Seriously Fried Chicken! Seriously Fried Chicken!
50% off for fit girls! Almost as delicious as me!
- I'd like to apologise for any inconvenience... - Inconvenience?!
My son found a condom in his burger!
Would you believe me if I said it was a free toy?
I'm so sorry.
I assure you, we here at Seriously Fried Chicken value customer service
above all else, so if there's anything we can...
Would you mind keeping it down, love?
It's just I'm on a massive come-down and your voice sounds so bad.
Hey!
I was wondering where that had gone.
I demand to see your manager.
That is our manager.
Hey, Tony. Not my place to say. But maybe stop doing drugs at work.
I really need to get a new job.
Come on, Mary. You can do this.
- You are a tiger. You're a sexy business tiger. - Excuse me.
Is everything all right?
I'm sorry. It's just that I've never done this before.
I've never come face-to-face with Clive Bagshawe.
In my opinion,
the finest regional manager Seriously Fried Chicken's ever had.
Yep.
Thanks.
Mr Bagshawe will see you now.
Ah, Mary.
- Sorry to keep you waiting. - Mr Bagshawe...
Oh, bloody shit!
I'm so thrilled to finally meet you, Mr Bagshawe.
Please, call me Clive.
So, Mary, how are you finding our HR department?
Great.
Ever since my soul mate Gareth left me,
this job has pretty much been my life,
and a job won't cheat on you with your mother's carer.
So what I'm saying really is that everything is great.
So... this social interaction has been pleasant, but now to business.
What do you know about our Croydon restaurant?
Croydon? Well, it's our worst branch.
Last in profit, first in food poisoning.
They account for 90% of the complaints we receive.
Sorry.
Shouldn't raise my voice.
Just makes me incredibly angry.
I also hear the manager has a bit of a problem surrounding...
being a big old junkie.
Yes, we need to let poor Tony go.
- Without wishing to be too graphic, he shat in a bap. - Oh.
Which brings me to my point.
We need someone to manage Croydon while a replacement is found.
I would like that someone to be Mary Fawn.
- That's you, Mary. - Oh. Oh!
Oh, well, I mean... I do have excellent people skills.
And a degree in business management from a university.
Hm.
Plus, your department seemed very keen for you to go.
Oh, really?
Well, that's nice.
You'll be there for one week.
Are you up to it?
Clive, I promise you, I will turn that place around.
I swear it on the paper mache Gareth I have under my bed.
I'd like a quarter-pound Chicks-plosion.
- Excuse me. Hello. - Urgh. What is it?
Finally. Thank you.
Please can I have a quarter-pound Chicks-plosion?
Fuck it. I'm going to Nando's.
Hey, Amara. Crazy about Tony, right?
- Like, who will be manager? - Couldn't care less.
When I go home I try and forget I was ever here.
Which is hard when you permanently smell of batter.
Yeah. But maybe it's not all bad.
Like, you got your work friendships
and who knows what they can turn into.
- What's that? - Oh, it's just Dane.
- You two still an item? - Yeah.
He's at the gym. He keeps sending me Snapchats.
- Isn't he fit? - Wow!
You must be very attracted to him... sexually?
- Which is so cool. - Morning my little chicks and cocks.
Derek, you seem happy.
Oh, I am indeed.
With that druggie degenerate gone,
who's first in line for the manager's job, eh?
None other than Mr Derek Wom.
And so the assistant manager becomes the manager.
That is the saddest thing I have ever heard.
Oh, you'll regret such incidents when I'm manager.
Apparently head office have sent some corporate drone
to watch over us. That's what they're saying anyway.
I bet they're secretly here to decide
which of us should be the next manager.
- Hello, there. My name's... - Shut your damn face!
I'm Mary. Mary Fawn.
- Oh! You're Mary Fawn? - Yes, that's right. So I'll be...
Shut your damn face!
Hi. You must be Mary from head office.
Derek Wom. Assistant Manager.
For now. Sorry about Shontal.
