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We're making the Northern Powerhouse
a reality and rebalancing our country.
We will build a better Britain.
It will be a Britain renewed.
Levelling up is a fantastic mission.
Levelling up. Levelling up. Levelling up.
All aboard!
Come on, girls, are your legs not working this morning?
Morning! Morning!
Last call for scholars, slackers, superstars, and skivers.
Sheffield Spires Academy welcomes you all.
Gum in the bin provided, Jaygo,
and I'll be checking round the Portakabins at break time,
in case you're thinking of sparking one up.
All aboard!
Big baps!
Get your big baps here!
Do you know how offensive that is?
What's offensive about big baps?
Bless. We'll have a chat later.
Beep, beep, beep, beep! Beep!
Thanks, guys.
Love you.
Love you, all.
Gate's closing.
Hurry up, Mandy, before they release the lions.
Ah, brightest lass in the school.
Destiny Schofield.
You could go places if you wanted.
You all right, Des?
- Gate's shut. - Irene will let me in through kitchens.
Or you could come with me down shopping centre.
I've got double physics.
Double physics.
Good times. Double physics.
Tough one.
Ah, bollocks.
Single to Parkwood Springs, please, driver.
You're not coming on here with that.
- With what? - Your mucky shoes. What do you think?
Oh, give over.
You let her on with that buggy, didn't you?
Well, surprisingly, buggies are allowed, but mattresses are not.
Ah.
They let parrots on airplanes and monkeys.
Emotional support animals for if you're scared of flying.
Don't tell me. This is your emotional support mattress.
Could be.
- Because you're scared of buses? - Got it.
- Then walk! - Oh, for God's sake, just let him on!
- The people say yes.
And the driver says no.
- Come on, mate.
What if I buy a ticket for me mattress?
Can't say fairer than that, can it?
Two singles to Parkwood Springs.
- Full fare? - Yes, or bloody no?
Mattress is basically brand new!
Don't make me regret asking this.
Under 16 years old
gotta be half fare.
Stop the bus!
- After all that? - Des!
Give me bloody strength.
Des!
Des! Des!
Des.
There's some nutter shouting for you.
- I know. - Dessie.
- Des, he's got a mattress on his head. - I know.
- Des! - It's your dad.
- Cal, I know. Jesus. - Des!
All right, kid?
I've seen you from the bus.
Been a while, eh?
How you doing?
Yeah, fine.
Tried calling you.
Oh, well, I got a new phone, so--
Right, uh, well I'll, uh
Here.
I'll take your number.
How are these numbers so tiny?
- I can't--
- Give it here. - Thanks.
- Nice mattress, Mr Schofield. - Good, eh?
- Nearly new. - Ah.
Hey, Des, you can have it if you like.
Oh, I'm good for mattresses.
Right.
- Yourself? - Uh, not today, thanks, Mr Schofield.
Right.
- There you go. Tara. - Thanks.
Tara.
Oh. Thanks.
- Bye, Mr Schofield. - Bye.
- Wait up, Des. - I'll call you!
Des, I like your hair!
- Mmm. - Dessie.
They saw. They'll get security.
- What's your problem? - No problem.
- Dessie. - Here. Eat the evidence.
- I've got double maths this afternoon. - Ah, don't be a wuss.
Totally comfortable with my wussy side.
What would I want a fucking mattress for, eh?
What's wrong with him? Weirdo.
He's friendly, though.
Barely seen him since he fucked off, or talked to him, nothing.
- Didn't have your number, to be fair. - Cal, don't be fair.
Righto.
[present And she'll be joining us with her recipe for lasagne.
Then, how much money has Chelsea,
last year's canine winner of Britain's Got Talent , made?
A-A dog won Britain's Got Talent?
- Is that what I'm hearing? A dog? - Yep, clever little bugger.
Is that what goes for talent these days?
Forget about William Shakespeare, for instance.
Well, Shakespeare's dead.
Or Winston Churchill.
Also dead.
So what about Jane Austen, Queen Victoria, or the Beatles?
I don't know. Picasso for God's sake.
Dead. Dead. Mostly dead. And Spanish.
Not really picking up the clues here, are you Gerald?
But a dog?
Says it all, doesn't it?
