Original subtitles

(SOUTHERN US ACCENT) In Gaffney, we have our own brand of diplomacy:

shake with your right hand, hold a rock in your left.

In Gaffney...

(EXAGGERATED ACCENT) In Gaffney...

In Gaffney, we have our own brand of...

- Are you OK, Mr Andrew? - Yes.

Fine, thank you.

[THEME MUSIC]

It'll be fun! Everyone's flying in.

Meet up with the old gang, unveil a plinth.

- Who was he, again? - Ray Tolmer.

Assistant Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Human Services.

- After you. - No, no. You go ahead.

No, honestly. I don't normally have a big breakfast.

- Are you suggesting I do? - I thought we hated Ray Tolmer.

It's true, he and I did clash occasionally.

You said you couldn't stand being in the same room as him.

Oh, that Ray Tolmer.

It's a memorial service, so he's not actually in the same room.

If it was a funeral, fair enough. You wouldn't catch me dead there.

So, what about you girls -

wanna help celebrate the life of a great Australian?

- What do you mean, 'girls'? - Sweetheart...

I'm your daughter. She's not!

I resent being lumped in with a casual employee

via an infantilising collective noun.

Well, if you're too busy, fair enough.

What about you, Ellen, anything planned for today?

There's that book we're supposed to be writing.

This will be great for the book!

Nothing makes the cream of Australian politics rise to the surface

more than the pasteurising process of a memorial service.

I don't wanna cause any trouble, and Carol seemed a little...

No, no, no, she'll be fine. This is about me, not about you.

She's really been out to get him since her psychotherapist told her

that he's too dismissive.

That's just bullshit psychotherapy.

You should go, Ellen, meet all of Andrew's famous friends,

get some nice quotes about him.

Everyone's always nice about everyone at memorial services,

just in case.

It would be good to do some work on the book at some stage.

I'm relaxing into it. I need to be in the mood before I open up.

I'll give you some trigger words. Be like The Manchurian Candidate.

- Hey, I'm right here! - I don't wanna step on Carol's toes.

And I don't anything appropriate to wear.

- Wear something of Carol's. - She wouldn't like that.

- Or something of mine. - She did say 'appropriate'.

She could wear that black number with the 6-inch Jimmy Choos.

Ellen would look fantastic in that.

I'll come with you, Mr Dugdale, sir. It'd be an honour.

Curtis, you'll be driving us there.

Well, if I'm gonna be there anyway, you may as well come with me.

All ready, chief? Ooh, bao xi!

Oh, no, you'll get a cramp if you eat that.

(SPEAKS FRENCH)

Doing well this morning, aren't I?

Alright, who's for a couple of laps around the block?

- I'll get the car out. - No, no, Curtis, we're jogging.

Rightio.

I'd love to, darling, but I'm off to the tennis club.

Javier is tightening my strings,

and I wanna make sure he does it properly.

Sonny can do that for you, can't you, Sonny?

- I'd love to. - No, thank you, Sonny.

I've already booked in, and besides,

Javier does this sort of thing for a living.

I could do with some exercise before we get down to work.

I'll just put some shorts on.

Sonny, wanna come with us now you've been stood up?

No, thanks, I've got to write that speech

you're giving to the National Press Club.

Alright. Well, not too many verbs, 'cause it confuses them.

That's the way. Never go wrong if your seat belt's on.

Tubs Taylor gave me that. Autographed it too, but it washed off.

- Here's Grandpa. - Hey, Grandpa.

Hey, boy! Have a good day at school, OK?

Curtis, don't forget to get me a copy of Quadrant on your way back.

Don't worry about justifying the trip, sir.

I don't even log the school drop-offs and pick-ups anymore.

Yes. Thank you, Curtis.

Never been caught faking records yet,

and I don't intend to start now.

- Very good. - I'm very discreet, Mr Dugdale, sir.

- Good. - You just ask Peter Slipper.

- Yes, thank you, Curtis! - It's OK, Andrew.

I'm ghostwriting your memoirs, not getting dirt on you for 60 Minutes.

No, you write it how you see it.

Incidentally, I only read Quadrant for the articles. Come on.

