♪
-Time for a selfie. Aah! -[chattering]
-It's summertime, bitches. -[cheering]
-Rem Dogg, are you in drag? -He's gone emo.
Oh, God. Now how did the holiday reading go, guys?
What? I gave you Game of Thrones.
Why would we read a book and ruin the fiercest TV show ever?
And it's not on the history syllabus.
Well, it should be. It's basically the Tudors with dragons and tits.
Oh, Jing, it would appear that you've forgotten to do the register.
Once you enable me, you negate me. Kierkegaard.
Oh, wait a sec. Hollow eyes, black polo neck.
I believe Jing is having a little teenage existential crisis.
-You don't understand. -Oh, I do.
My friend Atticus Hoy did this on our Leavers trip to Normandy.
Read a book by a Frenchman, ended up head-butting a horse just for the feeling.
Which book? [speaks French]
Astrix. Right, enough with the doom and gloom.
Krispy Kremes for one and all.
Chantelle, I have prepared ripostes for cream fillings,
sticky rings and glazed muffin tops.
I'm busy.
Good. Well, that's the spirit.
Exam term, guys.
Oh, God. He's in a hat. Let's get this over with.
[gasps] He's doing a Britney.
Are you ill or racist?
I kept getting nits. Mom said this was the only way. It's awful.
It's not awful. I prefer it shaved.
-I'll take note of that. -I thought you were working.
-Couldn't resist. -It's all right, babe, have a doughnut.
I can't. I'm on a vegan diet.
Guys, have you been kidnapped by puberty?
-You've all changed. -Willy wanker. [laughing]
My dad just nicked an iPad so he's chucking out all his old porn. Who wants what?
Sweet Mitchell. My rock.
[upbeat music playing]
♪ Yeah, politics ♪
[man rapping]
What's this lame-ass meeting about?
Fraser wants us to meet the new Deputy Head.
Hey, for our flat, why don't we get a foosball table?
-Because we're not a student union. -It'll be romantic.
As an idea I'm ranking this alongside the hot tub
or that Michael Buble doorbell.
Fine, we won't buy a foosball table.
I haven't bought a foosball table.
don't wanna be a killjoy Alfie, but we've got bigger priorities.
The flat is a complete mess.
-Talking of a complete mess, you know my dad? -Yes.
You know the way that he married a witch called Pro Green who ran off with his money
and now he's sleeping in his car?
How do you feel about him living with us?
No! I mean, I mean, no.
No, because your dad should pick himself up and dust himself down,
definitely change his clothes and then find himself a new job.
A job? My dad?
He spends his days drinking alone in Weatherspoons and his nights moving
from lay-by to lay-by trying not to get wanked on.
He's a train wreck. Totally unemployable.
-Meet our new Deputy Head. -Dad. Fraser, are you mad?
-Insania. You like the Andre? -Roomies. How about movie night tonight,
you, me, Octopussy and a keg of Bishops Finger?
Did you already tell him he could live with us?
Um, no. He's probably been...
Alf, what's the US Military motto?
Don't ask, don't tell?
No, that was the BBC's in the 1970s.
It's "never leave a man behind" and Pro Green left this man for dead.
What? No, sorry, he can't be my boss. He's my dad.
In here, I'm your colleague, not your dad.
Trust me, Mr. Wickers, our relationship won't affect
-the work environment one iota. -This is so cringe.
Smootcher can't handle stress. One birthday at Studham Adventure Playground,
he lost his nerve on the zip wire.
Wet himself above some picnickers. Ruined his 18th.
-How is this happening? -Thank you, Mr. Fraser.
And thank you everyone who's here.
Fornication as magical as today.
Budge up, there's a new banterlope at the watering hole.
"This school is in financial dire straits.
It's in need of money for nothing."
Oh. That's good. [clicks tongue]
What about the fundraiser, the teachers' auction?
Yeah, I've raised 20 grand.
I'm afraid it was poorly invested.
I may have launched a clothing range.
Dodgy and Gebanter.
We've taken on extra pupils to secure more funding, but it's not enough.
-Regretfully, we're gonna have to lose a member of staff. -What?
