All language subtitles for Rivals - 1x04 - Episode 4.WEB.SuccessfulCrab.en

Oh.

Hup, hup, hup.

I haven't eaten since we last met.

- Really?
- You still have all my silverware.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's all right. I needed to lose
the Christmas weight.

I've just been so busy
since New Year's Eve.

Oh, good. I'm glad. You deserve to be.

Catering at the Baddingham pheasant shoot
next Saturday.

- Will you be there?
- Sadly not.

I haven't had an invitation
to The Falconry

since I introduced Paul Stratton

to Monica's buffet table.

A real shame on this occasion
as I hear the food will be excellent.

And there's me thinking the way
to a man's heart is in his trousers.

Am I interrupting?

No, Daddy.
We borrowed his cutlery for the party.

Well, then we should return it.

Did I ever tell you
how much I enjoy your show?

Thrilling stuff.

Once you get your teeth into something
you don't let go, do you?

If you're such a fan,
why don't you come on?

You'd make a great guest.

I promise to be gentle.

Unfortunately, the only evening I've got
free in the near future is Valentine's Day

and I doubt it'll stay that way for long.

Sorry to disappoint, old chap.

Here we are, Rupert.

- Rupert.
- Huh?

Thanks, Tag.

Cunt.

That's all we got time for tonight.

I'm sure our audience misses
seeing you each week in Knight Rider .

Still, at least you're not playing
second fiddle to a talking car anymore.

- Time to wrap it up, Declan.
- He's got ten seconds left.

Before we go,

I would also like to mention
that a special edition of our show

will now be going out on Valentine's Day
with former Olympic showjumper,

Mr Rupert Campbell-Black MP.

I know that news will come as a surprise
and a delight to many.

Until next time.

Good night.

What the fuck was that?

I thought I told you
not to pull this shit anymore.

Jesus. Relax, will you?

Relax?

Declan, all his office has to do
is release a statement tomorrow morning

saying they don't know
what we're talking about,

and we look like a bunch of amateurs.

Cameron, be nice to poor Declan.

He's an asshole.

No, he's a genius.

Rupert can't refuse a challenge.
I know him.

You're both assholes.

Mmm. All we have to do is wait.

- Declan.
- Yeah.

Mr Campbell-Black is on line one.

Well, isn't the genius gonna talk to him?

He can speak to my producer.
Same as anybody else.

This is Cameron Cook.

Mrs T thinks I should
accept the invitation.

Take the opportunity
to show you media pinkos who's boss.

I'm inclined to agree with her,
but I voted for Reagan.

Really? Good girl.

So, Minister, are you game?

We don't know each other well, Miss Cook,

but I do hope that over the course
of our acquaintance,

I might have the opportunity
to show you how very game I am.

Well?

He's in.

Don't think you're touching my tits later
dressed like that.

No. Sure.

Ignore my sister. She's a right bellend.

Yeah, before the syphilis
reached his brain,

my father used to host
seven shoots a year,

and we never started the first drive
later than half past 9:00.

Shush, darling, they're waiting
for their electrician friend.

- Oh, yes, the electrician.
- He's not an electrician.

Freddie Jones is an electronics mogul.

Today's a celebration of him joining
my board. He's the guest of honour, Henry.

You and your wife are here

to make sure he has a jolly nice time,
all right?

Right.

- Oh, he's here.
- Finally.

Look at that little number.

Yeah, well, as long as he can
shoot straight, I couldn't give a fuck.

That's the spirit.

You made it!

Bloody hell, Tone, should I chuck
a bucket of mud over me motor?

I'm feeling very conspicuous
all of a sudden.

Freddie. You're perfect as you are.

My sweets.

- Look...
- Oh, dear God.

...it's Sherlock Ideal Holmes.

- Tony, thank you so much for receiving us.
- Of course.

Here to investigate crimes against taste.

- Mon-Mon.
- Hello, Valerie.

- Good to see ya.
- Pleasure.

Lady Hermione,
so honoured to make your acquaintance.

Mrs Jones, I've heard so much about you.

- Now, let's get a gun in your hand.
- No need.

I brought me own.

Oh. Marvellous.

You are sure he can shoot, aren't you?

- Oh. Hmm.
- Oh.

So, how long do you spend on a cock, hmm?

Uh, well, generally speaking, I can
finish one off in 15 minutes or less,

but my hands aren't as quick
as they used to be.

No, sure.

Any of you ladies fancy having a go?

Traditionally speaking, Fred-Fred,
it's the men that shoot.

We ladies are here merely to marvel
at your prowess.

I will!

- Oh, she's doing it. She's off.
- Wow.

All right. Good for you, girl.

So...

Here it is. What h... What handed are you?

- Right-handed.
- You're right-handed?

Okay. So, just take it... take it.
Your trigger's there.

Safety's off. Now, you gotta keep it hard
into your shoulder,

otherwise, you're gonna
do yourself a mischief.

Okay.

Right, okay. Go on.

In your own time.

- Whoa.
- Oh. Never mind.

- Go on. Have another go.
- Oh, no, no, it's fine. Thank you.

- God, look at the state of your hands.
- God.

I hoped nobody would notice.

Um, I was fighting
with a typewriter ribbon first thing.

