All language subtitles for Doc Martin S04E03 - Perish Together as Fools

Have you locked the door?

I'm in charge of crime prevention
for the whole of Portwenn.

You think I'd forget to
lock my own front door?

You were up late last night.

I couldn't sleep.

Have you got any work sorted yet?

Mum said you'd lost that job in Cardiff.

I didn't lose it. I quit.

That's what I told Mum.
No way he'd get the sack.

I said you'd probably been
headhunted or something like that.

Was I right?

There were some people
trying to get hold of me.

Always in demand.

Well, you've either
got it or you haven't.

So, did they get hold of you?

Why all the questions?

Sorry. Guess I'm just used to
interrogating criminals all day.

When did you last interview a suspect?

Let me show you round my beat.

Morning, girl.

Your coffee. Why did
you unpack my stuff?

You've been living out of that
bag for two weeks now, Polin.

Toast? I told you. It's temporary.

OK, but your brother is not
leaving your mum's just yet

so you may as well get settled in, eh?

Don't follow me into the bathroom.

Ah, there you are.

Come on, then.

Good boy.

Louisa. Why aren't you at school?

Is something wrong? No.

Well, not really. It's just...

I haven't felt the
baby move for a while.

Have you been to see Martin?

I was going to but then I
thought, no, I'm being silly.

I'm having a scan tomorrow at the
hospital so I must as well just wait.

In you get. We'll sort
this out right now.

Louisa needs to see you.

Why? Is something wrong?

Sorry I'm late. Slow-moving boyfriend.

Get that dog out of my reception.

Yes. As soon as you've
dealt with Louisa.

I can just go to the hospital.

Don't be silly. You're here
now, and Martin wants to help.

What's the problem? The baby, Martin.

I haven't felt it move for a while.

Come in.

Go through.

Get out. Get that out.

It can stay out here. It can't go
in the surgery. It's against the law.

You'd be amazed how many drivers
leave their valuables in full view.

I come down here twice a day
and offer words of advice.

Are you all right, Sam? Yeah.

Usually it's me that has
trouble keeping up with you.

I don't suppose...

I mean, there's no chance you'll
still be here for Christmas?

God, no. There's plenty of room.

Mum would love to see you. It's
years since we've all shared a turkey.

No, I've got a meeting with
someone in Newlyn next week.

If that all goes well,
I'll be out of your hair.

Newlyn? Is that a job
interview or something?

Yeah.

Being the Neighbourhood Beat Manager

doesn't mean I just go
round locking people up.

I can also offer a helping hand,

which is equally rewarding.

That doesn't sound too good.

You think?

I could get you towed to a garage.

Let me guess. They rip me
off and charge me a fortune.

And you get a nice little backhander
for sending a mug their way?

No, I'm just happy to help.

I'll get on to Brian
and have him fit you in.

Actually, now I've got
your undivided attention,

can I ask have you left
any valuables on display?

What?

Camera, binoculars, handbag.

What handbag?

Not yours, obviously.
But maybe your wife's.

She's dead.

Give her a try now.

Thanks very much.

Just doing my job, sir.

Yeah, this model, the
chief lead comes loose.

Just needs to be tightened up, you know.

My brother knows all about cars.

Safe journey! Aghh!

Ohhh!

When did you last feel it move?

I'll ask the questions, thank you.

When did you last feel it move?

There has been nothing
since yesterday lunchtime.

I'm sure everything is fine.

Why are you so sure? Any number
of things could have gone wrong.

Martin! Auntie Joan.

You'd like me to leave?

I'll be right outside if
you need me. Thank you.

Can you... undo the lowest
buttons of your blouse

and pull down the top of
your skirt just a little?

It's a bit awkward.

If you're embarrassed,
why did you come to see me?

No, I mean it's tricky
to undo this blouse.

The buttons are very small
and my fingers are getting fat.

Let me help.

I'll just...

Just move that a little.

It sounds fast. Is that all right?

Fetal heart rate should be between
120 and 160 minute beats per minute.

It's completely normal.

Is everything all right? Yes.

Apart from the fact I'm now officially
one of those neurotic pregnant mums.

All right.

Come on, Buddy. We know
when we're not wanted.

Yes. Goodbye.

Dr Ellingham, here's another
one from the Primary Care thingy.

Another what? An official reminder that
we have to have the surgery re-painted.

Just this room and your room
and my phlebotomy clinic.

