Original subtitles

This is fucking sabotage, this is. This has got McDonaghs all over it.

It's not the McDonaghs.

It was an electrical surge. Tommo took a direct feed off that thing.

And it was blowing a gale last night. It's fried everything.

Fuck's sake. That's all that fucking gear gone up in smoke now.

Prices. Prices are gonna rise.

I'm telling you, the McDonaghs are gonna be laughing their tits off.

- Hey! - Jesus Christ. What?

- What do you reckon then? - It's a surge from that storm last night.

Never mind that.

What about them buggers. They were down wind at the time.

What about them?

They're fucking stoned.

They need milking. I can't get them to shift.

The milk's all tainted.

I can't sell that to the supermarkets and

have the public getting mashed over their cornflakes.

They're not stoned, you dipshit. You're imagining things.

It's scientifically improbable. The smoke would go off into the ether.

There, look. They're stoned off their tits. Look, they're fucking giggling.

They're fucking cows, Jimbo. That's how cows always look.

- It's not funny. - It fucking is.

They're as stoned as bastards. I mean, come on lads. What am I supposed to do?

I'll tell you what you need to do now. Honestly, this is exactly

what you need to do. You go to the 24 hour and get us some Jaffa Cakes.

- Or a Dairy Milk. - Get him a Dairy Milk.

Me to you, to me, to you. Fucking Chuckle Brothers are back with us.

Watch out, lad.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, let's have a big round of applause

for our principal ballerina of the Bolshoi,

Cardi!

Tinsley Blanchett's hypnotist shows were legendary.

I mean, not just for the entertainment value.

He had them queuing out the door

just to have a go, hoping for the chance to forget themselves.

You know, all the worries, all the bollocks, just for 15 minutes

to become something else. I mean, Christ, who could blame him?

Now, all right. OK.

Now, you're like the bubble

floating up from the ocean floor.

That's it. Rise to the surface.

Three, two, one.

You're back in the room.

It is my honour

to introduce to you here tonight

the lord of the dance himself,

Mr Michael Flatley.

Hey, Albie.

Albie?

Hey, Albie. You did not see me there.

- Oh, sorry. Hi. - Hi.

Who are they for? You haven't started smoking, have ya?

No. They're for me uncle. No. They're for me auntie.

Got to go. See you.

Right. See ya.

Hi.

- Police. Get your fucking hands up. - Fucking hell.

Don't sneak up on me, dickhead. For one, I know jujitsu.

- Come on, give us a line. - I can't do that, Dylan.

What? You got loads. Don't be tight.

It's not a question of being tight, sunshine. I swore an oath.

What? An oath? What's this, The Lord of the Fucking Rings?

Weren't just me neither. We all swore it. The lads, Erin, Kath, Ringo and Babs.

Swear to God, Mavis's Irish dancing. It's getting better every year.

Shit, dude, you haven't given him any of that?

He knows man, about us.

What is this about a fucking oath?

For God's sake. Look, I wanna go down on record, I specifically said

not to call it an oath. That's bloody Frodo's idea.

- I said to call it a pact. - Hell, what pact? What's the idea?

I'll tell you what the big idea is, it's... Fuck you, Dylan.

It's simple. After the debacle that went down at Ringo and Babsy's wedding,

we all decided, never to give you Class A's ever again for as long as we shall live.

They make you morose and pathologically inclined to ruin everyone's night.

That's just bollocks.

Everyone's off their nut, having a great time

and you just become this paranoid harbinger of doom.

No. That's... That's exaggeration.

It's not you. You can't deal... You can't help yourself, man.

You do a line or you do a pill

and you start spouting shit like, you know...

- "I can't feel my heart." - Exactly.

Or "I'm 24 times more likely of having a bloody"

heart attack off cocaine." You know what I mean?

Statistically, you ruin everyone's buzz, man.

You're a buzz ruiner. Yeah, you ruin drugs for people.

- This's horse shit. - Is it? - Absolutely horse shit.

Remember that bloody wedding, you convinced everybody that the E's were poisoned.

They tasted strange. They tasted like fuckin', what was it, roll-on deodorant.

Think about it. How would you know what that tastes like?

- You wouldn't know. - Couldn't possibly know.

I know, I know. I'm sorry.

Oh, for God's sake.

Yes!

I hardly ever take it these days, to be honest.