Exactly what's wrong with this country.
On the contrary, that's democracy at work, that is.
Democracy? You'll be having it up for Prime Minister next.
Perfectly possible. As a matter of information,
- Caligula made his horse a Roman Consul.
Shut up.
I'd vote for that dog. I think it's rather sweet.
She couldn't be worse than what we've got already.
Is it to takeaway?
- What? - Your tea, sir.
To takeaway?
No, why would it be?
Because if you don't zip it, I'll be throwing you out.
There'll be no politics chat in the Big Baps, thank you very much.
I wasn't being political, was I?
Everything's political.
So, what am I allowed to say?
Glad you asked.
Free speech is a fundamental human right, Dennis.
Not in the Big Baps, it's not.
Sorry.
- Look who it is, Ben. - All right, kid?
Hi, grandad.
- Back in the manual chair, I see. - Tell me about it.
Battery's gone again.
Whole thing's knackered, really.
If you've got a spare three grand for a new one
I can do three slices of lemon drizzle cake.
No, I better get off.
All right, tara, kid. Be good. See you later, Dad.
- Thanks for dropping him, Nath. - Tara.
Let's have that cake.
- Des, give over.
- Need to get you back to school, don't we? - I'm fine with the bus.
Ay, up.
- What are you doing? N-No, I don't think-- - You can't be late for double maths.
- No, I really can. Are you-- - Get in the car.
- Oh, my God. - Get in the fucking car.
Yeah? Really?
Hey! Hey!
- Someone stop that car!
- What are we doing?
My mum is gonna kill me.
We've gone from nicking sweets to a car.
Jesus.
- Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
You're mad! You're fucking mad!
There is nobody after us. You can calm down now.
- I am calm, kind of. - Well, stop panting then, will you?
- I'm not.
- Jesus fucking Christ!
He could've killed me.
One bite of my carotid artery. D-Dead.
Doesn't look like a killer.
Oh, well, they never do, though, do they?
What about fag-breath Annie's sausage dog?
The teeth on that little bastard.
Okay, let's get it out and do one.
Don't want to be hanging around with this motor. They'll nick out round here.
Yeah, thieving bastards.
Go on then.
Shoo!
Oh, my God. Look at that.
All right, dog, you are clever, eh?
If it's that clever, it can find its own way home.
I'm not chucking it out round here.
What happened to the hardest fucker in year 12?
Des, the coppers are coming up that road any minute.
How's that gonna look on my UCAS form, eh?
Two B's, a C, and six months suspended.
- Out the way.
Rabies, you've reached your destination.
Come here, come here.
Sit.
- Told you it were clever. - Come. Let's go.
- Fuck sake, Des! Let's go! - What if it gets run over?
We'll go to the funeral.
- Can we, please?
I've always wanted a dog. Haven't you?
No.
Hmm.
Oh. God.
Rabies.
Gotta admit, dog, you're good.
You are dust beneath my chariot wheels.
I'm winning.
I am.
I'm, uh-- I'm still winning.
Excuse me. Sir.
Yeah. Ace these, aren't they?
Are you interested in making a purchase?
Well, I would, you know. Hell of a vehicle.
- Ah. - But, you know,
never bought a car this pricey.
Life-changing is the word most customers use.
I'm sure they would.
Well, uh, we'll have a think, Ben, eh?
- Yeah. - Yeah.
- Have a think. All right. - Okay.
There is a monthly payment plan.
Yeah, ain't there always?
Cheers, mate.
Sorry, kid.
Let's get you home, eh?
I can do it myself.
All right.
News just in.
Chelsea, the multi-million-pound winner of Britain's Got Talent ,
has been stolen from Meadowhall Shopping Centre.
- Yes, can you believe it? - Chelsea?
She was due to be opening a new pet store in the shopping centre.
- Many people were expected to turn out - Chelsea!
- but now that's not happening
'cause she's not there.
Oops.
Shit.
I mean, nicking cars is one thing, but furry fucker here is worth millions.
You heard what they said. We might as well have robbed a bank.
Oh, calm down, Cal. Nobody knows it were us, do they?
You're right.
Calm.
Except Jonsy.
Jonsy?
- Yeah. - Jonsy?
