Er, can I have a 99, please?
Course, you can, sonny. What the bloody hell are you doing?
I'm being ice-cream man like I always am.
What is this? What's with the...
She cannot see me speaking to you. She must not suspect.
Who? George! Who do you think?
I hear you reeled her in with your calming penis.
It might have been her that did the reeling.
Can't say I'm proud of it.
My technique's certainly been streamlined and rationalised.
Sprinkles? No, thanks.
Is she on-side? Don't know.
Is she biddable, does she love you? Wouldn't think so. It was just sex.
Go and have more sex, the sort of sex that makes women change their minds.
There you go, sonny! Thank you.
Ciao! Ciao, ciao, ciao.
Jesus!
Lovely of you to say so, but it is I, Jonty De Wolfe.
Have you cried till you threw up?
Had your heart broken by your mother's best friend?
No, I thought not.
You have very nice ankles.
Flirt!
Let's do the sex. Shall we do it now?
Well, the thing is, Imogen, I'm in the middle of a qualifying race.
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Maybe we should just ease off a little...
Would it help if I said I was gay?
What do you do with your gay best friend?
Feel her tits?
Arriving, about... Yeah! OK, yeah.
I have decided I do want to wear a papier-mache bra.
Excuse me.
People like you give single women a bad name.
If I see you on campus, I'm going to rabbit-punch you in the vagina.
Not so easy shaking off an Olympic-class runner.
It's more appropriate if we're not seen coming in together.
Ow! Agh!
What is it?
That really hurt.
Where? That you could just sleep with me
Good. You're a good one. Well, hooray for you.
It doesn't change the fact it was sort of a mistake.
What, a mistake we made three times? I'm a senior lecturer, you're a student.
Postgrad. We have to keep this extremely discreet.
You are 22 and I'm 32.
So? It doesn't bother me that you're so much older.
Well, it bothers me. It's very kind of you, but I was in a funny mood and...
Oops! Meet me for lunch.
No. Dinner?
Come to mine tonight. No!
Come on! I can be incredibly discreet.
I'll tell my flatmates not to look at your face.
Get off my bike!
That's my girlfriend.
Wait! I am really, really fast at running!
So, how are you... feeling today? Bit more mellow?
Bit more "one of the gang"? I'll tell you how I'm feeling.
I'm feeling that if my figures don't add up, you could face closure.
If your figures don't add up, you should buy a calculator.
Just not attractive enough.
I meant the university, but it applies to you equally.
I'm sensing less mellow than before. And here's the bad news.
Next year's funding will be halved for universities
who fall below the world's top 300. Since you're not one of
the world's elite universities who can fall back on research...
Sorry, when you say that we're not one of the world's elite...
In order, Harvard, Cambridge, Yale, University College London...
Still might pip Oxford. Oxford.
And Kirke is...
394.
Just below Nagasaki University.
Come on! They're just getting the sympathy vote.
We're below the American University of Beirut.
How many extra points are they getting for showing off about their location?
Sorry, but if I transported Kirke to the Helmand province tomorrow,
we would be in the top 20.
Fact. University of Rio de Janeiro. Just a beach with bikinis.
Oh, I wonder how they're doing so well
Maybe they have a vice chancellor who spends his time
managing the university rather than his hair.
Hmm. Stockholm School of Economics. Clearly a school, not a university.
University of Hawaii. Again, just a beach.
Do you teach denial? Because you are the world's leading authority on that.
Not true.
We is gonna shoot up dat list faster than you can say,
"Sorry, Jonty, that I called you unattractive."
OK, sure.
Get some traditions.
Find some class, discover something. Be newsworthy.
Just get into the top 300.
Otherwise, Mr Integrity, you'll be history faster than you can say,
"You were right all along, lovely Miss Bryan."
'Last night was just wrong.'
Thank you, by the way. Oh, don't thank me.
'Last night was just kind of bizarre.
'Here she is. Normal, everyday speech.'
Ms Moffat.
Professor Beer.
Do anything special last night? No. What about you?
Nothing special. Well, see you.
Yup, see you.
'Might have got away with it. She doesn't seem to think too badly of me.'
