Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (2004) Script

BRIDGET: Another year, a brand-new diary.

Once again I was summoned, kicking and screaming, to my mother's turkey curry buffet, where I've had some of the most shaming experiences of my life.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Hello, darling. Lovely to see you.

BRIDGET: It was, as usual, crammed full with some of the most dangerous perverts in the United Kingdom disguised as close personal friends of my parents.

Hello, Bridget. Oh, no, thanks.

Love the jumper. I prefer what's underneath it.

Uncle Jeffrey. Hello, gorgeous.

Hello. Pom-pom.

Hello, darling. Hello, Dad. How's it going?

I wish I was dead.

BRIDGET: But this year, there was one crucial difference.

Nice jumper. My mother's taste never falters.

Never.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(BRIDGET HUMMING)

BRIDGET: You always wonder how it's going to work out at the end of the story.

Maria and Captain von Trapp, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Mark Darcy and Bridget Jones.

I have found my happy ending at last.

And nothing in the world can spoil it.

(HELICOPTER WHIRRING)

Well, almost nothing.

RICHARD: Bridget Jones, what the fuck are you doing?

I can't see anywhere soft to land.

How about on your ass?

Bridget, unless you want to get sacked at 6,000 feet, you'll be on your way in exactly three seconds.

Three, two, one.

Cue Bridget.

Skydiving, a dangerous bane to the countryside and emergency services, or a safe and exhilarating hobby?

Well, let's see, shall we?

Go. Jump! For Christ's sake, go!

(SCREAMING)

Okay, she's out. Unit 2, you got her?

MAN: Okay. We see her.

Bridget, open the chute.

(CONTINUES SCREAMING)

Open it.

Open your fucking parachute!

Pull the thingy or you will die!

BRIDGET: Honestly, you forget just one teeny-weeny detail and everyone treats you like an idiot.

(CHUCKLES)

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)


BRIDGET: Where was I? Oh, yes. Mark Darcy.

The question is, what happens after you walk off into the sunset?

RICHARD: Bridget.

Earth to Bridget Sodding Jones.

(PIGS GRUNTING)

(GASPS)

(SCREAMS)

RICHARD: Bridget, you're on. You're live.

Well, this is Bridget Jones for Sit Up, Britain, reporting to you from a big vat of excrement.

(EXCLAIMS)

Unit 2, give me a close-up of the porker.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(SOFT MUSIC PLAYING)

BRIDGET: Who cares about the odd professional hiccup?

The fact is I've been in a functional relationship with an adult male for six wonderful weeks, four fabulous days and seven precious hours.

Or to put it another way, 71 ecstatic shags.

He's given up being snooty, and I've given up smoking.

Well, he thinks I have, anyway, which is practically the same thing.

Mark Darcy is perfect.

Not a fuck-wit, alcoholic, workaholic, pervert, or megalomaniac, but total sex god and human rights lawyer.

He is a miracle, really.

Bridget, will you stop?

Stop staring at me while I'm asleep. Go and find something to do.

Sorry.

BRIDGET: So, as you can see, the incredible truth is, the wilderness years are over.

Bridget Jones is a love pariah no more.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

Morning, Bridget. Late again.

Yes, sorry.

I was in bed with my boyfriend. He's a human rights lawyer, you know?

Yes, we know.

BRIDGET: I cannot believe how fantastic shagging was last night.

Maybe I'll ring him.

No, no. Obviously it's important to tell one's boyfriend how nice he looks naked.

But I have crucial, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalism to do.

(PHONE BEEPING)

(PHONE DIALLING)

- MARK: Hello? It's me.

Just wondered how you are.

I'm fine, thanks. Everything all right with you?

Fine. Though, uh, I've just had a rather graphic shag flashback, and you do have a genuinely gorgeous bottom.

Thank you. I'm actually with the Mexican Ambassador, the head of Amnesty International and the Undersecretary for Trade and Industry.

And you're on speakerphone.

(MAN LAUGHING)

Oh, right. Well, I'm actually quite busy with important stuff, too...

Bridget, we're still waiting for that tape about Tom, the happy hamster.

Look, I'll call you when I'm finished.

Excellent.

And Richard wants to see you about that crap skydiving report.

Oh, fuck.

BRIDGET: Oh, dear. Is this the end of my career?

No, it can't be. I will fight this.

I am a journalist of the highest standards and integrity.

(BRIDGET SCREAMING)

(TAPE REWINDING)

This is Bridget Jones reporting to you from a big vat of excrement.

Look, I never said I could skydive, and I'm terrified of heights.

It was really hard to concentrate.

Be quiet, Bridget. They loved it upstairs.

Loved it. And they want us to come up with another regular spot for you.

(LAUGHING) Oh, my God. That's... I won't let you down, Richard.

We shall see.

...my friend's motto was, "When in Rome, do as many Romans as you can."

But if your tastes are marginally more highbrow than that, I also have tips.

Forget the Forum. Definitely forget the Colosseum.

No fun at all, now they're not allowed to slaughter Christians any more.

Forget the Sistine Chapel, first example in history of poof interior designer gone bonkers.

What is Daniel Cleaver doing on the television?

It's called the Smooth Guide. Making culture bearable.

...and equally beautiful Professore Giovanna Da Brache, who, I believe, is about to show me her diptych.

Same old creep.

Well, a shame. He always speaks very warmly of you.

Oh, yes? Yeah.

How about we go out for a bite to eat tonight?

Oh, can't. I have to go out with my boyfriend.

He's a human rights lawyer, you know? I know.

We're meeting for a romantic supper.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Bridget Jones.

- Bridget, it's Mark. Oh!

BRIDGET: I was just talking about you.

Listen, I'm running late. Do you want me to cancel?

Oh! No, that's fine. - You sure?

Be as late as you like.

Chuck him while you're still ahead and not pregnant with his unwanted child.

I only said he was working late.

Oh, that's his story.

One hour from now, he'll be coming in his secretary's mouth while he rings you to say what he wants for starters.

BRIDGET: Friends. They spend years trying to find you a boyfriend, but the moment you get one, they instantly tell you to dump him.

Even if he isn't shagging her already, Bridget, he's thinking about it.

"If a man is going out with a woman with large breasts, "he will bed a woman with small breasts."

Rubbish, Mark's above all that nonsense.

Jellyfisher alert. Jellyfisher alert.

BRIDGET: Janey Osborne.

Talking to her is like swimming in a sea, and being stung repeatedly by an enormous jellyfish.

Bridget.

How's it going with that divine man of yours?

You must be so pleased to have a boyfriend at last.

BRIDGET: First jellyfish of the evening.

Is he taking you to the Law Council dinner? Oh, well, I'm sure he's just forgotten.