She will have thought you were a customer.
But that's still not good.
Very nice to meet you, Derek.
Our humble establishment is blessed by your corporate know-how
and thick shiny hair.
I for one will be honoured to be your trusted guide/confidant.
In fact...
.. I'll be anything you want.
Thank you.
Great to be here. Thanks.
Can I just have a quick word, everyone?
I'm Mary Fawn and as your interim leader, well, I believe that together
we can make Seriously Fried Chicken the finest eatery in all of mouse...
Oh, my God! There's a mouse!
Oh, that's just Vinny. He keeps himself to himself.
Well, I'll just go and find my office.
See you in a bit.
So, Amara, what made you want to work at Seriously Fried Chicken?
Well, I wrecked my dad's car, so he made me get a job to pay him back.
Did everything I could to screw up the interview,
but turns out his place will hire anyone.
I'm a chicken man, born and bred.
Been working here since it were a Wimpy.
So, Ed...
How would you sum up Seriously Fried Chicken in just one word?
Bad chicken shop.
That's three, innit?
How about just like "shop"? What's the question again?
Where do you see yourself in five years' time?
- Here. - Anywhere but here.
Really like to have a girlfriend.
OK, so we open on this helicopter shot of Malibu. Zoom in.
Who's that by the pool, chilling by his mansion?
That's right. It's me.
I sometimes wonder why after all these years of service
I'm still just assistant manager.
But it's not like I've got a white-hot fire of rage
burning within me every waking moment.
I become this super cool Scarface kind of guy.
But little do I know, Vincenzo, my best friend, is setting me up!
And what would you say you've learned from your role here?
Don't eat the spicy chicken taco. We call it the arse-pocalypse.
The mansion's surrounded. Someone kicks the door in. Oh, shit!
It's the Yakuza!
But little do they know that this bad boy's got a grenade launcher.
How would you rate your job satisfaction,
with one being totally unsatisfied and five being very satisfied?
I'll put you down as very satisfied, OK?
Vincenzooooooo!
So ideally that's me in, like, five years.
No wonder this branch is having problems.
The staff are all totally dysfunctional.
Improving customer service will take all my managerial skill.
I have faith in you, boss. You are as wise as you are sultry.
Oh, lordy loo, this back of yours is tense.
More knots than you'd find in a hardcore bondage club. I imagine...
Amara's so amazing. The way she texts. The way she wrinkles her nose.
The way she says "Stop staring at me, you fucking weirdo".
I remember the first time she said that to me.
It was our first day in sixth form, and I was staring at her,
and she says, "Stop staring at me, you fucking weirdo".
I know. You've told me that 15 times.
Joe, speaking as your best friend...
Well, we've only known each other for like, two weeks.
I'm going to let that go cos we're best friends.
You should stop whining like a little bitch and do something.
Seal the deal if you get me. Hm?
Sex, yeah? It's what I'm doing with my fingers. It's what it means.
I got that.
And believe me, that's what I want.
That's what I've wanted since school.
She's the only reason I work here.
- But she's got a boyfriend. - True that.
And he's a total knockout.
Piercing eyes, rock hard abs, enigmatic smile that says,
"Come, get to know me.
"Yeah. Just over here. You.
"Not you. You."
That's not helping.
Point is, if you're going to win over a guy like that,
you've got to play dirty. Any means necessary.
Trust me man, I love the ladies.
You should see me when I'm handing these out. Total masterclass.
What, in a sexually inappropriate behaviour?
It's just bants! Having some fun.
Show me a lady who doesn't like to be told she's got nice big tits
and I'll show you a nice big-titted liar, my friend.
- Just flirting. - How do you flirt dressed like that?
This costume's the shit.
Creates a mental association, yeah.
Girls look at me and they think, massive cock.
Yeah. That's true.
Damn right.
- Did you see that BBC 2 documentary on marine wildlife? - Fuckin' hell!
Sorry, I just think fish are interesting.
- Dane sent me a dick pic! - Bastard!