'I didn't realise I could hate someone this much.
'The big, deceiving moose-bonker.'
Hi, welcome. In this section, I'll walk you through using a database.
But since the folk at YouTube don't allow videos longer than ten minutes,
I'll split this into several parts.
About six.
So, let's roll up our sleeves and ask, "What is a database query?"
Tea? Well, it's...
Jesus, Grace, it's just that I'm... What?
Nothing. Um, where's Nicole this morning?
She's not here.
Thanks. Thanks, that's... that's cleared that up. Thanks, Grace.
If you see her, could you say I'm very busy doing my video blog?
Hi.
NHS Direct?
Should I be worried about a snoring Mary?
My Mary snores.
No, I mean my vagina's started snoring.
Yes, it only happens at night.
Yes, I'll hold for a nurse.
'Putting you on hold now.'
Hi. Welcome.
The snazzy jumper is a gift from my fiancee, by the way.
"What does that have to do with accountancy?" I hear you ask.
"Nothing," I hear myself say. And I'd be right.
No, that's rubbish.
I now declare this laboratory... open!
It's been open eight years.
Congratulations, Lydia, my lithe, long-legged, lollipopping lovely.
Now, I have got a little job for you.
I need you to assemble a brand-new university prospectus.
Why?
Because I sacked the yapping PR lady
who's now suing us for constructive dismissal
to the tune of 300 grand, which is, in my opinion, money well spent.
No, I meant, why me?
Because, as from today, Kirke has to be perceived as an elite university,
which means considerable exaggeration and, in some cases, lying.
And you are the best we have. Oh, you're very kind.
Canadian, the unstoppable breast machine,
seems to think that Kirke's public face isn't sexy enough, unsurprisingly.
It doesn't accord with her whorish tastes.
She wants to give good old Kirke a tit job,
stick it in some killer heels and pour it into a pair of hot pants so high
you could use it as a bib.
That may interest me. Good!
I thought you could pap the staff using this.
I'll get started right away.
'Hello, are you the lady with the snoring vagina?'
If you call again, I'm going to contact the police.
It only happens at night.
So I've got this... friend. She's been out with this boy, well, man.
Is this friend really you? No, no, it's no-one, really.
Well, she saw this person, this younger man,
and she just went rather risky and totally out of character.
She stabbed him?
No, no, no. She jumped on him, started kissing him.
Only, he liked it, and then they went back to hers and...
Does she like him?
He's really nice, he's got a great body and he's funny.
Is it Gloria? What?
I knew it, it's Gloria.
No, it's not her.
Yes. Yes, it's Gloria. And David.
What? She must be about, what - 60?
And he's like 20, or something.
Wow! Yeah, I mean...
Don't tell anyone, because Gloria would not like it.
OK. Gloria! I bet she's getting a right good cocking.
Yes, she is.
Surprised to see you working so fervently.
I'm always fervent in every aspect of my life. You should know that by now.
Just thought you might be a bit "head in the clouds" after our little...
Don't flatter yourself.
It was adequate for a guy your age,
but it takes a lot more than a bit of angry "wham-bam, thank you, Mam"
to throw me off course.
"A-Adequate?" "Wham-bam, thank you, Mam?"
It was a little bit more well-honed than that.
Whatever it was, it's done with. We fucked.
My world keeps turning. I suspect you'll need a couple of days' rest.
What are all these? The books no-one ever takes out.
They must be eliminated. Five minutes' restroom break.
By the way, you look like a horse when you come.
What?
Your face resembles that of a horse yawning when you come.
Horse? Yawning?
New jumper?
Er, yes. Yes, it is. Glad you mentioned that, actually. Like it?
It's a bit...
Yeah, it is a bit, isn't it?
Yeah.
My first impression was it was slightly ridiculous,
but having worn it for a couple of hours...
that's my current impression too.
Yeah.
It's an engagement present from Cecelia.
And she buys the clothes, so, um...
which, you know, can be a little bit...
I suppose it's nice that someone buys one's knitwear for one.
It would be nice to have a bit of independence
but, er...can't have it all, can you?
