Original subtitles

John Dee.

Some pretty distractions, which you call angels,

call forth to forget our cares.

Some aquavit to pass this hard night for our pleasure.

And this our gentlewoman.

Her Majesty as... as once a virgin fashioned the whole Earth.

So by a virgin it shall have rebirth.

So says the old sage, wisdom.

Dear oh Doctor John.

Our triumphant antimony.

Our kingdom's eyes.

This me pleaseth to see and have discourse with angels.

Your Majesty, the spell we cast forth

in the name of Christ Jesus and his angelic hosts,

calling for the fiery, spiritual creature.

Our angel Ariel.

Metrotron...

...angel commander of the ten hosts I cast for Ariel...

...Pearl of Fire.

My only star.

God's moonbeam send forth my flower.

The smoke and ashes of ages past,

which hangs like morning mist in veils across the universe,

parts in swirls and eddies...

...and through them the shooting star,

my angel Ariel flies with mirrored eyes,

leaving a sparkling phosphorescent trail across the universe.

Down.

Down he plummets towards Earth

through the great vacuum on the curve of infinity.

And like a fiery rose

he descends...

...to Mortlake.

All hail, great master.

Grave, sir. Hail.

I come to answer thy best pleasure...

...be it to fly, to swim,

to dive into the fire,

to ride upon the curled clouds to thy strong bidding.

Ariel.

And all this quality.

This vision exceedeth all expectation.

Such an abstract never before I spied.

An angel, Your Majesty, is the sun's true shadow.

Spirit Ariel,

Her Majesty wishes to have knowledge

to swim in those pure waters,

which are the essence of that which bind all creation.

By me... this task shall be performed.

For I am that pure and clarified spirit

by which thou must turn all metals to the most pure gold.

Sweet Majesty, pluck up thy heart and be merry...

...for I will reveal to thee...

...the shadow of this time.

Break it up, kids. Up against the wall.

All right. Move right up there. Come on.

Come on!

Quickly!

Run! Come on! Run!

All right, girls.

We are now proud to welcome Miss Amyl Nitrite.

England's glory.

Who's going to tell us the exciting story of her misspent life.

The world is no longer interested in heroes.

So sad.

We now know too much about them, don't we?

Do you know any real heroes?

No.

I don't.

Anyway, let me introduce you to Amyl Nitrite.

She's our heroine.

faites de vos désirs réalité.

"Make your desires reality."

I, myself, preferred the song "Don't Dream It, Be It."

'In those days desires weren't allowed to become reality.

'So fantasy was substituted for them.

'Films, books, pictures.

'They called it art.

'But when you desires become reality,

'you don't need fantasy any longer or art.'

'I always remembered the school motto.

'As a child my heroine was Myra Hindley.

'Do you remember her?

'Myra's crimes were, they said, "beyond belief."

'That was because no-one had any imagination then.

'They really didn't know how to make their desires reality.

'They were not artists like Myra.

'One can smile now at the naiveté.

'When, on my 15th birthday,

'law and order were finally abolished,

'all those statistics that were a substitute for reality disappeared.

'The crime rate dropped to zero.

'Who believed in statistics then?

'Only the vital ones.'

In any case, I started to dance.

I wanted to defy... gravity.

'I haven't danced for a long time.

'No-one's interested in the ballet any more.

'But history still fascinates me.

'It's so intangible.

'You can weave facts anywhere you like.

'Good guys can swap places with bad guys.

'You might think Richard Ill of England was bad,

'but you'd be wrong.

'What separates Hitler from Napoleon?

'Or even Alexander?

'The size of the destruction or is he nearer to us in time?

'Was Churchill a hero?

'Did he alter history for the better?

'Now my friend Mad on the sofa is a pyromaniac.

'But she thinks she's a revolutionary out to better the world.

'I'm not so sure.

'The boys in the bed are Sphinx and Angel.

'They're from Deptford and brothers.

'Their relationship is quite peculiar, but they're nice enough.'

'And over there at the washbasin is Chaos,

'our French au pair.

'Life in England these days is inflationary,

'but we're carrying on regardless,

'coping with misgovernment and idiocy on every side.