It's really bad for you.

Oh, get us some nuts.

Something like 94% of them have, like, blood on them.

Yeah, teeming with hepatitis, apparently. Just FYI.

Oh, my God. Help me.

Get out. Don't come back.

- You're barred, you filthy bastard. - Don't be so harsh.

You're all right, Jerry, love. Look after yourself.

We'll see you tomorrow.

He's had a tough time of it.

Lost his missus to a heart attack.

With her, went all meaning in his life.

He's gonna die alone and he knows it.

He's adrift. Poor soul.

Don't say anything, just listen, right? Here me out, yeah?

I know... Look, I'm on drugs, but...

There are things, right? Feelings that I have buried. You never know when it's

gonna be too late. Erin, I'm terrified

of what it would be like to not be with you.

I wanna be with you.

You and Tyler. Yeah, you're all I want.

Nothing else matters.

If leaving this place is truly what you want,

if that'll guarantee our life with you,

the smile on that face, well, then I'll do it.

Let's fucking do it.

Look, I will do whatever you want, if it means that I get to be with you.

Fuck. Erin, Erin, Erin, I can't feel my heart.

Jesus!

What are you doing creeping around on the floor?

Scared the shit out of me, you pillock.

- I'm... - On the ground!

- Erin, I'm sorry! - Don't move.

- Do not resist. - I'm not resisting.

- Ronald Croft, I'm arresting you... - No.

No, that's my brother. That's not him. Ronnie's inside since 18 months.

- This isn't him. - See. - So where is he?

Who? Ronnie? He's in Grendon. He's doing eight years.

He absconded from day release,

assaulted the owner of the garage he was working at.

Check upstairs.

- You OK? - No.

Hey, don't worry. Could have been worse.

Ronnie could actually have been here.

Albie? Albie?

He's not here.

- God's sake. Who? Who isn't there, Albie? - Me. I'm not here.

All right. Open the door, please.

Where is he? Albie?

Albie!

Run outside for me, pal. I'm gagging of thirst here.

- All right, Ronnie? - All right, yeah.

He needs to go, Erin. We're harbouring a fugitive.

That's jail-time. That's Tyler and Kay.

That's us in jail. Would you just send him packing?

Listen. You heard what he said.

He's being bullied in prison. He's got drug debts.

- He's pissed off the wrong people. - I don't doubt it.

He pisses everyone off. That's what Ronnie does, all right?

He wreaks havoc and he ruins lives.

Have you forgotten about the credit card he took out in Tyler's name.

Yes, yes, I know, all right. Fuck's sake.

I just want to move away, honestly.

Get away from shit like this. It's not fucking fair.

Hey. Hey.

If you go, I'm coming.

- Do you really mean that? - Yes, I do.

I love you.

Your brother is a fucking dickhead. He's a parasite, Erin.

He will rob, he will cheat and he will lie to anyone

and any minute now the odd lot could be back knocking down that door.

Jesus, Erin, what's going on with this door?

You all right, Vin?

What's he doing? He's meant to be down for an 8 stretch.

He was. He's on day release. So he decided to come here.

What do you mean "decided to come here?" They let you do that these days in jail?

He's fallen out with the owner of the garage he was training at.

Yeah, man. He tried to attack us.

Proper, big, nasty bastard. Must have been 6'8".

And he just took an immediate dislike to me, Erin.

And I was like... I was there and he just started to lose the plot.

Accusing me of nicking his cashbox. I didn't even know it fucking existed.

Suddenly starts coming at me, know what I mean? So I'm

like that, slipping it, cos I'm a lover, not a fighter.

And then... I don't know. Next thing, you know,

I had no choice, so had to run him over.

Wait. What do you mean you ran him over? You kiddin' me?

Well, I wasn't going fast man. I was in reverse.

"In reverse"?

- Erin. Erin, I swear on Tyler's life... - Don't you dare.

What? I had no choice, man.

What? Like when they offered you that deal to grass up.

Dave Geffen and Arjan Khan, remember that?

I'm not having it,

- wasn't my fault. - Yes, it was. You know it.

And this guy is literally a shit magnet.

Get him out of here before he gets you all banged up.

See, this is what I'm talking about. No-one wants to see Ronnie Croft thrive.

Man's here, trying his best to open a new leaf.

- And the whole world is just against him. - Turn over. - You what?

