've forgotten the lemons!
Oh, just admit it! You're the only one with a motive
and the opportunity and the downright craziness.
-I'm crazy?
I'm not the one with a roomful of badgers.
It's like being in Wind in the Willows.
Or Amityville Horror. Well, I'm just saying:
if it isn't her, then it's got to be someone else.
Something else.
You mean like ghosts? -No, of course not. It's just --
Why don't you explain what's happening, then, Debs.
I'm with you, Lauren's sister.
The only thing evil in this house is that cushion.
Ghosts don't exist.
[Ring]
[Ring]
McCready? -Yes.
I'll return tonight.
Oh, you think you're scaring us, but you're not.
This fearful throb in my voice is just purely coincidental.
Do you hear me? Hello!
[Dial tone] -Hello! Hey!
He's hung up. He's hung up.
Well! At least we know it's not her.
Who is this ghost?! What does he want?!
What have you done to him?! -Please get her off me!
Get her off! -We're all going to die-ie-ie!
Lydia! Lydia!
REFEREE: One.
[whispering] I can't see the balls for tears!
Have you got a tissue, Ed?
-Hang on.
[Squeak]
[Squeak]
Like taking a plaster off --
all at once.
[Squeaking]
Foul and a miss.
Look, I won't warn you again.
Be quiet.
[Ring]
MAN: Oh, come on.
[Ring]
[Murmuring] -Ugh!
[Ringing] -I'm so sorry.
I forgot to -- I've never
turned this off before. -Give it here, man.
No, you'll squeak!
It'll be quicker if I just answer it.
Clive? -I can't talk now, Emma.
You will talk! We need the submenu code
for the burglar alarm, for the doors and windows.
Go away!
I'll text it to you!
Please don't kick us out.
I love snooker more than life itself!
Do you want them removing from the auditorium?
[Murmuring]
[Beeping]
Clive. -I've just put it on silent.
No, I've got an itch.
You're going to have to scratch me.
I can't do it, can I? I'd squeak.
Please! It's the tip of my nose.
Ah.
That's it.
Now on my neck.
Up a bit.
Left. Left, a bit more.
Ah.
Ahh! That's it.
REFEREE: 6.
-And my chest.
Please! This is torture.
That's no good. You're going to have to reach inside.
MAN: For God's sake.
Ahh. Ahh-ahh-ahh.
[Giggling]
Yeah!
Strike!
[Hum]
It's my phone.
Yes, and it's tickling me.
It'll be Emma. It'll stop soon.
[Hum]
[Hum]
I can't sit here with that tickling me.
You're going to have to scratch me again.
[Hum]
[Hum]
Leave. me. alone.
I need that alarm code!
It's 232--
I can't hear you! Speak up!
I said it's 232--
I can't hear a word you're saying!
I want you to leave the snooker this instant, Clive!
There they are! -Oh, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum!
Dad, it's Lauren. Just hold up your fingers
to tell us the code. We can see you right now.
Oh oh oh,
and tell Ed he looks very handsome
on the television. Mwah.
There, 2.
3.
He would never make a gesture like that
to a professional snooker player.
Mr. Maynard said you were also
making disparaging remarks about him before the match.
True, but I never intended him to hear those.
There's nothing malicious going on.
See? I've even taken off my jacket
and given it to this lady here.
Inside-out -- no more squeaking, no more sneezing.
And we're turning our mobile phones off.
-Ah.
I think we should leave one phone on,
just in case Emma and Lauren need us in an emergency.
What, you mean like Casper the Friendly Ghost attacking them?
Okay, fine. I'll leave mine in silent mode,
but I am definitely not scratching you again.
-One more distraction,
you're out. -We won't make another sound.
[Musical ringtone] ♫♫
As soon as play resumes.
Excuse me.
Sorry.
Alan, I'm at the snooker. -Yeah, I know.
It's on here. That Maynard's appalling.
But you got to get down here, Ed.
I'm bowling the game of me life.
This moment's bigger than the moon landing
or when Nando's first opened.
I have to switch my phone off. Play's about to resume.
We're in trouble for distracting.
Distracting? -Maynard.
He seems to be getting put off by the slightest things:
my jacket squeaking,
sneezes, phones going off.
You'd think that a professional
wouldn't be fazed by that sort of thing.
No, us athletes are finely tuned.
The slightest thing to unsettle us and...
Fascinating, Jessica Ennis, but I've really got to go.
[Mobile rings, music throbs]
[Child squeals]
Alan, everything okay? -Distractions.
What?
I've got a routine.
I created my routine to clear my mind,
but I've just been talking to Ed about distractions
and I keep thinking about them.
I'm getting distracted by distractions.
There aren't any distractions.
The background noise, the music playing,
that feral child whose parents aren't keeping an eye on him,
phones ringing.
But, worse than all these put together --
Did you notice
that Mrs. Powell has a mustache?
[Quincy Jones's "Ironside" plays]
Forget about the mustache.
Just bowl, Alan. Focus!
Focus, right.
Focus.
[Rumble]
[Hum]
Fly, Betty, fly!
Lydia, now we know it wasn't you,
there's no need for you to stay. -Oh, I think I'd better,
Lauren's mum. What if you opened the door to let me out
and a maniac pounced on me?
It's a chance I'm willing to take.
I could ring for my special friend Raul to come over,
protect us? -Ra-ul?
He's very handsome.
And reasonable.
Where's your computer?
It's away, for some service or other.
Oh, that's a shame. I could've shown you his photo
on guystonight.com.
They provide
quality male company for today's more discerning lady.
