All language subtitles for The.Outlaws.S02E02.1080p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-NTb

Comms. This is DS Haines from
Bristol and Avon, I'm looking for

information on an alias known as
The Dean. I'll call you back.

What was you thinking? She was
thinking how she can save our lives.

By promising we'll pay every penny
back in eight weeks,

with interest, washed and folded?
That can't be done!

But you...you're a drug dealer,
you're rich, aren't you?

Shut up! You don't know me.
Look around.

My crib is a garage at
the end of my mum's garden.

You have things. Your TV,

those trainers,
you could sell your car.

"Hello, Mr Dean,
here's a second-hand Range,

"and a flatscreen TV. We good?"

And I got a family to provide for.

What I earn goes on my fam.

Six is a lot of mouths to feed.
And are you forgetting

the feds nailed me for making you do
my Community Service?

If they send me to pen,
and we ain't paid,

The Dean will have his people inside
do me a ting, straight.

You didn't save our necks,
you put 'em in a noose.

Maybe I can ask my parents for help.
They rockin' that kind of money?

No. But, I don't know,
maybe they can raise it.

If we get them involved,
we make them complicit.

Do you have a better idea, then?

Yeah. We go to the feds.

Man ain't makin' no deal with
the feds.

What choice do we have?
We lay it out there.

We tell the feds,
and let them protect us.

Man ain't snitchin'! It's better
than digging your own shallow grave.

He's right. I have the number of
a policewoman we could call,

and then we can just finish this.

Haines. Hi, this is Rani Rekowski.

Rani. How are you?

Well, that's why I'm calling.

OK.

I just had something important
I needed to tell you.

But I'm not sure I should be telling
you on the phone.

What's this about?

Rani? Are you still there?

Can you give me a second, please?

Hello? Rani,
what did you want to tell me?

I wanted to tell you that
I'm completing my payback hours,

and I'm staying out of trouble,
keeping my head down.

Glad to hear it.

OK. Thanks. Bye.

Rani? Comms. You're enquiring about
The Dean?

Yes. Yes, I was. That information's
classified,

you don't have clearance.
Clearance?

Thank you for your enquiry.

Say something!

I say we don't pay,
call his bluff, boom.

He knows where we live,

and my family, and Ben's sister.
"Boom!"

He's already threatened
to hurt them.

Same if we go to the police.

Look, we have eight weeks.

You three have to get
the money back.

I've told you, we've spent it!
On what?

The Bristol Justice Collective.

Still don't understand what it is
revolutionaries actually need,

by the way, apart from berets
and some twat on a guitar.

A new website, new minibus,
new staff, new offices.

15 types of milk, probably.

Oh, right, and what did you spend
yours on?

I put mine into my business,
as you well know.

The one you that just got fired
from? Great save!

What did you spend your cut
on, Frank?

My daughter's mortgage.
It was killing her. I had to help.

So you haven't helped her in
40 years,

but you couldn't wait eight more
weeks to grow a conscience?

You guys are just going to save

yourselves and let our loved ones
die?

Christian Taylor.

What about him?

If he has to do jail time,
for making Ben do CS,

he won't be around
to run his drug operation.

We are not becoming drug dealers.
Absolutely not!

I've done some grifts in my time
but not that.

Tell me it isn't a good way
to make big money fast!

Rani!

It's eight weeks
and then it's over. Why not?

Because drugs have ruined
the lives of everyone I've loved.

No-one is dealing drugs, OK?

Jeez, I'll get another
loan...somehow.

I'll have to ask Margie for
the money back...somehow.

I'll see...I'll see what I can do.

Sir, you wanted to see us?

How many times have you called
Comms today? I haven't.

You? About five or six times.

Well, which, is it - five or six?
Six?

12 times. You've been red-flagged.

Red-flagged? For pestering them
about someone called The Dean,

even though you've been repeatedly
told to stand down.

Now stand down.

With respect, sir,
why am I being stonewalled?

You are treading on
Scotland Yard's size tens.

The Dean is London, big-time,
tied to international syndicates.

For two years the Met have been
tracking him, building a case.

So why haven't they arrested
him, then?

He's got good tradecraft.

Never handles product
or money directly,

impossible to pin him
with anything. We can help.

He's running county lines into
Bristol.

If that were the case,
the Met would know about it.

Would they, if The Dean's so
careful?

And it's not like they share intel
with us, so we wouldn't know.

What have you got?

The Dean has a local foot soldier
called Christian Taylor.

Taylor's about to do time for
violating probation. My hunch is,

if we can flip him,
he could give us The Dean.

