Original subtitles

[tapping]

Anyone watching thinking we know fuck all

about knowing fuck all about owt, needs to watch their backs! Oh!

So you've had your Labour, reclassifying skunk, sending prices sky-high.

Literally, literally, taking the grass from its own roots.

Now you've got your Con-Dem-Nation.

Liberals noshing Tories like altar boys picking dimps up.

Have we had a national fucking stroke or what?

Is revolution a word, or was it never?

Anybody watching needs to know,

we cope better than average with irony in Chatsworth.

Well, for fuck's sake, we live in Manchester,

and they charge us for water?

I wandered lonely as a clown, necking mushrooms rarely found.

This green and pleasant land in ancient time.

Yak! Yak! Yak! Yak! Yak! Yak!

It's not theirs any more.

-This is our England now! -[cheering]

Party!

[theme music]

[woman] Clearer with number one or number two?

[Frank] Society is dead.

But it was all a big fucking lie anyway, so save your tears.

Don't mourn.

Two.

Schools, hospitals, pensions, care for the wrinklies,

all that "cradle to the grave" shite was just an expensive luxury.

What were we thinking?

We are animals.

It is survival of the fittest.

To paraphrase the one good Scouser,

I don't believe in government, I don't believe in society,

I just believe in me.

[sensual music playing]

Straight ahead.

[music stops playing]

Noble profession, optician.

Helping the blind to see. Windows to the soul.

Well, there's more money in dentistry, but I didn't make the grades.

So here I am, living the dream.

One of the girls will help you pick out some frames from our own-brand range.

-Beg your pardon? -Your prescription.

Oh, no, you don't understand, Doctor.

The dole sent me down here.

I have to go through the motions, or they dock the benefit.

I'm not a doctor, and you need glasses.

That's not...

-possible. -It's fact.

I'm not of the four-eyed persuasion, you know. I'm strong. I...

Me against...

-I've got the constitution of an ox. -An ox that needs glasses.

There's fuck all wrong with my eyes, love, so let's get serious, shall we?

Put your breasts away and look again with your little torch thing

and see if we can't get it right this time.

["I Am The Resurrection" playing]

♪ Down, down, you bring me down ♪

[groans]

[whispering] Fuck.

♪ Down, down, you bring me down ♪

♪ Down, down ♪

♪ Down, down ♪

♪ Down, down ♪

[woman clears her throat]

[laughter]

Ha-ha.

Very fucking funny.

How can a piss-stained tramp like you be too vain to wear glasses?

It's not vanity.

-Yeah, and a wash wouldn't go amiss. -Fuck off, you chimp!

All right, knock it on the head!

-Come on, we're only having a joke. -Just fuck off!

-Oh... -Have we hurt your feelings?

[laughter]

-How was the graduation? -Brilliant ceremony.

All dresses and gowns and hats.

Like the royal wedding but without the inbreeding.

Magical, pregnancy. It's brilliant.

Oh, it's a hoot.

Do you mind if I have a little rub?

Fire in. Everyone else does.

Good to have a graduate in the family, though.

White-collar worker, respectable.

Is that what it's about, respectability?

You're asking the wrong person.

[Kelly] You dirty bastard!

I hope he appreciates all this effort.

Buzzin'. Best day of my life.

-Got to go. -[man] No, no. Come on, Jackson,

stay for another drink.

-Yeah, don't go! -Be fair.

-His mates are throwing a party for him. -Yeah, my mates.

[theme song from 2001: A Space Odyssey playing]

I graduated. I'm a qualified teacher.

Mammoth.

Mates...

Fuck it, they can wait an hour.

[cheering]

-[woman] Cheers, everyone! -Here's to the class of 2012!

You all right, love?

Mm. Must have got caught up with his classmates.

Did you tell him you were planning a do?

Thought he'd pick up on my hints...

but clearly not.

His phone goes straight to voice mail.

Poor cow's in denial.

-What of? -That her man's an arsehole.

Thank fuck we're normal, son, eh?

For fuck's sake, look in the mirror before you come out the toilet, will you?

-Sorry. -Sorry.

How about some porky pig?

Oh, no.

[dog barks outside]

-Oh, vanity, thy name is salmonella. -Jesus Christ.

What the fuck, Nosferatu?

If you're trawling the night looking for the blood of virgins,

-you'll have a long wait round here. -I have the sweats, and you're lucky I do.

If you could read, you'd see that meat's not fit for human consumption.

I was saving it for the ducks.

Ducks can't eat bacon.

Tell me something I don't know.

And aren't you a bit past your own sell-by

to be self-conscious about wearing glasses?