I've got two preferred circuits -

down there and to the right, or down here and to...

Oh, freak me sideways.

Neil! Hello.

Andrew, hello.

You've doubled your security retinue, I see. Very nice.

No, this is Ellen LeBlanc. She's my biographer.

Enchant�, mademoiselle.

Cheers, yeah.

Ellen, you've heard, I think, me mention Neil Blanchard.

I have, yes. Nice to meet you, Your Excellency.

Former excellency, actually - I'm finishing up as governor-general

and taking over as UN envoy in the Middle East, thanks to your boss.

Yes, well, it wasn't exactly a recommendation, Neil.

Myles, when you tire of this pompous, old windbag,

you give me a call, won't you?

Will do, former Excellency.

So, the hotel you're staying at doesn't have a treadmill?

Oh, you know, you get a bit spoiled with the Admiralty House gym,

so when I'm away from Yarralumla,

I like to try and keep my feet in the real world.

Sure, sure. It's miles out of your way, though.

Did George and Lenny drive you here in their van?

(LAUGHS) Oh, we like to mix things up a bit.

What is it we always say, guys?

BOTH: Never establish a pattern, sir.

Never establish a pattern.

I bet Myles has got you running out of those gates

at 7:46 every morning, regular as a dose of salts.

If anyone had half a mind to get their name in the paper,

you'd be a sitting duck.

Well, I don't think I loom as largely as you do

in the fantasies of lonely psychotics, Neil.

(LAUGHS)

Oh, you say that like it's a bad thing!

The day people stop hating you

is the day your book deal gets cancelled.

Just ask your Boswell here.

Hatred is a big market, particularly in political memoirs.

Well, it's certainly why I bought Bob Brown's.

Anyway, I love this tree-lined street

and that beautiful park you've got up the corner.

Yeah, I try and avoid that park. It's a well-known beat.

Not that I'm judging.

- Oh. - Ooh!

Anyway, not holding you up, am I?

No, no, no. I was worried we were holding you up.

So, we'll see you at the memorial service.

- I'm looking forward to it. - Me too.

And last lap, everybody. Come on.

- Excuse me. Excuse us! - Last lap. Come on.

[GIOACHINO ROSSINI: FINALE, WILLIAM TELL OVERTURE]

Oh, look! It's our former prime minister.

- (DOG BARKS) - Prime Minister!

- We voted for you, Mr Dugdale! - Did you? Oh, that's lovely!

Nice... Nice dog!

(DOG GROWLS)

- (CAR HORN HONKS) - CHILD: Hello, Grandpa!

Go to school, boy!

- Go... - (NEIL CHUCKLES)

(GROANS)

CATHERINE: Are you sure we shouldn't ring for an ambulance?

NEIL: I'm absolutely fine.

I have a hiatal hernia,

and sometimes, after breakfast, it can put on a bit of a show.

The last thing I need

is a piece in the paper about being rushed to hospital.

- Andrew will tell you. - He's worried about his envoyship.

Neil, at the very least, I insist that you see a doctor.

I am a doctor, Andrew, remember? All I need is some antacid.

Ah! (SPEAKS FOREIGN LANGUAGE), Rita.

Having a medical degree

isn't quite the same as seeing a qualified cardiologist.

You don't need a cardiologist for a gastro-intestinal problem.

Anyone with a medical degree will tell you that.

As, indeed, I just have.

When I first met Andrew at uni, I was going out with Neil, mm.

Well, I wouldn't exactly call him a friend.

More a work colleague, I think.

Well, Neil was the real catch. All the girls loved him.

I think that's actually the really appealing thing about him for me.

The friction between us started when he was party leader.

They were having this big debate in the refectory -

I think it was about union fees or something -

and they were both supposed to be on the same side,

and they ended up arguing with each other.

It was the first election year,

and the parties that be decided Neil wasn't the man for the job.

Well, Muggins here gets asked to shore up the numbers

so that Bill Cady can take over.

We win, I get the deputy leadership,

and Neil becomes governor-general as a sort of consolation prize.

Neil's always blamed me for the coup.

But I have never regretted hitching my wagon to Andrew's star,

not even for one moment.