But my hunch is that you're
ambitious and think that if you can

nail someone the Met can't, that's
your ticket out of Bristol.

I won't apologise
for being ambitious, sir,

but if we do land
The Dean, that's national news,

and we all take a bow.

If your snooping blows
London's case,

we'll spend the rest of our days
shooing seagulls off Bristol Docks.

Is that how you see your future?

I stand by my partner, sir.

Just to confirm, are you telling us
to stand down, sir?

I'm telling you tread carefully.

I hope you know what you're doing,
I hate seagulls.

They're like rats with wings.

Hmm.

Are you going to talk about it?

Hmm? Last night, you walked out on
our dinner party.

Yeah, sorry.
I had to...pop back to the office.

At ten o'clock? Will you...?
Stop doing that, look at me.

What is going on with you?

I...I realised, you know I've been

working this job for 19 years?

19 years. I mean,
Christ, when I first started,

personal assistants were still
called secretaries,

you know? You could still ask 'em
to make you a cup of tea

and not wind up in a tribunal.
19 years.

I mean,

that is a lot of dress-down Fridays

and signing birthday cards.

And that's why,

yesterday, we decided
that...I need a change.

"We? Dad and I, yeah.
We talked it through, and, erm...

..I'm getting a new job.
I'm going to get a different job.

A job that's for me.

What job? I don't know yet.

I've got feelers out

and I am excited
for this new chapter. Buzzing!

You didn't think you ought
to discuss this with me?

I AM discussing it with you, I'm
discussing it with you right now.

This is going to impact
us financially. No.

School fees... No. ..the ski trip.

No. Listen, because I am going to
take my 19 years

of management experience

and I will breeze into another job.

John, did your father fire you?

What? No. That's ludicrous.
You can tell me if he did.

I would. He didn't. It was...mutual.

Listen, I'm doing this,
I'm doing something for me.

For us, OK? I mean,

I thought you'd be happy for me.

You know I'm happy if you are.

Well, I'm happy.

So we're both happy.

What are you doing?
I've decided to give up booze.

But that's my booze and I haven't.

Greg, while I'm living here
I can't have any temptation around,

which is why...

..I need you to hide this for me.

What is this, flour?
You going gluten-free as well?

That's cocaine. Cocaine?
What, did you buy the family size?

Look, just hide it, OK?
And whatever I say to you,

do not give it to me - no matter how
much I beg you, don't give in, OK?

OK. Did you speak to my agent?

I did.

And does she have a job for me?

No. Nothing?
No adverts or sponsorship?

Greg, I need some money, you told me
that I was going bankrupt.

I know but you're seen as unreliable
since you called that soda machine

the C word. It WAS a cunt!

Other products don't want to be
associated with you. I'm edgy.

No, you're toxic. Toxic's cool.

It used to be, but now celebrities
need to seem nice.

You've got to show empathy
and cellulite.

And also, some people are saying...

What? ..that you've got anger
issues.

Who's saying that?
I'll kill the fuckers!

There's also the substance abuse.
Which I am working on.

Look, just give me my coke back.
You told me not to. That was before.

Now I need a bump. Give it to me.
No, you said, whatever you say

to me, don't let you have it.

Give me the bag, you speccy twat.
Give it to me!

Argh! Argh!
This is not the real you speaking.

Yes, it is, you rake with a face!
Not the tickling!

Give it to me.

Don't, and I'll get you a job.
You said no-one would employ me.

Give me 24 hours and I'll find
you something.

Yeah? Come on, please, stay strong.

Sorry for calling you
a bug-eyed beanpole.

Well, it was "speccy twat"
and "rake with a face".

Either way, I'm sorry.

I need a drink. Sorry.

Can I have a word?

Remember when you asked me where
the cash for all of this came from?

I thought it was our mystery donor?

Yeah, well if I tell you who it is,

then you can't tell anyone.
It's Lady Gabriella Penrose-Howe.

That posh woman who's always falling
out of nightclubs?

All right, keep your voice down.
Why is she interested in the BJC?

I thought her kind were only
interested in bottle service

and lip filler. Well, she deeply
respects me and my organisation

and she wanted to make
a sizeable donation to support it.

I misjudged her.
Yes, you did.

But now she needs all
the money back. What?

You know what the landed gentry are
like - fickle.

We've spent the money.

Well, we'll have to un-spend it.

We've got a year's lease on this
place. Full-time staff on payroll.

You're saying it like it's my fault.
We all voted for those things.

Because you promised you could keep
us financially independent.

That's why we turned down
a council grant.

Yeah, and you're going to
need to go to the council

and say that we want the grant after
all. That ship's sailed, Myrna.