Happiness, strange old beast, isn't she, Grace?
No idea.
Hello.
You all right?
None of me's right, let alone all.
Thought something was up.
It's not me, I'm down.
Hm, thought so.
Perspicacious as ever.
Oh, sorry, I've just been on the treadmills.
Jesus! It means "shrewd"! It means "perceptive"!
You study English, for fuck's sake, you stupid boy.
Sorry.
Shall I cheer you up?
Oh, interesting. How are you...? Right, balls in my face. Thank you.
What got you down in the first place?
Just got this aching, hollow feeling.
Sounds like love.
If you're just gonna be facetious, you can fuck off.
OK, I'm gonna tell you a little story.
How lovely.
A sort of alimony.
Allegory.
It's about never giving up.
Great, yeah.
Once upon a time, there was a simple young miller's son.
Is that you?
Ssh. Listen.
Is that you? Ssh. Listen. Hm-mm.
The miller's son fell in love with a princess, a beautiful older princess...
About ten years older? Good at maths?
Yeah, might be a princess like that.
Anyway, he got depressed because he thought he didn't stand a chance,
that she would never go for someone as simple and young as him.
But he was wrong.
Because they ended up doing it... last night.
Doing it?
Yes, indeed.
O-ah!
Boom!
Um, don't ever work for the Samaritans. OK?
Oh!
Are you actually looking for something?
No, no, no. No, no, no.
So, um, Nicole's still not around.
She's off with that Imogen Moffat again.
What, the lecturer? The author?
She's keeping quiet about it.
Oh, is she?
And, er, where might they be?
Don't know.
Probably in her office.
Probably could have guessed that, couldn't I?
Probably.
Do you know what?
Do you know bloody what, Jason?
It's not too bad, is it?
Hello, is this the new professor of English?
No, this is Henry.
Hello, Henry. Are you a failure as well?
No, Henry is a very important little dog for this university.
Kirke needs publicity, needs to be put on the map,
and Professor Whale in veterinary sciences tells me
he can sometimes make a noise that sounds like "hello".
Professor Whale can?
No, the dog can. Henry can.
Say "hello", Henry.
Say "hello" to Professor Beer.
Bloody dog.
I've failed as well.
The Canadian has been up in the library burning books.
That's not the worst idea in the world.
Sorry. It didn't work. I must have lost my touch.
That is why I hate and despise you.
So do I.
But it is always darkest before the dawn.
We are going to hit that she-moose between the eyes.
With this. A new initiative.
I've e-mailed the heads of all departments.
We are gonna show her that we can pimp this muvver big-stylie.
Oh, and, er...
Good boy!
"Please submit details of any interesting scientific or historical assets
"your department may have in its collection."
Well, it'll have me. I'm a relic. Fossilised seducer.
Must be love.
Oh, you're some kind of expert, are you?
Oi, where you going?
Men!
So, can I take the exam yet?
Nicole, we've had four lessons!
Should I have done it already?
No, you don't take GCSE maths after just four lessons.
Um, can I do the exam at home?
No, you'll be in an exam room.
Can I have the telly on?
No.
Just in the background. Helps me to concentrate.
You must have taken other exams. Have you ever taken a telly in?
No, I was a kid then. I thought it might be different for grown-ups.
The exam board might think it was a distraction
and a potential form of cheating.
Cheating? It would just be Diagnosis Murder or something.
Suppose they don't even let you take alcohol in either.
You're joking!
This is so hard.
How am I supposed to work for three hours without the telly or a drink?
Well, you're here from nine to five every day without telly or a drink.
Yeah, I'm not really working, am I?
OK. Next. Er...
Here, I'll name it in three. Come on.
"In faith I..."
"..do not love thee with mine eyes For they in thee a thousand sorrows note."
Too easy, boy. 144. Come on, next, next.
OK.
"OK"? I don't think any of Shakespeare's sonnets
start with "OK". Who are you again?
Rachel.
All right, Rachel. I will name your sonnet in one.
Yes, I will.
Come on.
"Love."
OK. Give me your hand. Come a bit closer, I need to see your eyes.