Better start slimming into that dress.

So he's given you the night off to cheer up all your single friends. Sweet.

Actually he's got a big case on.

Trying to get everyone in Mexico out of prison.

We're meeting for a very late romantic dinner.

Really? That's so odd

'cause I saw him just an hour ago, going into his house with little Rebecca Gillies.

She's only 22. She's got legs up to here and Daddy owns half of Australia.

See you, babes.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Who's Rebecca Gillies?

And what's she doing going into my boyfriend's house where he never asks me, and with legs up to here?

My legs only come up to there.

You have fine legs, Bridget. Climber's legs.

I say go over there immediately and ask him straight out, "Are you or are you not having an affair with Rebecca Gillies?"

If he says...

"I won't dignify that question with an answer."

...then you know he's shagging her.

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)

BRIDGET: It's all about confidence and trust. Mark would never betray me.

Everything will be lovely, and we'll have sex in the kitchen.

WOMAN: I'm coming.

- Oh, God. WOMAN: I'm coming.

Oh, God! What is that?

WOMAN: Just give me two seconds. I'll be straight down.

Who is that?


Oh!

Okay, let's get on with it, shall we?

You're a very romantic man.

(SCREAMS)

(THUDDING)

(CHUCKLING)

Bridget Jones. No, I'm Bridget Jones.

Yeah, that's what I meant.

You must be... Rebecca Gillies.

I've been so looking forward to meeting you after everything Mark's told me.

Why, what has he said?

Where is Mark?

Actually... MARK: Becky, who is it?

Becky? Right.

Great!

Right.

Bridget.

Hello, Mark.

Hello, lawyers who work with Mark.

ALL: Hello. Good evening.

Everything under control, I see.

Uh, excellent graph.

Lovely legs. Thank you.

(ALL CHATTERING)

Sorry.

I am so sorry. I thought...

Oh, I don't know what I thought, and now you're really angry with me.

No, no. I'm not angry. It's okay. You can say if you are.

It's not the end of the world. I'll go get you a glass of wine.

The thing is, I ran into Janey Osborne, who said she'd just seen you with this girl with really long legs.

And Shazzer and Jude said that I should get over here straightaway.

So, following the orders of the Dating War Command, you decided to execute a raid. You are angry.

No, I'm not angry. I'm just disappointed. Disappointed?

Oh, God, that's worse than angry.

I'm just disappointed I can't take you home this instant.

Oh.

What about all those lawyers?

Plenty of time to butter them up at the Law Council dinner next Friday.

You don't want to go, do you? I'd love to.

BRIDGET: Oh, stupid Bridget. Stupid friends. Wonderful, loyal Mark Darcy, who loves me just the way I am.

(BRIDGET JUMPING)

MARK: What on earth are you doing? Getting dressed.

Why are you dancing around in that tent business?

Because I don't want you to see any of my wobbly bits.

Well, now that's a bit pointless, isn't it?

Because I happen to have a very high regard for your wobbly bits in all circumstances.

Really? Absolutely.

I think it's high time we had another look.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

BRIDGET: He really is very, very, very nice.

I miss you, too.

BRIDGET: I've never been happier in my entire life.

However, must not obsess or fantasize.

Bridget Darcy. Mrs. Darcy.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Lord and Lady Darcy.

I wonder what Mark Darcy would be like as a father.

Father to his children, I mean. Not to me.

That would be a weird Oedipus-like thought.

At last, life is on track.

Bridget Jones, fiancée, wife, mother.

BRIDGET: Bugger.

MAN: Ever fancied doing it in the dark with a total stranger?

All right, then. Perhaps not a total stranger.

Back off, Cleaver, or I'll report you to a sexual harassment tribunal.

I'm a serious journalist.

Is that your most serious skirt, Jones?

Oh?

Do you like it?

I thought you hated television.

I hate watching television. Being on it is...

Hello.

...an entirely different proposition.

Oh, Daniel, thought the Madrid piece was outstanding.

Full of insights, really original.

Oh, cheers, Jeremy. Thanks, mate. Yeah, I really appreciate that.

The lads worked really hard on that one. Yeah.

Tosser. Talking of which, how is Mark Darcy?

You still, you know... Yes, I am.

And I intend to be for a very, very long time.

Good, excellent. Well, you know what a fan I am of any woman married to Mark Darcy.

That's not funny.

Seriously though, Jones, I'm speaking purely unselfishly here.

I worry about you.

You do know it's an acknowledged fact that most lawyers' wives die of boredom?

And what about you? Still shagging anything that moves?

As a matter of fact, no. No. No shagging whatsoever.

I'm in shag therapy. Turns out I have a problem.

I go to meetings. I talk about my feelings, and I hug people who smell.

I don't believe you. I'm trying to be a better man, Bridge.

So that the next time a better woman comes along, I won't make a pig's ear of it.

Daniel, meeting? Yeah, yeah. Thanks.

Very good hair, Jones.

By the way, you're not free for dinner tonight, are you?

No, I'm not.

I'm going to the Law Council dinner. It's a very important evening.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

I can't wear that.

Bridge, do you want to get married and have babies before you become barren, or not?

Trust me.

BRIDGET: Magda. My only grown-up friend. Married to Mark's partner.

She actually got engaged on the night of the Law Council dinner.

Try it with the dress. BRIDGET: Oh, my God.

Remember we are trying to reduce your body size by 15%.

You hold the front, I'll hold the back. One, two, three.

(BRIDGET GRUNTING)

(BRIDGET SCREAMS)

What's going on in there?

It's not too bad, actually.

Tra-la.

Fantastic.

Right. Let us begin.

I am going to make you into a princess!

Goody.

BRIDGET: Nothing like being in the hands of a total genius.

Wow!

JUDE: Whatever you do, Bridge...

Bugger it.

...don't iron your hair.

JUDE: It's a lot worse than I thought, Bridge.

We could try flattening it down with Brylcreem.

What about a wig?

They're lawyers, aren't they? Lawyers love wigs.

I preferred you in the gold.

No. No, no. Whatever you do, definitely not the gold.

BRIDGET: Great. I'm late, with mad hair, and can barely breathe in scary knickers.

Oh, God, I'm very worried.

What if someone says, "Bridget Jones, get out of here. You are ridiculous"?

Stop it.

The most important thing, of course, is to look absolutely wonderful and make a magnificent entrance.

(ALL CHATTERING)

Hi.

Sorry I'm late.

Hello.

Bridget, I think you should go to the ladies' room.

But I went before I left home.

Trust me on this one.

Oh, not good.

BRIDGET: All right. Tiny makeup mistake.

But I always have wit and conversation to fall back on.

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

Thank you.