Well, we can still get
the money back, can't we?

We can, erm, we could sell the
minibus and those ergonomic chairs.

Stop bouncing, please.

And I always said we don't need
the Reiki guy full-time.

Myrna, those are just the things
you can see.

We would have to liquidate
the organisation to get

the money back.
The BJC will cease to exist.

Dad, we're in here!

Margie,
we need to discuss something.

You paid off the mortgage.

Ta-da!

As of this morning.
And there was money left. There was?

So I set up a college fund
for the kids.

Do the kids even want to go
to college? I do.

It's Johnnie Walker Red.
That's your tipple, isn't it?

Mum's made your favourite,
too, meatloaf.

Well, it's sort of shepherd's pie
that I've squeezed into a loaf.

It's the thought that counts.

Well, it's the deed that counts,
too. Thank you so much, Dad.

It's the least I can do.

What was it you that you want to
discuss?

Nothing urgent.

MUZAK PLAYS THEN STOPS

Mr Halloran? Yeah. Hello, yes.
Hello? I'm here. Hello?

Can I confirm, you said you're not
currently employed - is that right?

I am currently in-between jobs,
yeah, but, as I said,

I have 19 years
of management experience

and I'm confident that I will find
fresh employment very soon.

Yes. I've checked with my
supervisor,

but we can't grant you a loan.
I'm sorry.

Why not? You have no employment,

you're heavily mortgaged on
your assets

so we just can't proceed.
I'm sorry.

Do you remember when banks like
yours went tits-up in 2008

and it was taxpayers like me that
bailed you out?

No, sir, I was only six years old.

Well, it's absurd, you know,

it's absurd that
I'm standing here today

and a businessman like me can't get

a loan from your bank!
But if this were 2007,

and I was an unemployed single
mother with three kids

and a crack addiction, I'd have

walked out of your place with a
mortgage and a fucking balloon!

Is there anything else
I can help you with today, sir?

Like she said,

we're only in it for eight weeks
and then we're done.

Men like this guy from
London exploit local kids,

I know that, but I'll get
to know those kids,

and then, when this is over,
I can help them.

If I don't do this, people will get
hurt. If I dissolve the BJC,

the community will get hurt.

40 years' work
wiped out like that.

And I will have killed a man...

..for what? Your whole life,
my life...

..for nothing.

If we did do what you suggested,
how would it work?

What?

The plan you suggested.

I don't know. We'd meet with Taylor,
find out how he operates.

Eight weeks, right?

We just do what is necessary
and then we're out.

And absolutely no violence.

Of course. Thank you.

We're not doing it.

Do you all know what drugs have done
to my mum?

I understand how you feel.
No, you don't. You don't,

or you wouldn't have suggested it
in the first place.

I wish I didn't have to, but...
You have no idea.

My whole life, you have no idea
what I've had to do

to stop from going down that path.
What option do we have?

We make as much money as we can in
eight weeks then we walk away.

A brief, terrible episode
in all our lives.

I'd never do anything
to hurt you, but The Dean will.

I'm scared. I'm really scared.

And I don't want to die.

All right. So we raise the funds.

How do we launder it?

Guess who's back.

Oh, it's not fucking Beryl, is it?

Aye. Oh, I hate that old bitch.

Greg, listen, mate, we need you.

I'm not doing any more
money laundering.

I got really stressed last time
and my eczema broke out.

I was scratching my groin
so much I got thrown out of Nando's.

High pockets,
we're all friends here,

and that's why nobody wants
to remind you about

a certain cupboard
of chaos which, if exposed,

would leave you up shit creek
with your dick in your hand.

Ah, well, actually, my dick's

already up shit creek in someone
else's hand.

What does that mean?

It means a bloke I work with called
Spencer Fitzwilliam already found

my cupboard of chaos and has been
blackmailing me with it

and making my life hell.
So join the queue.

Westside. Westside?

Leave it to me.
I can change his mind.

You take over? Is she serious?

We need to make money, fast.
You've a way of doing that

but who's going to run things
for you when you're in prison?

Not you. Then who?
Because Souljah's betrayed you,

Spider's out of action,

now your whole crew's just some
little boys on BMXs.

Whoa, whoa, wait.

We don't even know I'm set for
a stretch.

You said this lawyer
of yours is good, right?

I didn't say he was good,
I said he was free.

Nah, I ain't handing you my line.

Why not? Because I don't trust you.
We're the only ones you CAN trust.

Have you ever heard the phrase "the
enemy of my enemy is my friend"?

Was it the same guy who said, "How
much wood would a woodchuck chuck"?