Turn over a new leaf. Not "open a new leaf." "Turn open a new leaf?"

He literally doesn't understand the saying.

This is what I'm talking about. Pettiness. Pettiness,

pettiness, pettiness. This is what I'm up against.

Well, oh, I'm sorry, Dylan, that I wasn't having the time

to go to fucking... What's it called where you learn?

- School... - School

to learn to be a smart arse. But I was a bit busy,

cos I had to keep my sister from being put into care

because my mam and dad are both being sent down. Come on, we're family.

- All right, get off. - Fair enough. What's that?

Yeah, it's the cashbox. I couldn't fucking leave it, could I?

Unbelievable.

- Come on. - What do you mean? Fuck off.

Right, here's what we're gonna do. You two are gonna get him to Jim's. Right?

I'll have a word with Kath. She knows a guy with a boat

I'll see if he can get him across the water.

- He can go on living on Uncle Pat's farm. - What's Ireland done to deserve that?

Vinnie, please. Don't do it for him.

Do it for me. Tyler. Please.

Yeah. All right. Come on, let's get a shift on.

Right. And wait. Before you go, if the police come around here snooping,

I want everything that isn't legit out of the house. If it's nicked, I want it gone.

- The washer. - That's nicked, yeah.

- All right, dryer. - Yeah, it's nicked.

Microwave.

- Microwave. All came as a set, love. - Fuck's sake.

Anything that's electric, it's been stolen. TV and everything.

Right. Everything, out.

I'll get a van.

You know they don't milk themselves, don't you, Jim?

I know that, smart arse.

See that silver bucket, I'm waiting on her to do a piss test.

- A what? - Piss test. Drugs test.

You see any of that commotion on Denby Row?

Two coppers went out expecting a dead body.

Found a massive fuck off weed farm, instead.

Posted a copper outside standing sentry

so they can get a team and some vans down there,

- in the morning. - What? They haven't taken it?

What can you do at 11:30 on a Friday night?

Need manpower. Vans.

It's Erin. Hey, you. You get them boat from Liverpool.

Erin's coming to pick you up from here at 4:00am.

Yeah, OK, man.

Last time they raided one of those houses,

it was like professional grow lights and, and

- irrigation, temperature control... - See, she's not

used to all that weed. She's got the shits now.

We're gonna need a bigger van.

What?

- Have you not got anything else, no? - Nothing wrong with this.

Low mileage, surprising amount of storage as well and most importantly,

low profile, all right? Blends in unnoticed.

You said you had a van, dude. Said you had a fucking van-van is what you said.

Yeah, but this is a flippin' van-van.

But this, it's inappropriate.

It's a van. That's why they even call them ice

cream vans, innit? Do you want it or not?

- Aw, yeah. - All right. And erm...

- Gotta pump the brakes to make them work. - Pump the brakes?

- Exactly. - How is that a thing?

- Get in the van. - So ungrateful.

- Oke-a-doke. - What?

- None of you recognise the cop? - Let me have a look through them.

I thought that looked like him, dude, that's Carl Slater, man.

- Oh, wait. - Who? - Carl Slater.

This snidey little twat we were at school with.

- Vin's mortal enemy since year five. - Year four.

Grassed me up for nicking milk off the float.

He would get us in shit.

So, Vince started a little rumour about Carl, that got a bit out of control,

- became an urban myth. - What was the rumour?

That Carl bummed his nan's dog.

Spread like wildfire. Everyone believed it.

- Mud sticks 20 years later. - Car, car, car.

That looks like the McDonaghs. You know, I bet it's one of their farms.

Sorry, Barry. Cops have got it. Go on, piss off.

- There's a cop guarding the door in. - Even the McDonaghs quit.

There's no way of doing this. Let's go home.

You're a smart lad, dildo, but sometimes you lack a bit of ingenuity.

We could do it in seconds. How long does it take to fill a couple of bloody bin bags?

- How are we gonna get in though? - It's the perfect crime.

It's so fucking stupid no-one will think anyone will be daft enough to try.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

- That's not good. - No, it's still closed. Let's fuck it off.

Are you off your head? We've just gone through all that for nothing?

Come on.

Oh, fuck.

- Hello? - Vinnie?

- Vinnie, how are you, man? - Not so bad, man. What's going on?

Listen, I'm here with some friends from uni and we... The word is

there's a bit of a drought on with the old silage crop.