Sent him a selfie, didn't I?
- Oh, my God.
- Don't be a wuss. He won't grass us up. - Jonsy won't?
Like he didn't grass on that Tabani girl for hacking credit cards?
Yeah, but it's me. He wouldn't.
He might.
I wish I was in double maths.
Hey.
Tabani. Good thought.
What about her?
Shirt, and your tie.
Sorry, miss.
Oi, haven't you seen Titanic ?
- Get out while there's still time.
Come on.
Can you do anything?
Well, I can switch it off at the mains and call maintenance.
Seriously? The whole block out of action?
All it needs is a bit of PTFE tape around that pipe.
I could bloody do it.
Breach of contract, Jean, you know that.
Do you want to get your own husband sacked?
I'll breach their lazy arses if that's not fixed today.
I'm going to see Guy right now, so get mopping.
- Yes, boss. - I heard that.
The CEO of Excello Commercial.
Fancy seeing you here.
I'm not here.
I'm at home with a glass of wine, watching the snooker. Or I should be.
No, you should be on a site visit to Sheffield Spires Academy,
as per my messages.
Who listens to their messages these days?
What's up now?
Apart from the entire building falling apart, you mean?
Well, try the maintenance help-line. Ta-ta.
There is no help-line.
Come on then.
I've got 200 year eights with their legs crossed,
a budget that won't balance,
and the toilets are flooded for the third time this year.
Sounds about average.
So, if you haven't sent someone from maintenance out by the end of this week,
I'm getting someone in and billing you.
We both know you can't do that, Jean.
Breach of contract.
Don't I know it?
That school's made out of pizza boxes and Sellotape,
but, hey, not your problem, contractually.
You just count the money.
Those kids are our future, Guy. They deserve better.
All right, I'll see what I can do.
Now, are you gonna key the car, or can I go home?
End of the week, Guy!
Des, hey.
Hey, Tabani.
Round the back.
What you want?
I, uh-- I sorta need you to do me a favour.
Why should I do you a favour?
- Is a fair question. - Shut up.
I need something taken off the Internet.
Keep it down, yeah?
- Lee.
At least attempt to look interested.
Yes, sir.
Yeah, there's more heat on this than a bloody murder investigation.
Go get yourself a coffee.
Ten minutes.
Right you are, sir.
Destiny.
Fifty grand seems a bit light for a million-dollar dog, don't you think?
Put the ransom up to 100 grand, then I can have a year off before college.
- Come around the world with you. - Who says you're invited?
What's up, Tabs? Can't you delete him?
Oh, no, I've done that no probs.
But I only put 50 grand in.
In where?
The ransom demand.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Back up a second. What do you mean, "ransom demand?"
You sent a ransom demand?
Yeah, for your around-the-world ticket and your uni fees.
But you didn't actually send this, did you?
Yeah.
We were just talking.
We didn't--
- We were just joking, Tabani. Oh, my God! - Oh, shut up, Cal.
Look, uh, right-- Who did you send this to?
Uh, one to Chelsea's owner, Lucy Warner,
one to the Sheffield Star, one to South Yorkshire Police,
and one to a bot that's spreading it over socials, about 200 accounts a minute.
Boom.
I think I'm gonna be sick.
- All right? - Not so bad.
Ah.
Ai, ai. Who do we have here?
See you later.
I am the voice of the one calling from the wilderness.
Make straight the way for the Lord.
- And for short? - John the Baptist.
- Ah, psychiatry? - Mmm.
Take a seat, me friend.
- And enjoy the ride.
There we are.
Oh.
- Well, well. - It's me.
Can I come to yours?
If you like.
Got a break in half an hour.
- Great. Ta very much. In a bit. - All right.
You're pregnant.
- I'm not bloody pregnant. - Thank God for that.
Come in then.
Ah, welcome to the homestead.
Brilliant to see ya.
Whatever your name is.
- Ben's? - Yeah, his chair's buggered.
Seen the prices?
Could buy a bloody van for less.
No chance, poor lad.
- I don't have much in the way of money. - I'm not after money.
Oh. Shit.
Now I'm really worried.
Are we looking at a two-cigarette problem here?
- Yeah. - All right.
Got my best ears on, kid. Shoot.