I spent my whole life trying
to stay out the game.

You think I want to be
a part of anything you do?

We're all in this together whether
we like it or not... Nah, G. You do

you, and I'll take care of myself.

Oh, really? Because last night, you
were this close to being dead

before I stepped up,
and if you don't start trusting me,

none of us are getting
out of this shit alive!

What do you even know about running
a line?

Nothing, but I'm a quick learner.

Swear down, you fuck me on this,

and I will Shawshank my way out of
pen so fast...

All right, what do you want to know?

Everything.

All right, listen,

cos I don't like repeating
myself. You know what this is?

That is a mobile phone.

Wrong. It's THE phone, the line.

Contains numbers
for all my customers.

So every day I ping out a message,

"Open for business all the time.

"For what you need, call the line".

Now what? We wait.

You making notes?
Yeah, it's just a lot to...

You keep everything up here.

Sorry.

Yo, what do you need? Where you at?

What are you wearing?
All right, soon come.

So you take the order
and then what?

Then - important, you use
a different phone

to call whatever runner you think
is closest.

Yo, Biggs. One bag of beans,
Elswick Rd.

The guy's wearing a navy-blue
tracksuit. You got that? All right.

And Bingo was his name, yo?

Could we meet some of the runners?

What's he doing here?

This is our business adviser.

There's some of my runners.

Jesus, they look barely out
of nappies.

I recognise that blonde girl.

She goes to school with my sister!
This is so wrong, man.

Don't judge. They're only doing it

to feed their families,
same as me.

What are you doing?
Never exit the vehicle. Basics.

Mm, basics.

OK, so how much does a runner get
paid?

About 80 quid.

Standard? For everybody?

Depends how much they sell.
Or, if they owe money,

it's set against that.

Yo, man pulled up.
Send 'em away and come here, innit?

What are we doing? We're doing what
we have to do. What is happening?

Oi, you lot. Piss off.

The boy who just left took the food,

so if the feds are watching,

they can't link shit directly
to me.

What you saying, big man?

Wagwan, buddy, you all right, yeah?

Cash total.

OK.

Anyone complaining about
the quality of the food?

Nah, cuz.

OK, I think I can get
the business side of things down,

but that dialect, it's going to take
a bit of work.

Anyone watching you? Nah, man.

Anyone else selling? Nah.

No trouble? Uh-uh. Nah?

Nah, man.

Four? There should be five!

Bruv, we sold 400.

Yo, big man...

..you know what happens if you start
lying to me, right?

Yeah, I do, bro, and I ain't lying.

Yeah?

In a bit.

What was that about?

Nothing.

You got to make 'em sweat every now
and then, innit?

And what if he HAD been lying?

Trust me, he knows better than that.

You've never seen Jaws?

No, I've never seen Jaws.

I have seen Jaws 2, 3 and 4, though.

Oh. Chap. Tide's out.

We take it in turns.

So how do you manage
staffing levels?

I only take on people when demand
is steady,

otherwise you're just paying for
employees when you don't need them.

Yeah? Good. Yeah,
I wish I'd done that.

Got quite the business brain.
You pick it all up on the street?

Yeah. Oxford was full, innit?

So what have your net profits been
over the last three years?

I've been even at 200K.

But business isn't
growing, though,

is it? You know, they say that

a business that isn't progressing
is regressing.

That's the big mistake I made.

Yeah, I know that.
I need to mix it up, man.

Can't you move into other markets?

I can't just pick and drop my

runners off in another part of
Bristol.

That's where the problems start.

Well, you're definitely a natural.

You ever think about legitimate
work? I think you'd go places.

Is it safe?

What?

Is it safe?

Is what safe?

Special Agent Robert Stack,
Federal Bureau of Investigation.

V funny, chap, but you're
a bit old to be a strip-o-gram.

How much are the lads
paying you?

Your name is Spencer Fitzwilliam.

You're a lawyer at
Northcott Marling, correct?

What's this about?

On three,
leave your wrap on the bench,

stand, and follow me.

One, two...three.

Can I see your badge again, mate?

We need to talk about
the biggest co-ordinated response

to international money laundering in
FBI history.

Money laundering?

Keep your goddamn voice down.
Come on, chap, is this a joke?

Joke? See that guy?
That's my colleague,

Agent Jack Webb.

He spent two years travelling across
four continents tracing corrupt

bankers and bogus accounts
with ties to organised crime.

Agent Webb missed his own
mother's funeral.

Ask Agent Webb if this is a joke.

What's this got to do with me?

Your firm has been compromised.
Are you clean?

Am I what? Are you clean?