Waste of time. Can I interrupt, doc?

This gentleman's had a nasty
accident. Trapped his fingers.

I didn't trap them.
This moron slammed...

The doc doesn't need any
details of the circumstances.

He'll just want to examine
the damage. Won't you, doc?

Go through.

Every four years. And
it's been nearly five.

That was the doc.

And this is Pauline, the receptionist.

The practice manager
and head phlebotomist.

Oh. Sam Penhale.

My big brother. Can you
see the family likeness?

No.

Did I hear you say you
need some painting done?

Yeah, yeah. Why? Is that what you do?

Yeah. Amongst other things.

He's an artist. Oil paints.
Water colours. Pastels.

Not in a girly way, if
that's what you're thinking.

He could have played
football for Plymouth Argyle.

He had a trial but his ankle went...

I don't think Pauline
wants to hear my life story.

Oh, I don't mind.

You picked up on the partitioning
of the sample. Bell-shaped.

Yes.

While the mucosa was more like a dome.

The rate of permeation
followed zero order kinetics,

but the spermicidal activity
and the vaginal permeability

increased proportionally,

until it peaked.

Any questions?

Have you made up your minds yet?

Steak. Very rare.

Monkfish. No butter.

Shall I pour the water?

I'm sure we can manage.

You don't mind I ordered
something rather bloody?

Not at all.

It won't... upset you?

Of course not.

If you ever need help, I know someone.

Thank you. I can manage on my own.

'On my own... no more.

The beat of my heart
echoes in time with another.

And now, sore... with longing,

it runs like a child to its mother. '

You're the only man who's
ever written me a poem.

I've got it somewhere. I could find it.

Oh, no. Don't bother.

Do you still write poetry?

No.

I can't help but notice

a spot of the old tension
between you two turtledoves.

Mmmm. If you want to talk about
it, it's just between the two of us.

Yeah, but you're his dad, you know?

For the purposes of this conversation,

I'm just your good friend Bert.

I love him.

He's great. But...

He follows me all over the place

because he hasn't got any other mates.

And he's so boring and samey.

He never does anything romantic.

He made you toast.

And he has to plan
everything, like, for ever,

and then never actually does it.

Been that way since he was a lad.

I'm just not sure I can
see myself with him forever.

You know what really gets to me?

He mumbles.

Thank you.

What's that perfume?

I can't remember the name of it.

It was a gift from an infertile
and rather unattractive couple.

It smells of cheese.

No more IVF for those two.

Senor. Senorina.

Thank you.

Son, we've gotta have
some of that face time.

Dad, no. I don't want an
accordion player on the terrace.

How would you feel
if you lost your girl?

Because if you're not careful she's
going to leave you, toothbrush and all.

What? First off, you follow
her around like a lamb.

No, I don't. Yes, you do.
And Pauline don't like it.

How do you know? Because
she told me not to tell you.

And you're samey.

I'm what? Samey.

I don't even know what that means.
Neither do I, but it's not good.

And I hate to have to tell you this

but you're, well, you're kind of
weak in the romance department.

You've got to work on yourself, boy.

Shape up or it's Splitsville.

She also said she wanted an
accordion player on the terrace.

Right. I'll say good night.

I think that was appropriate, don't you?

Yes.

Your breath seems a little metallic.
It's possible you're jaundiced.

You might want to check.

I'll do that.

Wooo!

New girlfriend? Use a condom this time.

He's a proper shagger.

Morning, Doc.

How did you get in? What's all this?

Your practice manager gave me the key.

I don't have a practice manager.
Pauline. She told me to get started.

Now, she wanted that shade.

I think something with a bit of rose in
it works better, gives it more warmth.

Keep the colour exactly as it is.

And put my furniture
back where you found it.

Well, how am I supposed to work?

You haven't done the same in my consulting
room. No, I'm doing that on Saturday.

It's all been organised.
Ask your practice manager.

I don't have a practise manager!

Yes.

Mr Routledge? You're dying?

Really?

You better be.

Mr Routledge! Let yourself in.

How do you expect me to get to the
door if I'm having a heart attack?

I see you managed to get
to the fridge all right.

What were you doing when your
so-called discomfort started this time?

I was on the toilet. I didn't flush,
just in case you need a sample.

On a scale of one to ten,
with ten being the worst,

how would you describe your pain level?

I'm not sure that's a big enough scale.

But I'll tell you one thing.