Everyone is on redundancy review, from Mr. Fraser downwards.
-Yes. Sorry, what? -The school can't just sack a member of staff.
I'll handle this, compadre.
Rosie, I'm sure as a woman,
you were a huge fan of Mrs. Thatcher.
[Fraser] Martin did everything he could, Miss G.
-I even looked into pawning my car. -Don't sell the car.
Then I'm afraid the worst performing teacher is for the chop.
You won't get away with this. We are teachers--
-united we stand, divided we fall. -Hear! Hear!
Yeah, what she said.
Ooh, just a quick one.
Would the school be able to by a foosball table off me?
A foosball table?
No.
Feel it, Chantelle, so smooth. Did you Veet it?
Love, you can't just pitch up and dump your shit on me property.
Gypsy king's changed his tune.
-Shut up your noise. -Whoa, let's just calm down.
Sir, she's disrupting the class.
Well, that's the pot calling the kettle bla--
Go on then, I dare you.
Bl--
a similar color to itself.
And you are?
Cleopatra.
Oh, Cleopatra, coming at ya.
Fuck off, burglar Bill.
Good, we'll put that one down to first day nerves.
-She's got a tongue on her. -What you say? Little Miss Gel Pen.
Which skip did you find that weave in?
-Bitch. -Bin dipper.
-Guys, please be quiet. -Don't touch my shit, yeah.
-What are you gonna do about it? -Okay, can we just sit down and be quiet please?
Touch my shit, I will end you.
-Split-end you. -[chanting] Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight!
Okay, unless you sit down and shut up immediately,
I will write down on the board the name of a character
who dies in Game of Thrones season five.
-Wouldn't dare. -Wouldn't I?
-Give that back to me! -Get off!
-Right, R-- -[screaming]
-Oh, you silly prick. -"A."
[girl] my God! [gasps]
Martin Wickers, stop right there.
What the Charlie Dickens is that?
The solution to all our money problems.
Behold the SegDesk.
It's pending patent approval, but trust me I'm standing on the next Dyson.
Wonders never cease. Maybe you should give up this teaching lark
and become a full-time bona fide inventor.
You know what, maybe I should.
Hang on, I know what you're trying to do, you sly old shit.
Guilty as charged, my lad.
Anyway, sadly there's only one very obvious candidate for redundancy.
And it came from in your balls.
-It gosh darn did. -[laughing]
Yep, the school governors want me to saddle up my ass and sacrifice my only son.
I just pray Alfie can keep that class under control.
[Cleopatra] Man, what's wrong with you? Hold him still.
Fraser. Father.
Ready for your appraisal, smoocher?
Yep, just as soon as I've washed the word "twat" off my forehead.
Yep, that should do it.
Dad, you do realize if you fire me, I won't be able to pay my rent.
You'll be homeless and back in that smelly car.
Which is why it's important that you stay focused.
Right, Mr. Wickers, what's your biggest weakness?
-Honestly? -This is a safe space.
Please, truthfully, your biggest weakness.
Truthfully? Probably poppers.
[inhales]
[imitates explosion] Every time.
Miss Gulliver, your biggest weakness? Nothing?
-What's unique about you? -I'm completely blind in one eye.
Yep, absolutely no depth of vision.
The answer is, of course, my unique sense of humor and with that my work here is done.
-Mr. Fraser, can you sit back down? -Yes, siree, bob.
What's your greatest achievement?
Nearly had a threesome on holiday.
Oh, yes, you've rather lost touch with Atticus Hoy
-and his brother. -No, I meant on my gap year.
My biggest regret? Hmm. I used to say the "n" word
at least a hundred times a day. "N" word this, "n" word that. It was a real buzz kill.
And then one day I vowed never again to say the word "n-o."
-The "n" word is no? -Yep. Since then everyone at Abbey Grove has been forbidden
from ever saying the word no to anything.
Except all of the girls.
Oh, come on, Rosie. What's been your proudest moment as a teacher?
This.
-Describe yourself in one word. -Succeedophile.
-Sorry. -You heard me right, madam.
I am a massive, unrepentant succeedophile
and you'd better put me on the goddamn register, sister,
'cause I will reoffend. At succeeding.