[Giggling] -Want me to give him a ring?
That won't be necessary. Thank you.
Though, I admit, I would feel safer if your father were back.
Look at him there, watching his beloved snooker,
without a care in the world,
while we're barricaded in for our lives.
Keith's the same.
He's bowling, so he won't pick up the phone.
Sport. I'd sooner have competed for Eddie's affection
with another woman than bloody sport.
Whenever a man says "I'm just going for a round of golf",
what he actually means is "I can't stand your face!
Get out of my way, or I'll spit in your eye."
That's not true.
Is it?
We all become sports widows, at some point, Lauren.
Ed really wanted to go to the snooker.
I'm a snooker widow.
Ouch! Already?
It's not like Ed's going to meet someone at the snooker, is it?
-Really?!
He's talking to a woman now!
[laughing] And she's wearing his jacket.
What is she doing?
Eh!
Stop wearing his jacket!
They're catching us up. -Sorry.
But how can I focus with...?
[ "Ironside" plays ]
We're so going to lose. -Don't you say that.
Alan, is there anything we can do for you, get for you,
to help you refocus, help you relax?
Swimming with dolphins.
Great. I'll just ask if they've got any behind the bar.
Here, have some ice cream.
Banoffee'll take your mind off things.
No, banoffee won't help, this time.
It's lodged in my brain.
How can she walk round like that?
Do they even notice it themselves?
Well done.
Stay there.
So, Mr. Powell,
like it hairy, do we?
[Gasp, sobbing] -How dare you.
Ah!
Ohh!
That went better than I thought it would.
[Thunder rumbles] -It's raining.
I can't see a thing.
[Doorbell rings]
Oh, that'll be Dad and Ed.
-They're still at the snooker, you pleb.
Let's not answer it.
Did Lydia go out?
-No, she's upstairs, sleeping off a vat of wine.
What do we do? -Well, not answer it.
Whoever it is will just have to come back in daylight.
[Thunder crashes]
Aah! A face, a man at the window.
-What did he look like? Did he have evil, red, glowing eyes?
I only caught a glimpse.
Ah!
REFEREE: 134.
Settle down, please.
[Whistle] -Settle down, please!
Settle down.
-Shh! [tsking]
Is he still there? Can you see anything?
I'm still ringing your father.
[Alarm blares] -Oh!
REFEREE: 140.
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Hum]
[Alarm blares]
EMMA: That's the front door! Someone's got in!
DEBS: Go and have a look, Lauren!
LAUREN: Why me?! -'Cause it's your demon!
Get out! -Emma! Emma!
Get out of the house! Flee! -Run!
Run for your lives!
Get out!
Ow!
Oof!
-Not in the face!
I've got a young girlfriend!
I'll grab his arms. You grab his legs, hmm?
[Alarm continues blaring]
3, 2, 1.
-Love you. Aah!
Aaaah!
Ew!
Lauren, Lauren's sister,
this is Raul, from guystonight.com.
Terrible Web name. You should be called
tightbuns.co.uk.
I invited him over to liven up our little soirée.
[Keith laughs delightedly]
They've gone right off the boil.
-Hardly surprising.
You said his wife looked like Magnum, P.I.
I was just doing what was necessary.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold."
Do you know who said that, Charlie?
Joey Barton? -Jamie Oliver.
Now, go and buff Betty for Alan's final throws.
Look, you're distracted,
so it's only fair that they're distracted, too.
Now go out there and complete this game
and win us that trophy.
[whispering] Pinslayer.
[Rumble]
[Hum]
Fly, Betty, fly! What the...?
-Aaagh! Ah!
3PO! -[Sob]
I'm so sorry!
I was distracted. Look!
My nose! It feels like broken biscuits.
-No, nothing's broken. Stop being so --
Oh, my God! That's horrible.
Right, we've got to get you to hospital.
No! Then we'll have to forfeit the game.
There's more to life than sport, Charlie.
Like your mum not divorcing me.
Up you get.
That woman there, you see?
She struck me.
And she was wearing a mohair jumper.
Damn it, I forgot to get my jacket back off her.
-Oh, so some good has come out of this.
And I'm not a sports widow, after all.
-No, neither's your mother, now.
Lifetime bans.
And for what?
Warning you to run away from Lydia's ruddy toyboy!
By the way, has the highland warrior-demon called since then?
-No!
It'll be a mystery we'll never solve.
Up there with
why toasters have a burn-it setting
and what type of animals Wombles are.
[Doorbell rings]
[Thunder rumbles]
[Scottish accent] Here it is.
That's him, the weirdo caller.
No, this is Brian,
the computer chap I told you about.
It's him, the horrible voice!
BRIAN: Sore throat, that's all.
Flu. Loads o' it about.
Is your surname McCready?
No.
But you have been ringing the house all day, haven't you?
Don't deny it.
Not denying anythin'.
Rang to tell you your Apple Mac was serviced.
Told you I was bringing it round.
You kept slamming the phone down on me.
Because you kept calling yourself "McCready".
No, I didnae. -Yes, you didnae.
No, I didnae! Look!
I don't need this hassle. -Just a second. Clive,
you've got a Mac computer? -Yeah, that's right.
You said the Mac was ready?
Aye, your Mac's ready.
"Mac ready". -That what I just said!
Screw youse,
I'm going home!
See? Nothing to be frightened of.
I wouldn't go so far as that.
Look how much he's charged me!
[Laughing]
-McCready, ohh.
Aah!
¡El diablo!
Raul, darling,
where are you going?
¡El diablo, ah!
¡El diablo!
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