I'd be a lot more comfortable

if you'd get me a
place in a nursing home.

Shhh!

Nothing.

You don't need a place
in a nursing home.

You've got Meals On
Wheels and a home help,

neither of which you actually deserve.

It's not safe here. That walk from
the taxi to the door is treacherous.

It's the only exercise you get.

Can you get me another
beer before you go?

You look like a madonna.

Don't say that. Have you
seen her face recently?

No, I mean the actual...

Never mind. Any chance of a cuppa?

It's on the cupboard.
You haven't drunk it yet.

Oh, right. Yeah.

Have you ever done a nude?

What are you doing?

I thought I'd do a series
of these, maybe a fresco.

Paint it out. Oh, couldn't
he just paint around it?

No.

Hey, doc.

Portwenn Surgery.

What about your room, then?

Hey! Clean that up. Why
isn't this carpet covered?

Oh, it's a bit slippy.

What's the matter with you? When
do you want me to do your room?

At the weekend, when
the surgery is closed.

We discussed this an hour ago.

Did we?

Go through. Why? What have I done?

Just go through.

Hey! Careful.

Are you all right?

Pauline!

OK. Bye.

Pauline, I'm early.

Chippy, are you still seeing double?

No. Take a snap of me and my portrait.

So you're not going to sack me, then?

Why would I sack you? Dunno.

Follow my finger.

Do you give all your
employees a physical?

Only those displaying
symptoms of illness.

How much do you drink
in a week? Nothing.

Well, not a lot. Couple
of pints now and again.

Your lack of coordination and memory
impairment would suggest otherwise.

Have you seen a doctor?

I thought about it
but it comes and goes,

and I was absolutely fine
till a couple of months ago.

Do you have to write things
down to remember them?

Now and again, if it's important.

Have you ever forgotten anything obvious,
like the name of a close relative?

No. Don't think so.

Any members of your family
with medical disorders?

Joe's a bit odd. He got
kicked in the head by a horse.

Yes, I know about your brother.
What about your parents?

Mum's fine.

Getting old...

Father? He walked out when I was five.

Died a couple of years after
that. What did he died from?

No idea. I was actually
closer to my granddad.

But then he died as well.
How old was he when he died?

Not sure. Young.

He kept setting fire to his
bed so he got sent to a home.

Take a seat.

So you... think I've
got something, then?

Pauline will take
your blood for testing.

Worst case scenario?

It's probably just a virus,

but your symptoms, combined
with your family medical history,

mean there's a very slim possibility
you have a genetic disorder.

I'd like to rule that out.

But it's probably just a virus.

Yes. Probably.

Louisa Glasson!

Is everything OK?

One moment.

Oh!

Miss Glasson.

Oh, hello.

Nurse.

Sorry, I was just trying to... see.

You're right. SGA.

Small for Gestation Age.

By week 24 the foetus should
measure 33 cm at the very least.

This one
- not even close.

Can you see something?

Something wrong?

Stop talking, please.

Have you made a mistake?

A mistake?

I don't mean getting pregnant.

Did you get the date wrong?

The date of what? You're
not being very clear.

I'm simply trying to work
out whether you're suffering

some sort of inter-uterine
growth retardation.

What I need to know,

and this shouldn't be too
difficult I would have thought,

when did you have sex with Dr Ellingham?

Well, I didn't actually
make a note in my diary.

But I think the last time...

.. we had...

.. on the occasions that we...

It was mid-October... 11th.

And a couple of days after that.

There.

It wasn't so bad, was it?

This is so kind of you, Joan.

You know I could have got a cab.

I don't want you wasting
your money on taxis.

Come on, Buddy. Baby's done come cheap.

You're paying for that
overpriced room in the

pub when you could be
staying with me for nothing.

You know I'd like to but it's just
too far from the school without a car.

I honestly don't mind driving you.

What? There and back every day?

No. I need a place of
my own in the village.

Waddling distance.

Well, if you're sure about that,

I think I might be able to
help you if you'll let me.

Agghh!

Surprise.

What the hell are you
doing? It's romantic, innit?

You nearly killed me.

I didn't mean to, Pauline. I
was... My brother used to do that.

Except without the flowers.

Well, I've booked a
table at a restaurant.

A romantic restaurant.

Not your place, then?

You've not finished work already.

Lunch break.

Are you OK? Oh, a bit iffy.

Doc Martin's took some
blood. He's doing some tests.

