All language subtitles for Traces - S02E04 WEB.eng

Hey Kitty, where are you?
Hurry up!

Nothing.

Back door.

And then we had to line up in
the playground, like a fire drill.

- Whose bag was it?
- Second year.

Somebody saw it,
screamed "bomb" and that was it.

Day was over.

Anthony
and Valerie Gemmell,

In accordance with
the Prevention of Terrorism Act

2000 Section 41,

I'm arresting you on suspicion

of causing explosions
and endangering life.

You do not have to say anything

but it may harm your defence
if you do not mention...

Just a siren.

Unexploded bomb

located in a bin outside.

Power it Out boxing gym.

The barrier's stuck.

What's going on?

- Mum?
- It's alright, chick.

I can't talk, Neil.

Where are you?

On campus. Trying to get out.

- Sarah...
- Kitty's in the car.

There's an unexploded bomb.

Alleyway off Flintock Street.

Shit.

- Mum?
- Are you out?

It's, it's all blocked.

- Fuck sake!
- Have you seen it?

- Have you seen the device?
- No.

Report's come in
of a big margarine tub

in a bin outside the boxing gym.

Witnesses say
there's a whitish grey smoke.

- Any smell?
- Yes.

Bleach. Strong.

Hydrogen peroxide. If there's
smoke, it might have failed but...

- Where are you?
- We've just picked up

our two letter-writers
over in Tayport.

So, unless they have
an accomplice,

I don't think they'd
have had time to plant it.

- Have they got phones on 'em?
- What?

Have you got their phones?

- Why?
- It's too risky.

They, they could ring
the bomb, Neil.

I'll call you back.

I've got his...

This is DCI McKinven. Pull over!

Get her phone! Hey!

Where's the phone?

Sarah, we got both phones.

- We're out.
- Jesus Christ.

** Baby, you understand me now?

** If sometimes
you see that I'm mad

** Don't you know

** That no one alive
can always be an angel?

** When everything goes wrong,
you see some bad

** But oh, I'm just a soul
whose intentions are good

** Oh Lord, please don't let me
be misunderstood**

Right. I've got it.

SO-15 are on board.

So we've got to get every diary.

Every photograph.
Every shopping list.

Let's see
if they wrote the letters.

Then we grill them, are there
any more bombs out there?

I'll get the coffees in.

It's gonna be a long night.

With Dundee
residents living in fear...

Police have made
two arrests in Tayport.

Meanwhile, another device
has been found

in an alleyway
near Tayside University.

The device, which has now been
safely deactivated by the bomb squad,

failed to detonate

and will be taken
to a specialist laboratory

- for further investigation.
- Is that you?

- Yep.
- Unconfirmed eye witness reports

described whitish-grey smoke...

Coming from
the green council-owned bin

outside city gym,
"Power It Out".

The four storey building
was packed with members

but all were evacuated
to safety,

with no casualties.

Investigations are continuing

into the incident

and disruption
to the road network...

Thank you.

Hey.

Why are you so tiny?

Can't you be a violin teacher

or somebody who works
at the garden centre?

- I'd really love that.
- I think we'd all love that. Apart from Mum.

Sorry everyone.

Alright. Compromise.
Just don't go in tomorrow.

Stay on the couch with me
and Dad can stay home

and we can all watch TV
and eat crisps all day.

Absolutely not.

No!

Don't answer it.

- Hey.
- Bad time?

- Mum?
- No sorry. I'm being wrestled by a 15 year old.

You alright?

Yeah. All fine.

Are you alright,
more to the point?

- Yeah. We're fine.
- Get off the phone.

- Sounds like it.
- Get off.

- Talk tomorrow?
- Sure.

Bye.

We're getting it tested, but I
can see the writing indentation.

'White ethnocite' is as clear
as day on the first blank page.

We found it
in the Gemmill's flat.

Any other chemicals?
Bomb-making gear?

Nothing obvious.

Something interesting.

No broadband at their flat.

- What?
- No computer, no laptop.

Azra says, there's no email
address buried in the dark web.

They're completely analogue.

So if they are controlling
an accomplice,

a delivery rider maybe,
how are they doing it?

There was one more thing.

No family photographs.

Nothing.

Don't waste
too much time on the letters.

We need to know about the bombs.

Good evening Mrs Gemmell.

Mrs Gemmell?

Excuse me?

Could you turn back around,
please Mrs Gemmell?