I am not self-conscious.

Bollocks! You're like a teenager who's been told not to pop his zits.

We do have mirrors.

I am aware that energy expended on vanity's largely wasted on my part,

-kind though it is of you to point it out. -So, what?

I cannot be weak.

I know what they think round here.

You've seen how they treat me. Laugh, point, kick, rob.

Not many tears shed when I fell in the Jockey, was there?

Sticks and stones.

It's only because...

I have this.

Yeah? This.

Faculties. Senses. Head, body.

If I am strong, they can do whatever they like, but they cannot penetrate.

I am immune.

And wearing glasses fractures your superhero defences?

Spectacles, hearing aids, walking sticks, prosthetic limbs.

These...

These...

place me on a very slippery slope.

If I am weak, I will not survive.

Yeah, we open at seven.

Doesn't mean I actually want to be out of my pit at seven.

-What time do you have, Feeney? -Just gone half past the hour, Miss.

Begin.

Right, lads, not much time. You know the drill. You, number 10. You, 11.

Remember, be firm. Get straight to the point.

Leave them in no doubt. They'll be glad of it.

[Patty] God in heaven! You'll have the thing off its hinges!

Don't open the door this time of the morning. It can only be...

-Operation New Start. -Oh.

DSS. Gestapo.

These are court-signed documents

ordering you to vacate these premises with immediate effect.

You're being evicted.

All right, all right! Keep your hair on...

so I can scalp you when I open the fucking door.

Can we come in?

No. It's not even nine o'clock yet. What's going on?

-We've been evicted. -Who has?

All of us.

Now, they can't search the house, right? We've still got some human rights left

in this fucking dictatorship of the moderate.

So, we don't need to flush the drugs, then?

No, no, we're safe. What drugs?

You stupid little...

If the place wasn't swarming with suits, I'd strip-search you, you little bastard.

-What are you doing? -Make noise, move about.

Be several children.

[Frank] Keep the noise down, will you?

We've got guests. Bloody hell, kids.

Mayhem up there.

Oh...

-Hello. -He still doesn't get it, Miss.

[whispers] Stop calling me Miss.

It's creepy, like I invented you in a fucking lab.

Sorry, Mi...

So... Aidan Croker, 14, should be upstairs.

And this little angel should be Stella.

Are you enjoying your... your breakfast?

Prawn cocktail. Loves her seafood, so she does.

Right, so no other children, is that correct?

Or were you suggesting there are some more up there?

[thudding upstairs]

Yeah, just the one. But, you know, he puts himself about a bit.

This is a multi-agency operation, Mr. Gallagher.

Department of Work and Pensions, local council,

HMRC,

environmental health,

-the police. -That's not fair!

In the past, people have relied

on the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing.

Not anymore.

You can't put people out on the street. A child, a cripple.

A geriatric fucking cripple.

No, it's a broad remit. Premises inspection,

checking that claimants are getting all they're entitled to.

Or not.

And in some very extreme cases, I am sorry to say,

the serving of eviction papers

to those individuals who have repeatedly ignored the wishes of the court.

[Patty] What court?

"Gallagher, Vernon Francis, has failed to answer a variety of charges

relating to benefit and council tax fraud, amongst other things."

Well, nobody told me.

We have to look at this as an opportunity.

It frees you from that cycle of debt and dependency,

free to pursue a new start.

Temporary accommodation for you and the boy. Make sure and call ahead.

St. Helens?

Do you get that sense of freedom...

being evicted so you can go forth and fulfil your potential?

See it as an opportunity to give up the fags for good. Change your life.

Fuck off, you bastard. Look what you've done to me.

I'll never fit any of my clothes ever again.

In the delivery room, I want you there,

with an extra-strength filter-tipped and a Zippo, ready to go.

I don't care whether they've snipped the umbilical or not!

Grub up.

All nice and healthy for the baby.

Cosy.

How's the flat hunt going, Micky?

Oh, I've not started yet. You know, I've been a bit busy.

Life just takes over, doesn't it?

Well, you know what they say, two's company.

-Four's a party. -[Kelly chuckles]

I can't believe I'm going to be called Uncle Micky again.

Not by blood.

No, but we're roomies, aren't we? So, she can call me that if she wants.

-I just called her "she". -[Kelly chuckles]

Just gonna have a dump. Kick my mates out the spare room.

We have got to get him out of this fucking house.

Well, he won't take a hint. Maybe we could move.

Ah.

I'd better get going.

-What are you flogging today? -Oh, er...

DVDs, bit of weed, fags...

home-brew, Viagra, toastie-makers. [kiss]

They can't get enough of fucking toastie-makers.