Yeah, yeah, I'm clean. Then why are
you impeding our investigation?

I...I'm not.

We have the co-operation of
an informant in your office.

He's been collating paperwork as
part of our evidence.

I believe that paperwork is now in
your possession.

Greg? Greg's a mole for the FBI?

Keep your goddamn voice down.
Never say that out loud again.

Who put you up to this?
Was it Grunter?

Or Nadger? I bet it was Nadger,
wasn't it?

Sometime soon, law enforcement will
be walking into your place of work

and marching people out
in handcuffs!

Ask me again if I'm joking.

Where's the paperwork?

Yes, the... Do you speak English?

Yes...yes. Where's the paperwork?
It's in my car.

Easy. Let's go. OK.

Rita, knock, knock. Greg.

I wonder if I can have
a quick chat with you about

a hypothetical HR scenario?

Erm, I'm actually on my lunch hour
at the moment, Greg.

I can come back.

No, it's fine, HR's always open.

OK, thank you, thank you.
Come on in.

Erm... Do you mind just sitting down
there, please, Greg? Cos it's

a bit - looming over me like a
ghost. Yeah, sorry.

Just wondering if, hypothetically,
a gentleman who works in

the office has had
conversations with

a woman who also works in
the office.

OK. Work conversations?

Sometimes work, you know,
but other just general chit-chat.

About what?

The weather, rambling in
the Peak District.

Roger Federer's thighs. Erm...

Where have these conversations
taken place, please?

Different places. Erm, lift,

kitchen, sometimes at the woman's
desk.

OK. Has the gentleman in question
perched on

the lady's desk at any point?

There might've been a perch.

Mm-hm? Just hop up there for me
a moment, would you, please?

Right. So you can see what's
happening here? Hmm?

What's happening? What's the lady's
having to look at when

the gentleman sits like that on
her desk.

The gentleman's groin is at
the lady's eye level.

OK. Pop yourself back down,
please, Greg.

This is ringing
a lot of alarm bells.

Erm, is the gentleman superior to
the lady?

No, he's got very low self-esteem.

No, I mean in job title or rank.

Well, I think he's marginally
superior, I think.

Right. Yeah.
That will put him in the red zone.

And what is a red zone?

The red zone is where HR would have
to consider the man's position.

Oh, wow. Blimey.

Just to be totally clear,
hypothetically, the man

couldn't make any kind of overture
to the woman?

What, in the hope of
a sexual relationship?

Yes, please.
No, absolutely not, no.

So he couldn't, say, ask her out for
a drink or anything?

No, definitely not.
If this guy works here,

which it sounds like he does,
whoever he may be, then he would

have read our company policy on
sexual and romantic relationships.

What if he started reading that
and he found it heavy going,

so instead, he watched some golfing
bloopers on YouTube?

Well, then he won't know that even
consensual relationships between

colleagues can lead to disciplinary
action or dismissal.

Dismissal?

Hi, Greg, I'm grabbing a sandwich.
Do you want one? No!

This is all of it? Yeah.

I assume I don't
need to tell you that everything

I've said is confidential.

You don't even discuss it
with Greg Dillard.

You've got them now, so come on,
tell me, is this real, or what?

Stay in Greg Dillard's
good books, though,

cos when the shit hits the fan

and he starts pointing fingers,

you don't want him pointing at you.

Now you need to call me a cab.

Yes, yeah, of course.
Do you want an Uber XL or Lux?

Yeah, we'll go Lux.
A bit nicer for you.

Seven minutes.

I ain't pleading guilty, bro.

Then you'll do twice
the prison time. Listen, I got too

much stuff going on right now to be
sitting in a prison cell.

You violated your probation,
you're going down,

there's nothing I can do about that.

What I can do is reduce
the amount of time you do.

Tea? Can I make you one in a minute?

I'm just in the middle
of something.

Sorry, I'm asking,
would you like a cup of tea?

Yes, please.
Pleasure, chap. Would you like one?

Got any ginseng?

All right,

so how long am I looking at if
I plead not guilty?

A year, maybe two. But plead guilty,

I can get that down to
a few months. A few months?

What kind of waste man lawyer,
are you?

Bad news, no ginseng.
But I do have mint,

green, lapsang souchong,

oolong, or lemon ginger
and manuka honey.

Surprise me.

Biscuit? Biscuit?

I'll have a biscuit.

No, I'm good, bro.

One biscuit for Gregolas, my liege.

So what are you going to do?

High-pockets,

you were up shit creek
but I found you a paddle.

You got it back? Thank you, thank
you so much.