- What was your role in this, Mrs Gemmell?
- Boss.

- Am I glad to see you?
- Gavin.

- Where are we?
- Here.

Mrs Gemmell?

She won't
even look at him.

Christ.

I'm obliged to inform you,
this interview is being observed

by Detective Superintendent
Gavin Blair

and Detective Chief
Superintendent Tom McBride

of SO-15.

SO-15?

Counter terrorism to you.

Big guns.

Mr Gemmell. Are there
any more bombs out there?

Who's been helping you
plant these bombs?

How did you know
how to make these devices?

Okay...

We received
two anonymous letters

claiming to have been written

by the people responsible for

planning and executing
the two Dundee explosions.

As you know, there was a match
with your DNA on one of the letters,

bringing us to your address.

What can you tell us
about those letters?

Okay, let's see then.

I'm gonna read out a passage
from the first letter.

I'd like you to write down
what I say.

This is a manifesto of race.

One race.

The Dundee we know
and love will be cleaner,

more potent,

more White.

Despite
yesterday's arrests,

police are asking people
to remain vigilant.

More witness reports
of white smoke...

You've got me thinking now.

Are Mia and Lily going in today?

No.

Mum, it'll probably be fine.

'Probably' doesn't quite work
for me.

You're staying at home today.

You look terrible.

Thanks.

I got
three hours sleep.

Well, if you can call it sleep.

Three hours lying down,
feeling sick to my stomach.

Who are they?

Vile, vitriolic racists

that suck all air from a room.

- Is that the unexploded bomb?
- Yup.

I don't need to walk in
with you.

- Good field trip?
- Productive.

- Jean the Dean's looking for you.
- Oh, good.

Good.

Kathy here?

Not yet.

She probably needed
the sleep.

Pia cancelled her trip.

Kathy's just broken,
not surprisingly.

It all happened
while we were away.

You should have seen her.

So, we just need to be
really careful with her today.

I bought chocolates.

- There she is.
- Jean.

I cast my eye
over the time allocation survey

- and had a question.
- Of course.

Santorini? A talk?

Oh, the Forensic Science
Symposium?

You were on the podium for,
what, an hour?

Trip was six days.

Day to get there.
Day to get back.

- Conference was four days.
- My talk was on day two. Right.

So who paid for you to be
squirreled away in a white, clifftop hotel

for four days?

It was money
earned through case work.

A budget
that SIFA can draw from.

It didn't come from your pot.

You see? I'm getting to know
what you do and how you do it.

See you later for bubbles
at the fundraiser!

Hello.
Prof Finn McGuinness.

Forensic Explosives Laboratory

for Professor Sarah Gordon.

Of course. Welcome!

Here's your card.

And you'll need the code
for the keypad.

Down the corridor.
First door on the left.

Lovely. Thank you.

I'm so glad they sent you.

- Want to see a bomb?
- Sure thing.

In your letter you mention

the making and planting the bomb

that exploded at the St Barnabus
church hall.

You say it was your wife
who planted it.

We've been through this.

Tell me again.

How did she get
to the church hall?

I did it with help, of course.

Our soldiers are everywhere.

Together, we will sing our song to
the masses, the masses will listen.

We, the leaders of this army,

are incubating a force that
has already inspired so much.

What you got on IT?

There is no IT for these two.

No email address. No messaging
apps on their phones. Nothing.

So, how are they instructing
this army of theirs, eh?

They're lying about her
planting the bomb,

so someone must have planted it
for them.

That's what I thought.

But then we got an ANPR

on Anthony and Valerie's vehicle
near the church hall

but it's an hour and 45 minutes
after the bomb went off.

Nothing before.

So, what were they doing there

at 8:45 in the evening?

After the explosion?

You and your wife mention
'an army'?

Will they continue
with your work?

While you're both in custody?

Of course.

Are there bombs
planted now?

Who helped you make this?

It's a partly-detonated
bucket device.

A third bomb in the campaign.

You've told us
you're not working alone.

DNA samples gone to the lab?

Yep. And the CT scans are ready.

Okay. The first head
we recovered from the loch.

No sign of fracture. Or trauma.

Male. Young adult.

And our second, wrapped head.

- On first glance?
- Male.

Major trauma. Two impacts.
Blow to the front

and then a blow to the back.

Blunt force or sharp?

- Blunt.
- Good. Which came first?