Bridget.

Hello.

Derek, Horatio, Camilla.

Horatio? Yes, Horatio.

Horatio was just saying he's totally against charitable giving.

(LAUGHS)

What?

Well, obviously you don't mean it.

Why, absolutely. You take a beggar on the street.

Do you think it's helpful to give him 50 pence?

Uh, maybe he's just hungry.

Don't be so naive.

The people you see outside the Tube every day are there by choice.

End of story.

Oh, no, it's not.

You see, some people have terrible personal problems, and other people might have lost their family in some, you know, tragic ferry disaster, and some people are just plain hopeless.

Honestly, this is the sort of rubbish you'd expect from some fat, balding Tory, Home Counties, upper middle-class twits.

(LAUGHS)

How did I do?

You seem to have made quite an impression.

Listen, I've put you next to Giles Benwick.

Oh, I'm not sitting next to you? MARK: No.

He's terribly nice, and his wife's just run off with one of the partners.

He probably won't mention it, but I thought you should know.

I always knew she was out of my league.

You see, there's the high-flyers, like Annabel and Mark Darcy, and there's the gorgeous girls, like Rebecca there, and there's the rest of us.

Like you and me, you mean?

Absolutely.

I mean, look at the state of us.

You and me stumbled into the VIP room by mistake, and it's only a matter of moments before they show us the door.

(GAVEL POUNDING)

QUIZMASTER: My lords, ladies and gentlemen, let the quiz begin.

(ALL CHATTERING)

Oh, goody. I love quizzes.

All those years of playing Trivial Pursuit are about to pay off.

Now I want to see your hands poised over those bells.

QUIZMASTER: Ready? Here we go.

What are something called customary freeholds?

(BELL DINGS)

MAN: Superior copyhold. QUIZMASTER: Yes.

What is the correct grace used in the Inner Temple for the second Mooting Night of Michaelmas term?

(BELL DINGS)

Yes.

(MAN ANSWERING IN MOCK LATIN)

QUIZMASTER: Very good.

What is an overreaching conveyance?

What is rack-rent?

When was Breach of Promise abolished?

QUIZMASTER: Define damnum sentit dominus.

Translate reddendo singula singulis into ancient Greek.

I believe this is the answer.

(BELL DINGS)

(SPEAKING IN MOCK LATIN)

QUIZMASTER: Absolutely correct.

(ALL CLAPPING)

QUIZMASTER: Now, for our final and deciding round, the category is contemporary culture.

(ALL GASP)

Who did the design for Princess Diana's wedding dress?

(BELL DINGS)

The Emanuels.

Correct.

Excellent, Bridget.

Name the character in Footballers' Wives who, in one memorable episode, set fire to her own breasts.

Chardonnay! QUIZMASTER: Correct.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

At this point, there are only two tables in contention and only one question left.

What was the name of Madonna's first UK single?

(BELL DINGS)

BRIDGET: It's Lucky Star.

QUIZMASTER: I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't quite hear that.

Are you absolutely sure about that? Wasn't it Holiday?

No, everyone always thinks it's Holiday, but in fact it's not.

My entire life has been leading up to this very moment.

Take that knife, slice off my head and boil it for supper if I'm wrong.

The correct answer is Lucky Star.

No.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

QUIZMASTER: The correct answer is... Is it Holiday?

Holiday, indeed. Yes. Absolutely...

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Something we've all been waiting for, the winners of the 42nd Annual Law Council Quiz are the Legal Eagles.

Lovely to see you, Bridget. Oh, yes. Thanks, Rebecca. Good night.

BRIDGET: Why didn't you speak to me all night?

MARK: But that's the whole point of those dreadful dinners.

But you talked to Rebecca and you talked to Horatio.

I'm never going to fit in with your friends.

Well, you certainly won't if you go on calling everyone

"balding, upper middle-class twits."

Well, they were balding, upper middle-class twits, except for the ones who had hair.

And I suppose you agree with them that poor people deserve to be poor.

Don't be ridiculous.

So now I'm ridiculous?

Well, yes, tonight you were a little.

Well, tonight you were an arrogant ass.

I think I may have made a terrible mistake inviting you and your folding underpants into my life.

Good night.

If you had asked me tonight, I'd have said no, anyway.

Asked you what?

Bridget?

Asked you what?

BRIDGET: Oh, God. I've done it. I've gone and done it.

One minute, you're closer to someone than anyone else in the whole world, the next minute, you're never going to see them again.

Please, please, please, please.

(SIGHING)

(PHONE DIALLING)

MARK: If you have a message for Mark Darcy, please speak after the tone.

(ANSWERING MACHINE BEEPING)

Hello. It's me. I'm really, really sorry.

(DOORBELL BUZZING)

Sorry. It's the door. Don't go away.

I have something really, really important to say.

(DOORBELL BUZZING)

Yes. Who is it?

It's me, Mark.

Oh, right.

Uh, just a moment.

I'm on the phone.

You're outside.

Look, I'll ring you later.

Unless you've come to chuck me once and for all.

In which case, bye and thank you and sorry.

(DOORBELL BUZZING)

Oh, God. Please don't chuck me. Don't chuck me.

If you have chucked me, please change your mind.

I'll behave much better in future.

On the other hand, if you haven't chucked me, please behave better next time we go out, stuck-up snob.

What do you want?

Well, I'd like to come up. You are, after all, my girlfriend.

Even though I shouted at you and called you an arrogant ass?

MARK: Unfortunately, yes.

You see, the problematic thing is, I love you.

What?

(ALL CHATTERING)

I said I love you.

I'm sorry. I missed that again.

(SHOUTS) I said I love you, for God's sake.

(ALL HOOTING)

All right. No need to shout.

I'll come down and let you in.

(ALL CHEERING)

You might be needing this in the future.

He said he loves me.

TOM: He said he loves you?

He said he loves me.

Right. Where is he now?

(WHISPERING) He's in the bedroom.

Go back in there, Bridge, and whatever you do, act completely nonchalant.

Bridget, you're staring at me again.

Sorry.

Listen, I know this evening didn't go exactly as planned, but there was a very important question I wanted to ask you tonight.

Oh, really? Yes.

I've actually been meaning to ask this for quite some time.

I've just never really found the right way to put it.

Darling Bridget,

would you like to go on a skiing mini-break?

Yes.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

BRIDGET: This is not just a mini-break.

This is a holiday in heaven.

Told a tiny lie about being an extremely experienced skier.

But honestly, how hard can it be?

(SIGHS)

Shall we?

BRIDGET: I know I'm going to like skiing a lot.

Very romantic. Very relaxing.

Right. Bar's going up.

No. What? Why?

(EXCLAIMS)

Um...