No! I mean the text says, "Check this out, Ashleigh!" Look!
Oi! Who the hell is Ashleigh?
Well, that was predictably huge.
Poor Amara. I can't believe Dane's cheating on her.
Mate, don't you see?
This is the perfect time for you to make your move.
Her relationship's dead. Time for you to swoop in like a sex vulture.
I don't know. She seemed really upset.
Mate, that emotion shit makes women feels mega horny!
One minute you're their shoulder to cry on,
the next minute you're their dick to sit on.
By any means necessary!
Hey there. How you holding up, slugger?
I mean, I imagine not well, given what literally just happened.
Me and Dane broke up.
Why would he do something like this to me? Am I not enough for him?
- Is it because I smell of batter the whole time? - Dane's an idiot.
Any guy would be lucky to spend their life sending dick pics to you.
Thanks, mate.
I can't believe he'd abuse my trust like this.
Yeah, men are awful.
So, my attempt to improve customer service over the last few days
has not been a complete, erm, success.
In fact, we've received a record number of complaints.
So, I have designed an employee reward system.
Something I learned back in HR.
I call it Mary's Eggs.
Not the eggs that remain unfertilised now that Gareth's gone!
Erm...
No, these eggs are handed out based on, erm, customer care.
So, when you are helpful and polite, I egg you on.
Ah, but if you receive a complaint then it's egg on...
.. you.
- Erm, yes. - I'm allergic to eggs, innit.
No, they're not real eggs, they're figurative eggs.
Why would I want figurative eggs?
Because the employee with the most eggs at the end of the week
gets the Golden Egg.
- Is that like an egg made of gold? - No. It's a metaphor.
Then why do I give a shit?
Questioning the egg system only loses you more eggs.
Yet another stroke of managerial genius, boss.
- Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit? - Au contraire, young Joseph.
I've got that demented fuckwit eating out of the palm of my hand.
All right, bruv? How goes Project Dick Shoulder?
It's been amazing. We're hanging out, hugging loads.
It would be really romantic if she wasn't crying most of the time.
- But I think I'm nearly ready to make my move. - Yeah, man!
The sex vulture takes flight! So proud of you, bro.
How you doing?
I'm fine. Thanks.
- You must be bored of listening to me talk about the break-up. - Not at all.
You've been incredible these last few days.
I just want you to be able to move on.
Find someone new, maybe someone who's been there the whole time.
Someone who works really close to you?
- Maybe someone called Joe? - But it's hard, you know?
- I Keep seeing things that remind me of Dane. - Like what? - Really fit guys.
- Right. - Might even forgive him if he apologises.
It's, like, 2015. Don't all guys send random girls dick pics?
Maybe I'm old-fashioned,
but I've never taken a photograph of my own penis. Or anyone else's.
It's not a homophobic thing,
I'm totally up for guys taking pics of other guys' dicks.
- It's just not something... - Amara, your break ended ten minutes ago.
Don't make me give you a splattered egg.
I thought you only got a splattered egg if a customer complained?
If you're going to make up a meaningless incentive system
based on eggs, at least make it consistent.
Right, that's a splattered egg and a rotten yolk for insubordination.
- What are you talking about? - You heard me.
- That's not true. - Yes, it is.
Why not try our chicken fillet? Or you could get me to fill it! He-he!
Well, I'm screwed. Dane just texted Amara asking for a second chance.
Wow! This shit is el-o-quent!
"Our love shall last until the stars turn cold."
- Whoo! - Yeah, pretty poetic for someone who sends dick pics.
This is a disaster. I've missed my chance.
Mate, how many times do I got to keep on telling you --
by any means necessary!
- What are you suggesting? - Delete the text.
Text Dane and tell him
if he ever texts her again she's going to cut off his chode-dick.
I can't do that, that's like a total violation of her privacy and trust.
All right then, you'd best get used to the idea of Mr Muscles
giving a girl you love multiple orgasms.
How do you spell chode?