Probably just a virus.

Well, you know what doctors are like.

They're always looking for
something to scare you with.

I think he was hoping
I'd got what Grandpa had.

Grandpa wasn't ill. He was just mental.

Or maybe the milkman
did work for the KGB.

Does the doc think you're
going mental as well?

No.

He said there was a tiny chance
I might have something genetic.

Genetic? A tiny chance.

You mean... I might have it as well?

So what exactly have we got?

You have got nothing. Don't
try and sugar the pill.

There is no pill. You have no symptoms.

You have therefore no illness.

Not yet. But if it killed grandfather...

I can't tell what
killed your grandfather.

He was only 49.

How long have I got?

I can't possibly tell how
long you are going to live.

Right now it is your
brother I'm concerned with.

Yes, everyone always cares
about Sam. He'll be all right.

He's the lucky one. I'm
the one that needs to worry.

Why?

Because if it's genetic
it'll swerve past Sam,

come straight for me.

So please tell me, what's on your mind?

I have to know.

Your brother has some symptoms
consistent with Huntington's disease.

But it's highly unlikely.

Will I go mental? Will I definitely die?

If you did have it then, yes,
you would slowly go mental.

And eventually die.

Oh, my God!

It killed Grandpa. And
now it's coming for me.

Oh, right! Sit down
and roll up a sleeve.

What are you doing? I can't breathe.

I need air.

Sit down, and calm down.
You're having a panic attack.

Is that one of the symptoms? Shut
up and let me take your blood.

You? Yes.

Right. Make a fist.

Oh! Hold that.

There's a Mrs Henson
on the phone for you.

It looks Huntington-y. No!

Right. You can answer the phone, then.

What?

If you're going to take your own blood,
you might as well do my whole job!

Goodbye, Pauline. He thinks
I'm going to die soon.

Not soon enough.

We should have yours and your
brother's results by tomorrow.

Put your shirt on.

I'll miss you, doc.

Out you go. Go.

Seems a bit weird just
to knock on his door.

I haven't seen him for years.
He'll be glad of the company.

Thanks for the lift, Joan.

Oh, if he offers you tea,
make sure you wash the mug.

You'll be delighted to
hear the scan went well.

What scan? Louisa's
check-up at the hospital.

Oh, for God's sake, Martin.
Take some interest in your baby.

Louisa has made it abundantly clear

that she wants me to have
nothing to do with it.

And you'll do as you're told?

Yes. Well, that'll be a first.

It's good of you to visit me, Lisa.

Louisa.

And thank you for the jelly babies.

I'm sorry there weren't that many left.

I don't see many people these days.

Those that do come,
complain about the smell.

I can't imagine why.

It's a kipper.

What is? The smell.

I was making my breakfast,

and one of my kippers slipped
down the back of the cooker.

I couldn't reach it, and
the home help's no help.

Haven't had a cooked
breakfast in a good while now.

It's such a lovely house

and so close to the school.

Doesn't suit me
- all these stairs.

On my bad days, I wee
in the kitchen sink

just to save myself the climb.

Would you like a biscuit?

Oh, no. Fine, thanks.

Over there. By the sink.

I hear you're thinking
of going into a home.

That tosser Doc Martin
doesn't think I'm ill enough.

I had a heart attack this morning.

He didn't even care.

If you did go into a home, what
would you do with this place?

Rent it out, I guess.

To tourists... or someone local?

Someone who's lived here all their
life and still works in the village.

Not many of them left.

Oh, there's a few on the boats
and the shops, in the school.

Where do you live, Lisa?

Doctors have to mention the bad
stuff in case you actually are ill

and you sue 'em.

Most of the time it's nothing.

So will you please lighten up?

I've done nothing with my life.

You, you've done it all.

Apart from play football
for Plymouth Argyle.

But if your ankle hadn't... Shut
up about the bloody football.

You could have been a contender, Sam.

You could have been King Of The World.

You don't half talk some
bollocks when you're pissed.

Don't leave me. I'm
only going for a crap.

Another one?

Sorry, you're not allowed in here.

What? No supermodels in the kitchen.

Where are you off to dressed like that?

Don't know. Al is surprising me.

Is he?

And there you were saying he
didn't know how to be romantic.

Hello.

Hey, babes. Sorry, something's come up.

I can't hear you. You're mumbling.

Something's come up. I
met some old mates, and...