'Carnation from Floris.

'Not all the good things have disappeared.'

Shit! Piss!

- What's up, Amyl? - I've broken my Winston Churchill mug.

Oh, look.

Oh, Winston!

Oh, don't worry. We'll stick him together.

- Got a bit of glue. - Look.

Don't worry. You got any glue? You got any glue?

Yeah, yeah.

"Teach Yourself History by Amyl Nitrite."

"Number one, the history of England."

'It all began with William the Conqueror

'who screwed the Anglo-Saxons into the ground,

'carving the land into theirs and ours.

'They lived in mansions and ate beef at fat tables,

'whilst the poor lived in houses minding the cows on a bowl of porridge,

'whilst they pushed them around with their arrogant foreign accents.

'There were two languages in the land...'

What two languages?

Chinese and Liverpudlian. How do I know?

- What about Norman? - Norman who?

Oh, fuck off.

'There were two languages in the land and the seeds of war were sown.

'At first the two sides co-existed meeting only on the racetrack and the battlefield

'whilst they fought the rest of the world...'

That's you, Chaos.

'...who they despised more than each other.

'Now one day, when there was no-one left to fight,

'it dawned on them that the real enemy was at home

'and that they should fight themselves.

'Having grown greedy on the booty they had looted from the rest of the world,

'they decided to fight with money.

'But by now this was made with paper, so it was pretty worthless.

'So, when they discovered this, they took to fighting with guns.'

'The rest of the world sighed a sigh of relief to be rid of them

'and got on with their own business.

'And England slowly sank into the sea.'

Who are you writing this crap for, Amyl?

Myself.

It's a hobby.

When I'm not making history, I write it.

I try to compress it.

Be great if all history could be written on a Mandrax.

This is how to compress it! You forget it.

What are you doing that for?

I'll compress you in a minute!

Ooh, ooh!

Fuck off, Mad!

Help me, Sphinx. Amyl's a raving lunatic. I'm a damsel in distress.

You clammy slag! You've sat on the KY with your fat arse.

Oh, fuck off!

You get it, Angel. The exercise will do you good.

I'm going to show your brother the real thing.

- Fuck off. - Fucking hell

- Oh, fuck off yourself. - Who is it?

Bod.

Shut your eyes, all of you.

Shut your eyes, Angel.

I captured it in Deptford.

It's high fashion.

Now shall one king rise up against another...

...and there shall be bloodshed throughout the whole world.

Fighting between the Devil,

his kingdom and the kingdom of light.

What did you say your name was again?

Kid.

You want some more? Have some more eggs.

No, thank you.

- You want a cigarette? - No, thanks.

What do you do?

Nothing. I'm a musician.

You're gorgeous.

I could get you a job with Borgia Ginz.

He's always looking for new talent.

He owns the media.

My name's Crabs, by the way.

I'm an actress.

- Ever see "War and Peace"? - No.

- Tea, please. - Hello, Crabs.

Hello, Viv. Where have you been all my life?

Now, now, Crabs. Don't worry.

- She won't take him from you. - She's got me.

I like a girl with talent.

So where's Amyl?

Burning the midnight oil.

Working on her decline and fall.

- Who's that? - That's Bod.

She's royalty.

Don't like the way she looks. She's like a fella in a suit like that.

Erm, I think it's kinda nice.

She liberated it from a Russian diplomat she fucked at the Dorchester.

After he came, she put his clothes on in the dark.

She found £1,000 in the jacket.

Wears it for luck now.

You're a sucker for sex!

Why don't you keep up with the times, Crabs?

You're an antique, like this place!

What's the postcard, Mad?

It's New York.

And you can forget it.

It just had the bread to con the rest of the world.

America's dead. It's never been alive.

Montelimar.

It had better be.

Why don't you read the label, Bod?

All these ruins.

All this concrete, Britain's last.

And people who made them are utterly forgotten.

The prisons we live in today

might have taken more than a day to build,

but it doesn't take long to destroy them.

You cow! Get out of my place!

Oh, God!