How can anyone know that?

Puppe's Law.

First blow. The skull fractures.

So, trace the fracture lines coming
from the centre point of trauma.

Then, second blow.

The skull fractures,

but no fracture lines will
cross the path of the first.

Hence we can usually tell,
which came first.

- Wow!
- Next one.

This was meant to cause
a lot of damage.

Someone's stepped up
their game.

Big time.

Louise, could you get this
phone component off to the lab

for DNA and fingerprint
enhancement?

And ask DCI McKinven
to come here.

Of course.

Louise? Wasn't there a piece of
gaffa tape found near the first bomb.

I'll go find a picture of it.

Now let's see
what these two can tell us?

Let's look at this head first.

Wrapped. No body found.

Two injury sites confirmed.

Decapitation has occurred.

Marks on the bone

consistent with those left by
a cutting tool.

Compared to this skull,
where we see no cutting marks,

therefore in this case,

natural disarticulation
has occurred.

Head was found near the body.

Confirmed as male. But younger.

We've got some fusion

on his femur.

He was still growing.

I'd say roughly aged
between 16 and 22.

- So, came apart in the water?
- Yes.

The differential decomposition
between the wrapped head

and everything else indicates

that these bones and skull,
all belong together.

This body
naturally disarticulated

because it was in water
for so long.

Given this was freshwater,
not salt,

I'd put PMI
at five to 12 months.

Now the wrapped head

is something
completely different.

The wrapping has provided near
perfect protection from predation.

There's something else here.

A snake cut clean in half.

Can't be many of those around.

Fancy taking my place on the SO-15
and FEL advisory meet this year?

Oh my God,

you will never live that down.

My hands were so sweaty, I
couldn't press the power point clicker.

I'll go.

I'm Finn.

From the Forensic Explosives
Laboratory at Porton Down.

DCI McKinven.

- Sorry, we're just...
- Neil, Finn, Finn, Neil.

It's a bucket bomb.
Homemade device,

similar to that used in
the failed Parsons Green attack.

A combination of flour

and hydrogen peroxide
is the fuel,

creating this
dough-like mixture.

TATP is then placed in a tube

and thrust in to the dough.

Plus a vibrating phone component
and battery,

which means the device can be
called up from a standard phone.

The vibration in the phone

triggers the detonation.

Which makes it possible for
the bomber to leave the scene

and detonate from afar.

So why didn't it go off?

TATP. The detonator.

It burnt rather than exploded.

It's an unstable chemical.

A lot can go wrong.

TATP has been used

in many attacks in recent years.

Including in devices
linked to Islamic extremism.

- This isn't Islamic extremism.
- Sure?

Can you rule it out?

We can provide a tentative
identification of peroxide brands.

Sales of hydrogen peroxide
can trigger red flags

and vendors have to report
odd purchasing patterns.

One other thing. I'm,
I'm not a phone expert

but to me this looks like
a Nokia.

Cheap, available, anonymous,
no apps, no camera.

We could maybe get a serial
number off this and ID the phone.

Thanks.

Well, I can get Azra
to help me with that.

A pocket full of rocks.

That's your extra weight.

Not just waterlogged.
Check the other pocket.

Full of 'em.

Okay, we've got a match on the
DNA database for the wrapped head.

A decapitated male body
with a snake tattoo

was found 11 months ago,

- on a beach near Pendower Lighthouse in Cornwall.
- Wow!

They're sending through
the CT scan of the body.

Well, then. It's well-preserved.
Frozen perhaps.

- What about our other remains?
- Nothing yet.

How do you know him?

- Phil?
- Finn?

Known him for years. We've
worked on research projects together.

Right.

Him being here makes it possible
for me to stay on the case.

I know.

I'm glad you're safe.

Kitty heard your voice.
She said it sounded wobbly.

Wobbly's right.

I'm okay.

Good.

We are in broad daylight.

I'm not playing games with you.

No games.

Azra.

Where are you?

I've got something
on Dundeats Riders.

Just looking at the new bomb.

I need you back here.

You're gonna love this.

Impressive, Azra.

- Sorry, everyone.
- Finally.

Were you locked up
in a high security lab?

Right. We have results.

Three food delivery companies
operating in Dundee.

Dundeats, Chowcart
and Deliverdish.

Four hundred and fifty
delivery riders in total.

I've obtained names
and usernames

for all riders
from the delivery companies.