[Micky] OMG.

Come and have a look at this, Kel. It's absolutely enormous.

What time is it?

Something's up. People running about all over the place.

-When did I get in? -About four.

I got caught up. I'm sorry.

Tomorrow's chip paper.

I'm off. You better think about how you're going to make this up to me.

You're totally up shit creek.

[sighs]

-[clamour] -[Jamie] Enough.

Enough!

You're like a herd of geese. Squawk, squawk, squawk!

Gaggle.

What?

It's not a herd of geese, it's a gaggle of geese.

You wouldn't say a flock of dogs, would you?

Half six this morning, the bailiffs turned up.

DWP. Who's that? What's it stand for?

[loud chatter]

Any idea what they're going on about?

Don't know, don't care.

But they can't hang around here. I'll tell you that for no charge.

Where else are they supposed to go?

Fine, I'll go and see what's going on.

[siren wails]

[dog barks]

I presume there's a story here.

-Good night, was it? -Yeah.

Your missus put on a decent spread. It's a pity you missed it.

She's a good woman. Don't fuck it up. I speak from experience.

I'll make it up to her. What's going on?

Er... Arresting folk for false claims.

-[siren wails] -Half the estate'll be in jail.

I think that's the plan.

Well, you know, if you can't do the time, eh?

Dick.

What's the story, Ches?

Don't know. Storm troopers, occupied territory.

Step back, please.

I'm a local business owner. Got a couple of questions.

Yeah, let her through.

-Can I ask what's going on? -You are...

Karen Maguire. I run a pub just up the road.

-You are... -Oh, I'm so sorry.

Carmen Kenaway, Kerr-Kenaway Solutions.

I'm on secondment with Operation New Start.

You're evicting people?

We provide support for those who most need it.

So, you're not evicting people?

Those defrauding government agencies have all assistance suspended.

Including housing?

-Karen, leave it. -What?

We've got licences to protect.

Don't open the door, Benny! Don't open the door!

If you don't let 'em in, they can't force entry.

[knocking]

Two streets so far. Seven families.

It's got fuck all to do with us.

The last thing we need is to draw attention.

-They can't just evict people. -Pint, please.

Splitting families up, temporary accommodation, hostels,

-shelters all over the northwest. -Wigan, St. Helens, Liverpool...

That's worse than being homeless.

Any chance of some fucking service down here?

These families are in proper trouble.

Well, everybody's got a sob story, so forgive me

if I can't get worked up about it.

I've got problems of my own, like where am I going to house my dependents?

Don't be stupid. We've put Patty in our spare room.

-I've got Aidan at ours. -And we've got Stella.

Well, don't all rush at once.

-Maybe if you weren't such-- -A scrub up?

A cunt, I think she was going to say.

You can't wash that off.

Well, fuck the lot of you.

[siren wails in distance]

Hello, officer.

I heard you were coming back. Well, good luck.

They're not gonna make it easy.

[Carl] So, what's happened?

No-one told you?

You've been evicted, Carl.

Patty's bunking at ours.

Aidan and Stella are staying at the Maguires',

-so everyone's safe. -And Dad?

I'm sure we can make space for you.

I'm okay, thanks.

I'll sort something.

We'll have a few drinks later, celebrate you being back.

[slurring] Oh, the prodigal pig returns!

You let us get evicted?

Move along. You're not fit company.

What, so this is your plan? Live rough? Sup the breakfast of champions?

-Hey! -Hey.

-Yeah. How could you do this to me? -To you?

Yes, to me. Remember? The one who brought you up.

Fucking shame of it. What have I done to deserve this?

It's a good job.

You're a police officer.

[man] Fucking hell!

Oh, yeah, fucking hell. Yeah. One of them.

Yeah, I am.

Job, pension, purpose.

You're no son of mine.

Oh, I'm devastated.

-Has he joined the coppers? -Ah, I don't know.

Heh-hey! Hello, hello, hello.

-You all right? -Yeah.

Thought I might get a bite to eat.

Where have you been? Haven't seen you in ages.

Doing my training.

You know I've joined the...

You bastard.

Welcome back, mate.

Besides, not like they brainwashed you, is it? You're still one of us.

Well, yeah, course.

Look at you, all grown up. Where are the handcuffs and the truncheon?

Don't graduate till next week. Get all the gear then.

I'm hoping they'll let me bring a Taser home.

Where are you crashing?

Don't know yet. Just saw my dad.

Stay with us. The more the merrier at the minute.

-You sure? -Yeah, course.

Come on, grab a box while you're at it.

Don't worry about that, mate. On you go.