- Oh, look at this. - Come on, Viv. Let's split.

Goodbye.

Come on, Angel. Before she bums the place down.

No-one's going to help you, so help yourself!

Ouch!

Disgusting.

No.

If your house is ugly, then burn it.

If the street you live in depresses you, then bulldoze 'em down.

And if the cook can't cook, then you kill her, all right?

For a moment I thought you were going to kill her.

Just dress rehearsal.

Oh, I was glad to get away. Mad's so crazy.

- Not to worry. - She's right. That's what upsets me.

Bit bare in here, innit?

Well, she's got a bed, in't she?

What do you do in here all day?

I'm a painter.

An artist.

Very good.

Didn't know there was any artists any more.

Yeah, there aren't. Painting's extinct.

Art isn't.

It's just a habit.

I started painting when I was eight, copying dinosaurs from a picture book.

It was prophetic.

- I'm alive. - So am I.

Artists steal the world's energy.

- Bet they never get caught - Always.

They become blood donors.

Their lifeblood drips away until they're bled dry.

And the people who control the world

make it as inaccessible as possible by driving the artists into corners.

You see, it's dangerous.

Our only hope is to recreate ourselves

as artists or anarchists, if you like,

and release the energy for all.

My brother's an artist.

A piss artist.

What a fucking awful day.

- Height of new wave, don't you think? - Oh, give us a break.

I'm going to make it into a crash helmet. That'd give it some use.

Mmm. That would be distinctive.

Why didn't you steal the pearls, as well?

I never liked pearls.

Or oysters.

Yeah, pearls are for the pure.

And the world's your oyster, so swallow it.

- What's that? - It's "Top of the Pops".

What again?

Yeah, they believe in overkill.

Mmm, he's cute. Who is it?

How should I know?

Now, come on, you morons.

What are we going to do this evening?

Only thing that's open after 11 in this fucking country are the police cells.

Right on, Bod! If you're bored, join the National Front!

Why don't you take up embroidery, doll?

Hm.

There's so little electricity in this country, maybe it's fused.

Ah, real help at last.

Hello?

Who?

What?

Most people would hang up. She's hanging on for dear life.

Oh, yes, I'd love to come.

Who is it? God?

Borgia Ginz.

The impresario.

He wants my opinion on his latest find.

- Are you going? - Of course.

Oh, how the mighty are fallen.

She's got no principles.

I thought you were going to introduce me to Borgia Ginz.

Ah, I don't give away my connections that easily.

You've got to convince me you're worth it first.

And she doesn't need much convincing, dear.

Anyway, I'm going.

Well... she's in for a surprise.

You wanna know my story, babe?

It's easy.

This is the generation who grew up

and forgot to lead their lives.

They were so busy watching my endless movie.

It's power, babe. Power.

I don't create it. I own it.

I sucked and sucked and I sucked.

The media became their only reality

and I own their world of flickering shadows.

BBC, TUC.

ITV, ABC, ATV.

MGM.

KGB!

C of E.

You name it,

I bought them all and rearranged the alphabet.

Without me, they don't exist.

My God.

It's Amyl Nitrite!

She's England's entry for the Eurovision Song Contest.

She's my number one.

'To you, Elizabeth of England, is granted the greater vision.

'That man perceives but little and rarely.

'Beyond this labyrinth and the serpent of memory

'is the still point of the world, that gateway which men seek.

'It is everywhere and nowhere.

'It is here and now.

'Rounded time turns in a circle throughout infinity.

In you is the beginning and the end

'and the forgetfulness beyond.

'He who murders will swim in blood,

'lapping against the bounds of time.

'But he who sings with joy

'will be continuously greeted with joyfulness.

'Every deed you accomplish accompanies you throughout time.'

Consider the world's diversity.

And worship it.

By denying its multiplicity,

you deny your own true nature.

Equality prevails not for the gods' sake, but for man's.

Men are weak

and cannot endure their manifold nature.

He's great, isn't he? I picked him up at the road block.

- What's your name? - Happy Days.

And where are you from?

World's end.

Why do you encourage them, Crabs?

You'll only get the clap.

