Original subtitles

- No, I know, I know, I never thought a coffin

would cost so much.

- No, it's that one at the back.

I mean, 200 quid for a crown?

- Otherwise, it's hasta la vista kneecaps.

- If you need the money that bad,

I could maybe do you a favor and er...

Take the dog off your hands.

- I couldn't sell him.

- But I do need the dough.

- Well...

All right.

See you around, Monty.

- You're a beauty!

Yes, you are.

- No, we're quids in.

This posh bird was in before saying...

- He's just what I've been looking for.

Perfect for breeding.

- Oh, he ain't mine.

Just watching him for this fellow.

- Well, when he comes back in, get him to give me a ring.

Could be worth his while.

- How so?

- I'd pay over a thousand pounds for a dog like this.

I'll be waiting by the phone.

- And when this fellow comes back, pleading poverty,

I bung him a hundred quid.

And now we'll sell the dog on to Mrs. Big-shot Breeder.

I'm ringing her now.

And they say cheats never prosper.

Ringing.

Still ringing.

- Ah, there you go, Monty, back home safe and sound.

- Always has a smile on his face after a day with you lot.

Don't you, Monty, eh?

- He made us proud.

- Dog-in-the-bar!

Trick that takes him back to the old days, eh?

- It takes me back a while, too.

- Bomber?

Bomber, what is it?

Bomber.

Oh, no.

- Bomber?

Walkies.

Ah.

Just needs a bit more practice.

- I thought you could start doing the flop.

With the dog.

- Oh, we need something bigger than that, you know.

A mark that inspires us.

- Then hang on.

Hang on.

As the nun said to the bell ringer.

- The Royal Canine League Charity Ball.

- Yeah, just the other day.

Huge event, chock full of London society.

200 pounds a ticket.

Well, for those who paid.

- A worthy cause.

- Yeah, the event must have raised 50,000.

- Buy a lot of dog food.

- Would do.

But the Canine League received less than 10,000.

- Aha.

- So where did the rest of the money go?

- Lady Bartwell's handbag.

- Lady Bartwell?

- She's the woman who organizes the events.

- Crafty.

- Not the first time, either.

I checked another charity she held events for.

- Big events?

- Tiny check.

- Exactly.

- Why don't the charities kick off about it?

- Well, she never stipulates what she's going to give them.

- And they have to be grateful for anything they can get.

- She sounds perfect.

So how do we get to her?

- That, my dear Stacie, is what we have to find out.

- Yeah.

Okay, right.

Billy, listen up.

She lives in Chelsea, right?

She's got a chauffeur.

I want you to talk to him.

I want to know everything.

Where she goes, what she's doing, and who she's doing.

- Before my menopause would be nice, Derek.

- Ash, I want you to get in the house,

have a little mooch about,

see how she blows this charity money.

- Ash, you're on.

- Yes?

- I only turned my back for a mo'

and he was gone.

- Oh!

- Buzbee?

Buzbee!

- Madame, she not here.

- Did you hear that?

- Yes.

- It's coming from upstairs.

- No, no, no, the Denzi bag.

La bagga Denzi!

Yes, I know there are only six,

but I only want the one.

Yes!

No, no, I will not.

- I don't think that...

- Ah! Shh!

- Maybe you come back another time...

- Buzbee!

- What are you...

- Come to daddy! - Oh!

- Good boy!

Here we are.

- Sir, I...

- Poor thing.

Must be scared out of his wits, bless him.

- Yes, sir.

- Thank you so much.

- Fashion?

- Fashion.

She's always first in the season's latest designs.

- Yeah, but half the stuff in her wardrobe

still had the labels on.

- That's because it's gone out of fashion

by the time she's had a chance to wear it.

- Look, her driver said she was looking all over for some,

some bag.

- Yeah, I heard her banging on about that.

Something about there's only, er, six of them or something.

- The Denzi bag.

Ultimate limited edition, five owned by private collectors,

one occasionally lent out by the designer.