I mean, Neil has done very well for himself, it's true,

but Andrew's my rock.

In fact, he often says

that if he has to be chained to one forever, like Prometheus,

getting his liver pecked out every day by a giant eagle,

then he's glad it's me.

We had sex in the back of my father's ute.

That's marriage, Ellen.

- Sorry to interrupt. - No, that's fine. Hi.

Hi. Um, Cath, if it's alright with you,

I thought I might get changed for the service here.

Yes, of course.

I'll get my driver to bring my speech and my suit.

Is there anywhere where I could wash up?

- Sure. - Only if it's no bother.

No, no, not at all. You can use my bathroom.

Actually, I'll come with you and show you where everything is.

Cath, I think I should take your mic off.

CURTIS: You back up! It's our driveway!

The vice-regal flags and St Edward's Crown number plate

means that I outrank you, so YOU back up!

There's a dual parking space near the tool shed

you can easily reverse into, so I can get out!

Security are parked there, so it'd be a lot easier

if you reversed back out into the roadway!

(YELPS)

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

- All clear. Come on. - Are you sure she won't mind?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. She's got so many clothes, she won't even notice.

Wow.

These have still got the tags on them.

Don't ask. Pick out one you like. I'll watch the door.

Are you sure? I get the feeling she doesn't like me.

- And this is not gonna help. - It's not about you.

That's just Carol. She doesn't like anybody.

She blames Andrew for everything.

He feels guilty, he throws money at her, she resents it.

She's...

If she was my daughter, I'd have sorted her out years ago.

Of course, that'd mean you'd be married to Catherine.

Or Andrew.

You're gonna need some shoes.

Something black, something dark. It's a memorial service.

(SHOWER RUNS)

NEIL: Are you sure this isn't a bother?

CATHERINE: Mm, no. I've got absolutely nothing on at the moment.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

Oh, that reminds me, I must call and cancel my appointment with Javier.

- Oh! - (BOTH GIGGLE)

- BOTH: Oh! - (NEIL CHUCKLES)

So, what do you think?

It's a dangerous game.

The PM might rule Neil out

if he thinks he's had a health scare,

but if it comes out you leaked that to the press,

you can say goodbye, not just to the Middle East job,

you can say goodbye to any appointment,

including your seat on the ACB.

People won't trust you.

Well, at least I'll still find out whether I'm on the short list.

The book, Andrew, is the best way

to get people to think of you fondly again.

Yeah, well, it's not been such a wonderful life, Henry.

Ellen's got her work cut out for her,

spinning gold out of all this dross.

So, go out and do a few nice things now. Have a few regrets.

Make sure there's a chapter in the book about redemption, Andrew.

People love all that mea culpa crap.

Did you kiss and make up with Ray before he died, like I told you?

You know I don't like hospitals.

Yes, that was reasonably clear from your Health Policy.

My point, Andrew, is that people don't mind a man being flawed

but they wanna see him beat himself up about it from time to time.

Go out and right a few wrongs. Say sorry to a few people.

Yeah, well, I've never been very good at saying sorry.

- (CATHERINE AND NEIL GIGGLE) - Animals!

- Sweetie... - Oh, shit!

Have you seen Sonny? He knows how to tie these things.

- Sonny? Uh... - Yeah. The triangle's gone all wonky.

I actually don't know where he is. Isn't he with you?

No, I think I would have noticed that.

(LAUGHS)

Sorry to interrupt you, Mr Dugdale, sir.

- Is Mrs Dugdale up here? - No.

- She might be. - No. Definitely not up here. No.

I wondered if she's still going to the tennis club

to get this restrung,

'cause I've given it the once-over, and it seems alright.

- She might be in her bedroom. - No. Ah! She...

I know where she is now. She's downstairs enjoying a dip.

In the kitchen?

In the swimming pool.

Right.

- Dad, can I help you with that? - (YELLS) Oh.

Oh, right. Er, no, I'll be fine.

There's probably an instructional video on YouTube.

- Good idea. - But thank you.

- Great. - Very nice of you.

Bye-bye.

- CATHERINE: Oh, oh! - (NEIL GIGGLES)

- Here it is, the nerve centre. - Mm.