Come, shit, you virgin queen.

Where were you last night?

Anyway, I like him. He's got a great arse.

Yeah, he's a real sex object.

A real cute sex object.

Oh, back to work! No tea breaks!

For Christ's sake, Crabs, leave off!

What do you see in these damn studs anyway?

Hey, you, why don't you push off?

- Oh, leave the guy alone. - Fuck off.

He's better than a vibrator and bigger.

Don't worry about her. Her parents were Christians.

She was born with a hang-up.

- I'm coming! - Hang on.

Oh, another hit- and-run merchant!

Just hold it, mate, or it's curtains for you! Don't you spurt!

I'm going to tell you.

They all wanna cream as quick as a flash of zipper.

He's a lower form of life.

A blue movie for breakfast is more than I can stomach.

Oh, I like to watch.

- Fucking hell! - Oh, neat.

Just right, man. Hold it.

You fucking... Look at me.

Neat, neat, neat.

Do you think he's dead?

Dial 999.

Right.

One, two, three. And...

Hold on. Wait. Christ.

Heave-ho!

Makes me rather sad.

Oh, cut it out Crabs.

Well, just for a moment I thought he was the one.

Go on, laugh. I really did.

Shit, your mind's really blown, Crabs.

Why are you all against me?

We're not.

We're just trying to save you from yourself.

Yeah, your mind's like a faded collage

of Penthouse and true romance.

Just for a moment I fell in love with him.

Love snuffed it with the hippies.

Sex is for geriatrics.

The mindless.

Well, Viv...

...it's your turn now.

We're stepping back.

Us boys, we've been in the limelight now 5,000 years.

Great, innit?

He hands over to you just as time's running out.

- Mm. - When there's no chance.

That's what I call friendship.

Well, I mean, the end's inevitable.

It's either now or later.

It's what makes the present so vital.

Take your partners for the last waltz.

I love you.

And I love you, Angel.

I love you both.

Both of you.

You seem to have got things sorted out.

Well, why look for anything else?

Life's too short.

All that desperate search for one place that's better than the next.

My brother's great, in't he?

Perfect.

It's a nice day. Let's go out.

Piss off.

It's the biggest studio in the world, Kid.

Borgia bought it from the liquidator.

Christ, it's huge.

Borgia does everything with style.

You didn't believe me, did you?

Sir... that was Wall Street.

They say the dollar's crashing since you withdrew your support.

I'm not interested in peanuts economy, Schmeltzer.

Now, let's get down to the real business.

Well, sir, we've sold 50-million copies of Paranoia Paradise in Moscow alone

in the last three days.

Lounge Lizard's number one.

As long as the music's loud enough,

we won't hear the world falling apart.

Oh... excuse me, sir.

There was a message earlier from M-Madame Mao.

She said she wanted to be in a film.

She won't be in this one, I can assure you.

E-E-Excuse me, Mr Ginz,

but it's M-Miss Crabs to see you.

Hi there, Borgia.

I hope I'm not interrupting, but, er, this is strictly business.

I've been doing a little talent scouting for you.

He's called the Kid, but he's pure sex.

I'm going to be his manager!

- Mmm. - Well.

What can I do for you?

Or rather... what can you do for me?

Hello, Mr Ginz... Ginz.

Oh, you see! He's a natural.

He's going to be the new Garbo!

Garbo is very profitable.

I'll take him into the theatre and audition him.

Just for you, Crabs.

Oh, poor Bod, she'll be so jealous.

I don't care about the money.

I just don't wanna get ripped off.

Oh!

- Oh! - Oh, you useless prat!

I know where there's some lovely flowers.

Really?

Where?

Max's.

It's a bit far, innit?

We can go by car.

- Good old Max. - You'll love him.

Oh, good.

- Hello, Max! - Hi, Max.

This is Viv. She's a friend.

- All right, girl. - Hi.

OK, come in. We're round the back.

Poor soul. Praying for rain, eh?

- Hello, Bod. - Hello.

- What a crazy garden, Max. - Yeah.

I had a bad case of weeds, so I sprayed it all with poison.