Comes with a few strings attached.
I knew it would, I knew it would,

when you presented it like a quiz
show. I'm not doing any more

money laundering, I told you that
already. I can't handle another

criminal conviction or another
flaky crotch, so do your worst.

I'd rather take my chances.
Fine! Here, take it.

But...say goodbye to Rani and Ben.

Why, you leaving early? Half day?

No, they're dead.
You just killed them.

What are you talking about?

This gangster up in London,

we need to repay back all his dough
and wash it,

or he's going to clip them
and everybody they care about.

Clip them? Who's this gangster -
Edward G Robinson?

We're behind the eight ball here.
We need your help. Is he serious?

Yeah.

I thought the money was spent?
We're going to earn it back.

How? Running Christian Taylor's
operation while he's inside.

Jesus Christ!
None of us want to be doing this.

No.

We're in trouble, mate. Big trouble.

Good. OK.

All right, so his customer base
is loyal, but it's small.

If we're going to make anywhere near
the money we

need to make in the time we have,
we need to find new markets,

new customers, and we need to
do it quick.

How do we do that? Marketing.

Marketing? Yeah. We have to find
people who would buy drugs, and we

need to let them know that we are
here and we are open for business.

Oh, what, so we just put an advert
in Yellow Pages, yeah?

"Class A drugs available".
Oh, no, I tell you what,

let's put, "Class AAA," and then
we'll go straight to the front.

Obviously, we can't run adverts.

How do companies normally
reach customers?

Direct marketing.
But that involves mailing lists,

names, numbers, email addresses.

BJC must have a mailing list.

No. No way are we targeting
my people.

Well, you know, you leftie
hypocrites, you're actually

the perfect kind of customer.

You won't touch palm oil
because of deforestation

but you'll happily snort cocaine
that's been up some poor

peasant's mimsy.

Firstly, there is no way I'm
exploiting 40 years of trust in

the BJC, and secondly, "mimsy"?

So what other choice do we have?
No-one wants to be doing this.

What about Gabby?

Surely everyone in her phone is
a potential customer.

What about her music festival?
Isn't there a mailing list for that?

I'm not bringing Gabby into this.
You don't have to bring her into it,

you just have to get
the details off her phone.

And you live with her,

so I'm sure that should be
easy enough.

Well, what about you?
You work in a nightclub!

I bet their mailing list is full
of drug heads. No, no, my manager is

proper paranoid. He keeps his office
door locked, computer password

protected, there's no way I'd get in
there. Find a way.

You get Gabby's mailing list.
You get the BJC's.

How? It's on Claire's computer.

Figure it out.
Who put you in charge?

What are you going to contribute?

Students. Students,
they love to party, don't they?

We have a major university right
here in the city,

that is 20,000 potential buyers
right there.

But none of us are students.
No, but you look like you are.

Who do I speak to
about volunteering?

You take every sausage

the average person would eat in
their lifetime,

put it together, it would actually
reach to the moon.

You need to watch
a documentary called Food, Inc -

you will never eat meat again.
I won't go near the stuff,

it's the smoking of today.

Excuse me,
are you organising the frat party?

That was my idea. You missed
the early-bird wristbands, OK?

Tickets are now 35 a pop.

You'll get two free Jaegers

and entry to the wet T-shirt
competition, where

the contestants...all men.

Erm, I was hoping I could volunteer?

Yeah? You can...man a hose?

No, with the organisation of
the party.

Most freshers just want to
get wasted.

Not me. I enjoy planning
more than partying.

This is Greg, he works for
Lady Gabriella Penrose-Howe.

She comes in here...a lot.

Well, milady's got great taste.

Not if she comes in here,
she doesn't.

But she does have a great arse.
I'll be sure to pass that on.

I don't know if you're aware that,
aside from her arse,

she's also got 1.2 million
followers on social media.

I don't use the internet much,

except for sports results
and wanking.

Well, it's good to have hobbies.

Can I suggest you give Her Ladyship
a quick Google?

I think you'd be quite interested
in what you find.

Is Lady Gabby single?
Because my wife's just left me, OK?

I'm on the hunt and she is right
up my street - classy.

Well, Lady Gabby's actually
a member of the LGBT community.

What, she's a lezza? What a waste.

Yup. Or you'd have been in with
a shot.

Not very ladylike,
is she, Her Ladyship,

smashing up cars, keying cars.
What's she got against cars?

Well, she's what we call "edgy".

Well, round here we'd call her
a bitch.

Well, I'll be sure to pass that on.

What's your proposition?

Well, what if Her Ladyship was
to tell her 1.2 million

followers that she's going to make

a live personal performance in your
club this evening?

To do what? Wave and stuff?

