~ Are we nearly there yet? ~ Stop asking me that.
~ I need a wee, though. ~ I told you to go before we left.
I didn't need it then. Pull over. I'm busting.
All right, but be quick. I don't know if we can park here.
You can't. That's a loading bay. That's a five denarii fine.
~ Oh, come on, mate! ~ You can't stop here,
~ unless you're loading or unloading. ~ We just unloaded him!
~ And now he's unloading himself. ~ Soz, I were busting.
~ Oi, short-arse, stop that. ~ Sorry, Officer.
~ I did tell him to go before we left. ~ Is he yours?
~ Sort of, but... ~ So make him stop.
~ Can you stop that, Grumio? ~ Not really.
~ I'm mid flow. ~ He's mid flow!
Public urination is a ten denarii fine.
Oh, eff off! Jobsworth, dickhead!
~ As is insulting a warden. ~ Right, terrific (!)
So that's five for the parking
and ten each for the piss and the dickhead.
Have a super day now!
Yeah, you too, mate.
Ooh, I needed that. Off we go, then.
# When in Rome
# Do as the Romans do
# Far from home
♪ All I got is you... ♪
Chuffing Nora, is that the law courts?
Looks more like a palace. How come they've got so much dough, then?
How do you think, Grumio? They keep fining goons like us.
Hey, is that Fabianus?
What? Ignore him, he hasn't seen us.
Hey! Fabianus!
It's me, Stylax, from school.
He's seen us now.
Hey, Stylax, wow! How weird.
I had no idea you were even in Rome.
And Marcus, and the little slave.
Hey, Fabianus, great to see you.
~ I'm called Fab now. ~ Are you here to pay a fine too, Fab?
Not quite, no, I... I work here.
~ You're a lawyer? ~ Yeah, for my sins.
~ Junior counsel. ~ That's amazing!
It's amazing they let a thicko like me do it.
It's just shouting in public, really, but for money.
What about you guys? What are you up to?
~ Still a slave. ~ Uh-huh.
~ And Marcus? ~ I'm a writer.
Oh, cool. What kind of writing?
Er, a real range. It's whatever happens to come to me.
~ He's a copier. ~ Oh, a copier!
~ Good for you, buddy. ~ It's a stopgap.
~ I'm a charioteer. ~ Fab. ~ Not really.
Training to be. That's how I got my ticket.
The training's more about speed than parking.
Uh-huh. Let me see, then.
OK, parking in a loading bay,
public urination, insulting an officer.
Wow, you guys are naughty!
~ Yeah. ~ We're happy just to pay them.
You don't need to. The warden who issued these failed to put a serial number, so they're not valid.
You give them to Lydia in Appeals, she'll let you off.
Thanks a lot, Fab!
~ Glad we ran into you. ~ Yeah, me too.
What are you guys doing tonight?
I'm having a little soiree at my place.
Nothing major, just some chicks and chaps and chips and some dips.
What do you say? It'll be like old times.
No way! We are not going. Fabianus is a total goon.
But it's still a party, and he's called Fab now.
The last time I went to a party of his,
he wouldn't come out from under his bed cos he pooed himself
and everyone was calling him Flabby Anus. It was rubbish.
That was when we were ten. It wasn't everyone - it was you.
~ Bullshit! We all did it. ~ Nah, that was just you.
You drew the big bum picture in his locker and made up the big bum song.
# Flabby Anus! Flabby Anus!
# You've got a flabby, flabby, flabby anus!
I stand by it, mate.
~ You live here, do you, lads? ~ Why? What's going on?
~ I want your landlord. ~ What do you want him for?
~ Housing illegal immigrants... ~ Shit!
..and dealing drugs, trafficking weapons, trafficking people,
engaging in extortion, bribery, vote rigging and murder.
Oh. He's in trouble, then, is he?
I'd say so, yes.
~ Mr Centurion! ~ Yo! Got those papers, then, love?
Sorry, my scatty slave still can't find them,
but I promise you we're not illegal.
So if there was any way you could just let us off, please?
Nah, sorry, I can't do that.
~ Pretty please? ~ What does that mean?
Just the same as please, except I'm pretty.
Still no.
Right. Bear with me.
Do you think the landlord's done a runner or what?
Hope so. Rent's due tomorrow.
It's too big for me, frankly, but it's close to work,
so, yeah, it's handy.
Must be very difficult to heat in winter.
Oh, it is. That's why I put the hypocaust in.
~ Under-floor heating all year round. ~ Sick!
I think where you live sounds fab, though.
All that hustle and bustle and cattle.
Sorry, one sec.
Hey, babe, so glad you could make it.
See you.
So, let me give you the tour.
Little balconette.
Holy shit!
I know. I hardly ever use it, to be honest,
because I'm always at the bloody office.