- What Clarissa wants, Clarissa usually gets.

Yeah.

- Over to you, Albie.

- She married her first husband for his money and title

and she changed her name from Cara to Clarissa

and thought she was set.

Then a few years ago, he finally saw through her and left,

leaving her a very generous settlement.

- How do we do a fashion con?

- Hmm.

How little I've taught you.

One of the world's most famous cons was a fashion con.

- Oh, yeah.

Legwarmers.

- No, no.

The emperor's new clothes.

- Ah, of course.

- Yeah, but that er, that is just a fairy story.

- Ah, but a very useful fairytale.

- Well, so what happened?

Fairytales passed me by when I was a kid.

- Billy.

Cover your eyes.

Cover your eyes.

Good.

Good, yes.

No peeking, no peeking.

Uncover your eyes.

There once was an emperor who was so vain

he only cared about being well-dressed.

Two swindlers heard about him

and told him that they made the finest clothes in the land

and they used a fabric that was so fine,

it was invisible to anyone.

- Stupid?

- Oh, unfit for office.

- Upon being shown the nonexistent clothes,

the pompous emperor said,

"These are the most beautiful garments I've ever seen."

And everyone agreed, as no one wished to appear stupid,

with the exception of one little boy,

who suddenly stood up and said...

- He looks ridiculous!

He looks ridiculous!

He looks ridiculous!

He looks ridiculous!

- But by then, the swindlers had taken his money

and his dignity.

- Yeah, that's wonderful, wonderful.

But before Albert tucks us up with a glass of milk,

I'll just remind everybody it's just a fairytale.

- No, no, no, but what you're saying, Albert,

is it's all about the hype.

- Exactly.

Yes, yes.

But we have to convince Clarissa

that we have the most fashionable commodity in the land.

- And then we make her pay for it.

- Now you're talking my language.

Billy,

I've got a job for you.

- Billy!

What's going on?

- Hey, what's going on, Nate?

You all right?

- Yeah, not bad, not bad.

- What's happening?

- Danny.

We don't even need teabags.

- That was just a cunning ruse on my part.

- Ingenious.

Why?

- Okay, I want to sound you out.

I think Billy is ready to play the inside on this one.

- Wait, wait, wait, are you sure?

- Absolutely.

- So how'd you find me?

- Asked about.

Some guys heard you were doing cons.

Couple more questions and here I am.

You look all right, though.

Bit different from the old days, but nice.

- Well, he has come a long way.

- In a very short space of time.

- And shown he can be trusted.

- But can he think on his feet?

He has to be trusted with any eventuality

working the inside.

- He can do it.

- It's just that when I heard you was doing so well,

I thought you might like to help out an old mate.

- Well, how much are we talking about?

- About 20 grand.

- 20 grand, yeah?

I can't get that sort of money.

- All right.

All right, why don't we talk about it over a drink?

Eddie's Bar, maybe?

Then I can meet up with your new mates,

fill them in on the Billy that they don't know about.

- Listen, if you mess this up for me...

- What's wrong?

What, they don't know you used to be a pusher, then, Billy?

- Aha, Billy!

- Billy. - Hey!

Come on, sit down, Billy.

- Come on.

- What?

- Sit down.

- There's something we need to talk to you about.

- We want you to work the inside on this one.

- Oh?

- Yeah.

Listen.

We know you, we trust you,

and we officially want to make you one of us.

- So how about it?

- That's cool, man.

- Ah, right on!

Good boy!

- Good man.

- Mwah!

- Now, where's my change?

- Yeah, yeah, I just want one of those

Denzi bags for the missus.

Nah.

Yeah, it's er, it's Ritchie.

Guy Ritchie.

You'd rather lend it to that pocket-sized pinhead

than to the queen of pop...

Kate Moss. Premiere tonight.

- Perfect.

- Kate's assistant, bodyguard.

Ready?

- Can't believe all the fuss over one bag.

She seemed like a real piece.

- She's more than that, Billy.