"Love...
is my sin and thy dear virtue hate."
"Hate of my sin grounded on sinful loving."
"O, but with mine compare thou thine own state
and thou shalt find it merits not reproving."
No, it was the other love one.
Yeah, you're lying. I like that.
OK, you can go. Fuck off.
See you some time.
I need some help with my assignment.
No, you don't. You've probably already finished it.
Go on, you'd better run along.
Maybe you're in love.
Oh, don't you start!
I want to make it clear, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't speak to you.
Under normal circumstance, I wouldn't be listening.
I'm in charge of producing the new university prospectus.
Sorry, my mistake. Normal circumstances. I am not listening.
I need you to write something about your department.
Give it here.
"If you want to get laid, do English."
"If you want your genitals to wither away, do science."
You can't put that.
I can put whatever I want. Don't steal anything.
Oh, he's just drawn a penis!
Hey! There you are. Long time, no chat, oh gay stranger.
Hello, my heterosexual, engaged accountant.
Freshly brewed tea?
Thank you, my gallant elf lord.
So... where were you earlier on?
Oh, I just had to go out.
Oh, OK. Out with, um, someone, or...?
No, um, just to get my hair dyed.
But, er... your hair's exactly the same.
Very subtle difference. Only lesbians can pick up on it.
Er... it's how we communicate, like smoke signals.
So... what's this one saying?
Just free and easy.
Bit slutty, isn't it?
Easy, as in relaxed.
You OK?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, good. Totally chilled.
So, er, have you got your eye on any lady in particular?
No. No. I've got more important things to do,
like picking the netball team.
Netball!
What's wrong with netball?
Well, it's a bit "solid girl", don't we think?
Seven women with firm, glistening thighs in twinkle-skimming skirts
bouncing around, getting hot and sweaty?
It's a lesbian's wet dream.
OK! Tell me more.
S'laters.
Big gay kiss.
Big, straight, in-love-with-my-fiancee kiss.
Hey, Grace. Just working on a new... This new osteopath.
You gotta... It's a cranial workout.
Just, er... essentially, it's just head-butting a desk
but... um... I find it helps.
Give it a go.
And then... Yeah. Ow, ow.
Do you know...
what the biology department have given me?
No. Perhaps more significantly, don't care.
Do you know what the biology department thinks will get us in the news?
No.
A porky tortoise.
A porky...
Tortoise that's porky.
You don't really get... Oh, actually, that is quite porky.
Looks likes Chris Moyles in a shell.
Not exactly going to get a film crew down here, is it?
Not exactly going to be auctioned off for a million quid.
Could say it used to belong to someone famous
or historical, like Darwin.
Charles Darwin's porky tortoise. Has a definite ring about it.
Though, sadly, I have had Tubbs carbon-dated, and he's, like, a teenager.
Shame.
Yeah, if he was a bloke, you couldn't legally bum him in Japan.
Could you let me get on? I've got some moping to do.
What's that?
My skateboard.
No, that.
17th-century watch. Belongs to the English department.
Very nice.
Be even nicer if we found that had some sort of historical link.
No, sorry, I don't think it has.
Milton's scrotum!
Pardon?
Milton's scrotum!
What's that, Professor Beer? Milton's scrotum?
I didn't say anything.
Did you see my lips move? There's no-one else in the room,
so it must have been you claiming that this watch pouch
was actually made from the old poet John Milton's ball bag.
As far as I'm aware, 17th-century poets
weren't in the habit of being skinned and made into watch covers.
Milton's scrotum!
No-one's gonna believe you.
Do you honestly think our Canadian friend
knows what an old poet's scrotum looks like?
After last night, yes, I do.
Source material, please.
Literary references and sketches from the pouch-maker.
Oh, look at your little chunky legs.
I'll have to do a Google on tortoise recipes. Dum-dum-dum-dum.
I know nine different ways to cook pasta.
Look, I've told you, I can't. Let's just rewind a bit.
Well, how far?
Er... six months.
I didn't know you six months ago.
Yes, that's right.
Oh, is this...
Is this one of those...? You just wanna relive the thrill
of us first getting together like a role-play thing?