You know that famous dog off Britain's Got Talent ?
It were opening this new pet shop in the shopping centre, right?
And me and Cal were just hanging around, and we sort of nicked it by accident.
We didn't mean to, obviously. I mean, who nicks a dog?
There's this dead posh car sitting there, engine running.
The guy jumps out to talk to the car wash guy,
and I just sort of, dunno, get in and drive off. Boom!
And then there it is, just sitting in the back, this dog, panting.
And I post a selfie online before I know it's the dog, as in the famous dog.
Then we hear on the radio that we've nicked a million quid's worth of woof.
- I mean, Jesus! - Right, I--
We go round this crazy lass's house 'cause she dead good at computers.
She can wipe the whole thing off Insta, which she does.
Cool, all sorted, ta very much.
But then she only goes mental, sends a ransom note for 50 grand
to the police and the papers and Facebook and Instagram
and the whole of fucking Twitter.
And-- And-- And I don't know what to do!
Couldn't you just be pregnant?
Me dad's taking her back today.
He's gonna tie her up somewhere and then call anonymously.
Shame, could've got rich.
Yeah, or gone to fucking jail.
You're not as first advertised, are you?
Is that good or bad?
Dunno.
Sorry, Destiny. Sorry, dog.
Change of plan.
Gaz, no.
I've got stuff to do.
- Since when did you have a dog anyway? - I've moved on from women.
I'll be back before I'm gone.
You love your little dog.
One, it's Jean's dog.
Two, I hate it.
Three, no dogs allowed on the premises.
Be a mate. It's lunch break, ain't it?
Good as gold, she is.
Watch this.
Stay.
Here.
Well, you made it too easy for her.
I do that with Maltesers.
Oh!
Hey, never get a dog cleverer than its owner.
That is definitely cleverer than you.
Does racing tips and all.
- How-- Oh, fuck off!
- Exactly what I'm doing, me friend. - One hour.
After that, it's in tomorrow's spag bol.
Love you, mate.
Thank you all for coming.
Obviously, it's a difficult time for us, so, uh, thank you.
Thank you as well.
- That dog means the world to my daughter.
Hi, um, thanks. Thank you so much. Yes, no. Thank you.
Um
All right, yeah?
Do you know what they say about arsonists?
You can always count on them for a light?
They always return to the scene of the crime.
Arsonists and dog thieves.
Really?
I heard Des was right here just before that dog disappeared.
Pissing about with pick 'n' mix.
On a school day? Shocked and disappointed.
At least one of me kids turned out an upright citizen.
Just so you know, they're pushing for custodial on this.
So, if you or Des are anywhere near it,
drop it like it's on fire.
Me?
For a measly 500 quid reward?
Tight buggers.
No, I'm just here for the unique shopping experience.
I am.
All right, Dennis? What are you doing?
Origami.
Oh.
Chuffing hell!
What's up with him?
Ah, they can't call it the Big Baps no more.
Why not?
#BloodyMeToo, that's why.
- Hash who? - Hashtag Me Too.
Darren here got the heave-ho from work for calling someone "love."
I thought it was 'cause you hadn't sold a single policy in four months.
Details, David. These are difficult days for insurance.
The fact is, I was, as I believe the term is called, cancelled.
I merely called a young lady-- Girl--
Woman--
A female
"love."
And that was it. Out the door.
- I call everybody "love," me. - Not anymore, my friend, not anymore.
Not following.
The snowflakes have taken over the asylum.
The--
No, not a single word of that.
The political correctness Nazis ride abroad.
First, they come for your Pirelli Calendar,
then they come for your innocent double entendres,
and finally, they come for your cafรฉ.
Now then.
- Like I say, I didn't know it were a joke. - All this time?
You never got it?
Big, you know, baps.
As far as I'm concerned, Dave, a bap is a circular bread roll,
and a big bap is a big circular bread roll. End of.
- What are you having, Horse? - I, um
I fancy one of those, um, double entendres.
Is that one of the specials?
Ah, Gaz's new dog does that.
- Oh, God. Come on.
No.
What the fuck have you done to me dog?
I panicked. And that's the bloody point.
Not your dog.
Possession is nine-tenths of the law.
Or is it ten-tenths?