She's stealing from charity.

- Yeah, but we're stealing from her.

- Grifters don't steal.

They con.

There's a difference.

- Oh, is there, though?

- The con is an art form.

Lady Bartwell is a lowlife,

down there with people who rob old ladies

or push drugs on kids.

Taxi!

Wish me luck, Ash.

- Best of British.

- Don't you mean Russian?

- Oh, Lu.

Lu.

That's not a...

Is that a Denzi bag?

- I couldn't resist when he sending it over.

Such a darling.

- You know Denzi?

- Little.

A little.

- Oh, you haven't got a drink.

Oh, no.

Girl!

A glass for my friend.

- I really shouldn't...

- There, there, no, no, no, nonsense.

I'm Lady Bartwell.

- Sofia Petrovna.

- Ah!

So tell me,

how come I don't know you?

- Haven't forgot about me, have you, bruv?

I thought I would have heard from you by now.

- Look, I told you I can't get the money.

- But you're working on a con now, yeah?

- Yeah, bruv, but I'm the new kid, yeah?

All I do is the running about, innit.

- Nah, I don't believe you bruv.

- Look, I was out getting teabags when you cornered me.

- Yeah, yeah.

- I'm being serious.

Look, they don't trust me with anything decent, yeah?

- So it won't be a big deal if I tell them about you, then.

You got three days.

- We're based in New York.

Vlad's business, you know,

but I'll be back here in London in the fall.

- Well, you and your husband must come to one of

my little charity dos.

- Ah!

I, too, also do the charity work.

- Really?

- I help the struggling designers.

That's how I know Lu.

- Well, I'd hardly call her struggling.

- Nyet?

Picture five years ago.

Stripey tights, piggy tails in the back room in Beijing.

- Lu Choi?

- Piggy tails.

But I saw something in her work,

something nobody else had.

I call Vlad, we sponsor for a show,

anonymous, of course.

- Of course.

- But it has its advantages.

I must go over and talk to Lu.

- And so that's why you're in London?

To er, to chase the next big thing?

- It could be the biggest thing yet.

- All right, guys?

Did she go for it?

- Darling, she is thinking I was fabulous.

- Well, as well she should, my dear.

As well she should.

- Ash, where do we go next?

- She has tea with an acquaintance every Thursday,

Blenheim Hotel.

- Blenheim?

Blenheim.

Why does that ring a bell?

Oh, yeah.

- You said you'd call.

- Oh, Tina, babe, I wanted to, honestly.

But me mum,

me mum washed me kecks with your number in them.

- You put my number in your phone.

- Unbelievable.

Completely knackered it.

But granted, it has never been whiter.

- Look, what if the manager finds out?

- Oh, come on.

He didn't find out last time we used a room, did he?

- You've got until five.

- Yeah.

- Then the Spanish Ambassador's checking in.

- Okay.

You are a little angel.

- I'm a mug.

- Hello again.

- Clarissa.

- Oh, how lovely.

Are you here for tea?

- No, I stay here.

- Well, then I would love it if you'd join me for a drink.

- I'm so sorry, I have delivery in my suite.

- Well, then I'll join you.

Perfect, yes?

- You're not expecting someone?

- No, no.

- Clarissa!

Sweetie, darling!

- Cancer, AIDS, the homeless, the starving.

I feel as if I've picked up where Diana left off.

- Mm.

And you also love fashion like the Princess.

- We're two peas in a pod.

Now, tell me,

you mentioned a brand new designer when we first met.

- I did?

- Oh, come on, now, Sofia, don't be coy.

I'd love to know who it is.

- Excuse me.

Ah!

- I'm sorry, Felix.

No.

It's strictly tickets only, I told you that.

No, I don't want you down on your knees.

At least not to beg.

Felix, I've got to go, love.

All right.

Keep it warm.

Bye-bye.

Sofia, lovely.

Mwah!

Felix du Bois driving me nuts.

Vogue are desperate to get in tonight,

but you know what Lorde's like.

