Plebs

Hi! I think we're on the guest list?

Name? - Marcus.

Marcus what?

Marcus Phillippus Valerius Gallo.

BACKGROUND CHATTER)

No, you're not on here.

Okay, try Stylax Rufus Eurisces.

- Don't think so. - Might be down as a plus-one?

- Whose plus-one? - I don't mind, who have you got?

Back off. You're not on the scroll, so it's 10 each.

Ten denarii? I mean, one of us is just a slave, so...

So leave him outside.

Can we leave you outside?

Well, I'd rather not.

- He'd rather not, is the thing. -It's dead nippy.

Evening, ladies. You have yourselves a good night.

Okay, so we sort of need to get in.

Look, gents, I'm not sure this is a place for guys like you.

Guys like us? What does that mean?

Do I need to spell it out for you?

# Yeah! When in Rome

# Do as the Romans do

# Far from home, all I got is you #

- Salve, Marcus. - All right, Landlord?

Certainly am. Just got some new tenants, fresh off the boat.

- Oh yeah? What are they like? - Brilliant! Paying 60 a week.

- I meant as people. - Well, idiots, clearly.

But make them feel welcome, won't you?

Here, let me give you a hand with that.

Oh, thanks. I literally love you.

Um, well, I love you too.

I'm Marcus, I live upstairs.

So do I, I think. Cynthia.

This place is a dump.

Marcus, this is my slave, Metella.

- Hello. - And goodbye. We're not staying here.

Oh, no, really?

What? No, stay! You should stay.

It's dirtier than home, Cynth.

- Where's home? - Britain.

Where we live in huts made of mud.

So, what could be dirtier than mud?

Dog shit on our doorstep.

Oh, gross. That really is dirty.

Yeah, but the dog that did that is actually pretty cute, so...

Still not great. Thanks so much for your help.

Oh, my pleasure. So I tell you what,

I'll get my slave to clean up the dog business,

and when you're settled in, I'll give you a tour of the hood. Yeah?

We could use a tour guide.

Well, then. Done deal.

So, are you a native Roman, then, Marcus?

Pretty much, been here about six weeks, so...

Are you really sure this is a good idea?

Brilliant idea. You'll love it here.

- Anything from home? - No, just junk.

What took you so long, then?

Just helping some new neighbours move in. A couple of Britons.

Girls?

Er, no, boys. Big boys.

In fact, Grumio, I need you to clean up some dog shit from outside their door, okay?

Not okay.

Right. Why not?

It's not our shit or our dog or our door.

Yeah, that's the wrong attitude, mate. We're not on the farm any more.

We're in Rome now.

If you want to impress people here, we've got to...

- Pick up their dog shit? - Well, in this case, yes.

Oh, wow. Oh, my bloody wow.

What?

An orgy?

"The followers of flesh, a feast for the senses."

No, thank you.

No, thank you? Simple as that?

- Not for me. - What, orgies aren't for you? Okay.

What about her? Is she not for you?

- That's a drawing, that's... - Gotta be based on someone.

Someone who won't be there.

But you said you wanted to meet girls.

I said I wanted a girlfriend.

But you might meet her there.

Mmm. Funnily enough, I don't wanna meet my future wife

while she's being humped by a couple of centurions.

So, wait 'til they've finished.

How much is it?

It's reassuringly expensive, but we can make cutbacks.

- Where? - Uh, with groceries.

We can cut back. Right, Grum?

- Not really. - We are prioritising orgies over food now?

No, it says "feast".

For the senses. That won't be an actual...

Oh, no, there is, there's a bloody buffet!

A buffet at an orgy? That sounds hygienic.

- Is it all you can eat? - Well, I assume so.

You're not going, Grumio! I'm not paying for my slave to bang his way through a buffet.

I wanna be a follower of flesh!

Oh, come on, mate.

You can do this. It's only following.

Following flesh!

I mean, if that's the only way you can get your rocks off,

then, frankly, I feel sorry for you.

And where do you get your rocks off, Aurelius?