From there I searched
and recovered images

for all riders
you didn't interview.

Usual social media routes,

but some were
from university blogs,

some from Signal,

Spotify profile pictures,

uh, MyFitnessPal,
Amazon Wishlist, whatever.

Everyone's got
a photograph online,

even when they think they don't.

Now, you will notice

that some of the riders
are a green dot.

Well, they work
for all three companies.

Some are a blue dot.

And they work for two companies.

But 31 riders, the red dots,

they just work

for one company.

Interestingly,

those who only work
for only one company,

only work for Dundeats.

No one just works for Chowcart
or Deliverdish?

Precisely. Here go on.
You can click it.

Now it could be random.

But, I thought,

why would that be?
Who are these riders?

What is it about Dundeats?

We've met some of these guys.

So go back to them.
Where are they? Who are they?

Are the Gemmells
controlling them?

Azra. This is incredible.

Of the 31 riders,

I've marked 17 with an I.

All the Ls were logged on

on the nights of the bombings.

The bomber wouldn't log on. That'd
be the dumbest thing he could do.

Or the cleverest.

Or they were just working?

Some work all hours.

Or maybe they're just loyal.

They like working for Dundeats.

Or maybe Dundeats is the oldest
company and has the most lax security.

All delivery companies,
nationally,

are in the process of upgrading
their security protocol.

Now, some systems have improved,

but there are those riders
who signed up

before those systems
were in place.

So in a new company,
you can't get away with subbing

- for instance.
- Subbing?

It's when a rider

loans out their log-in details.

The named rider might not be
the actual rider.

So how do we know if any of these
Dundeats riders are who they say there are?

- We don't.
- So, all this...

Sorry to interrupt.

Just got back from the school
where Valerie Gemmell used to teach.

Only she's not known there
as Mrs Gemmell.

She's known as Mrs Callanach.

Kept her ex-husband's name.
Continuity with the kids.

- Mrs what?
- Callanach.

Azra. Can I...

I've just seen a Callanach.

Come on.

There.

Christ. Is that her son?

He's doing their dirty work
for them.

There's your digital link.

No wonder she denied having a
kid if she's protecting her own son.

Bring him in.

Does the name Rory
Callanach mean anything to you?

No comment.

Why did you deny the existence
of your son, Mrs Gemmell?

No comment.

Is it because your son,

Rory Callanach is the
technological brain of your little outfit?

Allowing you and your husband
to be completely analogue?

No comment.

They haven't got the balls
to do this.

- Admirable.
- What?

Well, you protect them.
They protect you.

I wouldn't protect him.

- Why not?
- He's a racist dick.

- And you're not? A racist?
- No.

I'm not a racist.

Okay.

So, maybe it was Anthony's idea?

Oh, he'd love the glory.

Considers himself to be
an old school fascist.

Educated. Erudite.

'A gentleman'
from a previous time.

She has,

for reasons nobody understands,

taken on his poison.

When was the last time
you saw your mum?

I don't know.

Summer before last?

Her birthday, I think.

I had a row with Anthony.

It all kicked off. That was it.

Rory, we're searching your flat.

You're quite techy.

We've already picked up
all sorts.

Two laptops. Hard drives.

Your mother and step father
don't even own a computer.

You think that's where
I come in?

It's a convenient estrangement.

My mother doesn't want to
know me, Detective.

Why would she?

She knows her husband
makes my skin crawl.

We have a CCTV image

of a Dundeats delivery rider

close to two of the bomb sites.

- It wasn't me.
- You were logged on all three nights.

I was just doing my job.

Delivering fried chicken to a bloke
in a static caravan out at Kilmany.

Five nights on the trot.
I was there every night.

He was a big tipper.

I'm no bomber, Detective.

I work for a living. That's it.

I mean, it's harsh.

There's no care. No loyalty.

It's lonely.

No real connection with anyone.

But it does the job.

It pays the rent.

His alibi checks out.

He was out at Kilmany
every night.

Rory Callanach wasn't anywhere
near the bomb sites.

And there's nothing on his
laptops to suggest any contact

between Valerie and Anthony
in recent months.

Last phone call to Valerie
was on her birthday,

19 months ago.

He's telling
the truth.

The Dundeats thing,
it's a coincidence.

He was horrified. To have
any of this levelled at him.

There's nothing
at his flat.

No bomb-making gear. No bleach.

Hydrogen Peroxide.