Oh!

I didn't realize you had company.

- Erm, Lady Bartwell, this is Symon Darnell.

- Oh!

It's a pleasure to meet you, Symon.

So, tell me, is this Lorde your hot new thing?

- Erm, I'm so sorry, Clarissa.

I really cannot say.

Erm, is this it?

- This is it.

- Erm, would you excuse me just for one moment, Clar?

- Yes, of course.

I'll just wait here.

- Oh, Symon, I'm so excited.

- You ready to see it?

- Oh, Symon, it is amazing!

It's marvelous.

Really marvelous!

Oh, the button.

The button, the details.

Please, could I try it?

Could I try it on, please?

- Out by five.

Spanish ambassador.

- The way it just hangs there.

- Oh, go on, have a try.

- Hello?

Symon Darnell's phone.

- Felix du Bois.

Is Symon available?

- Erm, no, he's not at the moment.

- I will call back.

- No, no, can I help?

Is this about the Lorde show?

- Yes, he assured us it was for potential investors only.

- Right.

- So how is it Annie Leibovitz has just landed at Heathrow?

Is Vanity Fair coming?

- Erm...

- I know you people think you have

the hottest thing in fashion, but I'm warning you

it would be a mistake to snub Vogue.

So get us on that list!

- Right, er, yes.

Well, I'll have to speak to Symon.

- Make it happen!

- Was that meant to be French?

- Classic Normandy with a nod to the Loire region.

- With a nod to Clouseau, more like.

- Eddie, my friend.

I need to ask a favor.

- No.

- Yes, yes, Symon.

So when will I know exact location of the show?

- Don't worry.

I'll call you at six, I'll give you the password.

All right?

Mwah!

Big kiss for a big night.

Lovely to meet you.

- You, too, Symon.

You, too.

- Well, I think I might have another cup.

- No.

- We only want to borrow the bar.

- It's not a library book.

- Okay, okay.

How about we settle this with a little bet?

- No. No bets.

- I'll bet you 200 quid...

- You're wasting your breath.

- I can drink 3 pints...

- I'm not listening.

- Quicker than you can drink...

- La, la, la, la, la, la! - Three shots.

- That's all?

- They still charge you even if you don't eat them.

- So I just have to drink these

quicker than you can drink those

and I'm 200 quid up?

- Spot on.

But if you lose...

- Yeah, I'll lend you the bar.

- Yeah.

The only rule is we're not allowed

to touch each others glasses.

- Fair enough.

- Ready, Eddie.

- Ready.

- Get out!

- Good afternoon.

- Ah!

- Thank you.

- I just wanted to welcome you personally

and, as acting manager, say if there's anything you need

while you're here, don't hesitate to call.

Come along, boys.

Chop, chop.

- It's not looking good for you, is it, mate?

I think I'll take me time, savor the moment.

See, you always think you're so clever, don't you, eh?

"Poor Eddie, he's a soft touch,

"he's an easy target."

But for once I'm gonna be the one who comes up...

What are you doing?

- Ah-ah-ah!

You can't touch me glass, remember?

Cheers, Ed.

I'll see you tonight.

- So, does this turn into a pumpkin at midnight?

- No, my dear, it turns into a felony.

- Is she following?

- Uh-huh, like a lamb to the slaughter.

- Go on.

- Have a nice night.

- Oh, I'm Lady Bartwell.

I'm here for the er, private investors show.

- Password?

- My name is my password.

- No, funnily enough, it's not.

And I thought you said you were a lady.

- You lost something, love?

- Oh!

Did erm...

Did you deliver the clothes?

- Ready to play the inside?

- 'Course.

- There's the man, yeah.

- Is that gonna be enough, yeah?

- Yeah, that'll do.

- Did she go for it?

- Yeah, she managed to wheedle the address out of me.

Lorde's secret location for a 10 quid bribe.

- Christ, she is cheap.

- I'm surprised she didn't ask for change.