No, it's more like, let's never do it again.
What, ever? That was two words, by the way.
I wouldn't want you to think I'd gone, "Whatevers!"
I'm sorry.
Yeah, you will be!
What?
Sorry. I don't know... I don't quite know why I just said that.
Just... just ignore me.
No!
This is not a grown-up reaction!
OK, I can do grown-up. I can do grown-up.
Upon reflection, Imogen, the truth is I like you...
I like you very much. It's not just a childish infatuation.
I actually think I'd be very good for you.
You know, if you don't want me, then what else can I do?
Apart from killing myself.
You were doing so well.
I love you.
Well, that really is childish.
I will get older, you know.
I predict now that our age gap will remain the same.
We... You know...
You know I can't compete when you bring maths into this.
All right, people, I need ideas. I need to put Kirke University on the map.
Ideas, please. Accounts spaz.
You in the hair. Paint it blue.
Mm-hm. Make it visible from space.
Visible from space. How will I do that?
I don't know. I'm just the ideas man. You're the facilitator.
OK...
Grace, get me somebody from Space Research Technologies, please.
And a painter and decorator.
Sorry, Binky, I'm not really sure why I've come here.
As you know, I'm not really a fan of psychology.
That's fine. I'm not really a fan of English.
Do it in Russian, if you like. Heh.
Right, you know the drill.
Just to help unlock what's going on in your inner life at the moment.
Just say what you see, OK?
Meadow, butterfly, kingfisher.
No, that's a vagina.
Pond, um... ducks,
cherry blossom falling in the water.
That's a vagina.
Broken heart.
Vagina.
Catherine wheel.
Vagina.
They're all the same, according to you.
Not according to me. These are the answers you gave six months ago.
Exactly the same cards.
Well.
Vagina?
Spider.
Ah! Then you changed your mind to, and I quote,
"A massive unwaxed 1970s bush."
Quite a seismic change there.
Not in love, are you?
Can I quickly just get a picture?
Are you at the university? You're not wearing pants, are you?
Stop! Oh, your hair looks horrible.
Look like you want to go to bed with me.
I wouldn't ever go to bed with you.
Why do you look so awful? What is it? Pout.
You're too old. It wouldn't look like you're at the university.
I'm not going to use that one either. You look...
Oh, God! No, OK, thank you.
I know.
Sorry?
I know the stuff.
Sorry, do I know you?
Jason, Accounts. You and Nicole, I know your secret.
Oh, right! Oh, that. Keep it under your hat. Ssh.
And you think she's doing the right thing?
I think it's really exciting for her. She's doing really well... in some areas.
It's her first time, so...
And for you?
I've been doing it for years.
But it's weird, I still get a big thrill from the simplest of things.
This goes wrong, it'll break her heart.
She can always try again.
Callous.
Sorry?
You stay away from her. If you know what's good for you.
You're being a bit...
She's not a plaything, Dr Moffat.
I know people who could shrink you.
Just saying.
Oh, dear.
I need pictures of an old scrotum.
I know you're in a weird place right now,
but I don't think gay porn is the answer.
I need to authenticate a scrotal artefact for the VC.
Oh, right. I thought it was a bit out of character.
As is this. I didn't realise you could write.
Imogen doesn't want us to go any further.
You do realise I'm a man and don't give a shit?
Yes, but... I want her to take me seriously.
Just stick to the golden rule - don't tell her that you love her.
You've told her... You've told her that you love her. Right. Open.
Sorry, but look, I've got to do something.
So I'm trying to write down all the things I like about her.
Oh, let me guess. She's silly, but warm.
She's brilliant, but doesn't make you feel stupid.
You wish you were a pavement because she looks down so much.
You realise that the highlight of your day is hearing that horsey laugh,
that gentle snort.
If only you'd looked at her properly before,
you wouldn't have wasted all this time.
Um...
Actually, so far I've got "huge knees" and "nice... chin".
You sure you're not in love with her?
I'm Professor Matthew Beer.
I know, yes.
Talking about Imogen Moffat.
Last person on Earth. So not your type.
And of course, she hates you, so...
She just about puts up with me sometimes.