Uh...

BRIDGET: Oh, God.

Oh, God.

(YELLS)

(EXCLAIMS)

(PANTING)

(SCREAMING)

(GRUNTS)

Bridget!

Rebecca!

What are you doing here?

Didn't Mark tell you we were coming?

No. No, he didn't.

It was actually me who recommended the place.

You know, I've been coming here since I was 11.

Really?

BRIDGET: Three whole years?

Come on. Up you get.

Come on.

There you go.

You all right? Thanks.

Yes, fine, thanks. You sure?

Why is Rebecca here? Oh, God.

Well, I mentioned that we were coming, and she said why didn't they come, too, and I couldn't very well say no, could I?

Come on, you two. Let's crack on, shall we?

Actually, I might just sit this one out. You head on.

See you down there! You sure?

Absolutely. I'll be fine in a minute. All right. See you at the base camp, then.

BRIDGET: Bastard.

I can't believe he's left me.

(EXCLAIMS)

Oh, no!

Ooh.

BRIDGET: So, romantic getaway has turned into lawyers' reunion.

(HOOTING)

I can't believe we're already into group holidays after only eight weeks of total undisturbed sex.

Wait a minute.

No.

Eight weeks.

It couldn't be, could it?

Totally undisturbed.

Oh, God. I'm pregnant.

(SCREAMS)

And I'm going to die!

Help me!

Oh, my God!

I can't see.

Big bump!

Out of the way!

(CONTINUES SCREAMING)

Who's this?

An eccentric but rather exhilarating performance from a total unknown who is now solidly in the position for the bronze.

(SCREAMING)

I would like a pregnancy test, please.

A pregnancy test.

Ich bin possibly mit baby.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

I am on back and he machen sie Lieben with me.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

(ALL EXCLAIM)

Oh, no, no, no. No. No. No, I'm not pregnant.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

Maybe like this, but maybe like this.

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

Look, I'm a girl, and I met a boy.

Fräulein and I met "fräu-boy."

And possibly now mit baby. Uh-huh?

BRIDGET: Right, moment of truth awaits.

What if I am pregnant?

We must try not to get our hopes up too high.

Boyfriend and a baby seems just too lucky.

Bridget.

I have been looking everywhere for you. I thought you'd broken a leg or something.

Oh, God.

You're not...

I might be.

What if I were?

Well, I suppose...

To be quite frank, it'd be bloody fantastic. I mean, a little ahead of schedule.

Are you really pregnant? Well, give it three minutes.

What do you fancy, a boy or a girl? I don't know, it doesn't matter.

Although, I suppose I always had a fantasy of a son.

Another Mark Darcy. Or maybe something like Huck or River or some fabulous Hebrew name like Noah.

Anyway, I could teach him to play cricket and rugby and visit him at Eton on St. Andrew's Day.

Eton? Yes.

Darcy men have been going to Eton for five generations.

Well, my son's not going to be sent away from home, especially to some fascist institution where they stick a poker up your ass that you're not allowed to remove for the rest of your life.

I see.

I didn't mean you. No, of course not.

So what's the alternative?

Sleeping in his parents' bed and breast-feeding until he's a teenager whilst attending some progressive school where the entire day is spent singing Yellow Submarine and practising group masturbation.

Oh, you're absolutely right, it would be madness to allow a child to enjoy his education, or live with his parents.

What would be madness is to have a child at all if his parents can't have the slightest discussion about anything without one of them shouting at the other.

It's negative. Negative.

That's too bad. Yes, very sad.


Hey.

Perhaps we should go out for lunch tomorrow, get out of the grump.

Well, that's a very good idea in theory, but you made a family arrangement.

Oh, God.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Darlings!

I've had the fabulous idea of inviting your parents.

BRIDGET: Another one of Mother's culinary triumphs: everything in miniature.

Mini treacle tart, Admiral Darcy? No. No, thank you.

The mini spotted dick rather finished me off.

(ALL LAUGHING)

So, Mark, Bridget, when are you two lovebirds going to name the day?

Come on, Bridget, you must want to hear those ding-dong bells.

Well, we're certainly not thinking about that yet. Are we, Bridget?

No. God, no. Of course not.

DAD: Oh, good. Well, that's sorted.

So, Admiral, life on the high seas, how was it?

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

Did you mean that thing that you said? What thing?

You know what thing. No, I don't know what thing.

The "thing" thing.

Well, now, let's see, there are any number of things.

An afternoon full of all sorts of things, so I...

The thing where you said that you're not...

That you're not... Not even thinking about...

What's the matter? Let's get a drink.

I'm going to go to the loo, and then I'm going to come back, and then we're going to be civilised.

(PHONE RINGING)

MARK: If you have a message for Mark Darcy, please speak after the tone.

(MACHINE BEEPING)

Mark, it's Rebecca. Are you there?

Obviously not. Probably still out with Bridget.

Anyway, I hope lunch with the parents went well.

I'm sure you were dutiful and very polite, as usual.

Whatever. Anyway...

Look, maybe give me a ring when you get back.

I thought I might pop around for a nightcap.

But I suppose that's a silly idea. Bridget's probably there.

Sleep tight.

(MACHINE BEEPING)

Oh, Christ. What now?

Are you or are you not having an affair with Rebecca Gillies?

I won't dignify that question with an answer.

Right.

All I did was go to the loo.

MARK: Bridget!

Bridget, that's not your coat.

Right.

Bridget, what are you doing?

I read that you should never go out with someone if you can think of three reasons why you shouldn't.

And can you think of three? Yes.

Which are? Well, first up, I embarrass you.

I can't ski, I can't ride, I can't speak Latin, my legs only come up to here, and yes, I will always be just a little bit fat.

And you, you fold your underpants before you go to bed.

No. Hang on. That can't be a reason. No, it's not a reason, but you're not perfect, either.

You look down your nose at absolutely everyone, and you're incapable of doing anything spontaneous or potentially affectionate.

It feels like you're waiting to find someone in the VIP room who's so fantastic just the way she is that you don't need to fix her. Bridget, this is mad.

Perhaps you've already found her.

Do you want to marry me?

Look, I...

See, you can never muster the strength to fight for me.


BRIDGET: I can't believe I did that.


(SOULFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

(DOGS BARKING)


BRIDGET: Five weeks later.

Weight, 4,000 pounds.

I'm enjoying a relationship with two men simultaneously, the first called Ben, the other, Jerry.

Number of current boyfriends, zero.

Number of calls from ex-boyfriend...

(VOICE ON ANSWERING MACHINE) You have absolutely no messages.

Not a single one.

Not even from your mother.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

Hello, darling. I hope you haven't forgotten our lunch date.