-Sure? -Yeah.

Jesus Christ!

How long... Ferret! Have you been stood there for?

Long enough to know you're a fucking weirdo.

Pot, kettle... Cunt! Black.

I don't like you being here. You should go.

I've got a message.

-Like Jesus? -What?

Derren Brown? Magdalene?

No... Fuckwit.

For you.

And my ex.

Should I write it down?

You've got a babby coming, and I know how much she wants that.

And, it's not the babby's fault she's the spawn of a mental midget.

-You said "she". -Yes, I did, didn't I?

Hm.

For what it's worth...

I don't wish you well... but there'll be no trouble from me.

You're losing the circulation to your hand.

[gasps]

Thank you. Jaffa!

[Carmen] Choccy's too big. You might have to open the door.

Can you do that?

Oh! Wait a minute. I might have found...

Ah! Another one. Ooh!

There's more than one way to skin a cat, Feeney. Little bit of initiative.

Hey... You're doing a good job.

Time someone took this place to task.

-And, er, what's your name? -Jackson Powell.

Jackson Powell...

Oh!

What is it, Miss? What is it?

No.

Oh, you dirty bastard! Get up!

Hang on. Isn't that the person we saw this morning?

I think it is, Miss, yes.

-Get up! -No. Feeney, Feeney, wait.

This is an opportunity.

I mean, look at him. How long's old Malky lived here?

I don't remember a time when he didn't.

And have you ever seen him put his hand in his pocket?

Not once, the tight-fisted fucker. He's been nursing that for four hours.

Right!

It's time to get a shift on! Hooverville won't build itself, you know?

-What you doing? -They're getting a bit cosy.

Well, I told them they could crash here.

Well, that can't be legal. So, un-tell them.

Tweet me and complain.

Like my Uncle Terry, that.

This one time, he beat the living shit out of my Auntie Sheila.

-Did she deserve it? -What?

Did she deserve the beating?

I don't know. I was only little. Anyway, that's not the story.

Argh!

No, she didn't deserve it, because hitting a woman is never acceptable, understand?

This is an important lesson for you, since you've married our mam.

Oh! I understand! I do!

Give it a proper wash.

Hey! Got a few kegs I need to shift up from the cellar.

Give us a hand? Earn your keep while you're here.

Yeah, no probs.

-What was that for? -You've made som' of yourself.

And you don't let anybody fuck it up for you.

So...

How are we gonna make this work, then?

How do you mean?

Monthly retainer.

Little bit extra if we need something more specific.

Fuck off. I'm a probationer for two years.

I'll be making the cuppas and having the piss taken out of me.

Well, call it a long-term investment, then.

You'll be able to buy yourself a nice little run-around before long.

Look, I'd never land you in it, J. You know that.

But I'll always be my own man.

We can't talk about this again.

Besides, half of these are doubled up, you tight bastard.

Yeah, couldn't get to the fucking bank before it shut, could I?

So, what are we shifting?

These big bastards over here.

Hey, they don't skimp on expenses for the corporate raiders, do they?

I won't lie to you. So, you feeling better?

Well, I regard you bringing me here as a hostile action.

-You were destitute! You ungrateful pig. -Temporarily, I think you'll find.

Daniella. Please excuse Mrs. Feeney.

We're a very close team, and she's... naturally protective.

Mrs? Really?

Somebody need a passport?

-[gasps] -Er... would you leave us, please?

So, Frank, I am curious.

Were there no family that could take you in? No friends?

Social evolution in practice.

-What? -I wear glasses.

Right?

These. Slippery slope.

Galápagos Islands round our way.

If you're weak, you'll be savaged.

If I am fucking this man,

cunts in this place will eat me alive, without a second thought.

Thanks to you lot.

My lot?

Oh, come on, don't pretend you're "of the people".

Your fucking shoes alone would buy a three-bed semi in my street.

Come on. People are...

you know, they're tired of this "them and us" mentality, aren't they?

It always seems to be the old Etonians

telling the rest we live in a classless society,

as they pass laws to deregulate around their investments.

The old divides don't apply. It's about survival nowadays.

Hey, your neighbours weren't slow to cast you out, hm?

Do you think they're worried about what's become of you now?

Hm, I suspect not.

We want the same thing. You scratch my back...

Oh, God.

[sighs] Well, I wondered when this was coming up.

Okay.

No more free lunches, eh?

Oh.

I was thinking more... information, and less...

penis.

[slurring] Derek Molinari. What a fucking chancer.

Punches in for his shift at Meinhoffer's.

-Ching, ching! -[jingling sound]

And then heads out to the bookies all day,

only stepping out to sign on every Thursday.