Thanks again for getting us off those fines.
Any time. I never forget old mates.
So if you ever need help, I'm here.
Likewise, as am I.
Aw, so sweet of you to offer,
but I've already got my own team of copiers.
Up here on the right is my personal fitness suite slash meditation studio.
Hm.
Fair play.
Ooh.
Oh, fuck!
~ This is my own personal Hades. ~ Why?! He's being really nice.
It's like he's forgotten about the bad shit you did to him at school.
Of course he's forgotten. He lives in a penthouse and he's having sex with her.
He's not thinking about the big bum I drew on his locker at school.
Oh, shit!
It's Cordelia from the year above.
~ Isn't that who you lost your virginity to? ~ Sort of.
Sort of?! I don't think you can 'sort of' lose your virginity.
You can, actually. It was in the ditch behind the running track.
We were young and inexperienced. She was tense
and I was...limp.
Limp? How? That thing's always on -
when you wake up, at lunch, when you get brushed by a woman or a breeze.
Yeah, thanks, man, yeah. I just can't believe she's here.
After all these years, I've finally got a chance to set things straight.
~ OK, lovely. See you tomorrow, then. ~ Mm.
Marcus, I've had a bit of an accident.
Oh, what now?
You bloody idiot! Just put it back.
~ How? ~ Stick it back on or something.
~ What with? ~ I don't care, Grumio.
It's your dick. You deal with it.
Thank you very much.
Hi, Cordelia.
Stylax Eurysaces!
Well, I'll be damned. I haven't seen you since...
Yeah, I think we both know when it was -
behind the running track at school.
Of course. I can picture it now.
Don't do that. Listen, I'm gonna cut to the chase.
~ I need another crack. ~ Right.
~ Subtle as ever, I see. ~ I've got some killer moves now.
Well, I don't know, Stylax.
I mean, you really think you've got it in you?
Whoa! I've got it in me,
and this time you'll have it in you.
OK, that's romantic.
Sorry, what I meant is we owe it to our younger selves
and our younger goolies to fulfil our destiny.
We'll be amazing together.
Come on, you bastard!
All right?
Yeah, fine.
Why are you holding my statue's phallus?
Why not?
Hm...
So where were we?
~ Somewhere round here. ~ Oh, yeah.
But in a ditch.
OK, I'm ready.
~ Sorry, you're... ~ I'm ready. Do it. Put it in.
Erm...just a sec.
~ Aren't you ready? ~ Erm...
Yeah, I'm ready. Just bear with me.
~ Come on, put it in me, Stylax. ~ Yeah, I...
Come on, is it in yet? Put it in me, Stylax, come on!
Hm... Hm...
Now, look, I'm really sorry.
This has, like, never happened before.
Like, apart from that one time.
~ It happened again. ~ You're kidding!
Yeah. At one point, I tried to salvage some dignity
and sort of fold it in.
~ Fold it in? Like an egg? ~ More like a rope.
Oh! What was she doing?
Well, this is it.
She just lay there like a log saying, 'Put it in,'
exactly like she did in the ditch, which is standard when you're 15.
~ But now? She's not learned a thing. ~ Neither have you.
I've learnt loads, thank you very much.
I just can't work in those conditions.
~ She's got to wriggle around. ~ Did you tell her that?
I was in no position to criticise.
My penis was like a cold little acorn.
As far as she's concerned, it's my problem.
That's not fair. That would have happened to anyone.
Mm, not me, mate!
Well, maybe wait until you've had sex and...
Oh, yeah, ha-ha-ha! You're really funny.
I've actually had sex eight times, so eff off.
~ Eight? ~ Eight. ~ Is that all?
~ Eight's loads and you know it. ~ It isn't.
It is. And for all eight, I was hard as a nail.
~ And as big as a nail? ~ No, bigger.
~ Your dick's the size of a big nail? ~ No.
~ Is it as thin? ~ My dick is as big as a tent peg.
That's good to know, Water Boy.
Remind me to take you with me when I go camping.
Yes, will do. It's Water Man.
Now stop all the squawking in here.
I have got a horrid hangover.
Yeah, sorry, it's just Stylax couldn't get an erection.
~ Why was he trying to do that? ~ Not in here.
~ In bed with a lady. ~ Oh, I see.
A word in my office, Shredder.
My husband routinely suffered from the droop
and when it was at its peak, so to speak,
he'd insist on using a splint to prop the thing up.
~ That's clever. ~ It's not.
Splints mean splinters,
and that is frankly unacceptable,
~ even for someone of my admittedly off-centre proclivities. ~ Oh, ouch!
Your best bet is Carthaginian glory root.
You'll need to ask drug dealers or possibly gardeners.