BRIDGET: Of course I've forgotten it. I'm suicidally depressed.

Don't be silly, Bridget. Meet me at Debenhams at 12:00.

Mum, I thought we were going to have something to eat.

MOTHER: Patience, please. I've got a big surprise for you, darling.

What? Don't say "what," say "pardon."

Ta-da!

What do you think? Oh, my God.

Daddy and I are getting married. But you're already married.

We're doing it again. Reaffirming our vows.

You are going to be a bridesmaid, and absolutely everything is going to be lavender.

And when I say everything, I mean everything!

(GIGGLES)

BRIDGET: Oh, God. I'm never going to get married, and my sodding mum and dad are doing it twice.

(SOFT MUSIC PLAYING)

BRIDGET: Bloody know-it-all.

New York, the big, juicy apple, the city that never sleeps with the same person two nights running.

My favourite place in America, where Sex and the City isn't just a programme, it's a promise.

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

(WHISPERS) Sorry.

RICHARD: Oh, cheer up, Misery Gut. I have good news for you.

(CHUCKLING) Sure, right. What's the angle?

I interview some rocket scientist while he looks through my skirt with X-ray glasses?

No.

Although that is a bloody good idea.

No, the fact is the Smooth Guide is doing very well with women, but the network wants us to cast a wider net, thought we could use a smooth guidess. Me?

With Daniel Cleaver? It's the next logical step.

I think Thailand is first on the list. No.

I won't do it. Not now, not in a million years from now.

Excuse me? I am a top television journalist, not some boorish bint in a bikini. Really?

Those are strong words coming from someone who doesn't know where Germany is.

(ALL CHUCKLE)

Who told you that?

Cleaver. He said he couldn't be expected to go out with someone who thought Iran was David Bowie's wife, and who didn't know where Germany was.

Daniel Cleaver is a deceitful, sexist, disgusting specimen of humanity that I wouldn't share a lift with, let alone a job.

Oh, come on, Jones, there must have been something you liked about me.

Well...

You have a nice car, and quite nice manners outside the bedroom.

But that's about it.

And by the way, I know exactly where Germany is.

The question is, do you know the location of your asshole?

As a matter of fact, I do know the exact location of my asshole.

And hers, for that matter.

Oh, come on, Jones, it was just a silly joke. Not a very funny one.

Go on, then. What?

Where is it? Where's Germany?

Next to France. And?

And also Belgium and Poland, and it has a seacoast.

Which sea?

Oh, sod it. Now, look, I think we should have a serious talk about Finch's suggestion.

I'm going to Thailand, Jones. Wouldn't you like to be my little Girl Guide? Hmm?

Thailand?

He'll fucking shag you before you've left Heathrow.

I'll be perfectly fine.

I'm eschewing all men.

And cigarettes and carbohydrates.

We can't possibly let you go. On your own.

Oh, stop it, all of you.

I am a mature, sophisticated, professional woman, and I'm going to Thailand entirely on my own.

Thank you very much.

Fuck. Sorry.

Fuck it. Fuck. Fuck. Sorry.

(PA SYSTEM BEEPS)

(MALE VOICE) And now that our final passengers have joined us, we can get underway.

MAN: Glad you could join us. Someone's got to be the last.

(PASSENGERS CHATTERING)

BRIDGET: Are we not sitting together? Oh, fuck!

I don't think we're really in a position to make a fuss.

Sorry, hi.

Sorry.

(CHUCKLES)

What's your name? Mine's Clive. Uh, Bridget.

(BABY CRYING)

MAN ON PA: Good afternoon once again, ladies and gentlemen.

We're about to offer a wide range of duty-free items.

Details can be found in your in-flight magazine.

Wonderful people, the Thais.

Particularly the young ladies, if you know what I mean...

Oh! Oh, stop! Fuck!

Excuse me. Sorry. If you'll come with me, madam.

Just, come with me now.

Where are we going?

Thank you, this is worse than school.

It really wasn't my fault. It's a fizzy drink. You know, it just...

It just sort of fizzied over.

Couldn't bear to think of you back there in slum class, Jones.

Graham, thank you so much.

You are the best air steward I have ever come across in my life.

And if I may say so, the smartest. (WHISPERS) Thank you, sir.

I thought you were there already, doing research.

Fuck, no. I make it up as I go along.

Okay, Jones, we have 13 hours on this trip. I need some in-flight entertainment.

Why don't you tell me in detail the story of your school netball tour, with particular reference to the unsavoury incident in the communal showers?

I didn't play netball or go to a girls' school.

Or have showers.

Now, that's just not true, is it, Jones? Let me start you off.

No. Jones, if you're going to be dull, I'm just going to plunge straight back into Mrs. Dalloway.

And you know how she loves that. Dirty, dirty bitch.


(LOUD MUSIC PLAYING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

BRIDGET: Arrive Bangkok. Very hot.

Relieved at last to throw myself into serious journalistic work.

BRIDGET: Thailand has long called travellers from around the globe to take spiritual succour and karmic rest.

For centuries, Western visitors have been inevitably drawn to some of Bangkok's oldest sanctuaries.

So true, Bridget. Even I, fight it as I may, am no exception.

The moment I arrive here, I always feel an almost irresistible pull to this.

A Temple of Tranquillity.

Indeed, nothing symbolises Thailand's extraordinary fusion of East and West, of tradition and innovation, better than this: full body-to-body massage.

(SPEAKING THAI)

An incredible thing about Thailand is the amazing traditional cuisine.

I'm going to taste kapaluk, the ultimate delicacy.

(MAN SPEAKING THAI)

Oh, fuck! Fuck! Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Um... Hmm!

How about a lovely locust?

No, I can't. No, no, no.

Positively delicious.

Oh, God!

DANIEL: Now, that is Ko Panyi, which is the setting for a very famous Thai poem which I think you'd like very much, Jones.

It's all about a badly-behaved prince who finds true love with a beautiful and, as it happens, very slightly overweight princess.

You're teasing me.

I never tease about poetry.

"O, Suwannamali

"Why can you not see that I adore you?

"Why do you avoid and scorn me?

"If you cast me off and leave me, how shall I live another day?"

And you thought all I knew about Thailand was pussies and Ping-Pong balls.

You wouldn't sleep with him? No, of course not.

Absolutely not.

But he is clever.

Yes. Handsome.

Yes, he's also a dysfunctional, fucked-up, middle-aged lost boy.

Well, no one's perfect.

I didn't realise you were busy.

BRIDGET: He's young enough to be your grandson.

SHAZZER: I know. Isn't that great?

(JED YELLS)

Come on, guys.

I've got a very special treat lined up for lunch.

BRIDGET: I'm getting rather fond of Jed.