That there is stolen goods.
- Give over, Dave. It's just a dog. - A stolen dog.
So, I was in possession of stolen goods.
On school premises.
All right, don't blow your stack. I'll buy you a pint.
- A pint? - I'll chuck in some crisps.
I don't want my pint. I don't want crisps.
All right, all right. I mean, it wasn't even my idea.
It was Des.
Destiny?
- Destiny? - Yeah, Destiny.
I-- I don't know what to say.
Then maybe don't, eh?
You don't bother about your own daughter from one year to the next.
I see her more than you,
and your latest idea of parenting is to get her involved in bloody thieving?
Well, no wonder she's going off the rails. No bloody wonder.
- She's doing all right. - Like you'd know.
Fuck your own life up, Gaz. Be my guest.
But fucking her life up any more than you already have, that is unforgivable.
And just who the hell are you to give out parenting advice, hey?
You don't even have any kids.
Fuck. Shouldn't have said that.
Excuse me, what happened to the check-outs?
All automated now.
Oh, that's nice, yeah?
So, uh, what happened to the check-out people?
Don't know.
Just wave your card at the machine.
Right.
But I haven't got a card.
I don't care about the money or films or anything.
I just-- I just really want her back.
She's my best friend.
The people who don't have dogs don't realise--
I just really miss her.
Whoever you are, just please, please look after her.
All right, Des?
What happened? I thought you dealt with it.
No, no. I couldn't. Place were crawling with coppers.
One particular copper.
Nathan?
Oh, you're kidding.
He's got you on camera,
messing around in the shopping centre just before.
Shit.
Nah, he's not sure.
- I reckon he thinks it's me. - Shit.
No proof, has he?
Take her back in a day or two when things have cooled off.
- What's that noise?
Um, police helicopter.
It's all right, it's going, going--
- It's gone.
Okay.
Um, sorry to, you know, cause bother.
Nah. It's all right, love.
Happy to help.
Des?
- Oh, I've got to go. - Bye.
Oh, there she is. My beautiful daughter.
What? No dancing?
- You woke the twins.
Sorry, love.
- Were it too loud?
- She'd be more beautiful with a smile.
Does she do smiling at all?
Oh, only when I see you leaving, Brian.
- When are you leaving? - Oi!
- I asked him to stay, so he's staying.
Don't know what she's got against me, that one.
But I'll keep trying.
Hey, that's me, one of life's triers.
Oh, don't waste your time.
They've got school tomorrow.
Oh, I know.
Her legendary commitment to education.
Oh, when did you last make it to school again?
- That's none of your fucking business! - Hey, hey! You two.
Look, we will try and keep it down.
- Okay, love?
Gorgeous girl.
Come on then.
Twins all right?
They're good.
- Your mum?
You don't wanna know.
Oh.
Who is it this time?
Creep called Brian.
Heating engineer.
Money then.
Oh, yeah, he splashes that around, all right.
So, what's up with him?
Just don't like him.
Yeah, but you don't really like anybody, do you?
I do.
Name one person.
See?
Chelsea's all right.
Yeah, she is, isn't she?
Shame we have to give her back.
Yeah, but we are.
Yeah, yeah.
All sorted, kid. Just like I said I would.
Thanks.
I got all bent about it.
Well, that's what dads are for, right?
Intermittently, in my case, I admit.
You know
if things are tricky at your mum's,
you can always come and stay at mine, if you'd like.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Four berth caravan, kid.
Hack away at the undergrowth, find another bedroom for you down the back.
Right.
I don't know. The twins wouldn't be right happy.
Well, the offer's there.
Haven't seen that much of each other for a while, have we?
What with one thing and another.
Maybe make up for lost time, hey?
Yeah.
Maybe.
Thanks
Dad.
Oi!
Get back here.
Oi!
You all right, Mr Horsfall?
Do I look like I'm all right?
Give us a crisp.
Hellfire.
I don't know what your excuse is, but you're not starving, are you?
You can talk.
Hey, no back-chat!
It's not the first time, is it?
Stuff's been wandering out of that kitchen for weeks now.
What have you got to say for you, son, hey?
How about, "Sorry for giving you a chuffing heart attack, Mr Horsfall?"