Oh, God, what am I going to do? This is...
Listen to the advice of a wiser man.
OK. Where is he?
He's sitting right here.
It's me. It's me.
Oh, OK, cool. So you're going to help me.
Can't help myself, may as well help you.
Sweet. OK, so...
If you were in love with her, what would you do?
I'd say, "Don't touch a shit like me with a bargepole."
Well, no, that's not going to work.
Caffeine.
Miss Moffat, can I have a quick word?
Oh, hello. Absolutely. Now?
You'd do me a huge favour.
OK.
I don't know if you've heard yet,
but due to the interference of evil Miss Beaverhead,
Kirke University needs to really raise its profile.
It needs to... ..how you say, browden its horizons.
Broaden our horizons, I see that.
Yes.
Now, Senior Lecturer Moffat,
I give you...
Prestige, by Jonty de Wolfe.
Is this real?
Well, it's not at market stage yet, but we're very happy with it.
It's Kirke University's first perfume.
You're starting with rose-water.
You're journeying through into almond with a hint of veggie sausage,
and then that quince just washes right through you.
Wow! What inspired use of tutor fees! It's real recession thinking.
C'est tres Kirke, n'est-ce pas?
Very.
Thank you, Grace.
Glass of Burgundy?
No, thank you.
So why am I here? You don't want me to make up my own scent?
No. That would be ridiculous.
We had an idea, we got lucky.
Equally as important is your new bestseller.
Ah, yes.
What I mean is that if I can knock out - I mean cultivate...
an eau de parfum in a matter of absolutely no time at all,
then you should be able to knock out a new maths-buster
in what, three months?
What I've read so far is very promising.
How do you know about it?
The proofs were leaked on the internet.
You're joking.
Yes, of course I am.
You forget that as vice-chancellor I have complete access
to all the staff's hard drives.
That's completely illegal.
Is it?
Anyway, your work has a beautiful flow.
Oh, thank you very much.
I am grooming you for great things.
The Sunday Times quiz page, Radio 4 panel shows, the lot.
You're grooming me?
Oh, yeah.
Now, I don't suppose you'd consider
the tiniest tweak of cosmetic surgery?
Or perhaps a helper bra? I find them surprisingly comfy.
Fine.
♪ You'll smell like Jonty Presteeege. ♪
Trust me, I've been inside more women than I have newsagents.
Think surf and turf.
Is that a sexual thing?
Er... no, no, women are the sea, the surf.
Their minds are always shifting,
their bodies, like the tide, are ruled by the pull of the moon.
Women have...
What, big nipples?
Some of them, yeah. I was thinking more, you know, hidden depths
where dark and dangerous things lurk, but in their shallows, you'll be safe.
I'll just keep it shallow, then.
I never go in deeper than my knees, but if you want more,
you have to be prepared to venture out of your depth,
where in all likelihood you will get sucked down by a vicious undercurrent
and swept out into the endless black ocean of the female psyche
where, sadly, you will drown.
Fuck.
Yeah.
So what's the turf bit, then?
Men. Thick, solid sods of earth that get under your nails.
What you see is what you get.
How does this help me with Imogen?
You have been paddling too long, my intellectually challenged friend.
You need to put on your water wings and explore her hidden depths.
So I need to do some deep stuff with her.
Hm-mm.
Sometimes in the arts, we refer to "deep stuff" as poetry.
Oh, so I need to write her a poem?
Sadly, we just don't have 25 years.
I suggest you plagiarise her a poem.
Thanks.
Try page 24. Now leave, I grow weary.
Don't bend the pages back!
Well, well!
Lookee who we have here.
Has Nicole left for netball already?
Thought you'd know, seeing as you're such intimate pals.
She left her bibs with me and there's a game tonight.
You can leave them with me.
Oops!
Whoops!
Some piece of work, aren't you?
What do you mean?
Coming round here with your bag of bibs. You've got some fucking balls.
What did you say? You heard me.
What is your mad little game?
Game?
I don't have no game, lady. Alls I'm doing is just sitting here with my stuff.
Well, until we meet again.
Till then. Until then.