And I must say he has a genuine interest in Thai cuisine.

BRIDGET: I wouldn't have thought omelette would be a big thing in Thailand.

Or mushrooms, for that matter.

JED: Magic.

It is a magic mushroom omelette, isn't it?

(JED LAUGHING)

BRIDGET: That's awful.

There is nothing funny in this at all.

Although, thank God, the mushrooms don't actually seem to be working.

(FUNKY MUSIC PLAYING)

(GIGGLING)

Such lovely colours.

(GASPS)

Beautiful Bridget.

Beautiful Bridget. Beautiful Bridget.

Bridget Jones!

(DISTORTED VOICE)

What is he... (VOICE ECHOING) Bridget Jones!

What sound is that?

(ECHOING) It is Daniel Cleaver.

How unutterably beautiful he is.

Jones, what the hell are you doing?

You are lovely colours.

Yeah. Here I am.

I think you're completely off your face.

Hey!

Hang on.

(BRIDGET MOANING)

I'm an angel.

Lovely, glorious sand.

I want to be naked.

Naked as a baby.

Come on then, angel. Up you get.

(GRUNTING)

All right? Mmm-hmm.

DANIEL: So, how are you feeling? BRIDGET: Completely embarrassed.

Don't be. You're charming on drugs. In future, just say yes.

Do you know, I never really understood why you wanted to go out with me.

It seemed so unlikely.

Come on, Jones, for God's sake. You're sexy. You make me laugh.

At you, of course, not with you.

And you were, incidentally,

the best shag I ever had.

The best?

Well, aside from Simon Reade in the fifth form locker room, no.

Suppose I said you were pretty good, too?

Pretty good?

Was I better than Mark Darcy?

By the way, is it true he always says:

"I'm sorry, but I think I need to come"?

Who told you that? It's common knowledge, isn't it?

Come on, Jones.

Who gave who the hoof? And why?

Let's just say that we suffer from a fatal incompatibility.

I have missed you, Jones.

I don't suppose there's any circumstances under which you would ever consider thinking about trusting me again?

Absolutely not.

Well, I suppose I'll be getting back to my little hut now.

Thank you very much, Daniel. I had a nice time.

Is that the Big Dipper or the little one?

I can never tell them apart.

Definitely the big one.

You can't see the little one this close to the Equator.

Oh, please. You don't know about astronomy.

I most certainly do. Passion of mine.

You know, Jones, if stargazing is something that interests you, it has to be said that the view from my balcony is quite outstanding.

Perhaps you'd like to come up and have a bit of a look.

I don't think so.

See over there? Along my arm.

That's it. Over there.

That is Orion's belt.

And right next to that is a very sexy little constellation called Ursa's Maiden.

You see, she's being very naughty and trying to undo Orion's belt.

All right. What about that one?

Yes, well, that is a very, very famous star, right next to, of course, some...

I don't know, some other fucking star that's been there for years and years without anyone giving a toss.

Seen one star, seen the lot of them, that's what I say, Jones.

(CRICKETS CHIRPING)

Different with girls, though.

Some girls are special.

Are they?

I think so.

What is this special power you hold over me, Jones?

(SOFT MUSIC PLAYING)

What about your therapy?

I think you might be it.


Oh, God, I hope you're wearing those giant panties. Please.

(DANIEL KISSING)

Please be wearing the giant panties. Please.

(GASPS)

Oh, my old friends, oh, Daddy's home!

Did you miss me? Because Daddy missed you. Yes, he did.

Wait.

Sorry.

Can I just have a minute?

Just a minute.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

(DOOR OPENING)

(SIGHS)

Everything all right?

Yeah, sure.

Just a bit nervous.

I mean, you see, if I stay with you tonight, it's definitely the end of something important with someone.

Which has probably ended already, but...

Bridge, Bridge, Bridge. Bridge.

Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?

Hmm?

Except Hitler.

Well, he was very, very, very naughty.

(BRIDGET CHUCKLING)

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

What? What?

Uh, come back later, please. Thank you. Thank you very much.

(KNOCKING CONTINUES)

(DOOR OPENS)

Bridge, Bridge, it's nothing. Leave it. Leave it. Leave it.

You made order for 10:30.

Order for what?

Me. 10:30.

You know what? I've had it absolutely up to here with this hotel.

It's been cock-ups like this all week.

CALL GIRL: You Mr. Cleaver, right?

Yesterday you with Maria. She say you big tipper.

(MURMURS)

Then I'm up for it if you are.

Actually, no. That was stupid.

Bridge, come on, it's just one little slip. Don't let it get in the way of what was going to be a fantastic weekend shagathon.

I don't want a shagathon.

No... Nor do I. Nor do I. You're absolutely right about that.

You're looking for a weekend of sex, and I'm looking for...

For more. Just like you.

I feel I can change. I absolutely can change, Bridge.

I need to change. I can't believe I fell for it again.

Daniel, I really do think that you should go and fuck yourself.

Or her. But definitely not me.

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)

I can't fucking believe he made up the whole sex therapy thing.

Doesn't matter. I've finally learnt my lesson.

And it's an excellent lesson to have nailed.

Fuck! What?

There's no fucking room in the fucking suitcase.

Fine. There's room in mine. Here, give me something.

Great.

What the hell is this?

It is a fertility snake bowl.

Hmm.

Jed gave it to me.

How romantic.

BRIDGET: The way I look at it, in everyone's life there's a certain amount of shit.

That's true.

And in the last year, things have turned out pretty shitty.

Right. So logically, mathematically even, it's got to be time for something not shit.

Like what?

Well, maybe Mark will have chucked Rebecca.

Then he'll run to my door, fall to his knees, possibly wearing a wet white shirt, and beg me to come back.

Yes. I very confidently expect very, very good times ahead.

Look. He's too cute.

Hello. Hello.

Oh, he seems to be getting a bit excited.

(DOG GROWLS)

Oh?

Uh...

SHAZZER: Bridget. No, don't worry.

It's just a misunderstanding. Oh, my God.

Hold the plane! Hold the plane.

SHAZZER: Excuse me. Excuse me.

WOMAN ON PA: Remaining passengers, please report to Gate 27 immediately.

It's not mine.

These yours?

Yes. I mean, they're not my favourite pair or anything.

(SIREN WAILING)

You can't do this. I'm English, and an award-winning journalist.

Well, maybe not award-winning, but I have been to lots of award ceremonies.

(SIGHS)

Hello. Bridget Jones.

Lovely to meet all of you.

BRIDGET: Oh, my bloody God, and fuck.

I hope they've told the British ambassador.

Or surely Shazzer would have raised the alert.

Maybe they caught Shazzer as well.