How much?

Look after my Range like it's your
own nut sack.

I see so much as

a crisp wrapper in
the cup holder, it's peak for you.

Guard that line with your life,
because it's worth way more.

You feel me? Yeah, I feel you.

Peoples say she destroyed
the welfare state.

Public spending went up every year
under Thatcher.

In '82 to '83, the Government was
spending 48% of GDP.

That's more than in any year under
Tony Blair or Gordon Brown.

Thanks, Tom. Poor bloke,
what's he - like, 60?

If I wind up doing that when
I'm his age, shoot me, yeah?

What's wrong with what he's doing?

No, nothing. I just think that one
can aspire to a little bit more than

collecting other people's crap all
your life. Why?

If all you did every day
was mop latrines,

empty bins for minimum wage,
why wouldn't you shoot yourself?

What are you studying?

I'm doing a PhD in
Applied Microeconomics.

And what are you going to do when
you finish? Write, teach,

I'd like to be an academic,
like my father.

Right, so you're going to spend five
years studying Microeconomics,

then write some obscure academic
textbook that half

a dozen people will read,

and then spend your life
teaching Microeconomics

so that other people can do
the same thing, is that right?

You're saying academia's not
a worthy pursuit?

I'm saying that academia's
masturbation in a corduroy jacket.

What are you going to do
with your life, then?

I don't know.

That's not an answer.

It's honest. I don't know.

I just know I want to live,
like, really live.

I get that.

I just got back from inter-railing.
Never felt more alive.

Laurence Chartney,
by the way, Union President.

Rani Rekowski.

Is there anything else I can
help with?

I'm actually really good
at computers.

Oh, actually, yes.

One, two. Check, one, two.

Oh, let me take that
for you, Your Ladyship.

Feel free to leave anything you like
in here, it's very secure.

You could even get changed in here,
if you like, that camera don't work.

When you chatted about us on your
Twitter and whatnot,

we sold over 80% of our tickets.

In one hour, this place will be

chock-a-block with over 2,000
people, all here to see you.

2,000? Yeah, all getting pissed
up, hopefully.

And what do I have to do?

Just walk on the stage,
wave and give away some T-shirts.

On that stage? Yeah.

Let's talk financials.

You weren't lying, nice work.

Next, could you consolidate this

into one super column for me?
Uh-huh.

You know, if there's something you
need to, you know, get on with...

Hey, thanks for really giving it
to me earlier, no holds barred.

You know, there's
a lot of smart people in this place

but most of them struggle
to keep up with me. But not you.

Mm. So, namaste.

Namaste.

Can I ask you a personal question?

Shut me down immediately if this is
out of order,

but I would love to converse
further. Can I get your deets?

My deets? It's short for details.

Not by much.

What do you say? Yeah, OK, sure.

Great. So what are you studying
here, by the way?

Erm, Mathematics and Physics.

Yeah? I did Maths as my undergrad.

Really? Did you? That's great.

How are you finding it so far?

Professor Sturridge is a bit of
a hard arse, right?

Is he? I hadn't noticed. SHE is.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Sorry, she seems kind of blokeish
to me.

Mm.

We're going to head to the bar
for some drinks

and I think you should join.

Yeah, I just really want to break
the back of this,

but then I'll be straight down.
That's a great work ethic.

Mm. Whatever it is you choose
to do in life...

..I can tell
you're going to crush it.

I'll see you down there.

Mailing list, come on.

Well, there isn't that much time...

What is it?

John, I'm at the
you-know-where,

trying to get the you-know-what off
of Claire's computer.

Lovely. Why are you calling me?
Because I don't use computers.

I've just literally spent
the last 45 minutes trying

to turn the damn thing on!
Where's the mailing list?

How can I possibly know that?

Well, you use computers, don't you?

Yeah, I have. Not that exact one.

What's on the screen? A waterfall.

OK, are there folders with
the waterfall? Folders?

Yeah, the little icons that look
like folders.

No, there are no folders, I just
told you, it's just a waterfall.

Then you're looking at a
screensaver. A what?

Ladies and gentlemen,
Lady Gabriella Penrose-Howe!

She's on, what's she waiting for?

She's just getting in the zone.
Give her a second.

Do you know what a mouse is?
Yes, Yes, I know what a mouse is.

Jiggle it!

Ooh! Right. Yes.
Now, that's done something.

So now the screen is purple and grey

and there are lots of little
folders.

Now what?

Look for one that says "mailing
list" - or something like that.

My pork chop is getting
cold, by the way.

"Mail out". Right,

there's one called "mail out".
Could that be it?

Could be. Now what?