The street name is 'gentlemen's friend' or 'hell mouth'.
~ Hell mouth? ~ Yes, it makes the mouth smell very much like hell.
So, once taken, you can't kiss or speak or indeed open it,
so you will need to get straight down to business.
Yeah, shouldn't be a problem.
Urgh! Ah!
Oh, salve, Grumio.
Landlord, what are you doing in there?
Er, just a bit of fun,
a bit of, erm, hide-and-seek.
Oh. Who's doing the seeking, then?
Well, the rozzers, I expect.
~ So what have you got there, then? ~ It's a stone penis.
I need to hide it from the guy what it belongs to.
So there's a stone guy looking for his dick?
No, the real guy who owns the stone guy.
Oh, right. Oh, well, hide it in here with me.
~ Ah, wicked. Cheers. ~ What's that on the end of it?
~ It's pate. ~ Ah!
Lovely.
Any chance of any more? I'm starving in here.
~ Oh. ~ And, erm, hush-hush, OK?
~ Hell mouth? ~ Yeah, or gentlemen's friend,
for when I next see Cordelia.
Why do you want to see her again? Just forget her.
Are you mad?! I have to stick it to her
before she starts trash-talking my penis.
~ Who would she talk to? ~ Well, I don't know: anyone - Fab.
Forget that smug shit as well.
Let's never see either of them ever again.
~ Marcus, you have to help us. ~ Hey, what's up?
~ Figured out what happened to those papers? ~ Yes.
Remember the cold snap, when it was so freezing
~ that I couldn't get out of bed? ~ You wouldn't get out of bed.
Anyway, we ran out of kindling for the fire,
and whilst Mets went out to find some,
I sort of improvised and, well...
~ We don't have any papers. ~ Right.
But we do have a court summons.
You don't know anyone who could help us, do you?
So you'll take the case, then?
Marcus, it would be a pleasure.
~ Thank you. ~ That is so incredibly kind.
~ I don't know what to say. ~ Say nothing.
A friend of Marcus is a friend of mine.
He was always such a good mate at school.
Yeah. We should probably...
Before you go, actually, bud,
I don't suppose you know what happened to my satyr statue the other night?
Hm, no. Why?
~ The phallus has been snapped off. ~ Oh.
Maybe his wife caught him cheating.
Yeah, it's not that!
Someone stole it, and it's an antique.
But I'm sure it'll turn up.
Oh, and Marcus, she's a peach. Top work, buddy.
Oh, thanks...Fab.
I thought the pate would go well with a slice of bread.
~ Good thinking. ~ And then I thought
I'd get some ham to make it into a sandwich.
~ Didn't really ask for that... ~ Then I figured
we'd need some wine to wash it down with.
And then a cake for after and a cheese course for after that
and then a chicken
and then another chicken.
~ Shall I be mother? ~ Go on, then.
He's forgotten about everything: the big bum stuff, the drawing.
~ Are you sure? ~ 100%. He just wants to be my friend.
Does he know about me and Cordelia and the whole floppy dick thing?
It didn't come up, so to speak.
Ha!
I need to get hold of that root, man.
Knock a doodle doo.
~ Fab! What are you doing here? ~ This is your office?
It's so cute. It's like where the toys might live.
Was there a reason you came or...
Yes. Fab news. We've got a date for Cynthia's hearing.
I know the judge. He sits next to me at the arena.
~ Ah, brilliant! ~ Keen eye for the ladies,
so tell her to get dolled up, show a bit of leg,
and let's just say he'll have no objections.
~ OK, bud? ~ Yes, bud.
Nice beard.
Thank you. I know.
Hm, cool guy.
~ I don't need that. ~ Hey, come on! As if!
I can't find any glory root.
I've advertised my impotence all over the city,
and can't find a single drug dealer.
Did our wardrobe just fart?
Phew! Been holding that in for ages.
Grumio, why is the landlord in our wardrobe?
I didn't put him there.
And the stone dick, did you put that there?
~ Yeah, that were me. ~ We've got a known criminal,
literally, squatting in our wardrobe.
You boys owe me rent for last week.
Give me rent for the wardrobe, then.
~ How about we call it quits? ~ How about I call a centurion?
Or how about you let me stay, and I help you look for the glory root?
~ Oh, yeah? Really? ~ Why look around for a dealer
when there's one right under your nose?
Oh, sorry, big lunch.
Phoo!
~ Where is he? ~ He'll be here.
Is this enough make-up, do you think, Mets?
Yeah, that'll probably do.
Here he is. See? It's all fine.
Fab!
Fab! We're this side.
~ Why's he sitting over there? ~ I don't know.
I'll just... Fab?
Right.
~ What is it? ~ It's nothing.
It's just sort of legal, you know, jargon.