(WOMEN CHATTERING IN THAI)

Oh, God, 28 hours.

How much longer?

POLICEMAN: Jones. Bridget Jone, you come now!

Charlie Parker-Knowles, Assistant Consul.

Thank God you are here.

Um, shall we...

I really had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Jed planned the whole thing.

That's why he snogged Shazzer, who's clearly much older than him and slightly past her peak.

Yes, he sounds the most frightful shit.

Hmm.

But the bore is, everyone who gets caught has exactly the same story.

So unless we find this Jed fellow and get a full confession, you are on a bit of a sticky wicket. Well, how sticky?

Something like 15 to 20 years.

Fifteen years? Yes, or maybe 10, you know, if we're lucky.

Ten years? In here?

(DOG BARKING)

BRIDGET: Very black.

All my life, I've had the feeling something terrible was about to happen.

Now it has.

(WOMEN SPEAKING THAI)

Beeshit, right?

Bridget, actually.

My name Phrao. You are my friend?

Steady on! Superbra!

You lend me one day to a cigarette?

(CHUCKLES) Oh.

Well, I'll think about it.

See, actually, I was thinking of giving up, but that was before I was arrested and thrown into a Thai prison for 10 to 15 years.

Circumstances change.

No, it really, really is "touched."

"Like a virgin, "touched for the very first time."

No, you wrong. No...

(SINGING) Like a virgin Virgin. Virgin.

Fucked for the very first time

- Like a virgin Like a virgin BRIDGET: Ten years of this?

Stop! Enough! Enough!

If you're going to do it, you really ought to do it properly.

After all, Madonna is nothing if not a perfectionist.

BRIDGET: Five, six, seven, eight, and one.

ALL: (SINGING) Like a virgin touched for the very first time Like a virgin Yes!

When your heart beats Next to mine

BRIDGET: Dear Mum and Dad, I'm missing you a lot.

Please write as soon as you can.

I'm feeling pretty low.

POLICEMAN: Beeshit Jone!

(WOMEN CHATTERING)

In there. You have five minutes. Just five.

(POLICEMAN SPEAKING THAI)

Mark?

You all right?

Oh.

Fine. Mmm.

And scared shitless. But, you know, perky.

I can't believe you've come all this way.

I haven't. I was out here handling a Foreign Office case when I heard about your situation.

I haven't done anything wrong.

I promise you it's all a big mistake.

Yes, I'm sure it is.

I've got all the papers here and I'm sure we can sort it out.

I think about you all the time.

And I'm so sorry, I really, really am, for everything that happened between us.

(CLEARS THROAT) Yes.

As we don't have much time, and I need you to identify someone for me.

Is this the man with whom you were seen taking hallucinogenic mushrooms before you spent the night in Daniel Cleaver's hotel room?

Yes, that's him.

But I think you should know...

And is he the same man who gave you the snake containing the drugs?

Yes, that's him. That's Jed. But it was Shazzer's snake, not mine.

And as far as Daniel Cleaver goes...

Your sex life doesn't concern me at all.

Has there been any ill treatment here? No. No.

Well, I mean, the toilet facilities are well below par, but...

Good, that makes things simpler.

(PAPERS RUSTLING)

Listen, they're prepared to drop all charges against you, which is extremely lenient, given the circumstances.

You're going to be out within a week.

And...

(EXHALES)

(FILE FOLDER ZIPPING)

Goodbye.

BRIDGET: Mark?

Thank you.

You're welcome.

I'm just the messenger. The order came from above.

Good luck. Glad I could be of help.

WOMAN 1: Beeshit. Beeshit. WOMAN 2: Beeshit. Beeshit.

So, Beeshit, what happened?

Well, I'm...

Beeshit? How this can happen?

This is terrible! They keep you here?

You are innocent.

They always cheating us.

No, no, no. No, that's all fine.

They've dropped the charges, and they're letting me go.

But that good news.

What is wrong?

Mark Darcy definitely doesn't love me any more.

(ALL EXCLAIM)

BRIDGET: You see, the trouble is that it was me who chucked him.

He treat you bad?

Yeah, actually he did.

My boyfriend treat me bad, too.

Me, too. Me, too.

Well, then you know all about it.

You think you've found the right man, but then there's so much wrong with him.

And then he finds that there's so much wrong with you.

And then it all just falls apart.

Don't tell me. My boyfriend, he seem really nice.

But then he start to hit me. He make me work on the street.

My boyfriend, he say he love me.

But he do no work. And make me work 24 hours a day.

Then he make me take heroin drug. What about you, Beeshit?

What your bad boyfriend do?

Well, uh...

He really didn't stick up for me at this lawyers' supper.

And then he would fold his...

Same sort of thing, really.

Hitting me and making me take drugs.

Stealing all my money, and stuff.

BRIDGET: Oh, God, I have been the world's biggest fool.

(CELL DOOR OPENS)

Beeshit?

Just a few tiny leaving presents, no luxuries.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

If you want something smooth to put on your wall, you could do a lot worse than John Currin.

He is just about the only contemporary painter who can actually paint.

He's usually got something interesting and allegorical going on.

Plus, of course, there is a very high perv quotient.

What's going on... Did you see her?

Cut. Cut it.

Sorry, everyone, sorry. It's my stalker.

Fuck off, Darcy. Some people have jobs to do, you know.

Did you see her surrounded by police? Dogs, handcuffs, that sort of thing?

Oh, come on, she's a big girl. She can take care of herself.

I'm only going to ask you one more time. Did you see her?

What do you mean, you're only going to ask me one more time?

You haven't got your wig on now, do you? I'll take that as a yes.

Yes, I did see her.

I don't know, I thought she was smuggling seashells or mangoes, something like that.

Right. Right. Good.

Will you step outside, please?

No, no, it's not possible.

Darcy, do you have any idea what century we actually live in?

Are you gonna step outside or am I gonna have to drag you?

You're gonna have to drag me.

(BIRD SQUAWKS)

You're fucking pulling...

I'm doing... You're gonna pay for this.

You're pulling my hair!

Look, you're going in the sodding water!

(BOTH GRUNTING)


MARK: You're going in, Cleaver.

I'm going in? You're coming with me. Bloody bastard.

(PEOPLE EXCLAIMING)

(BOTH GASPING)

What are you gonna do now? Drown me in 16 inches of water?

Yes, certainly.

Fuck! Stop. Stop.

Listen, listen, listen. Listen!

Okay. I left her at the airport. I shouldn't have done that.

But she bumped into Jed herself.

And I didn't fucking well seduce her, all right?

You didn't?

There's something wrong with her. She's gone all frigid.

I spent the night with a gorgeous Thai girl, who in fact turned out to be a gorgeous Thai boy.