Till then.
La la la!
You're an aggressive, serial, psychopathic lesbian.
Nicole doesn't stand a chance.
Poor thing.
Poor little thing.
I like the "Royal" Kirke University.
Nice touch.
I'm not sure we're strictly allowed to use it.
Excellent implication that the atom was first split at Kirke.
And that we couldn't talk about it till now for security reasons. Yes.
However, I am slightly worried about the fact
that there are just three photos of me in here.
There is just one of all the staff.
Mmmmm, yes, all except of you of whom there are...
85.
Yes, well, now that you see what a prominent role I play here,
perhaps you should consider raising my salary.
I am considering it.
And I've just decided not to.
You do realise this lens reaches right into your office in the evenings.
Give me that camera.
Thank you.
A-a-a-a-a! The memory card.
Grace, could we put Ms Tennant on plop-watch, please?
So a set of infinite sub-sets can be plotted in Zuckerman's space, which...
Yes?
"Is the heart sucked from my tomorrow In the heat of your today?
"The bottle's open and it's spoiling fast..."
Oh, hello.
"And we're in the hot sun making hay."
"And this sex is too in-cen-die-ry to last."
Oh, God!
"My soul is reaching climax now
I long to sit with you and stare through the misted window."
"I have stripped back more than is wise."
"I search for an image of you I cannot remember what we last said."
"Was it kind?"
"Was it naked as love should be?"
What are you doing?!
I'm just showing you the sort of deep, mature guy I am.
The sort of guy who interrupts a lecture and embarrasses us both.
What? I'm not embarrassed. Oh!
I wrote you a poem. That was it just then.
The one you read from this book?
Yes!
You wrote all of these? Did I?
By an anonymous author.
Yeah, yeah, I bloody did. I wrote all of them. Easy.
You have been busy, haven't you?
I was up all night. Writing.
Well done, well done. We'll carry on where we left off next time. Um...
Er... er...
Can I keep this?
Course you can.
Do you wanna hear another one?
No!
♪ You light the skies up above me ♪
♪ A star so bright you blind me Yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Don't close your eyes ♪
♪ Don't fade away ♪
♪ Don't fade away, oh-oh ♪
♪ Yeah, you and me we can ride on a star ♪
♪ If you'd stay with me, girl ♪
♪ We can rule the world... ♪
Shut the fuck up.
Sorry, I just like the song.
Go. Go.
I was looking for someone else.
Why did you come in here?
Thought someone might have been here.
You've missed Barack Obama.
Your boy burst into my set theory lecture.
My boy? I thought he was your boy now.
He started spouting weird poetry at me.
"Weird"?
Posturing, provocative... sexual.
Sounded more like you.
Did it?
"Is the heart sucked from my tomorrow?"
You're right, that sort of hot yearning isn't really Flat'sstyle.
Nor is... writing a book.
Oh, great, he actually brought you a book.
Claiming to have written it.
Dark horse.
Last night. You know what these poets are like.
Probably got his days mixed up. I'm sure he wrote it ages ago.
According to the copyright date, he was eight when he came up with this.
Precocious talent.
So... is there anything you want to say to me?
I have a tapered penis.
Quite sensitive nipples.
I like your poetry. It has flair.
Well, thanks, but it's not mine.
Oh, I think it is.
I think it isn't.
Well, when was the last time you tried to get something into print?
Seems like 300 years ago.
What happened?
Couldn't sell it. One publisher said it was exuberant but repetitive.
Oh. Sorry. It's all right.
I shagged his wife exuberantly and repetitively.
Professor Tennant? Yes.
It's this new consultant.
We've got a petition for protecting some of the key faculties.
Yes, bring it here.
OK.
Are you all right?
Yes, I was just trying to bring myself to orgasm on this coat hook.
Would you like a go?
Um, I don't think coat hooks are really what does it for me.
No, I meant more, you as the coat hook.
I just remembered that I have to go back home for lunch.
I could come with you.
To India.
Do you like someone else?
Ahh!
Do you mind if I ask you who it is?
Would it make you feel better?
Yeah, no, it really would.
If I could be reasonably sure that he was better than me.