[Carmen clicks her tongue] Bet he's not the worst.

Oh, not by a long shot.

I'll tell you who's a lying twat. He never shares his smokes.

Biscuit-arse Pettigrew...

Ronnie, to his mother.

Apart from having BO that could fell a fucking buffalo at 20 paces,

he's claiming on four different addresses.

And does he share the goodies around?

Did Jesus have a rubber cross?

Thought I was going to run out of tape.

Um, would you like me to have your room cleared?

That's not my room.

Oh, I wouldn't let that stench anywhere near the place where I lay my head.

No, I'm over here.

Okay, would you like a wake-up call, Miss? I could bring you a coffee?

[whispers] If you were mine,

I'd have a cast made of your magnificent breasts...

and this tongue...

would probe and plunge deep.

Front bottom, not back.

Did you say something?

-No, Miss, I was just thinking, erm... -Night, Feeney.

Good night, Miss.

What the fuck?

Argh! I don't carry cash!

My arse isn't clean!

[Micky laughs loudly]

Go on, slag!

-[man on TV] Stephen, please look at me! -Yes, Kelly?

[man on TV] All you're planning to do is sit back

and carry on selling 100 quid's worth of weed a week!

Micky, do you mind?

-Can't be doing with telly first thing. -Oh, it's brilliant, this one.

They get the DNA and they find out if they've been...

There's no fucking milk.

Marty's got something to ask you.

-Well, see, I-- -You need to move out.

-What? -We're nesting.

We need room for the baby, mate.

But I was gonna help you, you know... like the Three Musketeers.

No, we're like the two musketeers,

and you're like a bloke who insists on crashing with us

and won't take a fucking hint.

-You've been hinting? -In neon, with megaphones.

Had a biplane fly past the other day, trailing a banner.

"Micky, have the sense you were born with and get the fuck out."

You're a brilliant flatmate.

No, you... You're right.

-Your needs are greater. -Don't be like that.

[voice breaks] I'll be gone in an hour.

Think you were direct enough?

Why can't you crash in the Dormobile?

Oh, I don't get the keys for that. They know I'd sell the rust bucket.

Don't wash your gonads in the sink.

Other people have to brush their teeth there.

-So, where are you gonna kip tonight? -Wherever I lay my hat, son.

I was born under a wandering star.

I need no man. I am a rock.

-A rock? -Mm.

Frank, you're washing yourself in my brother's gaff,

and you're rolling on deodorant supplied by the bollock-washer.

Trust me, it's every man for himself.

Only the strongest will survive.

Don't... Don't do that.

[chatter]

Keep your strength. All for one, one for all.

You don't fool me for a fucking minute.

All right, Shane, what's the abuse today?

Go on! Do your worst, I'm a big boy.

You all right?

I got you something.

[sighs]

-What am I looking at? -All of 'em.

Any one you like.

Might as well aim high.

Time to move on.

Finally.

What if I don't want to? I like it here.

It's what we always said we'd do when I graduated.

I think we were wrong to want that.

I think we're right.

Mate, you need to make the most of it while you can.

Random drugs tests and all that.

Fuck off.

Besides, I don't think I can go through with it.

What?

Passing out ceremony.

So, you did all the training, but you're not gonna graduate?

-What's the point in that? -I can't, not...

Not without my dad's blessing.

Fuck your dad.

-If I go, who's gonna look after him? -Look, he's a survivor.

If there's no-one there to protect him from himself,

he'll be dead within 18 month.

I can't do that to him.

I can't let him cut me off.

Miss, no-one's answering their doors.

I haven't the patience for this. Call a town meeting.

-What? -Put our cards on the table.

Are you sure?

What we're doing is for the good of these people.

It's time they understood that.

That's 75 percent of benefit claims in this area are fraudulent.

They're not fraudulent, they're rejected. There's a difference.

-[murmurs of assent] -Parliamentary procedure.

Miss Kenaway has the floor.

If you want to make an interjection, approach the microphone,

and the chair will recognise you.

-You heard me. -[murmurs of agreement]

The thing is, you have got to pay your way and, more importantly, you've got...

Don't lose your head.

-This matters to me. -Why?

Because if I fuck them, I fuck myself.

[Jamie] I don't buy into all this nobility bollocks.

[Karen] Yeah, you do.

You can't fool me.

I know you.

[Carmen] But we can't go on like this.

Less than 15 percent of residents pay any council tax at all.

-No wonder! -Order!

Why...

Why should anyone pay council tax round here?

-[murmurs of assent] -The state of the roads.

Half the street lights haven't worked in a year.