Hey! Hey, what's up?

Yeah, I thought I'd stay
and have a session with them.

All right, lads, keep it down.
I'm on the phone to the missus.

So, yeah, I can't do that thing tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

Al... Right, gotta
go. The shots are here.

Your romantic son just stood me up.

He says he's having drinks
with 'some old mates'.

It's a shame to let all
that beauty go to waste.

Why don't you go out front
and take a few orders?

What you drinking, Joe? 'Ey?

I'm supposed to be taking
Pauline out for dinner tonight

but she thinks I can't
do anything without her

so I plan on being here for
a while... with my mates.

Where are they, then?

Oh, they'll be here.

Soon.

In the meantime, can I get you a pint?

Actually, I'm in the middle
of something. A family matter.

With my brother.

Family stuff, yeah? I love family stuff.

Did you want a pudding?

No, thanks.

Notice how the surgeon
has gone to great lengths

to minimise heamorrhage
as he opens the chest.

Now, as he opens the left ventricle,

there will be a rush of blood.

Observe how the assistant
is ready with the sucker

so that all the blood loss
can go through the cell saver

and be reinfused.

This will minimise the
amount needed in transfusion.

The thing about women is they
always want to know where you are,

but they never want you around.

I suppose we're all going to die.

It's just... getting used to the idea.

I stood her up, right, cos she's
got this crazy idea that I'm clingy.

I mean, me! Clingy?

Mate, not even Pauline goes to
the toilet as much as you do.

I've got a dippy tummy.

Well, thanks for sharing that.

You haven't touched that one. Go on...

Cheers!

Here's to the best brother
I could ever hope to have.

And if this is the end of the journey

I just want you to know
that I'm one lucky bastard...

to have had you in my life.

Now where you off to?

Toilet. You just went.

He's not doing drugs in there, is he?

I thought I heard
voices. Go back to bed.

Why are you painting this time of night?

Because it's easier to
concentrate when it's just me...

on my own...

.. by myself.

That's...

That's excellent.

What do you know about art.

I know what I like.

And I really...

Yeah, yeah, it's brilliant, just
like everything else I've ever done.

You know what?

I need to get this finished.

Night.

Last night Al stands me up,
so I stay awake waiting for him

so I could ignore him.
Then I fall asleep.

This morning I find him
asleep on the bathroom floor.

I hadn't heard him come in.

He passed out trying to clean his teeth.

So I stayed awake for no
good reason. Well, that's it!

Where's the painter?

He's in the kitchen. The
kitchen doesn't need painting.

I know. He's having a cuppa.

Your results are negative.

Oh.

So I'm not going to die.

Not from Huntington's, no.

Your iron levels are off and
your blood count is low, though.

All right. Well, I don't
know what that means.

I'll get a cloth.

Pick that up. That's all
right. I'll mop it up.

Pick it up. Now.

You can't, can you?

All right, don't rub it in.

Do you have that weakness
in any other joints?

Doc, another Routledge emergency!

No. I am not attending
that hypochondriac any more.

He's got chest pains, arm
ache... I am with a patient.

Is this one having a stroke?

No. No. But Mr Routledge is,
and he is scared and he is alone.

I'll see you later.

Squeeze.

No, you're not having a stroke.

Then why do I feel as if I am?

Because you're a mentally
deranged time-waster.

And Sod's law dictates the
one time I fail to attend

is one day you actually die.

Louisa? Has something
happened to Mr Routledge?

Sadly not. Is that my breakfast?

Two lovely kippers.
The grill is over there.

When did you start
deliver Meals on Wheels?

Lisa thinks I should go into a home.

He's very frail. No, he's not.

Yes, I am. No, you're not.

I... I'm going for a wee.

It probably would be for the
best, though, wouldn't it?

I'd get proper care, and
Lisa could move in here.

Oh, right.

I see.

See what?

You'd want me to refer Mr Routledge to
a home so you can move into his house.

No. No, not at all.

So you wouldn't want to live here?

Well... I would be, yes.

Mmm.

Don't you 'mmm' at me, Martin.

Goodbye.

Martin?

I was going to come and see you.

Erm...

Can you look at this?

Oh, God, there is something wrong.

Dr Montgomery says it's SGA.
She's booked me in for some scans.

Dopplers. They check
the placenta's working...

I got the technicalities
explained at length.

What I didn't get was any kind of
reassurance the baby was doing OK.

And that's what I want right now.