Anywhere, mate. Er, bars, galleries, the temple...

- The temple? - Yeah, the temple is full of quality women.

Yeah, on their knees praying. You don't talk to them.

No, actually, on their knees worshipping my rack.

-(SNORTS) - Really? Rack?

Rack means boobs.

No, rack is muscles.

- You have boobs? - Show us your boobs!

I do not have boobs.

I'm glad to hear it. (LAUGHS) Working hard, then, boys?

Always, thank you, Flavia.

I come bearing gifts.

Right, as in more work?

Copier, I need 12 of these double-sided for the business-affairs meeting on Friday.

- Ah, I have already done these. - Oh, you poor thing.

It's just I'd rather not do them again.

And I'd rather not ask you, it's just they were a bit smudgy,

like someone had been weeping on them.

Were you weeping on them?

Uh, no.

Oh, sorry, I think I must have...

- Cheers, mate. - I'll leave the old ones for you, shredder.

Have it done by tomorrow, if poss.

Well, we'll try.

Yes, exactly. Try, and also succeed, because I will need it by then.

So let's maybe have no talking in here.

- Straight back, water boy. - Water man.

Straight back!

Salve, Grumio.

All right, Landlord?

Working hard, then?

I'm quite stressed, actually.

- Yeah, you look it. - Financial worries.

I'm trying to balance me budget for groceries with me budget for orgies and that.

Cut back on the groceries. No-brainer.

Cheers, yeah.

Do you know anywhere I can get food for cheap?

Well, how cheap are we talking?

Like, free?

Yeah, I might, as it happens.

Whizz kid.

Mmm, well, this is bad food.

Where did you get this mulch?

Landlord showed me a place.

You see, the trick is not to smell it or chew it, just swallow like a duck.

I mean, am I guaranteed sex? I mean, there must be a catch.

Marcus, trust me. They'll be queuing up for you, mate.

Ah, "Male attendees each have to bring a towel."

- We have towels. -"And a female guest."

- What about them Britons? - No, Grumio, don't.

- I thought you said they were big boys. - Big boys with breasts.

- I saw them first. - Fit Britons?

- Fit Britons. - The Fitons! Ask them to the orgy.

- Uh, no, that's, er, no. - Why not?

Well, one's a slave, sorry, and I kind of like the other one.

- It's perfect. - No, imperfect,

'cause I'm just getting to know her, and...

No, you don't want to get to know her.

That's not how it's done in this city, man.

Girls want guys who are balls out and sexually liberated, not chatty prudes.

I'm not a prude!

Marcus, I know when you've been fiddling with yourself

because you make Venus face the wall.

- She makes me self-conscious. - Well, not any more.

Man up, all right! Get this girl to the orgy.

This is the ideal way to take it to the next level, bro.

Might be skipping a couple of levels.

Well, exactly, cut to the chase.

That's how Romans roll.

Hey, and if she doesn't like it, she can get the next boat back to rainy Briton.

Britain. It's Britain, you dick.

Britain, Briton, whatever. If you don't ask her, I will.

All right, fine, I'll ask her. Just leave her alone.

Good boy.

So, what about you, who are you going to take?

Don't worry about me, old friend. I've got girls coming out of my arsehole.

Okay. Go ahead.

Female members of staff are invited to an orgy this Friday night.

Yeah, you... You can't put that in a memo.

- Why not? -It's inappropriate.

Has Flavia said so?

Well, not specifically, no,

but memos are more for office news, fire drills, sponsored swims

and, well, not that.

What if I did it through the entertainment committee?

There is no entertainment committee.

- I've just started one. - Really?

Yeah, and I'd like to issue some memos, if that's okay.

Sure, why not?

Memo number one. (CLEARS THROAT)

This Friday, there will be an office cake bake.

Oh, I'll make a lemon drizzle!

Oh, that sounds lovely.

- But no, hang on, don't do that. - Why?

'Cause, memo number two,

due to unforeseen circumstances the cake bake has been cancelled.

Oh, that's a shame.

I know, I'm gutted. So thank God for memo number three.