[applause and murmurs of agreement]

You're making my point for me. The Chatsworth is a failed estate.

[man] It might be a shit-hole, but it's our shit-hole!

[Carmen] No-one wants to move here.

You can't expect the authorities to just keep on throwing good money after bad.

Invest!

[cheering and applause]

Right, no, okay, I know for a fact

that someone in this room works at the Meinhoff brewery

and is claiming disability benefit.

Someone else, lives in... Thank you... Anchor Way,

is claiming on four separate addresses.

Swing a cat, and you'll hit half a dozen. That's not the point.

-[murmurs of assent] -Order!

Well, what is the point?

Well, I'm waiting.

Stop punishing people who can't defend themselves.

-We're not punishing anyone. -Yeah, you are.

This places sticks in your craw

because we're a dent on the balance sheet.

And the fucking balance sheet is your god, correct?

[cheering]

This operation will continue whether you co-operate or not.

Fine.

Bring it on.

[cheering and applause]

You're barred!

[Jamie] Why do I get the feeling I've just been set up?

Because you have. Told you I knew you.

You do realise we've just declared war?

-What... -Oh!

-...are you doing? -How do you mean?

I told you that stuff in confidence, just between us.

You're the one who doesn't believe in society.

Doesn't mean I want to join in the goose-stepping, does it?

Oh, this isn't about class.

We're not the SS. It's about people getting away with it.

They bought shares in utilities and satellite dishes

when the going was good.

They?

Who are they?

Well, they are the people who might be a little bit funny

if they knew that you and me had been chatting.

Keep your ears open, Frank. I want to know what they are doing.

Shit.

-Twenty cigs. Come on. -No.

-Why the fuck not? -Cos you're a tosser.

Serve him, Ches.

It's all right, forget it. I think I've just lost my craving.

You should be proud of Carl.

Proud? Proud? Of that traitor?

Yeah! Not the "traitor" bit, though.

What is your problem?

-What, the truth? -Yeah.

You are not like your brothers and sisters.

You are destined for far lesser things.

Cheeky bastard.

You were my one great hope.

The salvation of my loins.

We fuck up.

We turn the other cheek. We run away. It's our DNA.

Rotten to the core. Like father, like son.

-I'm nothing like you. -Oh...

I'm not.

Oh. Oh...

What are you doing?

You're freaking me out, you tit!

This job won't last.

The real you's in there, fighting to get out.

And I am counting down the days.

Know what gets me, though?

Some fucker's grassing them up, passing on details and that.

It's not right.

[Shane] Do you know what? I fucking hate grasses.

Yeah, they know how to treat them in Iraq and Iran,

you know, in the Middle East.

Cut their heads off, man.

No messing about.

They decapitate you for shopping someone?

Yeah. Big curly sword. Wha-wha-tcha!

-They've got the right idea, mate. -Nah, nah, nah, nah.

The Irish, they had the right idea.

They tarred and feathered the informants, tied 'em to lampposts...

[Frank] Come on! Please.

-[car sounds horn] -Could get hypothermia.

-Fucking bird flu, maybe. -Fuck off.

...like turkeys at Christmas.

-Morning. -Morning, sir.

[cheering]

Yeah, fuck off.

Our very own little Che Guevara.

Who's that?

-The one on the T-shirts. -Footballer?

Yeah.

What's your fucking hair like today?

-Er... Where's Karen Maguire, please? -Kiss my dick.

Perhaps your mother has better manners.

I'll tear your fucking head off and shit in your neck.

I'm here.

Er, your licence to sell alcohol on these premises has been suspended,

pending investigation.

Investigation of what?

Several possible contraventions of the Licensing Act 2003,

including letting patrons spend the night at the location.

You don't have the right to serve these.

Oh, this is a multi-agency operation. It's tobacco and alcohol too.

It's across the board.

Fine. Go ahead, suspend the licence. We'll give the drink away.

-What? -We'll give it away.

We can take the hit. This place doesn't close, ever. You won't starve us out.

I'll have a triple voddy, Rockefeller.

Could you help me out, please?

I've been in here since Tuesday.

Could you not put a little more on the deposit?

For an extra 2,000, you could get this one.

It has a downstairs toilet. Be perfect for me.

-You? -[Patty] Well,

you're going to have to get used to the idea

that this could be a permanent living arrangement.

You're welcome to stay until you sort out alternative accommodation,

but for the first time in my life, I could be approved for a mortgage,

and it's for my family's future, only.

-We may never get our house back. -[knocking]

You wouldn't cast a destitute pensioner out onto the streets?

If I had to, yeah.

-[man] Jackson Powell? -Yeah.