Don't worry about one image, Louisa.

Easily misinterpreted.

Some foetuses are small at this stage
and have a growth spurt later on.

Some foetuses are small
throughout the pregnancy.

It doesn't mean there's anything
wrong with you or with the baby.

Right.

Can I have it back?

Erm, do you mind if I hang onto it?

I just want to check the
measurements and consult with Edith.

You're going to talk
to Edith about our baby?

Is that a problem?

With you discussing my
baby with your ex-fiance?

Ah, so it's your baby when it suits you

ut it ours when you need medical help.

So, do I start packing or not?

No. Mr Routledge, you are not
entitled to a place in a home.

Caring profession?

My big hairy... Agghh!

Oh, my God!

Don't move.

Does it look like I can?

Aghhh!

He's broken his hip.

OK. I was really angry about last night

but I think we should
discuss it properly.

Like grown-ups.

Are you ignoring me now?

I don't know about these hybrids.

Cars are supposed to
make noise, ain't they?

Electric ones are just spooky.

I can't take this any
more. Can't take what?

All this acting so weird.
I haven't been weird.

All right. All right, I
have been acting weird but...

You want to get rid
of me. No, you idiot.

You're the idiot. I want
you to stay, Pauline.

Oh, I give up. No, I give up.

I buy you flowers, you yell at me.

I stand you up so you
don't think I'm clingy.

You ignore me.

Have you any idea how much I had
to drink to stay out that late

with my so-called mates
just to prove to you,

yes, I do have a life of my own?

I don't want you to do all that.

Yes, you did. Dad told me.

So he told you to act like a pillock.

He told me you don't like how I am.

And he said I mumble. What?

He said... He said I mumble.

No, you don't.

You don't have to change completely.

So there are bits of me that you like?

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah.

Are you gonna tell me what they are

so maybe I can work on them?

No. You work it out for yourself.

He's got a lovely head of hair.

What the hell's going on?

Oh, my God. You've turned
my kitchen into a crack den.

No, I haven't.

Is that cocaine?

No, it's paint.

I'm making paint.

You buy paint, you don't make it.

You had me thinking you were ill.

You're just a junkie.

I want you and your
narcotics out of my house.

I'm not a junkie, you moron.

I am not a moron, you junkie.

I'm just... trying...

Oh, God!

Yes.

Did you send for an ambulance?
Yes. Will he be all right?

Hello? Can you hear me?

Painter!

I think maybe he ate something bad.

Why do you say that?

He just has that kind of
I- ate-something-bad look,

don't you think?

His pulse is elevated.

Has he taken any drugs
to your knowledge?

How do you...

I mean, do you have to
know about that to help him?

Well, of course I do. He's
presenting like he's had an overdose.

I can't treat him if I
don't know what he's taken.

He's been taking crack cocaine! See?

He said he was making paint.

Paint? It's not his fault, though.

It's all the stress. What's stress?

He's been staying up late at
night, working hard on this.

Not bad for a crackhead!

Mmm.

'Samuel Birch, 1888.'

Wake up!

Why did you sign it Samuel Birch?

Because he's a forger.

Oh, shit.

Yeah. Blue discolouration
along the gum line.

I think he's got lead poisoning.

Have you been making lead paint?

You can buy paint. Not the
sort they used in the 1800s.

So he's not a druggie?

No. He's a crook.

No. Not Sam.

You don't get chronic
lead poisoning overnight.

I doubt this is the
first time he's done it.

He'll need to go to hospital.

It's not what it looks like.

Did you even have a
trial for Plymouth Argyle?

Did you!

Oh, I can't, I can't,
it's just too... beautiful.

Even you have to admit that.

I don't have to admit anything.
I have the right to remain silent.

Good.

Why's that still up?

Erm, some of the patients like it.

No.

Ohh!

Oh.

Doc, could I have a word? No.

You took my blood, did some tests.

You're not ill. You're fit
and healthy. Physically.

I thought you might want this.

No, I don't. You said you liked it.

No, I didn't.

Well, you agreed it wasn't
bad, for a crackhead.

I've put some Tippex over the signature

so technically it's
not illegal any more.

I'm trying to say sorry.

For what my brother nearly did
to our special relationship.

But we're OK now, yeah?

Erm...

Great.

I've got you something.

It's a little out of date

but I think it should do the job.

If ever you need
reassurance you can cope

just give it a squeeze.