I happen to mention that I'm pretty tight with the main man.

And so, these reprobates were wondering if I could deliver the goods.

- You know anywhere we can get some? - That I do, Christoph.

Let me call you back in a sec?

Yes, Vinnie, hey, wait. Vinnie, look. If it's a problem,

I can come over to you. I'll just get in a cab.

Yeah, you can do that? Vin?

- Easy, Vin. - Ronnie, is that you? - Yeah, man. - For fuck...

You scared the shit outta me. What are you doing here?

- I'm here for the ganja. - The fuck you are.

- That's our gear that. How did you get in? - The back door, mate.

Are you havin' a giraffe. There's a back door?

Yeah.

Piss off before I lose my patience with you.

I ain't gonna do that, mate. You wanna know why? Finders keepers.

- Losers... Fucking weepers? - You bellend.

- Stop it. - Hey.

- Damn. Dammit. I'm all right. - Where are you?

Oh, man, see. Now what are we gonna do?

- I'm gonna murder this twat, Dylan. - Cardi! - I'm, I'm stuck.

This is the police. We are in the building. Come out with your hands raised.

The fuck are you supposed to be?

- Oi, lads. - Up here, Tommo.

Lot of dope in house... Oh, fuck off.

- How are you doing, lad? - Hang on a minute. You know this fella?

- It's Carl Slater, Ronnie. - Slater.

Carl, Carl Slater. I didn't even recognise you in that get up.

Dog bummer! Hey, well, I never.

I heard your nan went catatonic when she walked in on you

- up to your nuts in a poodle. - I heard it were a terrier.

No, it was a poodle, Tommo. Never bummed a fucking dog.

Wait, wait, wait. So, you go from being a dog bummer to being a cop.

People say I do daft shit. Tell me why you want

to go and do something stupid like that for?

There was a number of things that attracted me to the profession. But, I suppose

getting to put away inbred, pikey twats like yourselves was probably the main draw.

Strong words, man. Strong words from a kid who bummed his nan's dog.

- I didn't bum a fucking dog. - Carl, Carl, listen to me, man.

We didn't want this. We didn't mean to involve you in anything.

Well, you are involved now, so...

- You shut the fuck up, Ronnie. Christ. - Right, Dylan.

You're very quiet over there. So, this is where

hanging on to Vinnie's coat tails has got you?

Kidnapping police officers with criminal masterminds like Ronnie fucking Croft.

Should've listened to Mr McKelvey's warnings.

Nobody's kidnapping coppers.

We're not involved with Ronnie, that's just a

fucking babysitting job that's gone a bit awry.

Hang on a minute. You're gonna explain yourself

to bacon bollocks after he called you a pikey twat.

- He was talking to you, you mophead. - Was he?

- I was referring to all of ya, in general. - All right, look, can we just...

Let's just figure out a way, out of this that benefits us all, shall we?

Yeah? Yeah, OK, yeah. Sure. Untie me.

I will untie you. But then what?

And then, you all come with me to the nick.

- See, I don't wanna do that. I can't... - You don't have an option. Fuck.

There is no way out of this, Vinnie. You've screwed yourself proper this time.

You know what, mate, you know what? You're right about there being no way out of this,

but you are dead wrong about who's fucked themselves. Cos, yeah.

There's only one knobhead tied to a chair and that's not fucking me.

Ronnie, Ronnie, let's just stop calling each other names,

shall we? Try and figure a way out of this.

Negotiate. Is that you're saying? Negotiate with him.

Yeah.

You got him tied to a fucking chair. Am I the

only one who knows how a kidnapping works?

No, it's not... No, no, no, it's not a fucking kidnapping.

- It is. - It isn't a kidnapping. - Right, Vinnie.

The ball's in your court. And you know what? You're acting like an amateur.

- You're showing him you're weak. - I'm appealing to his common sense.

- Vinnie, he's a copper. - Oh, you're such a fucking genius.

What's your idea, then? What's your big plan then, Rob?

Basic, mate.

It's elementary stuff, right? You got two options but only one choice.

You let this dog fucker go and he trots back to his piggy, piggy mates.

Eh, trot back? And they all come down to

your gaff with their piggy piggy truncheons,

they twat your head in and beat you all down and they drag you off to jail. Or...

- You just eliminate the problem. - Do you mean fucking kill him?