[man] We're from Operation New Start.

You claimed income support whilst undergoing teacher training.

-Yes, yes, but that's-- -[man] You also received

a maintenance grant to the sum of 2,906 pounds...

-No, no. It's not... You don't under-- -...and a teacher trainee bursary

to the sum of 6,000 pounds...

You can't expect a man who has family to provide for to live off that alone.

...as well as over-claiming on family tax credits over a period of four years.

You're not listening to me.

My family need it.

Every penny goes on our survival.

I'm like you, an honest working man.

That's the last of it.

Micky.

[clears throat] I'm... I'm sorry. We owe you big time.

If circumstances were different, we'd love you to stay.

-I could baby-sit. -No, get the fuck out! Get a fucking life!

Don't have to tell me twice.

Oh, you going somewhere?

I'm moving out.

You all are. Council-sponsored, court-sanctioned eviction order.

[chuckles]

I'm being prosecuted. Can you believe that?

He invited them in, made them a cup of tea,

which, by the way, I've noticed neither has touched,

and offered a light snack for the privilege.

They've made a mistake. We're not dole scroungers.

There's no point. I'm signing off anyway.

I'm a qualified teacher now.

-I've got a post at St. Morrissey's. -My husband has no comment.

Both of you, out of my fucking house now.

Not another word.

We'll be in touch.

Did you see the way he just looked at me, like they would Frank Gallagher?

How fucking dare they? I'll fix this.

That's fine, then, isn't it?

Just in case, put this pot away somewhere safe.

Cos after that lot get through with us,

at least we'll have something left to piss in.

Pasta do you for lunch?

Oh, I can't stand feckin' Italian food. I...

Pasta would be lovely.

Four quid! Come on! Can't sell them in the shop.

Look at 'em all. What have we done?

-Come on, boys! Get your pennies out! -[cheering]

God knows.

Pint and an orange.

Put a large voddy in it.

Bairn's got to get used to it some time.

-Go on, what you having? -No, you're all right, thanks. I'm fine.

[silence falls]

[clanging]

For fuck's sake, is it panto season?

-What have you done, Frank? -Nothing.

I'm just... I've...

I've had my fill, that's all.

-Frank? -I haven't done anything.

-You're refusing a free drink? -I'm not.

I'm just...

He's got a guilty conscience.

-What? About what? You threw me out. -[Mimi] He's lying.

-Can't even look me in the eye. -[sighs]

-Swear on the kids' lives. -I swear.

-Swear on Man City. -I swear.

On your mother's memory.

-Oh, Frank. -Oh...

Grass!

She's got us over a barrel. If I don't...

-Fucking hell! -No, listen!

If I don't weigh her in with info,

she's going to fucking hang me out to dry.

[murmuring]

Well, come on, then!

-Come on! Come on! -[jeering]

Bring it on, you... pack of hyenas!

Fucking pussy!

Got fuck all to lose, anyway! Come on!

I'm fucking... I'm just a fucking punch bag, aren't I?

[Billy] One man's torture is another man's justified measures.

I mean, I don't know if I believe in punishment for its own sake.

I'm more a rehabilitation man myself.

I'd have no conscience about it.

I want to see him suffer. Two-faced grassing bastard.

We might cut your knob off, you know. You can still live like that, knobless.

I always thought it'd cause you to bleed to death,

but apparently not.

You can't kill Frank. It'd be like... drowning a puppy.

Er... I've drowned loads of puppies. Trust me, it's fuck all like this.

Still carrying a torch for him, are we?

Yeah, I don't want him murdered, so I must be carrying a torch for him.

Is that your logic?

Because there's loads of people that I don't want murdered,

so that must make me a right slapper.

[Billy] It does turn you into a soprano, though.

You know, high voice and all that.

Sopranos used to be dead valuable in history.

-[muffled cries] -When I say soprano,

I do mean castrato, obviously.

[muffled cries]

The Pope had a whole choir of them in the 16th century.

[muffled shouting]

Burn me, shoot me, drown me at sea. I don't care what you do.

But stop fucking talking.

Punishing him for its own sake makes no sense. How does it benefit us?

[Mimi] It isn't supposed to benefit us.

Maybe it is.

Look, he spied for them, yeah? Why can't he spy for us?

Find out what they're up to, bring it here?

And maybe pass on some duff information to them while he's at it?

What, Frank Gallagher, double agent?

Oh, fuck me, we must be desperate.

["Under Pressure" playing]

Look out, Mata Hari's on the case.

Oh, ha-fucking-ha. I don't have to do this.

Er, shouldn't have blabbed your fucking mouth off to them in the first place.