- Yeah, well, she realized there's no point

in trying to get in here.

My bet is she'll head for his studio tomorrow.

- Okay, are we sorted for clothes?

- Ash and I are Central St. Martin's bound tomorrow.

- Great.

Then we get to watch our shiny new star rise!

- Oh, for God's sake!

Get in the car and hide.

- But I agreed to sponsor the show

and now we're making him wait for money.

Nyet, Vlad.

It was one night and it meant nothing.

Are you going to keep to punish me?

Just get me that money.

- We cool?

- Yeah, we're cool.

- Good man.

- Hello?

- Who are you?

- I'm er... - Symon!

- I'm Lady... - Symon!

- Lorde, what is it now?

- I just wanted to erm...

Sorry.

You remember me from yesterday, don't you?

- Yes, of course.

But you really shouldn't be here.

- No one should be here!

This is my sanctuary.

- Thank you, I'm dealing with it.

How did you find us?

- Well, someone must have talked!

- Er, it was Sofia.

- Sofia?

- Yes, she...

I was meeting her for lunch and she told me to come here.

- She told you to come here?

- Mm-hmm.

- Was that wrong?

- I'm sorry.

- I can't believe it!

- Lorde!

- Idiot!

- Mr. Devane will see you now.

- But I think my interview's meant to be with Lisa Coyle.

- Trey, yes.

Lisa will see you right after.

It's a two-part jobbie.

Come on.

- Thank you.

- Pleasure.

Linc, this is Trey Farmer.

- Trey, come in, come in, sit down.

Make yourself comfortable.

Just relax.

I'm going to give you one hour, 60 minutes,

to create the most imaginative outfits you can

out of this.

- I'm sorry about all this.

- Lorde's ferocious with his privacy.

- I just think Sofia wanted a second opinion.

I don't suppose there's any chance

I could have a little look at the collection, is there?

- I'm sorry, no.

And Sofia shouldn't have said anything.

- Look,

I'd love to take you and Lorde for lunch

to make up for all this nonsense.

- Well, Lorde's very picky about where he eats.

- Then everyone was nuts for testicular cancer.

What did you say this was again?

- Goat.

- Goat, how unusual.

- So.

How do you help the kids?

- Kids?

- Kids on the street.

- Mm.

I did a benefit last year for children.

Finger buffet, two Spice Girls, wonderful.

- Lorde is driven by a sense of social responsibility.

That's why we chose Sofia to be our sponsor.

Her work for charity is exhaustive.

- Well, yes, I understand,

but just how much of a social conscience you can have

with mafia money, I'm not quite sure.

- Mafia?

- Well, it's not for me to say,

but I do feel that some of Sofia's

connections in New York are, well, shall we say, dubious.

- We're taking mafia money?

- Look, I didn't know about that.

- No.

I want out.

- But we've already agreed.

- Where's the money?

- Well, I don't know.

She's getting it, isn't she?

- From where?

Gun running?

Child prostitution?

- Drugs.

- You didn't like any of the other investors, remember?

You said Elton was looking at you funny.

- Well, pull the connection.

- Maybe erm, I could help?

- So, after looking at your charity work

and comparing your astral chart with Lorde's,

he would like to ask you to sponsor his first collection!

- That's wonderful.

Wonderful!

And I can't believe that I finally get to see the clothes.

Yes.

Okay.

Tomorrow night it is.

- She's officially wetting herself.

- Are the clothes all ready?

- Our St. Martin's prodigy excelled himself.

- Is she really going to cough up a hundred grand for them?

- She will if we've done our job right.

- Hey.

You did well today, son.

Can't possibly go wrong.

- I'll be back in a sec.

I just forgot my phone.

- Oh, just as it's your round.

- Outside.

- Listen, Billy, I just...

- Outside.

You're not going to screw this up for me, yeah?

- All right, man, cool it, man.

- No.

Look, I fit in here.

This is what I do now.

I'm not gonna let you piss all over that.

- I don't want to, all right?