- You're off your fucking head, Ronnie. - Do you know what, lads?

Enjoy... I hope you enjoy jail more than I did

cos you're gonna be there a long fucking time.

Come on, Vin, how long have we known...?

Look. Shittin' himself now, and rightly so.

He's ready to make a deal cos he's desperate.

And do you know what he's gonna do? He's gonna promise you the world now.

Aren't you? But the thing is, you know, and I fucking know

that whatever he says now is worthless. Yeah?

He leaves here alive, youse lot, you're going to jail, mate.

Help! I'm...

- Tape, tape, tape. - Calm down.

Fucking hell, whinge, whinge, whinge, whinge, whinge.

Someone get him a poodle. Jesus.

Come in, Bravo 12-57, over.

B1257 with the number on Slater's epaulette. They're calling him.

- Then fucking smash it up. - Don't fucking smash it.

- What's up wi' you? - How can he send the signal?

12-57 reading, go ahead control, over.

We're trying to reach, 12-57. Why the radio silence?

- Is everything all right over there? - Well, I just went for a dump.

- Why, did you want to listen? Over. - Copy that, 1257.

I've got a team together to dismantle this cannabis factory.

Be with you in just over an hour at 05:30.

Copy that, control. 1257, over and out.

- Cheers, Tommo, that was badass, man. - Yeah, I know.

Argh! It's digging in to me and you're pulling me up.

You've got a wedgie. You've got a wedgie. I can see your bollocks.

JJ, I need your help.

- Get me out of this fucking hole. - I don't care

that it's early, dude, I need your help, man.

- What are we doing? - What?

Well, we're all in.

- I think now he's coming out. - We're doing it.

- What? - We've got you, man.

Cardi?

Did you see that? That was like some proper You've Been Framed shit.

- Tell me you got that on camera. - I'm all right.

Hey, cool. Look what I've found. Fish gun!

No.

- Shine on. - Pecker head?

Ah, thought you could do with this.

All right, Carl.

Look, man, I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry about school. I took that fuckin job way too far.

I was an angry kid and a difficult time for me,

- back then... - Don't fucking bother. Just...

Just don't bother. You're making me cringe.

Fucking loser.

You know, I never imagined how low you'd sink.

But then again, how could you not, eh?

Spawn of a half-wit thief, mentally unstable mother...

I remember her showing up to school in her fucking nightie, crying.

You just stood there, in the playground.

Bet you remember that, don't you, Dylan?

"Vinnie, we're out of milk, Vinnie!"

Just fucking amazing.

- Close your fucking mouth. - Went in, she was,

just like you. Hey, did she ever show up again? No.

I wouldn't come back for you either. She's probably

chucked herself underneath a fucking train, mate.

Ashamed at creating such a backward, no-good, whatever the fuck you are.

You listen to me, Carl.

I'm gonna put you in a back of that ice-cream

van and drive you up to them hills

I'm gonna dig a pit, I'm gonna fucking put you in it and bury you underground.

The last thing you're gonna see is my face, me.

Grinning, as you beg to take them words back through gobfuls of soil you

dog-bumming twat.

Jesus, Tommo, man, what is going on here?

Lend someone a bloody ice-cream van, you don't

expect to be an accessory in kidnapping a bloody popo.

Fuck it. What else were you gonna do tonight, stay in?

- Tommo? - We've got a problem. - Vinnie? - What? - Tommo.

- What's going on, Tom? - There's someone here. - What?

Well, fuck. Is it the McDonaghs? What does he look like?

Looks like a right knobhead, red trousers.

Red trousers? Erm...

Oh, shit.

Vinnie?

Hello? Vinnie?

What the fuck...?

Vinnie, I can hear your phone.

Fuck.

- Vinnie! - Shit.

Vinnie!

- What're you doing here? - Can I get some of the doobage?

I got this chick, Leone.

She got frisky with me once at a Jamiroquai concert.

I don't care. How'd you even find me, Dude?

"Find your Friend". Here, look.

I don't even have find your bloody friend.

- It's great, it's handy. - Crying out loud.

I fucking do have it. How do I delete that?

- Are you having a party? - No... - Is that a weed house?

- No, it's not a weed house. - It is. - Piss off.

Fuck.

Get the fuck out. Fuck off.

Do yourself a favour, just do one, man. Less you know the better.