It looked a bit sad then, so I planted all these plastic petunias. Hmm.

Max has been telling me about his adventures as a mercenary,

since he left the army.

Ah, the army was a fucking con.

It was a way of solving the unemployment problem

before they gave up entirely.

You're more likely to die of red tape in the Guards than a bullet.

I ran a side line, selling the boys to the local punters in the pub.

The army sees more action in bed these days.

Ah, no, damn it.

This carnation's got mildew.

Yeah, we never got a chance to kill anyone in the army.

So I used to kill the weeds in the garden of an evening instead. Hmm.

It must have been frustrating in the army.

You're not kidding.

We're sitting on enough megatons to blast the sunrise into the west

and no-one's prepared to press the fucking button.

It's a bleeding waste. I mean, think what it all cost.

I pay my taxes.

They're probably so bored they haven't got the energy.

Yeah.

War got so big it lost all contact with people.

Yeah, well, the reaction's set in.

It's moved back onto the streets.

Politicians helped, though.

They demoralised everyone so much talking about devalued money,

except it was almost that was cared about,

their popularity died with the pound.

It's funny how when you try for one thing,

you end up with another.

Personally, though, I prefer the world dead.

I mean, it's cleaner.

My idea of a perfect garden is a remembrance poppy field.

There's a caterpillar.

There's a fucking caterpillar in the tulips.

Eugh!

What the hell! It's full of protein.

Hey, hey, come down to the bingo parlour tonight.

You might win a prize.

- Right. - Ta-ra.

- See you down there. - Ta-ra.

- Ta-ra. - Ta-ra.

Fucking nutters.

You're signed up.

Now, what are we going to call you?

Scum.

That's it, that's it.

Scum.

That's commercial.

It's all they deserve.

- You're great. - Plastic surgery

Really, you're great.

Take my advice, keep away from her.

She'd sell her soul for a couple of inches.

Look, the music industry's dead.

You're better off on the streets. It's not worth it.

He'll steal your voice.

He'll sell it.

He doesn't care if the mindless public hears your words or not.

He just wants to package you.

When he's through with you,

you'll just be another face on another cover.

Hey, why don't you come along and sing to me, huh?

And the Devil came unto him...

...and took him to a very high place...

...and he showed him all the boroughs of London.

And then the Devil said,

"I'll give you all this if you' Il go down on your knees."

And he answered...

...knowing full well it was built by the Department of the Environment

and was a rip-off...

... "Fuck off, Satan."

And Satan left.

- And an angel came. - Yes.

And ministered unto him.

Oh!

That's where Angel and I was born.

We never lived below the 14th floor till I was old enough to run away.

Never saw the ground till I was four.

Just locked alone with the telly all day.

First time I saw flowers I freaked.

I was frightened of dandelions.

My old gran picked one once, I had hysterics.

Everything in that tower block was regulated.

Planned by the social planners to the lowest common denominator.

Sight, concrete.

Sound, the telly.

Touch, plastic. Taste, plastic.

Seasons regulated by thermostat.

Once a year my mum and dad

dusted down the plastic Christmas tree

and exchanged pathetic presents.

Didn't know I was dead till I was 15.

Never experienced love or hate.

My generation's the blank generation.

Mm! Two!

Home and dry! It's my lucky day!

And you threw a double.

Mm. I've won a beauty contest. Second prize.

- Ah. - You'd only won second.

First.

Collect £10 from each player.

And quick.

I'll trade Whitehall for Piccadilly.

- Don't do it, Crabs. - Oh, shut up.

I'll give you Piccadilly.

£200 cash.

Ah!

- A deal under the table. - Hm.

- And all of British Rail. - Oh!

What's a nice girl like you doing trading Piccadilly?

You'd be lost without it.

I'm spaced.

Let's call a halt.

- I'm winning in any case. - Win what?

Anyone who can afford to build hotels on the Old Kent Road's bound to.

I'm going to make some tea. Anybody want any?

- Uh-uh. - Uh-uh.

Go and get the black book, Amyl.

Let's plan the future.

- Goodbye, baby, and amen! - Ooh!

Couples. What could be better than that?