You owe us, all of us. Big time.

I know...

that.

That's why I'm trying to put things right, aren't I?

I'm finding out what they're up to so you...

we have got a fighting chance of stopping them.

Good luck.

Big, big, big, big, big, big, big, big plans.

Hm, pray tell.

It's bribery.

Need to keep a close eye on your team,

cos someone on the inside's passing info in exchange for readies.

Get Frank another drink, yeah?

I think it helps him to talk more... freely.

[laughs] Okay.

So, Frank, um... what sort of information are they supplying exactly?

It's like addresses of where you're going to swoop next, you know.

When are you swooping? You know, matter of interest.

[man] Carmy! Carmen!

I couldn't find you!

I have no sympathy or time for this.

I love you!

[Carmen] I used to be at your beck and call every time she spent my money.

Oh, great!

Carmen may be some time.

Ah.

I'm in no rush.

It's all right, love. Your virtue's safe with me.

I may need glasses, but I'm not totally Stevie Wonder.

[slurred] Where the fuck has Carmen got to?

We won't see her now.

This always happens when he shows up,

and she falls for it every time.

A husband. Going through a divorce.

He's a drunk, a womaniser.

He'll have had his way with her and then run back to the younger model.

Men are bastards.

Do you have a little lady crush?

[sniggers]

I, er...

I touched her boob once, while she was asleep.

The left one.

I just, er... brushed my palm

across her nipple.

I sleep on it now.

Hard to tell, cos I'm so pissed, but I might have just come in my pants.

You're all stuffed, though. You know that.

-What? -It's political,

like immigration.

No government can be seen to be supporting benefits.

The underbelly is a cancer.

-Shall we have another drink? -Oh, no.

-Go on! -No.

-You know you want to. -No, no.

Go on!

Oh, all right, and then we call it a day. I need to, er...

Leave the table here.

[Carmen] Where's Feeney?

[glass clinks]

-What are you doing? -I just... I...

dropped my glasses.

You look shagged.

You going somewhere?

[Avril] I don't know who you are any more.

-Oh, I'm going somewhere. -I don't want to be like everyone else.

I want two parents.

You're so keen to move on. I think you should.

You're not that stupid. Fifteen years of marriage?

Fifteen years?

Letitia.

I wouldn't want you looking down your nose at us.

Maybe one of your better class of mates can put you up.

In.

In!

I won't be blackmailed!

Not a fucking word.

-There you go, love. -Cheers.

Oh, come on, I've earned it.

If I had my way, you'd be propping up a bridge somewhere by now.

Oh, what, you going to stuff your gums with orange peel?

Tell me Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes?

You don't scare me!

We're fucked.

They're going to evict as many as they can, but there's no new tenants.

No-one's moving in.

They're going to keep the houses empty, permanent.

Well, that's stupid.

No, that's clever. Left empty, the houses'll rot.

Yeah, but then, no-one'll want to live here.

Which is exactly what they want.

They're looking to shut down the whole estate.

No houses, no pub, no punters, no people.

This'll become one of those places people used to live.

Well, I, for one, am lying down to no bully.

-I'm with you. -We need a plan.

I wear them for reading sometimes.

I wear contacts.

I need 'em for watching telly.

I don't need glasses.

I only wear them cos fellas can't resist the slutty secretary look.

How are we going to fight them? They've got cops and dogs.

-[Aidan] They've got Tasers. -We need to be smart. Guerrilla warfare.

Yeah, French resistance. But we're not French.

We're all in the same fucking boat.

[Frank] All right, so maybe I was a bit premature.

These are difficult days.

You know, post banking crisis, post comprehensive spending review,

cuts, cuts and more cuts.

And kick the living shit out of the underbelly,

cos they're least equipped to defend themselves.

The more things change, the more they stay the same, yeah?

Bastards, you.

[sighs]

[chatter]

[Frank] Society is dead.

Long live society.

Thanks to you, these people have lost their homes.

A hundred and fifty grand?

That's a bonus, if she manages to permanently board up 120 houses.

Partner couldn't make it again?

-I can't do it on my own. -I'll mess it up!

You'll mess it up if you ignore your baby.

Upset by a couple of evictions, are you?

Ten years from now, this place will be wasteland!

[Karen] She has destroyed people's lives. She's caused total mayhem.

You know what hormones are like. I really need to go and ride my boy.

[moaning]

Baby!

[theme music]

[woman moaning]

There's spunk stains on the pillowcase and dried-on lubricant.

It's a working house.

[faint moaning]

Have you got a little stiffy under there for me?

No. I've really not.

You'll come round eventually.