All right, but sort me out, come on. Leone.

- Wait there, wait there. - Yeah, yeah.

Hell's teeth.

- Fucking, Chris. - Who's Chris?

A pain in the arse.

Jesus. Wow.

- Hi, I'm Chris. - Are you kidding?

Hi. Hey, Chris.

- Hey, Chris, friend of Vinnie's. - Cardi.

- Hi, Cardi. Nice to see you. - Pleasure. Rose?

Very pleasant. It's a quite pleasant one, this one, yeah.

A friend of my dad, he's got a vineyard.

No. Fuck no. No, no, no, no.

What the fuck did I... Get out, dude. I told you man.

- Hello, Chris. Friend of Vinnie's, eh? - Fuck!

Hello, Chris. Friend of Vinnie's.

Look it's all right. Don't worry about me.

You are not cool. Don't touch it. Stop. Dude, I swear...

Go get the fuck out.

Ghost of Long John Silver.

Fuck.

Is that a real policeman?

I'm gonna get... I'd better get back to my dinner party.

No fucker leaves. Fuck.

- What's going on here, Vinnie? - Look, nothing. I'll just...

- I'll sort it. - Is this a sex thing?

You gonna gang-wank me or something?

You've dropped him in it now. Have to dig two graves tonight.

Would you just shut the fuck up, Ronnie?

I'll bury you if you don't put down that gun.

What've you got involved in, Vinnie?

- Who is this lad, Vin? - He's me GP,

and he's cool, he' cool. All right, no, he's all right.

Just, he's bound by, what is it?

Patient confidentiality or some shit.

Yeah? Yeah. Does that cover kidnapping coppers?

I'm pretty sure I'd have to report that sort of thing.

Do you wanna leave here alive tonight, you?

Well, actually even if it did fall under patient confidentiality,

in fact, I'd have a conflict of interest, cos Carl here

is also one of my patients.

You all right, Carl? I didn't recognise you with the gag on. You...

How's it... Are you feeling better down there?

Shut up. Stop making words, dude.

Just fuck me. He's fine, all right? He's cool, he's not gonna say nothing.

- Is he cool? - Yeah.

Yeah? Your mate's just admitted he's been a cop-doctor.

- A what? - A cop-doctor. - A cop-doctor? - Yeah.

- Cop-doctor? Is that a thing? Is it? - Of course it fucking is!

Of course it is. He's a doctor of cops, isn't he?

He's fucking one of them.

You're gonna have to have a long fucking think about why your mate

is talking to a fucking cop-doctor.

It wouldn't surprise me if he planned this whole thing

to set youse lot up.

Vin? Are you having a fucking giraffe?

Are you seriously listening to Robbie fucking Croft?

No, but why have you got a cop-doctor?

I haven't got a cop-doctor you fucking bellend.

- That's fucking it. - Hey, hey, hey.

- Come on, mate. - Wait...

I know you're in there, open this fricking door.

Dickhead.

- You all right? - Hey. - Where's Ronnie? He's not in the van.

- How'd you find over here? - "Find your friend".

- I'm not on "Find your friend". - He is.

God fucking dammit, Dylan.

No!

- Everything all right, is it? - Yeah! - Yeah?

- Don't come in. - Where is he? - No, no, no, no.

- Erin, no. - Erin, no. Fuck.

- Hi, Erin. - Hi, Erin. - How's things, Erin?

- The fuck's going on? - Just chilling out.

Please tell me this is just some sort of fucked-up sex thing.

That's what I said.

You don't understand what we've been dealing with.

- Your idiot brother's caused all this. - I asked you to look after him.

Keep him out of the way at the barn. Why is he in a weed farm

with a fucking copper tied to a chair? Who's he?

- He's a cop-doctor. - Ronnie, shut the fuck up.

This is exactly what I've been dealing with all day.

Threatening, bullying behaviour. "Shut the F up Ronnie."

"I'm gonna effing F you up, Ronnie."

And it's been hard, mate. It's been really tough.

Shut up, Ronald.

- You said to kill him. - I'm offering him options, Erin.

Shut up. Shut up.

Why is there a police officer tied to a chair?

All right.

Officer Slater, was standing guard outside,

we've had to accidentally kidnap him a little bit. Haven't we, Carl?

Carl... Carl Slater as in, Carl Slater that bums dogs?