~ It looks like a big bum. ~ Yeah, it does a bit.
Why has he given us a bum picture?
Basically, funny story.
At school I drew something very like this on his locker, so...
~ Why? ~ Well, because his name's Fabianus.
So I used to... Everyone used to call him Flabby Anus,
and there was a lot of anus-themed...
~ Bullying? ~ It was banter, sort of one-way banter.
I thought he'd forgotten.
In the case of The Roman Empire versus Cynthia Cogidubna,
a Briton charged with illegal immigration.
Who is prosecuting?
Fab Meridius Attica.
And who's defending?
Er...er...
Oh, great (!)
Marcus Valerius Gallo.
Hello.
~ Ah! ~ Hey!
If I can take you back to the night in question, mid-November you say,
~ can you please describe it to me? ~ Of course.
It was extremely cold.
Breathing was painful. I'm sure you all remember.
I don't personally, because I've got under-floor heating,
but I have obtained a weather report from the city's meteorologists.
Let me read it to you.
'The week of the 12th of November:
rain, scattered showers,
wind - north-easterly,
temperature - 17 degrees.
Unseasonably clement.'
He's good, isn't he?
It must be very warm in Britain,
if you find such weather cold.
Is it indeed warm in Britain?
~ Even I knew that. ~ Shut your gob. It's ponging.
Oh, good. Means it's working.
Better be over soon. I'm gonna peak too early at this rate.
She claims that she's an actress.
I AM an actress!
Yet I have no records of a single performance to date.
I'm bad at auditions.
And so you turned to what, exactly?
Dancing? Stripping?
No! I mean, I CAN dance, but...
Look closely, ladies and gentlemen, and you will get your answer.
She may say that she is pure,
but her painted face and skimpy garb tell a different story,
as the trappings of her real trade -
a lady of the night.
A who-re.
I am not a who-re!
No further questions, m'lud.
Order! Order!
Mr Gallo.
Yeah.
Er...
Firstly, she's not a prostitute, Your Honour.
Cynthia Cogidubna is nice, although she can be,
as this incident proves, a bit of a ditz.
~ Piss off. I'm not a ditz. ~ Yeah, don't heckle.
~ Don't call me a ditz. ~ I'm sorry, you're not.
Cynthia is a credit to Rome.
She's fun and friendly
and beautiful inside and out.
I can't take the testimony of her lawyer, Mr Gallo.
Character testimony can only be provided by an impartial Roman citizen.
OK, so...
Stylax.
I call Stylax Eurysaces, please.
~ Is this man here? ~ Yo! Here.
And are you prepared to take to the stand?
~ Would I need to stand? ~ Yes.
No, then. Sorry.
You two are a joke.
Oh, go fuck yourself, dickface.
Right, yeah, really clever, Gallo.
This man has no legal training, Your Honour.
He is a mere copier,
who was recently fined for urinating in public.
That wasn't me. That was my slave.
The same slave who stole the phallus from my antique statue, I presume?
Yeah, well, this man pooed himself when he was ten, Your Honour.
That is neither true nor pertinent, Your Honour.
It's true, all right. This man did a big pertinent poo in his pants,
right out of his flabby anus,
even though he's calling himself Fab now
and he shags fit girls in his massive flat,
the knob, he's still just Fabianus with the flabby anus,
and things slip out of his bum cos it's so baggy and flabby.
~ Are you finished? ~ No.
# Flabby Anus, Flabby Anus
# You've got a flabby, flabby, flabby anus
# Your bum hole smells heinous
♪ You've got a flabby, flabby, flabby anus ♪
No further questions, Your Honour.
What sentence are you proposing for the Briton and her slave?
~ Deportation, Your Honour. ~ Done. They leave Rome in ten days.
Guards, search his premises for the missing phallus.
Case dismissed.
Did that just happen?
Oh, no, no, come back!
Don't leave me now! Come back!
Shit!
OK, Stylax, I'm ready. Put it in.
~ Working on it. ~ I want it in me, Stylax.
Just put it... Oh!
~ Oh, Stylax! ~ Yeah, mm?
~ You're so hard. ~ Yeah, I know I am.
And...cold.
Wait, what is that?
It's not really...
Is that... Is that a stone penis?
~ Stop doing it? ~ I reckon, yeah.
I was desperate. I didn't know...
You tried to penetrate me with an inanimate object.
YOU'RE the inanimate object, mate.
You just lie there, just like you did in the ditch at school.
~ Just get the hell out! ~ Yeah, obviously.
This has honestly never happened before.
No sign of the phallus, I'm afraid,
but we did find this.
~ Salve, boys. ~ All right, Landlord?
~ Thanks for having me. ~ Thanks for coming.
~ Keep walking! ~ I'll catch you later, then.
Be lucky!
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