What's your greatest ambition?
[sighs] Probably another threesome.
Let's rein in the honesty a tad, shall we?
Maybe your ambition is to get some of your pupils into Oxbridge?
Hah! Oxbridge. Never gonna happen.
Very good, Alf, but there's actually nothing wrong with Form K.
-I believe there have been tests. -Many, many tests.
And there may be some people who believe the problem lies elsewhere,
and they're saying that you're feckless, childish and incompetent.
I'm not feckless. I've got loads of feck.
I'm a fecking, motherfecker.
So why don't you three just back the feck off?
-You're not helping yourself. -Wait. You want to fire me.
Of course I don't want to fire you, but you're leaving me with no choice.
-I'm your son. -Not at school, Mr. Wickers, we're colleagues.
-For now. -Et tu, Father?
The teachers of Abbey Grove are on strike.
We will not return to work until you promise job security
for every single member of staff.
Alfie, don't go with her, stay and fight for your job.
Whose side are you on, Alfie?
[Martin] He's always been confused about which side he's on.
One minute he's holding hands with Alice Plemons,
the next I catch him ramming pogs up Atticus Hoy's--
Right. To the barricades!
Just a quick one.
Teachers still get paid on strike, right?
Teachers united!
[Alfie] This strike is not about individuals.
This strike is for every teacher that has ever been sacked
by their own father.
This strike is about drawing a line in the sand,
standing up to the man and saying no.
Yes, sir.
You sure this is all right, mate?
[sighs] God.
I haven't held a placard in my hand since I ran for student president.
Really, you?
Yeah, I guess you could say back at school I had something
of the politician in me.
Did you get bummed by George Osborne?
Dah. Served another zinger.
What, 'cause all black people work at KFC?
Is that what you're saying, Clarkson?
No, not at all.
A lot of my best friends work in KFC.
-[Stephen] Look, sir. -Come up.
It's my one man Les Mis all over again.
Joe, maybe lose the flag. It makes you look a little bit National Fronty.
I'm already sorting out the press. Joe's my PA.
I've spoken to a man from the Watford Guardian.
I want the nationals, babe.
I'm offering The Mail Online photos of Chantelle in a bikini.
-Stephen, she's 16. -No, you're right.
She's probably a bit old for the "Sidebar of Shame."
You know what would really grab their attention? A hunger strike.
Joe, you know the way you're on this vegan diet which--
Isn't working. I miss bacon so much.
Cheer up, Uncle Fester, soon you'll be skinny enough to start buying your clothes from Jacamo.
At least he don't get his threads from Asda. Your mom get a staff discount?
-She don't even work at Asda. -So how she get a staff discount?
-Sucked off George? -Guys.
Don't worry, not your George.
Thanks. Look, Joe, my dad says that I'm a bad teacher,
but who's gonna look bad when doctors are force-feeding you through a tube
because you love me so much?
Alfie, is this strike just about getting revenge on your dad?
Tsk, no. A hunger strike's win-win mate.
The governors will cave the minute you start losing weight.
How long's that gonna take? I'm going to Tenerife next Christmas.
Listen, guys, actions speak louder than words, Joe.
Rosa Parks, Tiananmen Square.
Protesting the war in Vietnam, a monk set himself on fire.
Oh, good idea, I'll get the petrol, we've already got a monk.
Idiot. Oh...
Thank God for Jing, always thinking.
What if we light a real fire under my dad's ass?
Old health and safety's here to save the day.
I was thinking of throwing them off the roof.
-You've changed. -I rebel, therefore I exist. Camus.
-Anyone else finding that a bit annoying? -Yep.
Right, I've gotta go find Miss Gulliver, we're drawing up a list of demands.
-Beer at lunch. -Unbelievable.
The reporter's here. Tits and teeth.
So why did you get expelled from your last school?
I kidnapped a teacher.
-Really? -No, you salad.
I'm not a psycho.
Called in a bomb threat to get out of some long division.
Amazing.
Pick up your lip.
Someone's in love.
Oh, shit, maybe I am. Bollocks.
You've taken a vow of silence?