My week's almost over and we're getting more complaints than ever.
Oh, I'm sorry, pet. Fancy a foot rub?
Erm, no, not right now.
What am I supposed to tell Clive Bagshaw?
All I wanted to do was impress him
and maybe even one day be his right-hand woman.
You've got to stay strong, keep fighting.
There have been dark days for Derek, make no mistake.
I got very low the time
my application to manage this shop was rejected.
And the 20 subsequent times.
But who knows what's round the corner?
Yes. Yes, you're right.
Mary Fawn doesn't just give up.
I just need to do something bold and decisive,
like the time I padlocked myself to Gareth's car.
Yes, it turned out to be the wrong Ford Mondeo,
but it still made one hell of a statement.
- That's the spirit. - Thank you, Derek.
You've been a wonderful confidant and, dare I say it, friend.
And the next time I speak to Clive, I'll be sure to recommend
a certain someone for manager.
What are you doing tomorrow night?
Mum's making pork and then we're going to watch Strictly.
Or something less pathetic.
Oh, no worries. I could just use someone to talk to.
Yeah. Yeah, of course.
Mum's pork is pretty inedible anyway.
But listen, there's something you should know.
Derek wants to see you in the kitchen.
Something about important shit.
What are you doing? You were going to tell her about the text!
- I feel so bad. She needs to know. - She's talking about dinner.
That was your moment, son!
You start out sharing some dough balls
and the next thing you know, she's munching on your actual balls.
Why did I delete that text?
I should never have taken advice from an idiot dressed as a chicken.
Now I say it out loud, it seems obvious.
Derek wasn't there. Why did you say he was?
Damn, you ask a lot of questions, woman.
Good news, everyone.
I know it's nearly home time
but I've decided to keep you all behind for a team-building exercise.
It's one in the damn morning.
You can't just pretend something's good news
by saying it in a happy voice.
Oh, well, I think it's going to be a lot of fun.
♪ And we can build this thing together
♪ Standing strong forever
♪ Nothing's going to stop us now
♪ And if this world runs out of lovers
♪ We'll still have each other
♪ Nothing's going to stop us... ♪
OK, people, we all... fired up?
Now, when I was doing Business Studies at a university,
we learnt that the way to improving customer service is...
It's communication. OK?
And this team needs to learn how to communicate.
So, allow me to present the Ball of Truth.
Eh?
Now, whoever's holding this baby needs to reveal something
about themselves to the rest of the group that the others might not know.
OK, so I'll... I'll start.
Um, about five months ago, I was abandoned by my life partner,
Gareth, and, I'll confess, I'm not completely over it.
But we all know that already. Pretty much all you talk about.
Well, I be you didn't know that after he left
I still wore his underpants and cried myself to sleep for a month.
And now you do.
So, there's that.
Anyway, let's open things up a bit, shall we? Whoop.
OK, Shontal, why don't you tell us something that we didn't know?
I'm thinking of killing someone right now.
No, that's not really in the spirit. Oh, dear...
OK, if you go next.
I reckon Joe should be more grateful for my erotic advice.
Er, right, no, it's not really that sort of thing.
I think Ed should stop pretending
he's an expert just cos he's seen American Pie.
At least I've seen a pair of titties in real life.
- You're lame, man. - Your mum's don't count.
Can we just make sure that the facts are about...
At least I don't sexually harass women
when I'm supposed to be flyering.
At least I don't go through Amara's phone
and delete texts from her boyfriend just so I can get with her.
What?
I mean... not that.
- Amara, I... - You hacked my phone?!
- You little shit. - I..
I mean, it wasn't really hacking.
You should probably have a passcode.
Right, please, this is not positive communication.
Joseph, Joseph, Joseph, such are the wages of deceit.
What? You mean like telling Mary she's God's gift to managers
when you think -- what did you say? -- she's a demented fuckwit.
Derek, is that true? I thought you were my confidant.
God, you know, all I wanted was just one day without complaints. Yeah?