Singles.

Must be something pretty here somewhere.

- There you are. - Ooh!

What about meeting him on a dark night?

Fuck. There's no-one left. They're all dead.

Success!

Who's that?

Lounge Lizard.

You think he's still alive?

Never heard of him.

Ugh. He looks like death.

Kiss of death.

The world won't miss his missing chromosome.

You're crazy, Bod.

I love you!

Let's go.

- Come on, Chaos. - Let's go.

Let's go, babe!

Oh! I'm on TV again!

Oh, my big hit, this'll earn me millions.

Ah...

Yes, I did.

No, the naughty boy,

No red, red is the word we want to turn, communism.

It doesn't matter, I'm so rich.

I'm filthy rich I could eat my own glasses.

Ooh! That was the milk.

Here we go. Another go.

Oh.

My star shines forever.

Never go out. The galaxy is full of stars.

True stars.

Huh.

Good evening, back stage!

This is Miss Slaughter here.

Bringing you the very latest and important world events.

And tonight we have Lounge Lizard.

Who's granted us an exclusive interview

from the privacy of his own home!

Now, first of all, Lounge.

Tell me what it's like... to be dead.

Boring!

Confess!

I bet you're loving it.

Fucking great.

I am sorry.

However, we do allow you

to take seven records with you

of your own choice!

What a taste.

Oh, what a buzz.

Amyl, give us a Coke.

Give us a Coke, Amyl.

A great chill embraceth this place.

Your Majesty, by our leave.

'Tis a true marvel.

What signifieth this corpse?

A dark parable it is to my understanding.

Light and dark, hot or cold...

...living or dead...

...mankind is attracted by the polarities.

Seeing or not seeing.

Sweet angel...

...little I thought to be thus transported from my dear England.

"Que quinque in hoc speculum inspicit.

"Partes sapientiae totus mundi in ilia videre

"et adiscere potest."

Spirit Ariel...

...we would have knowledge of God.

Please, Your Majesty...

...gaze deep into the crystal.

We...

...Elizabeth of England...

...a feather in the wind of time...

...pray for knowledge of God.

From the deep whirlwind of shadows...

...on the edge of the abyss.

Where is God?

Is God dead?

Save your souls, ladies and gentlemen,

the greatest live show on Earth.

Save your souls!

Welcome to the palace of heavenly delights!

And here's the man who made it all possible, Cardinal Borgia Ginz.

The man who picked up the 30 pieces of silver

and made the movies you saw on TV.

This is your last chance, folks, so come on in.

Borgia Ginz is giving up the theatre and going into the car park business!

Without progress, life would be unbearable.

Progress has taken the place of heaven.

It's like pornography.

Better than the real thing.

They prefer the shadows.

The light's too cruel for them.

They're all working for me

and they follow blindly under life insurance.

Hey, Mad, do you want to hear my new chapter? Civilisation.

What, are you going to serialise it?

Hold it, everybody.

Another Mandrax history lesson from Amyl.

Oh, fuck off.

Here goes any case.

"On human rights."

'Human beings have no rights,

'but some dumb fucks told them they have them.

'First political rights, freedom of speech and things like that,

'and if that wasn't enough,

'they were told they had material rights, too.

'They forgot about the political rights soon enough,

'but they got hooked on the material ones.

'One desolate suburban acre and a car,

'then a TV, fridge and another car.

'It was by right, mind you,

'but the habit demanded more and more.

'The day came when the expectations couldn't be fulfilled any longer

'and everyone felt cheated.

'So here we are in the present! Fucking great!

'A civilisation destroyed by resentment.

'Since civilisation itself was always fucking awfully boring for everyone,

'who gives a shit?

'We can do without it.'

Get the salt, Mad.

All right.

Mm, it's a unique job, innit?

It's a bit permanent.

I can't find any salt.

Oh, it's on the shelf.

Is it behind the HP?

Oh, go and show her where it is, Viv. She's as blind as a bat.

They're all the same.

Oh, that live show was fucking awful!

- Where's that Borgia Ginz at, huh? - Nowhere.

Where did they get those guys from?