Okay, just let me know by the way
if you don't want that foosball table.
Seriously, just say the word.
We're drawing up a list of demands.
-We demand safe pensions. -Job security.
-No more homework. -I'm a lover, not a fighter, babe.
-Like Ghandi. -Oh, totes.
David Gandy's always been an inspiration, those abs, like a cobbled street.
Wouldn't wanna walk down them in a wedged heel.
[whispers]
That man with the nappy? Eww.
Wickers. I need your advice.
I think I like Cleo. She's an absolute weldy.
Really? I thought you and her had beef.
Yeah, I instantly regret using that word.
No, I think I, like, "like her" like her.
-She thinks I'm a tool. -I mean, you kind of are.
Look, mate, men like me and you, we're never gonna be able to get girls with our looks.
What do you mean, men like me and you? I'm an absolute baller, mate, a nine out of ten.
-You look like a Topshop Peter Sutcliffe. -Right.
I mean, do you want my help?
Our only option is to make girls laugh. Women love a sense of humor.
-Oh, I get it, I've gotta laugh her into-- -A corner, yeah.
Laugh her straight into an impulsive flat share
that binds her to you financially.
[horn honks]
Code red. They're sending in supply teachers.
[shouting]
Look at them, it's like the army of the unsullied invaded M&S.
What's wrong with supply teachers?
Well, put it this way,
even I can get a permanent placement.
Scab! Oh, my God, all we need is Julie Walters and it's Billy Elliot. Scab!
Right, that's it, I'm taking this to the next level.
-Dirty protest. -What?
No. I'm gonna hit my dad where it hurts.
-His car. -Shit on his car.
-No, there's no shit. -Oh.
[rock music playing]
♪ Hey! Hey! ♪
♪ Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! ♪
Wickers, you been sniffing glue?
Shut up. What is all of this?
It's meant to be a strike, not a festival.
I thought if we're here for the long-haul, we might as well have a laugh.
Tomato? I'm gonna pelt the supply teachers.
Old school, slapstick. Cleo might like it.
Salad for the salad.
Kelly Osbourne, wanna see a couple of turnips that look like your mom's bollocks?
-Can I have a tomato? -No, Joe, you're on hunger strike.
-I'm so hungry. -You're doing great, mate.
And remember, when everyone else is tucking into that delicious hog roast,
you my friend are gonna be occupying the moral high ground.
Hog roast? Why, God?
Joe.
Look what those journo bastards did, sir.
I told them not to print my left side.
I said front on or three-quarter profile.
-They've given me fat neck. -Sorry. Did you say all of these things?
I thought it was an interview, not a bloody quiz.
Mein Kampf was the name of John Barrowman's autobiography.
-You thought that Hitler's first name was Heil. -Heil Hitler.
-That Hezbollah and Hamas were chips and dips. -Well, they sound yummy.
"When asked who said, 'I have a dream,'" you responded.
Westlife. I know, I know, that one was dumb. Originally it was Abba.
-Maybe we are stupid, sir. -No, don't worry, Chantelle.
It's just some stupid journalist trying to spin a story out of nothing.
Miss Gulliver's class are revising. We're just pissing around.
Oi, who's nicked my porn?
I'm gonna fail my exams.
Who cares, babes? I'm gonna become a dancer and you're gonna be my makeup artist.
Not anymore. I found out I need GCSEs to get into a beauty school.
-I'm screwed. -So that's why you've been working so hard?
If I fail my GCSEs, I'll never get a job.
What have I got to put on my CV?
I haven't achieved anything.
Not true, babes, you got to snog Science from Big Brother 6.
I don't wanna be a failure.
It's my fault. You're not a failure, Chantelle, and you never will be.
My dad's right. I'm letting you guys down.
Don't worry, I'm gonna get into our classroom, I'll get some textbooks,
start teaching you al fresco style.
Who's "Al Fresco"? Wait, is it one of the Jersey Boys?
No, babe, al fresco is French for patio.
Oh, God, I really need to start teaching you again.
But you'll be breaking the strike.
I'm gonna get you those GCSEs. I promise.