Satisfied?

Yes. Thank you.

You know what, mate?

If you're so obsessed with Bridget Jones, why don't you just marry her?

'Cause then she'd definitely shag me.

God.

REPORTER: Bridget. Over here. Bridget, will you be going back?

(ALL CLAMOURING)

The Thai jail, what was it like? WOMAN: How did you survive?

Well, any girl who's been single in London knows how to handle herself when things get rough.

Darling!

Sorry I didn't write. I've just been so busy.

Hello, darling.

You look lovely. Skinny, but lovely.

Thank you.

It's good to be home.

Ciggy? Oh, no, thanks. I've given up again.

Shame. I find them very useful.

I take great comfort in the fact that they might kill me before things actually get worse.

The Darcys rang to say how pleased they were you were out.

I rather thought Mark might be here to meet you.

Yes, but you must remember we split up.

So no hope there?

No hope there.

But believe me, next time I will not fuck it up, Mum.

Language, darling. Sorry.

Next time I will not fuck it up, Mother.

(CHUCKLING)

(POP MUSIC PLAYING)


Thanks, Dad. Bye-bye, poppet.


ALL: Surprise! Surprise!

Hello. Hi, doll.

How are you? Hi.

Bridget, I'm so sorry.

It's all right.

Well, thank God for Mark Darcy.

I mean, he might be a boring ass, but he performed a miracle.

That's a bit of an overstatement.

He actually seems to be the villain of this piece.

He's a top human rights lawyer, and he left it to someone else to get me out.

He was just a messenger.

TOM: Who told you that?

He did. Straight from the horse's mouth.

I'm afraid the horse wasn't quite telling you the truth.

I called Mark the minute I got off the plane in London.

We, all of us went down to his office, and within half an hour he'd woken up two cabinet ministers and half of MI5.

But none of them could locate Jed, so Mark flew over to Interpol...

Which is in Lyon. They located Jed in Dubai, but there was a problem.

They don't normally extradite people from there.

So Mark had to ring up the Home Secretary, who rang up our ambassador...

In Riyadh. And then Mark flew to Dubai, where he identified Jed, who was then impounded, pushed out of the country into...

Saudi Arabia, where Mark was waiting with the police.

Jed was arrested, Bridge, and extradited back to Britain.

Then Mark flew to Bangkok to make damn sure they let you go.

Oh.

He was just angry about Daniel Cleaver.

He must still love me.

He fucking must. Taxi?

Yes, please.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

(ALL YELLING)

ALL: Hurry! Bye! Bye!

Bye!


Oh.

I forgot about you.

(STAMMERING) I just wanted to say something to Mark.

He's at the office. Do you want to come in?

Oh, no. Oh, no, I don't think I will.

I really hope that you'll be happy together.

Sorry? You and Mark.

I really hope that you'll be very happy together.

No, no, no, Bridget, listen. You've got it completely wrong.

I'm not in love with him.

How could I be, when I'm totally heartbrokenly smitten with someone else?

Someone else?

You, Bridget. Me?

Ever since I saw you here with your hair messed that night and bits of garden stuck to you.

You must have noticed. I tried to hide it, but every time I see you, I light up.

I thought you were just, you know, lying.

Was every look I ever gave you a lie?

I have been so looking forward to meeting you.

Lovely to see you, Bridget.

Uh...

Thank you very much.

That was lovely.

Really lovely.

But I'm afraid it's still men in general, and Mark Darcy in particular, that I love.

Right.

If I ever do decide to, you know, bat for the other side,

there's no one else. Only you.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

Hello, Giles. Hello, Bridget.

Inns of Court, please. All right.

Fast as you can.

What do you think of this jacket?

Very nice, indeed. No, be honest.

What do you think of the whole jacket-trouser combination?

Disaster.

BRIDGET: Actually, could we take a tiny detour?

I'll be back in literally two seconds!


Oh!

(SOULFUL MUSIC PLAYING)


You look gorgeous. Thank you.

Very important at this moment.

(SCREAMS)

Doesn't matter. It's not about looks.

As I was saying...

Excuse me. I'm looking for Mr. Darcy.

Down there, right along the corridor, and just to the left.

Thank you very much.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

I love you. I always have, and I always will.

Oh, um...

I don't love you, and I never have. And I never will.

Sorry.

Come in.

Hello, Bridget.

Hello, Mark.

I'm sorry. I'm disturbing you.

Well, yes, a bit.

I'll just sit outside while you finish.

No, no, no, please. Say what you have to say, young lady.

Mr. Santiago is the Peruvian Secretary for Trade.

And Mr. Hernandez is his Number Two.

Hello. Hello.

(CHUCKLING) Hello. Hello. Hello.

How can we help you, young lady?

Well, uh...

I just wanted to tell Mr. Darcy here that I heard what magnificent work he actually did releasing me from prison.

Tiny, tiny misunderstanding, to do with an enormous stash of cocaine.

And I also wanted to say, since having found out that his girlfriend is actually a lesbian, (ALL WHISPERING)

that I love him.

Always have.

Always will.

And that I'm, you know, available for dates, if he should feel so inclined.

So your girlfriend is a lesbian?

Look, if you'd all just excuse us for a sec, I think we should...

Bridget, that was not the most romantic proposition I've ever heard.

Well, maybe it is romantic because it's not.

I mean, I know there's no music playing and it's not snowing, but that doesn't mean that it can't really be something.

You're right.

In fact, there's a question I've been meaning to ask you.

All right. As long as it's not, "Will you marry me?"

Oh, God. It is, "Will you marry me?"

Well, I'm not gonna say it now. You just spoiled the moment.

Is it, "Will you marry me?" Bridget, the moment's gone.

No, no, no, wait. Wait.

Bridget... No. Start again.

Start again. No, I'm not gonna just...

We've just stepped out into the corridor and you say, "I've got a question to ask you."

And I don't say anything.

And then, you say...

Bridget Jones, will you marry me?


MINISTER: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this day to unite this couple.

Do you affirm your love, one to the other?

I do. Again.

And Colin? I do. Again.

As well. Of course.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

BRIDGET: December 31. Year-end summary.

Prison stays: one. Lesbian kisses: one.

Pounds lost: Minus one.

Boyfriends lost, but then regained following major diplomatic incident: one.

Marriage proposals: one.

An excellent year's progress.

Bridget Jones has cocked things up for the very last time.

(ALL WHOOPING)

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

(ROMANTIC MUSIC PLAYING)

(ALL SIGH)


BRIDGET: So as you can see, I've found my happy ending at last.

And I truly believe that happiness is possible.

Even when you're 33 and have a bottom the size of two bowling balls.