Oh, they dope them.

I saw them in the vestry.

It showered Librium.

Yeah, it's a real rip-off.

- It's for wankers. - Yeah.

It's all fucking nostalgia.

It's the only way they can get through the day.

Avoiding pure action.

- It's the entertainment business, innit? - Yeah.

Easy come, easy go.

Yeah, well... I'm going bingo.

I promised Max.

I'm staying in.

I've got better things to do.

I'm going to get zapped.

I really like TV when I'm stoned.

Yeah, well, I'm gonna do that.

Come on, Kid. Come on, Angel.

- Are you coming, Viv? - No, I think I'll stay in.

Oh, come on.

There's nothing here for you. Come and have some fun.

- OK. - Right now! Come on! See ya.

- Ta-ra. - Ciao.

Come on.

Hello, hello, hello.

Welcome to Max's bingo palace. It's a laugh a minute.

OK. Now, eyes down for a full house.

Lots of lovely prizes tonight.

First prize donated by General Idi Amin.

One of the privates got a chop last week.

Ha! We're not prejudiced here, you know.

Er, second prize, tin of baked beans.

Offer definitely not to be repeated.

OK, now, let me get my balls untwisted and away we go.

And the first one's a white.

Five and six, 56.

And a white again, four and nine, 49.

And a white, five and four, 54.

And a red, on its own, number eight.

And a red, legs 11.

And a white, four and eight.

And a green. One and nine, 19.

And a white, five and nine, 59.

And a blue, three and one, 31.

And white four and four, 44.

God rest Jane Mansfield.

And a blue, three and five, 35.

- Here, they got Maureen. - I know.

She had the look. You can tell, you know.

Oh, innit a shame?

Oh, don't be so sentimental, Joyce.

I know. She was so young.

I know, but what did you expect?

She never carried a gun, not even a knife.

I know. She couldn't get used to it.

Well, I told her last week in Sainsbury's, "At least a hat pin, Maureen."

They threw the toaster in the bath and she was electrocuted.

Oh, my God.

What do you expect with millions unemployed?

- What is it? - Fuck all!

Here, I won one of them inflatables last week for Fred.

Funny, three of us in the bed!

You ought to give it to Ted.

He'll be lonely without Maureen.

Yeah.

Oh, my God! I've won! House!

For the lovely lady in the white hat,

three months' supply of Jubilee knickers.

Red, white and blue.

What the hell do I do with them?

Well, worth a quid.

Special Branch.

What the hell's going on?

Special Branch, nobody move.

Come on. Give us a kiss.

- You all right? - Yeah, I'm all right.

Yours.

I shall put an end to your history lessons.

Historectomy touché!

Fucking hell!

Do you want any help, Amyl?

I got through life with brains

and a pair of fists.

Fists?

I just have to look.

- OK, you're on. - Come on, then.

You rubber Medusa!

On my right, we have Miss Amyl Nitrite.

And on my left... Mad Medusa!

Get off.

And may the best man win.

Oh, my fucking jaw!

What are you doing in my chair?

The bingo.

They just...

They just killed the boys.

I like your charm, princess.

Yes, we are.

I need a piss.

Here you are, Viv. A toast for Angel.

And another one for Sphinx.

Come on. Don't cry.

Crying won't change anything.

It's a negative reaction.

Help me make these firebombs instead. It'll make you feel better.

We'll show those bastards. You wait and see.

Fuck you, Mad! Do you wanna kill us?

Oh, this'll put us in the mood.

Burn, burn! Oblivion! RIP!

We'll get those bastards. We'll corner them.

It's party time. Let's liberate the zoo.

Where's the razor? Where's the razor?

I'm going to castrate him!

I'm going to kill the bastard!

I'll kill him!

Get out of the way!

Crawl! Crawl!

We'll kill you now!

Kill!

Crawl! Watch him crawl! Crawl!

Fucking... Fucking bastard!

Of course, they've discovered the, er, the new chocolate substitute.

Sir, would you mind if I put my stuff in with yours?

I haven't got much and I'd hate to waste a machine.

- Just make yourself at home. - Thank you.