- Well, then don't mess with me.

'Cause I'll fight for this.

- No, I know, all right?

I know.

- Then what the hell are you doing here?

- I'm desperate, all right?

I was running some money for Neil and the guys, innit.

But I had this deal on the side.

- So you're messing with gang money?

- It was supposed to be my way out of there, innit?

Then I got screwed

and now I owe 'em 20 grand.

- Shit.

Why didn't you tell me that's what the money was for?

- 'Cause it's just like back in the day, innit?

Nathan screws up, Billy bails him out.

- And now you're threatening me.

- I'm scared, bruv.

- Yeah, me, too.

- This new crew must really mean a lot to you.

- We're tight.

- A bit like we used to be, eh?

- Yeah.

Look.

How long you got till you have to pay up?

- Three days.

- We finish our con tomorrow.

Soon as my check's cleared, I'm gonna give you my share.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- You sure?

- Yeah.

- You're the man, bruv.

- You should have told me the truth, though.

- Yeah, I know.

It's not always easy being honest, though, is it?

- You ready?

Listen.

Stop worrying, all right?

She's prime rib.

We show her the clothes, she hands us a check.

Va-va-voom.

- It's just...

- Hello?

- This has to go right.

- It will.

Lady Bartwell.

- Clarissa.

I told you.

- Mwah!

- Lorde!

Symon, Lorde, let me introduce you

to my business associate, Reece Cummings.

- Business associate?

- Oh, he handles all my financial affairs.

I never make a move without him.

- Good evening.

- Mm.

Symon?

- Clarissa, we really need to talk.

You know how private Lorde is.

- Oh, yes.

And I'm still really down with all that.

But if I'm going to invest 100,000 pounds,

then I need to be 100% sure, so to speak.

- Are you doubting me?

- Lorde, no.

No, you won't even know that Reece is here.

- Well, absolute discretion and control

are paramount for Lorde.

- You know that's how I work.

- Well, that's not how business works.

- I don't want him here.

- All right, look, we'll just...

- I don't want him here!

- Please let me...

- This ruins everything!

- I'm so sorry.

Oi!

You got to calm down.

- She might be primed, he's not.

We have to get him out of here.

- No, no, no, then he's gonna know something's up.

- He's gonna know something's up

when he sees the clothes anyway.

- No, he won't.

No, he won't, not if we give him the pitch of our lives.

- I can't afford to lose this money.

- We won't.

Billy, one of the rules of working inside, yeah,

is you gotta be cool whatever happens.

- Yeah.

- Okay? - Right.

- Right? - Yes.

- Now, let's go out there and sell 'em a dream.

Tonight we'll show you three key pieces

from Lorde's premiere collection,

a collection that'll turn the fashion world on its axis.

It's time for a new religion.

A true religion!

Lorde!

A designer that speaks to our souls,

our hearts, our minds.

- Lorde!

- Celebrating the individual spirit.

Unfettered, unchained, uninhibited.

- Lorde.

- Flipping the finger at the greed and duplicity

of the modern world.

- Lorde.

- This season don't warm yourself by the fire,

be the one to light it!

Lorde!

- Lorde.

- I don't believe it.

- Neither do I.

- Oh, Lorde, it's...

It's...

Brilliant. - Bollocks!

- What? - What?

It's a joke.

- Oh, Lorde.

Darling, I love it.

It's the ultimate fashion statement.

Don't you see that, Reece?

- What I see are three sacks.

- His mind is caged.

- Clarissa.

You know my first rule of business.

Only invest when you can guarantee a return.

- This is not a business.

- No, this is art.

- No, it's a joke.

I've seen enough.

- Well...

- Go.

Go!

We choose the investors, not the other way around.

It's just Lorde thought you understood him.

He thought you understood fashion.

- I do.

- But she understands good business better.

Clarissa, let's go.

- Oh.

Maybe it is

too much of a risk.

I am so sorry, boys.

- How about a show?

- What?

