Lyrics (I found a set online, but they were wildly inaccutrate in places, so I made the necessary changes):
Aww, listen to that, Arthur. That’s your actual Bow Bells.
Yeah. Listen to that. It’s a disgrace, on the public thoroughfare. They should be reported to the noise abatement society.
Aw, do leave off. It’s Christmas, innit, a time of good will.
A time to make you ill, you mean! We’ve only just got over “One pound fifty for the Guy, Mister.” Used to be a penny in my day.
Yeah, well Queen Victoria’s dead, in’t she?
Now I suppose it’ll be the GBH of the ear’oles from carol singers.
Aw, cheer up will ya? Moan, moan, moan. That’s all I ever get from you!
It’s tough and it’s lonely in top management.
Oh don’t give me no earache, you don’t even pay your rent!
I’ve got a lock-up with no lock on and it’s snowing outside.
If you don’t get 'er a present soon, there’ll be nowhere to hide.
I’ve got a lovely furry coat. I could tell 'er it’s mink.
Nah, she’ll suss it’s skunk, It don’t half pen an’ ink.
It don’t
It do.
You’d know?
I would.
Here’s a turn-up for the book!
What?
Hold on, here comes Chisholm.
He’s giving me a funny look. What now?
Sing - He don’t know one carol from another!
What’ll I get for Christmas for 'er indoors?
I don’t see it’s my problem, really.
In fact, don’t give me no problems, 'cos this one’s yours.
Ooh!
What?
That’s typical.
Right!
You’ve no respect.
You make me laugh, you do.
No, Terence, please…
Look, just leave me out!
After all I’ve done for you?
What’re we gonna get for 'er indoors?
Whatever I get, it’s gonna cost me an arm and a leg.
Well, you’ve got four of 'em, ain’t you? Even you oan afford one of them!
A typewriter with ribbons that was worn by Lady Di.
A lovely sirloin steak for when she whacks you in the eye!
She wouldn’t
She would
You know?
How much?
All right, I will concede! But we’re standing here with nothing, and it’s nearly Christmas eve!
So?
'Ere what about that perfume I purchased down the Winch?
You spilt it on the counter, and it blistered every inch!
Oh yes! We could bottle it and call it “The Elixir of Life”!
You do that to 'er, son, and the next thing, you’ll need a new wife!
Yeah, that wouldn’t be very nice, would it?
Well, it’s not for me to comment.
What’ll I get for Christmas for 'er indoors?
I don’t really care an awful lot.
Don’t give me no problems, 'cos this one’s yours.
There you go again!
There I go again? Eh?
That’s typical.
Right!
You’ve no respect.
You make me laugh, you do.
Oh, Terence, please…
Just leave me out!
After all I’ve done for you?
What’re we gonna get for 'er indoors?
Money?
Terence!
Sorry about that. It’s Christmas.
I’ve got some lovely Hong Kong made genuine Paris knickers.
Yeah! She can wear them with that fourteen-pair of left foot kickers!
Wives, St. Lawrence, Channel Five, I’ve gone right through the card.
'Ere, what about that Cartier watch?
Nah, fell off the lorry too hard.
An iron?
Leave off.
Saucepan?
Arthur!
I’ll throw 'er a tupperware party.
That’s like getting a telly that only shows Russell Harty.
Oh Terence, this is serious, we’ve got to do something soon!
'Ere, Why dont you just… not go home?
Eh?
She’d be over the moon!
That is very wounding, Terence!
Yeah.
Wounding and ungrateful, that’s what you are.
I’m entitled to be, the money you don’t pay me!
You do all right.
Do I? No thanks to you.
What’re we gonna get for 'er indoors?
Money?
Terence!
That’s typical!
Right.
You’ve no respect!
You make me laugh, you do.
Oh, Terence, please.
Look, just leave me out
After all I’ve done for you!
What’re we gonna get for 'er indoors?
I wish it was January the second.
What’re we gonna get for 'er indoors?
'Ere, in’t that carol singing?
Yeah, I wish she’d stop. Come on. I’ve got a cotchel of army surplus Christmas Puddings I want shifting. Come on!
Christmas!