Now drag and drop it onto your USB.

Are you ready? I can't do it.

Yeah, you can.
He's paying you 1,500 quid.

Per club. And he's got five clubs.
That's seven-and-a-half grand.

Almost pays off your bar tab.

What does drag and drop mean?

Christ! My mother-in-law can drag
and drop, she's 92 and blind.

Just put the arrow over the folder.

Put the arrow, put
the arrow... How do I do that?

With the mouse! Put the arrow over
the folder with the mouse!

Do not fucking shout at me.

Hi, Imran. Hi.

This may be nothing,

but this new fresher's just
volunteered at the student union

and something smells
a bit off about her.

Do you mind just searching
to see if she's actually

a student here?
Her name is Rani Rekowski.

Oh, damn! I left my phone in my coat
in your office.

No, it's cool. I'll go.

Oh, cheers.

The arrow is now over the folder.
Now what?

Now press and hold the button
on the mouse.

Right.

B-I-G.

"Big jugs," got it.

Come on.

Yes.

Without releasing the button,
drag it into your USB.

What is a USB? What's a US...?

There's no trace of her...anywhere.

Will you come with me while I have
a little conflab with her?

Come on!

How many eggs do you have a week?

It's frozen. Come on. Come on.

Six, seven, exactly, this is
the problem.

Stay where you are,
I'm coming over.

OK. Good.

Oh!

Watch this documentary,
you'll never eat meat again.

Come on. OK.

Can I get a triple vodka
with tonic, please?

In fact, just hold the tonic.

Of course, I'll stick it on
your tab.

Is that wise?
No drink or drugs, remember?

I need it. No, you don't.

I can't go out there sober.
I don't sing,

I don't dance, I don't act,

I don't do anything,
I'm like an appendix!

It doesn't matter.

They just want to stare at you
and take pictures, like an accident

on the motorway. Really? Yeah. Just
think of yourself as a family of

four who have had a head-on
collision with an 18-wheeler.

Yeah, good. This is this is making
me feel better. Keep talking.

They've cut out Mum and the kids,

but it doesn't look like Dad's going
to make it.

What's up, darlings?

How are we all tonight?

Who wants some free shit?

You can shout a bit louder,
who wants some free shit?

It's going to take hours
to text all the numbers we've got.

No, it won't. We can automate
and SMS mailout from this laptop.

I did a quick Google search

and found some open-source
robot-text software.

What did she just say?

So what's our message going to be?

"Oh, hi there, we've got some lovely
cocaine for sale"?

We need code words.
What about "grown-up sweeties"?

Well, that just sounds paedo-y,
doesn't it?

We need a euphemism that appeals

to middle-class users who get
the cocaine out at dinner parties.

Colombian After Eights?

Throw in the words "Fairtrade"
and "organic". No can do.

If you call a product organic when
it hasn't been certified by

an official body, you're actually
breaking the law.

Oh? Right, cos we don't want our
cocaine breaking the law.

This is never going to work. What,

we're just going to send out spam
and hope that someone replies?

Listen, flyers, cold-calling, you're
looking at a 2-3% success rate.

What about referrals?

40-50%.

OK, so we just need a few bites
to get word-of-mouth going.

And what if we accidentally message
a policeman?

Well, no policeman's making
extra work for themselves

by chasing down an anonymous text.

Well, what if we
accidentally message

a do-gooder who then notifies
a policeman?

Myrns, do you notify

a policeman every time you get spam
email from some Nigerian prince?

Don't...

And we're using burner phones,
so they won't be able

to trace them back to us.

Coffee. I'd love a coffee, mate,
thanks.

No, as our code words.
"Flat white" for coke,

"espresso" for crack.

"Single shot, double shot -
how many bags you want?"

Sounds good. Yeah, it's good.
It's a good idea, yeah.

Godspeed.

Shall we order some actual coffees?
Yeah, good shout.

Oh, shit the bed!

What's your need?

This message, is it what I think it
is? It is.

How do I know you're not police?

Well, unless you're planning on
buying a couple of kilos,

the police aren't interested
in you.

Fair enough. Two flat whites
and a double espresso, please.

Where are you at?

Makepeace Avenue.

Someone will be along shortly.
Tell your friends.

OK. Bye. Oh.

Yes!

Hello? Yeah, what do you want?

Where are you at?

What coffees do you require?

Where are you?

Where are you at? Where are you?
Where are you?

What are you wearing?
I don't mean that in a sexy way,

I just mean what you're wearing,
so we can identify you.

OK, one second. I'll be with you in
a second.

OK, great.

It gets you buzzed up.

Spread the word, OK?