Better looking, more talented,
fitter body, that sort of thing, a god of a man.
He's worse than you in every department.
Barely qualifies as a human being. Oh.
Oh!
Are you sure?
You're not serious about killing yourself, are you?
No... No, because I couldn't bear not to see your face every day.
Here's what I'm gonna do.
I'm gonna get absolutely shit-faced. Yeah!
And sleep with someone blonde.
And I'll wake up just a little bit deader inside.
I'll keep doing that until one day I'll wake up
and I'll be someone like Matt.
And then maybe you'll want me.
But I won't want you.
On the whole I prefer maths to men anyway.
There she goes. Imogen Moffat.
All arms and legs,
like someone trying to fold deck chairs into a suitcase.
I think I love her
I...
This is gonna make things interesting.
Because. But why?
Because, Imogen, we're Kirke University, not just Kirke.
I don't see why we can't be Netball Association or Netball Club.
Or Netball Society.
For fuck's sake, we're a team!
It's too late now. I've had 36 of them printed.
Yeah, well, I like them.
"Following in the ball-prints of the late, great John Milton,
I, Jonty Flaps De Wolfe, do hereby decree that upon my death
I leave my organs to scientific research, not to people."
"In addition, my scrotal sac I bequeath to Kirke University."
"The sac is of over-large proportions
and is a fitting tribute to me and my time as lecturer
in this fine establishment,
a legacy for students and leaders to come."
Come on in! You catch me in a good mood.
I'm having a growth spurt.
This had better be good, I'm on a voyage of self-discovery
and may have just made landfall.
And I have just bequeathed my scrotal sac to the university.
What will you keep your testicles in?
I want to say "in Mrs De Wolfe's mouth", but I think that may be uncouth.
Upon my death, I have bequeathed my scrotal sac.
If it's good enough for Milton, it's good enough for me.
Milton didn't really do it, though.
I beg your pardon, Professor.
Oh, yeah.
Well, if it's good enough for you and Milton, I might do it as well.
Many women will use it as a shrine.
They will weep at the nut sac they once caressed.
No, you can't do it. I've done it.
If you do it, that means, well, it renders my gesture worthless.
I'll do it if I want to.
No, you can't! Why not?
Because if you do...
You'll what?
I'll give you gonorrhoea.
How do you propose to do that?
The usual way.
You'll have unprotected sex with multiple partners,
then have unprotected sex with me?
No. I was gonna get it off Amazon.
Hey! Imogen, you were on fire out there.
I was on fire?
Well, well, well.
Brilliant. For a first time, especially.
Thanks.
Hey! Ow!
Huh?
Not quite so on fire there, were we?
Maybe you should have watched the ball instead of the ladies.
Jason, what on earth are you doing?
You said I could play.
It's all I could find.
Oh, right, so the sister doesn't like boys playing netball, is that it?
Well, what about here? What about right now?
You and me, mano-a-mano, speccy.
Jason!
Do you want some? You want a piece, huh?
Well done. Thought you played very well.
Are you going to say something sexual?
No.
Oh, you're thinking something sexual.
No.
Interesting.
Well, you girls just go off and enjoy your showers together, yeah?
Ow! Ow!
Now the sexual thoughts come.
Let's have a look. Quite nasty when she slaps you, isn't it?
Yeah. Ow!
Unnecessary!
You look very happy.
Is that a problem?
It's unsettling.
I've just said,
I don't believe your initiatives will help Kirke break into the top 300.
Yes, I heard that.
You're not just saying that? No.
Then why the smiling?
Mrs De Wolfe recommended it.
She said it would help wash away all the badness.
It's very scary.
Don't be scared. It's just smiling.
I think it's better if you stop.
Why would I want to do that?
Please stop smiling.
OK. I can't stop smiling.
I've got a cramp. I need you to manipulate my face
Please turn this smile upside down into a frown.
I can't touch your face. I can't go even go near you.
I do not scare easily, but this is scaring me,
which is even scarier.
Could you just sign...?
♪ How do you solve a problem like Maria? ♪
Fucking netball!
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd, MemoryOnSmells