- A few people from the industry.

When you hear their responses,

you'll know you're doing the right thing.

- Now, we don't have to jump through hoops

to prove ourselves, do we?

- Symon, I like her.

I don't want Sofia or the other investors.

- Lorde, you know we like to keep it private.

- I feel with Clarissa behind me,

I'm ready to show my entire collection.

- Lorde!

- It's okay, it's okay.

- A fashion show.

There you are, Reece.

Now, will that convince you?

- If the response is positive,

then and only then, will we invest.

But it's a pretty big if.

- Hmm.

- You see?

I knew they'd convince you in the end.

- I'm not convinced.

You think I'll trust the band of merry men

they'll rustle up?

- What do you mean?

- I think we should send out a few invites of our own.

- Derek!

And there was me thinking you'd slipped into a coma.

- What was he thinking?

- Danny...

- No, I'll answer that.

He wasn't thinking.

- She was out the door.

- Yeah, but then we should have regrouped, right?

We tackle it another way.

We don't offer a bleedin' fashion show!

- Look, it's possible, you know.

Just a small show with a few grifters.

- No, no, no, no, no, we're going to have to present

a complete collection.

I mean, three sacks aren't gonna cut it, are they?

- I told you, Billy, when you work the inside, mate,

you've got to stay cool.

- Danny, go easy on him.

It's his first time.

- Look, it's not that.

- Well, what is it then?

- Look, I...

I just didn't want to let you guys down, that's all.

- Well, look, it's not the ideal solution,

but we can pull it off if we work together.

- Okay.

Okay.

Looks like it's showtime.

- "Phantom," "Joseph," "Evita,"

he want new lighting rigs for the lot.

Yeah, but Andrew, sorry, Lord Lloyd Webber won't commit

till he's seen them all in action,

so a demo would be really useful, yeah?

- Mr. Coen.

Edith Scott, Daily Mail.

McQueen's just named you the most influential

fashion lecturer in the country.

Care to comment?

- He did?

- Yeah, he did.

- Oh.

- Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

- Oh.

- Care to give me a couple of soundbites?

- Now, boys and girls, I want you to know

I don't believe in conventional teachings.

- Felicia, darling, you'll love it.

- Right, Ash has got us a location.

We need some models.

Lose the hat, Phil.

Now, the look is stylish.

All right, Mike?

You look lovely, Jess.

Settle up with you later.

Let's do it.

- Yeah, I know 200 pounds sounds steep,

but it is Lorde, remember.

- Look, you're sure nothing will go wrong this time?

- It won't.

I promise, yeah?

- 'Cause that's it.

After tonight, I'm finished.

- Welcome, welcome, come in.

Enjoy, my friend, enjoy.

Welcome to the world of Lorde.

Have a great time.

- Richard Graydon, GQ.

- Mr. Graydon.

- Knowing you're taking this woman is payment enough.

- Speak of the devil.

Clarissa!

- Symon!

- Look at you!

Mwah!

Who and what are...

- Symon, I've been a bit of a naughty girl.

- What do you mean?

Who are all these people?

- We invited a few select guests of our own.

- But we agreed...

- Oh, Symon, they're all my friends

and they know everything about fashion.

They're going to love Lorde.

- This is way, way out of order!

- No, I'll speak to Lorde.

He listens to me.

Baroness!

- You can't do this.

- We have.

- We said we'd organize the guest list!

- Oh, Lorde, I'm sorry.

- You've ruined everything!

- Lorde!

Lorde!

For goodness sakes!

- Oh, Lorde.

- Remember!

Oh!

I'm sorry.

- This is bad!

- If you've sent out invites willy-nilly,

the major fashion houses could infiltrate us.

Versace, Dior...

- Er...

It'll all be fine.

You'll see.

- Brilliant.

One fashion show, one big balls-up!

- Gentlemen, welcome.

- Hello, everyone.

I know we're running a teeny bit behind schedule,

but when you see what I've got to show you,

I know you'll agree it was beyond worth the wait.