Oh, the old 8 channel.

- Did not know they still made these. - VCA and face rec?

Mm-hm, on order.

Oh, but I did get this baby the other day.

It's a Smith & Wesson M&P Pro Series

semiautomatic 9mm Parabellum

with Novak tritanium night-sight and stainless steel lanyard pin.

Mm. Cute. Balance is a little off.

- Really? - Mm.

Guy I bought it off had, like, 96% positive feedback rating.

If you're serious about close-protection work,

you need more than a cap gun and these Tinkertoys.

What say we show him what a real professional uses

to ensure the safety of their VIP?

(MUTTERS INDISTINCTLY)

- Carol? - Mum?

I'd like to have a word with you, please.

- Something terrible has happened. - What I have to say is important.

- What you do in your private life... - He's dead.

... is none of my business.

- But I don't appreciate having to... - There's no pulse.

- I get too wrapped up in your dramas. - He's blue.

- And I forget what's important to me! - He's lying there, dead.

- What? Who's dead? - Come on.

I tried that already!

I'm administering CPR, not humping him to death!

He cannot be found here like this.

How will it look? Think of your father!

Dad knows what you're like, he's married to you.

- What are we gonna do? - Put underpants on him, for a start.

I'll check if the coast is clear.

Come on.

(BOTH GRUNT)

We'll put him somewhere where his staff will expect to find him.

- Back of his car! - Back of his car, yeah.

No-one will think anything untoward.

(BOTH EXCLAIM)

My God, is he alright?

What the hell's going on?

It's OK, we can explain...

Are they my shoes? And my dress?!

- I'll call the police, yeah? - Call no-one.

And with bodies much less fresh than this one.

RITA: Back, back, back, back!

So, it's got adjustable folding stock,

top and bottom Picatinny rails, ambidex FS controls.

And a bonus mag X-25 extended Glock 21 clip.

(WHISTLES) Wow.

- (COCKS GUN) - Great attention to detail.

Don't blame you, Neil.

Don't blame you at all.

- Nice work, girls. - Shut the fuck up, for Christ's sake!

Absolutely beautiful.

Yeah, Sonny's always saying I should stop and smell the roses,

or at least look at them occasionally,

make sure the gardener's doing his job properly.

You know, funny thing about Ray - I didn't like him,

and I never told him how I felt,

which is a pity, I think,

because it gets too late too soon in life, doesn't it?

And...

... you don't wanna wait until somebody's memorial service

to say all the things you should have said years ago.

So, I just wanted to let you know that...

... I've always been jealous of you.

I think the only difference between you and I is that I wanted it more.

And it wasn't Bill's idea to get rid of you as leader.

It was mine.

I didn't think you could win.

I talked Bill into recommending you for governor-general out of guilt.

I know!

It's all about me making myself feel better by...

... pulling the strings behind the scenes

like some sort of deranged puppetmaster.

That's who I am.

Now, this is our personal favourite. The SR98.

Original Schmidt & Bender sight, free-float barrel.

Threaded for your silencer.

Folding stock, adjustable butt, and cheek pad.

But if you really wanna reduce noise and visible muzzle flash,

- you can't go past... - Your OTs-38 Stechkin five-shot.

(GUN FIRES, BULLET ZIPS)

(BUBBLING)

I'm not expecting any words of comfort from you, Neil.

I just wanted to say that...

Well, actually, I wrote it out in a card.

- (BUBBLING) - I'll read it for you, if you like.

(CLEARS THROAT)

It's... "Dear Neil.

The time has now come

to turn a new page by righting the wrongs of the past

and move forward with confidence to the future.

Yours faithfully, Andrew Dugdale."

I'll just put it over here for you, when you're done.

Good chat. Good chat.

Actually, I think those are lilies.

- (BUBBLING) - (CURTIS HOWLS)

REPORTER: And some sad news just in.

Governor-General Neil Octavius Blanchard

passed away peacefully in his sleep earlier today

while visiting the home of friends.

- He was 57. - They didn't even mention our name!

- 57?! - Shh!

Mr Blanchard was visiting Melbourne to attend,

along with many other Canberra identities,

the memorial service of former federal MP, Ray Tolmer.