As Britain's youngest headmaster I have to be everywhere at once,
in lessons, in the staff room, occasionally in court,
but always in high spirits.
[laughs] How do I do this I hear you ask?
I give you the future.
Versatile. Versatile.
[telephone rings]
I want those reports on my desk by end of play today.
Still working.
[splashing]
Fast, quiet and efficient,
the SegDesk has all the attributes of a Victorian lover.
So hop on one today.
Rosie, what I'm about to do doesn't mean that I don't support you,
and I still think that my dad's being a dick.
But I need to think about my kids.
I'm putting an end to this strike.
I'm crossing the picket line and I'm negotiating.
I'm sorry.
Stop, Alfie!
You can't let them win. Come back.
Ah, you've finally come to your senses.
Traitor.
[all chanting] Judas, Judas, Judas, Judas, Judas!
[laughing]
Come on, Jing, come and give us a hand with something.
Stop! I quit. I quit.
-I quit. -What?
I quit.
If that's the only way that I can get everyone back into school,
then that's the way it's got to be.
You don't have to. We can break them.
How long's that gonna take? Days, weeks?
I can't risk that. My kids need to be learning, and that's not gonna happen out here.
No, sir, you can't quit.
No, Chantelle, you deserve a better teacher.
Maybe this is for the best.
So, Dad, reluctantly, I take this redundancy.
The strike's over.
What you just did showed real courage.
I hope I proved a point. This whole thing was getting completely out of hand.
Thankfully now we can all get back to normal.
Good old Alfie, joking to the last. We're gonna miss you, son.
-Miss me? -Well, you did just resign.
Yeah, but I mean, I was kind of only doing the whole "I quit" thing
to show everyone how ludicrous the whole situation was.
I don't actually have to lose my job, do I?
But I've still gotta find the money from somewhere,
and I did plead with the governors,
but they were going to insist I sack you anyway.
If only you'd shown this pluck during your review,
instead of all that guff about threesomes.
If it's any consolation, you saved me a lot of soul-searching.
Yeah, it's no consolation whatsoever.
Oi, Cleo, watch this.
Commitment is an act, not a word. Sartre.
Eat pig, bitch. Mitchell.
-Alfie! -[crowd gasping]
That is bang out of order, man.
Oh. How could she not find that funny?
We just squashed a vegan with a pig.
You took a pig for me, brother.
I'm so hungry.
A hundred grand? That's unbelievable.
Yes, I accept. I can't wait to tell the troops.
Stop. Nobody's getting fired.
As I have just sold a patent to the Japanese guy
who brought you such hits as the Shewee and Heboob.
That's right, Japan is about to say konichiwa to the SegDesk.
-That's not true, is it? -I sold my flat.
I knew the governors wanted Alf's head
and I couldn't stay on at Abbey Grove without my best bud.
Thanks, Fraser. Where will you live?
Oh, my office. Either that or, Martin, can your car fit two?
It can. Post-divorce I had a rebound fling
with a 16-stone lady trucker called Fat Pat.
Romancing a woman of that size in the back of the flame red Tigo could prove taxing.
Getting her bra and truss off alone was a three-man job.
Luckily she had a friend, Mick, her husband.
Dark days.
I'll probably just rent.
Dad, about your car.
Before you see it, can you just remember that
I was really, really angry?
[laughing]
Oh, my days, that is junked, gashmobile.
Man's car got porned.
-Half the credit must go to Mr. Mitchell. -What?
-Yeah, it was me, I did it. -Quite funny, bruv.
Don't touch me.
Come on.
Cheers for that, sir.
That's all right. [sighs]
Okay, guess I'd better go get cleaned up then.
Yep, that should do it.
-[shouting] -Come on, hit it in!
Yeah, I rule! One more game then back to work?
I'm glad you didn't leave, sir.
Oh, so am I, Chantelle.
You guys are like a family to me.
Mitchell, Joey-boy, even Cleo.
Little Rem Dogg.
Where is Rem Dogg?
Oh, shit. Rem Dogg!
Hey.
Oh, someone had a wee-wee in the night.
[chains break]
[upbeat music playing]
♪ Yeah, politics ♪
[man rapping]