Does that rule him out
of making the bomb?

I can't confirm that.

What can you tell us?

Only that the device
is more sophisticated,

but there are parts
that didn't seem to work,

which suggests some

lack of knowledge
by the bomb maker.

If it had worked, it would
have caused loss of life.

But, I can't tell you who did
or didn't make them.

Charge them and get on
with finding the real bombers.

You,
Anthony Gemmell...

Valerie Gemmell,
whilst acting together

in a racially aggravating
manner, which caused...

...or was intended
to cause

alarm and distress
to the general public

are charged
with wasting police time.

We dropped the ball
focussing on those two.

We had to see that through.

- They weren't nothing.
- Aye, I know. I didn't mean...

I know. I know.

I look at my baby

and feel this quiet dread.

This nausea.

Of what kind of hate's
gonna come her way.

But you're right.

Our bomber has had two days
with no-one on their back.

And they'll have been busy,
I promise you.

Never really
noticed them before.

But now, everywhere I look,
there they are.

It's uncanny.

It's some life, isn't it?

"No care. No loyalty. Lonely.

No real connection
with anybody".

So, Cornish police are coming up
to collect the tattooed head.

Nothing more for us there.

But we've got DNA back
on the other parts.

Confirmed that they belong
together,

but no ID flagged
on the DNA database.

So, no one's missed this guy.
At all.

Never reported. Nope.

- Wow.
- Happens.

We'll need to send the CT
of the skull and mandible off

for a facial reconstruction.

Someone must know this guy...

I hope.

Do they match?

Looks like they might, yes.

It's good in theory.
But it's more of the same.

The lab weren't able to recover
any fingerprints or DNA.

And I'm getting nothing
at my end.

Whoever made this bomb
was clean as a whistle.

Send this off to the lab.

If he tied this knot himself,
there may be hair in here.

We can do some isotopic analysis
on his toe nails.

Find out what he ate, drank.

Where he lived for the
last six months of his life.

No shoe size marked, but
we've measured size 11 feet.

There's a small surgical scar
on the front of his left foot. See?

It's a bit of a long shot, but
we could try medical records.

We'll deal with the rest
of the body in the morning.

Much as I would prefer
to hang out with this guy,

rather than stand around
with a bunch of suits

and a chocolate fountain.

- Come on. You might have a good time.
- That's doubtful.

Uniform just a found
a rucksack. Near the loch.

A few personal effects in there.

We're hoping for an ID.

I'll put a call out
after Erika mentioned a bag.

I knew it.

Where is she?

Kathy?

Don't make me go out there.
It's full of veneer.

What are you wearing?
It's a fundraiser.

Excuse me?

Sorry, I didn't mean...

Oh, you didn't mean,
"a better outfit

would help deliver
the library funding deficit?"

You know what I meant.
Why are you so cross?

Pia's not coming over.

What?

She cancelled. Changed her mind.
Met someone.

Oh God, I'm sorry.

That's so disappointing.

- Don't be sorry.
- I'm.

I'd heard you needed some TLC.

- Janine picked something up from Erika.
- What?

Janine was very discreet.
I promise.

Erika told Janine?

Erika wants to be privy to all your
bells and whistles. Of course she does.

She's, she's a PhD student.
She thinks you're superhuman.

Bigger question is, why are
you discussing your love life

with Erika on a field trip?

You have got to be kidding me.

Beaming live via
our School of Science Media Hub

I welcome you all here
this evening.

To our universe
of scientific brilliance.

Where we cater for thunderbolts
and lightning strikes

every day of the week.

We're here to thank you,

our generous sponsors,

for getting us to a place where
we're only 17,000 pounds away

from commencing work
on our state of the art,

School of Science library.

A world class facility,

feeding the brilliant
young scientific minds,

and giving them the space
and nourishment

they need to flourish.

And we don't stop there.

I'm also proud
to announce tonight,

my vision
for a new undergraduate course

in Forensic Science.

Funded by you,

under the stewardship
of Professor Kathy Torrance

and Director of SIFA,
Professor Sarah Gordon,

a scientist able to sprinkle
her pixie dust

on everything she touches.

So here she is,

to say a few words
about our shared vision

and the work that SIFA do.

Professor Sarah Gordon.

- Did you approve that?
- Nope.

Good evening.

Thank you, Jean,
for your kind words.

Since her arrival,
Jean has been a champion

of our work here at SIFA.