Now, for the first time,

I give you my discovery.

The premiere haute couture collection

from Lorde!

They love it.

- What?

- They love it.

I can't tell you.

They're all sitting there, you ought to see their faces.

Lorde.

I'm going to be your new sponsor.

- No!

- It's nearly time to take your bow.

- Are you ready?

- Yes.

No! I can't do this.

- But you have to go out there.

- My clothes speak for me.

- Lorde, you must!

- I can't show any more tonight.

- But they'll expect to see the designer at the end.

Or at least a representative of the designer.

- Well, you put on one of my frocks and you go.

- What?

No, I couldn't.

Could I?

- You supported me.

You understood me.

I want you to have everything you deserve.

- Oh!

- And she's gonna get it.

- Yeah.

- This is ridiculous.

I will not stay here and be insulted by this rubbish.

- This is utter poppycock!

200 pounds this cost.

- Total garbage.

- She's taken our money and taken us for fools.

- It is rubbish.

- Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.

Your hostess for the evening,

Lady Clarissa Bartwell!

- My reputation is in tatters.

Thank God I didn't invest.

- Oh, but erm...

You did.

- You.

- Thank you.

- To us.

- To us. - To us.

- And here's to Lester and Monty for the tip-off.

- Monty!

All right, Lester?

- Hello, you lot!

Now, I thought you ought to see this.

- What's that?

- She seems to have sent out an awful lot of these.

- The whole thing's busted.

- Shit.

Dog-in-the-bar.

The perfect plan B.

- Danny, we said no more dog-in-the-bar.

- I know, but this is dog in a bar with knobs on.

Bloody great gold and diamond-encrusted knobs.

- Gentlemen, welcome.

- How are you doing?

So, a million pounds and we get exclusive rights, right?

And you have those?

- Lady Bartwell and I snapped up the little genius

the moment we saw the collection.

- He's an extraordinary talent.

- So we have a deal, huh?

All right, then we'll be waiting by the phone.

Take it easy.

- I was just being foolish.

Now, a hundred thousand we'd said.

- Look, I'm not sure now.

- Sorry?

- As there are all these fashion people here tonight,

you know... - Yeah, yeah.

But they're not Clarissa.

They won't respect you like she does.

They're nasty money men.

Now, do you have a surname or is it just Lorde?

- I'll tell you what.

You add 50K, I'll sign.

- 150,000?

- Yeah.

Cash.

- What?

- I don't like banks.

Nasty money men.

- Clarissa, stall the show.

Just, just do it!

Drive, Derek.

- I know we're running a teeny bit behind schedule.

- Who'd have thought it?

Danny Blue with a plan B all of his very own.

- I think it's going to be a long time

before anyone goes to one of Lady Bartwell's events again.

- Do you want a top-up, mate?

- No, thanks.

- Come on, you more than proved yourself.

We're 50 grand up because of you.

- You're the man of the hour, Billy.

- Yeah.

Look.

There's something I want to tell you.

About me.

And what I used to do.

- Did you get it?

- There's 50 grand there.

- What?

They only wanted 20.

- It's not for them.

It's for you to get out, start again.

Disappear, Nathan.

This is your chance.

- So what, how'd you get all this?

- I had a little help from my friends.

- Thanks, man.

- Take care, yeah?

- Yeah, I will.

Thanks, yeah?

- I can't believe this.

A million pounds.

- Think how many charities you can help with that.

- And who said cheats never prosper?

Still ringing.

Still ringing.

- Well, good day for you, mate.

Clarissa humiliated and we still walk away

with 100 big ones.

- In all fairness, that money should be donated to charity.

- Hang on a sec.

- Oh, come on, Danny.

We can give half to charity.

- Half of it?

- Yeah, at least.

- You are joking, yeah?

- No.

- I've never been more serious in me life.

- Yes, we are.

Come on, we agreed.

- Did I agree?

- Come on, Danny.

- Or we could give it to the dog's house.