He was to have dedicated a plinth in his honour.

He'll be missed.

Sports up next with Fats McCready.

And nothing at all about the fact that I'm unveiling the plinth now.

- I'll check your Facebook alerts. - Yes.

It's not about you, Andrew, it's about Neil.

Oh, it's always about Neil.

- For God's sake. The man is dead! - You don't have to tell me that!

I was the last one with him before he died.

It's probably not my place to say this,

but will we have to replace the water in the swimming pool?

Because once, a possum got into our rainwater tank,

and when my wife hosed out the bins, they really smelled.

I think it's great you were able to make your peace with him.

Thank you.

When I go, I don't want people to feel obliged

to say nice things about me around a plinth.

Feel obliged to say them now, while I'm still alive.

Around a plinth?

Around a plinth, around a statue or a commemorative plaque

or the wing of a rest home, it doesn't matter.

My point is that you should make your peace now with your loved ones,

before it's too late.

Dad, I didn't realise he meant that much to you.

Who's that?

- Neil Blanchard. - Oh, Neil! Yeah, sure. Absolutely.

Although I was referring more to myself at the end there.

You should include some of that in the book. This is good stuff.

I'll be upstairs reading The Bell Jar.

It's good stuff, but maybe now's not the right time.

You're the one always going on about the deadline!

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

Yes, Rita.

Perhaps they're God's tears.

Too often I think politics is about the way in which we get things done

rather than what we do.

It is seldom about statesmanship

and rarely, if ever, about leadership.

We've lost one of the good ones, and I'm not talking about Ray Tolmer.

Ray was,

and I'm sure his wife and children wouldn't mind me saying this,

an arsehole.

No, I'm talking about Neil Blanchard, a governor-general

and the great white hope for peace in the Middle East.

A man who knew the difference between

human rights and a punch in the nose.

I would gladly take a million Neil Blanchards any day

over one Ray Tolmer.

In fact, with your permission, I would like, here and now,

to rededicate this plinth

to my friend, the late Neil Blanchard.

Obviously, we would get that re-engraved.

(WOMAN CRIES)

Nice speech,

particularly the bit about human rights and the punch in the nose.

I stole that from a Jimmy Stewart movie. The arsehole bit's mine.

I'll be sure and mention it in the bibliography.

What are you doing?

I don't need any help.

- CURTIS: Knockedy-knock! - Come in.

I brung you some nibblies from the memorial thingy.

You needn't have bothered, Curtis.

I don't have much of an appetite tonight.

No bother at all. I've got more in the boot.

It was just gonna go to waste, and they had plenty.

Mind you, we did leave early, so maybe they would have eaten them.

Can I run something by you, Curtis?

It's kind of a private matter. I need some advice.

Something's wrong, isn't it?

I can always tell.

My wife says I have a sixth sense about these things.

Women trouble?

You deleted those photos of Carol, didn't you, for God's sake?

No, no, no! It's nothing like that.

'Cause my wife made me get rid of that disk you burned for me.

No, it's just...

I think I might have killed Neil Blanchard.

Kind of shot him with a rifle.

I would probably keep that quiet.

In my experience, assassinations, even by accident,

are never good on a r�sum�.

That's why I never got to drive for Cory Bernardi.

I was working as a receptionist at the Ecuadorian Embassy in London

when Mr Assange came to stay.

He was such a slob!

He'd leave his towels all over the floor, he'd never make his bed,

magazines everywhere - it was terrible.

Mr Andrew was in London to be photographed with Boris Johnson -

you know, haystack man.

They were on bikes. It was for the Commonwealth Games or some shit.

I was in Harrods, buying breakfast things for His Bloody Majesty,

when Mr Dugdale and Mr Johnson

came in to be photographed next to a giant pyramid of Vegemites,

and do the thumbs-up, you know?

They were on sale.

He saw my trolley was full of Vegemites,

because Mr Assange is such a pig - he eats it by the spoon.

Anyway, one thing led to another,

and Mr Andrew arranged my 457 visa.

I come to Australia, and I work here.

So, I do anything for him.

But still, I say too much.

Some things should be kept secret.

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