Hoopla!

Bong!

- Where did you get the T-shirt? - Oh...

T- shirt I pinched at, er, Seditionaries.

Oh, so do you always take your clothes off in the launderette, too?

- Mm-hm. - Oh.

Très chic.

Must have cost a bomb.

Did you get it in the King's Road?

Mmm. So what are you doing after the spin dry?

Nothing.

I just love a man without his uniform.

Mmm.

Sure is the Special Branch.

'Oh!'

Let's get married.

Yeah. Could have kids.

Mm.

Lots of boys like you.

I wanna settle down.

I think I've fallen in love.

Er, what do you do?

- I'm an actress. - Mm-hm.

Mm. I'm between jobs at the moment.

Did you see "Rock Follies"?

No.

Who's that?

I don't know. It's shit. I'll get it.

No future!

Oh li la. La la.

The wheel turns.

In his hands the roses of ecstasy burn.

The ashes are upon his brow.

Waters of Leith steal upon the golden eyed.

He dances into silence.

Oh li la. La la.

Colour deserts the world.

'I am...

'...the mirror.

'The fire that consumes all that is created.

'I bring the winter of thy flowers...

'...and the frost that secretly destroys the temple.'

Halt! Halt! halt!

Blacks, homosexuals and Jews are banned in Dorset.

Section One.

Passport. Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Any seditious literature, records, tapes?

Hey, hold it! That's my Elvis album.

That's on the blasphemous list, too. Right, on your way.

'My God, the English customs are deplorable.

'It used to be just the colour of your skin.'

'They have to be tough to keep the riff raff out.

Dorset's the only safe place to live now.'

'It's a tragedy that socialism and freedom weren't compatible.'

'It's wonderful, Borgia.

'It is all yours?'

'It used to belong to some aristocratic family.

'I requisitioned it.'

'Oh, well, carnation from Floris.

'Not all the good things have disappeared.'

Borgia darling, can I have a tank?

It would be just perfect for a Saturday afternoon stroll

down the King's Road.

Of course, darling.

You're my number one.

I'll make millions out of you.

This is my first trip to the country. It's really exciting.

I mean, all those trees and the animals.

I have a passion for fur.

They all sign up in the end, one way or another.

We lost Lounge Lizard,

and gained the Daughters of God.

Crabs.

Amyl! Maddy!

'Oh, my heart rejoiceth

'the roar of the surf on the shingles.

'Marvellous sweet music it is to my ears.

'Oh, what joy there is in the embrace of water and earth.'

'Yeah, a great elixir is the sea shore.

'Here one can dream of...

'...of lands far distant and the... the Earth's treasure.'

'The sea remindeth me of youth.'

Oh, John Dee, do you remember those days?

The whispered secrets at Oxford,

like the sweet sea breeze.

Codes and counter-codes.

The secret language of flowers.

I signed myself with rosemary.

A true alexipharmic against your enemies.

And I was selendine,

true gold as the new spring of learning.

You were my eyes then, as now with your celestial geometry.

You laid a path through treachery

and opened my prison, so that my heart flew like a swallow.

Sweet Majesty,

to me you are the selendine now as then before.

Balm against all melancholy.

Hm. Ah.

But I was young then.

'There and back.

'There and back.

'The waves break on the shores of England.

'The white cliffs stand against the void.

'We gaze seaward, contemplating the night journey.

'The sun sinks lower.

'The moon waits to make her entrance.

'In the south, at Tilly Whim...

'...a picture of wind on the sea.

'In the west, a vision of silver dew

'falling into a chalice flowing on a sea of pure gold.

'In the east, a black hoar frost.

'The sun eclipsed by the wings of the phoenix.

'In the north...

'...a howling chaos into which a black rain falls without ceasing.

'Now is the time of departure.

'The last streamer that ties us to what is known...

...parts.

'We drift into a sea of storms.

'And now Elizabeth and Dee

'go along the same great highway

'and the light of the air about them seemed somewhat dark,

'like evening or twilight.

'And as they walked,

'the phoenix spoke

'and cried with a loud voice...

'... "Come away".'