She's already proved herself
to be someone

who can set her own strategy,

as well as having
an understanding

that we're not easy,
us academics.

Like a duck to water.

Thank you, Jean.

You alright?

Come in, sit.

I'll leave you to it.

Come on, grab a glass.
It's a good bottle.

I'm alright. Thanks.

- It was great day.
- Aye.

You did well.

Did you look at me, and think...

there she is,

I'm married to her?

I did.

What did Super say?

Hmm, I think
they're all a bit in love.

I need to work.

And now I have pleasure
of introducing my

and one of the world's leading.

Forensic Anthropologists,

Professor Kathy Torrance.

Good evening.

Space looks good.

Especially the fairy lights.
Must be the pixie dust.

Wow, Jean.

I love that you think

we're fighting the thunderbolts
and lightning strikes, day in day out.

But I may need to clear
something up there.

As a scientist,

those thunderbolts,
they do come.

But every 30 years.

So what do we do
in the mean time? Well...

It's pretty uneventful.

Spark-free zone.

We focus on chemical
and biological analysis.

We find out what evidence means.

We look for ways to read "data",

interpret results,
write our report

and sometimes

present and communicate
our evidence in court.

It's a little dry.
A little slow.

But it is fantastic.

So, there really is no
pixie dust.

Just wanted to clear that up.

And the library
is going to be amazing,

so thanks for your money.
Good night.

What was that?

With the failure
of this latest device,

has the Dundee bomber
been driven underground?

Will the bombers ineptitude
lead to an arrest?

Police are calling on members of the public
to come forward with any information...

Thanks.

Is that an apology?

Sarah, Jean stood up there
and misrepresented what we do.

It wasn't the time or the place
to correct her.

Couldn't let it go.

- Well, I guess, that's where you and I differ.
- Yeah.

She doesn't know anything about
science! Don't you find that bewildering?

The Dean
of the School of Science?

You don't like her. And last
night was a chance to play that out.

You undermined her
in front of the sponsors!

It was deeply unprofessional.

Sorry.

- Are you?
- Yes!

I kind of believe you.

I'll fully believe you when
you apologise to Jean as well.

I tried already. She's off sick.
Too many bubbles.

You made her sick.

- Hey.
- Hey.

For you. Product design
threw this together.

This little pincer bit is for removing
tissue, without disturbing the pigs.

Great. Just what
we've been waiting for.

- Kathy?
- Yeah?

- You okay?
- Yeah.

Hey.

Loved your speech last night.

No. You are in no position
to discuss

anything you may have seen
or heard

or understood to be true
while we were away.

No position. Do you hear me?

Never do it again.

I'm coming for you, Holly.

So, you are
our mystery body.

Hello Euan.

Hey.

What?

Do you recognise him?

No.

Nineteen, six foot two,

size eleven feet, white male.

We got all that right.

Sorry, but...

One of the bodies in the loch.

School of Science. Physics.

He went to this university.

His name was Euan Macmillan.

What? A student?

Looks like he filled his pockets
full of rocks,

tied his feet together

and jumped into a fast-moving
mountain river.

There'll be
a fatal accident enquiry.

Do we know
anything about him? Why?

Why did he kill himself

or why did nobody
report him missing?

According to Charlie,

Euan told his Mum, he was
heading off grid for a few months.

He said he needed a break
from his course

and was taking a sabbatical
from university.

She said he'd travelled before.
He took off sometimes.

He just liked to break
from the noise. The technology.

He was that kind of kid. So,
she didn't report him missing.

But what did he tell
the university?

Because this place didn't
report him missing either.

Why was that?

Ten.

Eight.

He's a seven.

Jumped up, pumped up
brainless dick.

Whore!

Whore!

Whore!

Whore!

Whore!

Okay, you bastards.

Here I come.

Where are you Holly?

There you are.

Time to meet
your handsome date.

Special delivery.

Oh, no, no, no.
That's not my guy,

that's just an ugly piece
of shit

I'd never let
inside my panties.

Don't worry bitch,
you're such a dog.

I wouldn't even rape you.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Two four four two. Give us a few minutes,
man, this order's only just come in.

No problem. I'll lock my bike.

Hey.

Don't leave your box here.
Stick it over there.

Have fun on your date,
Holly.

Guys you've got about two
minutes left of being pretty.

Enjoy!

Bye bye.

Woah.