Yeah. What are you all doing?

Stop it. Stop it with the dog bumming thing. Listen, it's not helpful.

He's still sore about that. He says we're all going to jail for kidnapping.

- You're all a bunch of fucking idiots. - Idiots, man.

- But you. - What? - You're a special kind of idiot, you are.

Erin...

How the fuck do you manage to ruin everything?

- I don't, I bring some colour to... - Yes, you fucking do.

You ruin your own life and you ruin mine as well.

- I'm not ruining it... - Yes, you are.

I'm an accessory now. I'm going to prison.

Erin, Erin.

- Tyler's gonna go to fucking care. - Erin. Erin.

Erin.

Come here, Ronnie. Fucking have you, Ronnie! Get off.

Erin, I'm not... Fuck.

Listen to me. I'm gonna go and deal with this.

Go and get everything in that van and get it out of here.

What about these two?

We're gonna have to take 'em with us.

Where is she?

Negotiate Cardi's massive hole.

Not for the first time, I'll tell you.

Listen, we've got about 35 minutes,

until two vans full of coppers descend on this place.

- We've gotta get out of here. - What's the point?

You know, I must've done something fucking terrible in a previous life.

I'm stuck on karmic roundabout and I can't get off.

What am I looking at for aiding and abetting?

This is all my fault, you know.

- It is. - It's not.

I dragged Dylan here.

I'm probably the reason Slater turned out like he did.

I took it out on him when my mum was bad.

They called it bouts, back then.

They didn't call it bipolar.

It was just bouts.

She was all over the place.

I mean, wallpapering the kitchen before breakfast one minute and...

standing in the school yard the next, crying cos we hadn't got milk.

I should've moved away.

But I was scared, you know, I was scared that

maybe if she did came back...

If she came back she won't know where to find me.

It's like when you're little, you know,

if you get lost in a supermarket.

My mum used to stay just stay put.

Stay put, I'll come and find you...

and I did. I stayed put...

and she just didn't come back.

It's been 20 years, I've been stuck in the same bloody supermarket.

She still haven't come back for me.

I'm supposed to listen to all your problems. Bloody offloaded me own.

What if he's got it? Tyler?

What if he's got bad blood and he got it from me?

He hasn't, he's fine.

And if he has, we deal with it.

I don't want him to know I'm his real dad.

I just don't want him thinking this is how you end up, you know.

No. I want him to be real man.

Like Dylan.

I reckon...

I reckon, if I didn't know my mum and dad,

you know if you could just get rid of all the bad memories...

I could've been a completely different person.

Just start fresh, you know.

- Oh, my God. - Erin? - I need five minutes.

Ten, max.

God's sake, Carl. It's ridiculous...

How much have you had to drink?

Who's been giving him fucking drinks? You did you bloody idiot, upstairs.

No more liquids for him.

He's like bloody Seabiscuit down here.

Why am I the only one holding his little, pale knob?

- Let me get in. - What? - I'm trying to help.

You're making it weird. It's like a threesome now.

- What? Do you need to pee and all? - Yeah.

- Right. Grab him, will you? - It's all right, I can do it.

Why isn't he strapped to the fucking chair?

- That was your job. - Not my job, it's your job.

Whoa, Carl. On me bloody hand.

- Fucking hell, fucking splash back. - Get off. Get off.

Me new jeans, you pillock.

I despair, fucking despair in there. Where's Dylan?

Dildo, can you text your bird and find out where she is.

We need to get the fuck out of her, dude.

It definitely looks like a sex thing.

What are you so happy about?

Come.

How do?

You're going to have a lovely long sleep,

and when you wake up you're going to feel wonderfully refreshed,

and unable to remember anything from the last 24 hours.

Counting back now from ten. Nine.

Eight. You did bum a dog.

Seven. Six.

It were a poodle.

Five. Four.

Three. Two.

One.

Thank you. Thank you.

- You are a bloody lifesaver, man. - Thank you.

- Namaste. - Namaste.

- Christ. - What a ledge. - He's a bloody lunatic.

Hell, we fucking did it. All right, come on, come on, come on. Come on!

Where's our Dylan? Dildo!

- Dildo! - Wait, where's Ronnie?

- What's he doing? - Adios dickheads,

it's been a pleasure. Erin, I love you.

Pump the brakes!

What a cracking night!

(corrections: certan)