Sorry.
I should think so.
Well, I can either report you to the deputy head, Mr Amagee, right?
Or you can help me sweep the sports hall.
Right.
- Tara then. - Yeah, see ya.
Five-- No.
Oh, thanks, love.
Hey, did you manage to catch your biscuit thief?
Oh, no, no.
All quiet on the mean streets of Sheffield Spires Academy.
You okay?
No, not really.
No matter which way I slice it, we're still massively over budget.
Cake sale?
Maybe 2,000 cake sales.
Honestly, Dave, I never thought when I did my teacher training,
I'd end up as a chuffing accountant.
Proudest day of my life when you got your degree.
- Oh, come on. - No, no, I'll never forget it.
You in your black cape and your funny little square hat.
Yeah, but what about you?
Wh-What do you mean?
Well, what are you proud of in your life?
I've just said. You.
Has Lulah been out? I'll-- I'll take her.
Dave, I--
Hello?
Anybody here?
Hello?
Jesus Christ.
It'll grow out.
- Doesn't look exactly chuffed to see you.
Yeah, me and this dog, it's a--
it's a purely professional relationship.
Worth a bob or two, I hear.
A bob or two? I'd say a bob or two.
A movie deal, TV series, adverts.
- Lucky I happened to find her then. - Yeah, maybe.
You know, the thing is, a dog like this, it's a lot of work.
Four hours training every bloody day.
Taking her to launches, pet shops, studios, feeding her, picking up her shit.
I mean, you have no idea.
Take your word for it.
So, thank you for finding her.
The truth is, my thieving little friend, I don't want her back.
Eh?
Look, she's insured.
Obviously. I won't get much back in cash terms but something.
So, you dump the carcass somewhere where it can be found, and then I can claim.
You get five grand no questions asked, and I get my life back.
Carcass?
- You want me to kill the dog? - You're quick up north, aren't ya?
Payment's upon death. They need proof.
Yeah, a carcass. Are you keeping up?
Oh, you're a warm-hearted fucker, aren't you?
Business is business.
You'll get a six-figure payout from this, I'm sure.
You're offering me fucking lunch money?
Five grand's a lot of lunch money in these parts.
Tell you what.
I happen to quite like her.
So, how's about I keep hold of her?
Every once in a while,
post a photograph, so your insurer knows
she's alive and well and living in the Socialist Republic of South Yorkshire.
And you get fuck all.
Ten grand.
Take it or leave it.
So
call me.
Say where to meet and when.
You bring a dead dog, I bring the cash. Everybody's happy.
Think your daughter will be happy?
Lucy?
It's kind of you to think of her.
I'll buy her a fucking pony, mate.
Offer runs out tomorrow.
Oh, fuck.
Lomper?
Knock, knock.
All right?
What do you want?
You can't grow your cannabis up here.
Can't I just visit?
All right, can I borrow your ratting gun?
Got one under the caravan learning to play the bloody drums.
Hang on.
Fuck off.
Great.
Five pence a pellet.
You make Scrooge look like Father Christmas, you do.
Don't go killing anyone I wouldn't.
Thanks.
- You'll still visit us, right? - 'Course I will.
I'll be 'round all the time. I love you little buggers.
And I'm only at me dad's. It's not far.
Thing is, he's a person, you're a dog.
No arguments there, so don't even try.
I mean, he can go on and win a Nobel prize.
What are you gonna do, eh?
I mean, with respect.
Jumping through hoops, not exactly world-changing, so
On the other hand, I mean, a-as I'm sure you would say, if you could,
eight million votes in a talent show, it's not nothing.
It's a vote of confidence from great British public, is that.
No.
Still, the fact remains,
Ben's got a really shitty life,
and ten grand buys him an electric wheelchair with all the trimmings.
He could go wherever he wants to go, school, university.
But you're not going to fucking university, are you?
No. Think on.
Oh, fucking don't do that to me.
Des, you haven't thought this through.
No, I have.
You're always so down on him. People change, you know?
Look, love, all I'm saying is don't expect too much from him.
Well, you know where we are.
I don't wanna do it.
Obviously.
I mean, you're great.
Best doggy around.
But
he's me grandson.
Fuck it.
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Nothing.
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