Just one day to make Clive Bagshawe proud of me. But no. I failed.
Well, no wonder Gareth left me
because everything I touch turns to shit!
Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to...
Good news, everyone, you can all go home.
Nice work.
♪ We can build this thing together
♪ Standing strong for ever
♪ Nothing's going to stop us now... ♪
Seriously Fried Chicken?
I respect your right to say no.
Seriously Fried Chicken?
- Have a great day. - What's going on?
Why don't you have a look for yourself?
Welcome to Seriously Fried Chicken.
Good afternoon, sir, Quarter-pound Chicks-plosion, right?
Than you so much for your custom.
Have a splendid day.
It's a miracle.
- But... How? - You're just an inspirational manager.
We were inspired to give it 110%. In terms of customer service.
Yes, and your promise to cover all late shifts for the next year.
Sorry, what was that Shontal?
Oh, I said have a splendid day.
Look, Mary, I'm sorry for my behaviour.
The prospect of high chicken office can do strange things to a man.
I understand. Derek, I do. We both love Seriously Fried Chicken.
You know, deep down, you and I, we're the same,
we're like two little conjoined nuggets.
You do deserve to be the new manager.
After I've seen Clive tomorrow, well,
there might be some good news coming your way.
Oh, sweet Mary! I could kiss you.
- And I will. - Really?
No, no, you don't have to.
But, but, honestly, everyone, I am beyond proud.
You know, today, every single one of you has earned the Golden Egg.
It's still not a thing.
- Oi, creep. - Yeah?
It's kind of sweet, what you've done for Mary.
- Maybe not quite as much of a prick as I thought. - Thanks.
- Look, I'm sorry for being so weird. - That's OK.
- But if you wanted to ask me out you should have just asked me out. - Oh.
- Well... Do you want to go out with me? - No. - Right.
- You're a nice guy, Joe, but you're not my type. - What is your type?
- Someone who's brave enough to be honest about their feelings. - Oh.
- And black guys. - Fair enough.
So, to summarise, yesterday, for the first time in its history,
the Croydon branch received zero customer complaints.
Also, our onion rings were described by one punter as, "Mm, not bad."
Mary, I'm overjoyed to hear that. Look at me.
I'm beaming like a schoolgirl.
What can I say? It's been an amazing experience.
I've learned so much I'll be able use back here at head office.
Maybe even as your right-hand woman?
- Hm. About that. - Oh, is that a yes?
I can't believe this is actually happening.
We think it best you stay on in Croydon as permanent manager.
What?
Why?
Well, it's become apparent that the HR department
runs quite a lot better without you.
And you've clearly flourished on the shop floor,
getting your hands... greasy, so to speak.
Please, Clive, you can't send me back there.
Head office is where I belong, sitting on your right hand.
It's important to remember this is not a demotion.
It's just a lower ranking job for which you'll be paid less.
This has been a difficult conversation to have.
You should probably leave before I get any more emotional.
Hey, man. Sorry I called you a chicken idiot.
- Eh? I forgive you. - Yeah?
Obviously. We're best friends! Sorry things didn't work out with Amara.
I don't know. I'm still holding out hope.
This could be a story we tell our grandkids.
Probs leave out the stuff about dick pics though, huh?
Listen up you lot, now that I am manager apparent,
there's going to be a sharp increase in discipline.
Hot, sweaty discipline.
And thus it begins. The age of Derek.
Mary? What the hell are you doing here?
Really great news, everyone.
I've decided to turn down my promotion at head office
and I've come back to Croydon.
That's right, I'm going to be your new manager.
Oh, God!
Everything's gone blurry!
Yep, I think this is going to be a very exciting development.
Let me die now.
Whoa, who's that talking to Amara?
Holy shit, that guy's an Adonis. He's even fitter than Dane!
Hey, mate, bloke over there just asked me
if I want to go for a ride on his motorbike, which, obviously, yes.
- You cool covering my late shift, right? - Well...
Great, see you tomorrow!
I really need to get a new job.