Needless to say, the ribbon won.

Oh, well.

Know anywhere quiet?

Lord Lieutenant?

- Hello... ...Mr Hampshire.
- Uh-huh?

You must visit Green Lawns soon.

Honest, we would so love to receive you.
Do say you'll come.

Certainly. Yes. Wha-What a splendid idea.

Mrs Stratton. Hello.

You must come and visit me in my boutique.

I'm always searching for the right
kind of clientele, and well,

natural elegance can be so hard to find.

Yes. No, I have been meaning to,
it's just... Yeah.

You could pick something out
for your Corinium screen test,

- couldn't you, darling?
- Great idea.

A screen test? How exciting.

Any idea what he has in mind for you?

Oh, he hasn't said, actually.

Well, choose your outfit wisely, Sarah.

- The camera can be very unforgiving...
- Mmm.

...even for the most perfect of specimens.

Oh.

Mon-Mon... ...Hello.

I'm having a fabulous time.

Freddie.

Thought you hadn't shot before.
Turns out you're a natural.

Yeah, I was top marksman at Bisley

- for two years during me national service.
- Ah! No wonder then.

I want to introduce you to my son.

- Um, just bear with me a moment.
- Yeah.

Oh, fuck!

A spliff and a wank
would sort you right out, mate.

Just a thought.

There are far too many loaded guns
around here today

for you to be making comments like that.

Now, fuck off
before I do something you'll regret.

Ah, Tones!

- Look who's here.
- Surprise.

Hope you don't mind us dropping in.

Of course not.

I've shot two dozen pheasant,
a jay and a woodcock this morning.

Why shouldn't I add a couple of cuckoos
to that tally?

Well, for a start, I wouldn't
be able to appear on your chat show.

Oh!

Why shoot you now when I can wait

and have you savaged
by an Irish wolfhound?

Ooh!

Ginger, please show our guests
to their pegs for the next drive.

Right.

I can't believe you turned up uninvited.

Don't always have to be invited, Taggie.

Good things seldom come to those who wait.

- Charles.
- Oh, hello.

I didn't expect to see anybody.

I'm researching Campbell-Black
and needed something from my office.

I never thought I'd see the day

when Tony Baddingham
had Declan O'Hara doing his dirty work.

I have my own reasons
for wanting to take that bastard down.

You know,
in different circumstances,

you and Rupert could've been friends.

Both complicated,
both stubborn, misunderstood.

Bollocks. What are you doing
in on a Saturday?

Moving offices
ahead of my grand return.

Apparently, my recent coronary episode
makes me a medical liability,

which is why Cameron Cook is now
controller of programmes and I'm--

"Head of Religious Broadcasting".

I can't begrudge her too much.

Climbing the greasy pole
requires its own set of skills.

Mmm.

Especially when
the greasy pole in question

lives in Tony Baddingham's trousers.

How's the heart?

Oh, you know, broken.

Don't show Tony any weakness, Declan,

or this is what you get.

What did you think of your first shoot?

How can people murder
helpless animals all day for fun?

Says the girl who baked
two dozen pork pies for the occasion.

Or do you suppose
the poor piggies were hugged to death?

Don't be horrid. I needed the job.

Don't be a hypocrite.

Stand up for what you believe in.

Maybe I shouldn't be saying this,

but I don't think you should go
on Daddy's show.

I'm worried he's gonna do something awful.

I'll be fine. Promise.

Oh, look at this...

Oh, smashing spread, Agatha.

I'm hosting at the Beaufort next month

and I wondered if you might do the food?

- Oh, that's... that's very kind.
- Yeah.

Uh...

To be honest, I-I find the whole idea
of hunts and shoots...

...utterly objectionable,

and I won't be doing them anymore.

Oh... ...right.

Be careful, Agatha. You're in danger

of developing a backbone.

Now, I've got a girls' supper Monday week.

I'm gonna give you a tinkle.

Mmm.

Come on, Rupe. We've got a hot date
at the Dog and Trumpet.

Bye, angel.

I have had the most delightful day.

It's so nice to have finally found
our kind of people.

Sorry, Tone, I gotta get to the office.
Trouble with a shipment out of Japan.

Oh. You're a true titan of industry,
Freddie. Let's talk again soon.

Try and set a date for you to come in
and discuss your ideas, yeah?

I'll give you a ring on Monday.

Thanks. Bye-bye.

Well done.

They're just through there.
I'll fetch the brandy glasses.

Oh, Mr Hampshire...

...I would so love to receive you.

Oh, well,

fortunately for you, Mrs Jones...

...hounds aren't the only thing I ride to.

No, I'm sure a ride with you
would be delightful.

What can I say? The likeness is uncanny.

Uh, what about me, Mr Hampshire?

- Do I bear a resemblance?
- Oh, I'm sure he wishes you did.

He'd be bounding down to Green Lawns

to admire one's topiary balls.

Sorry, Mousie left her, um...

Oh, no. Yeah, sure. I was just, um,
trying them on for size.

You know, I really must get down
to Mousie's boutique soon.

Well, look, thanks again for a great time.

Let's talk on Monday.

- Absolutely. Let me see you out...
- No, no, no. You're all right.

I know the way.

Now, who'd like a cigar?

Yes, please.

- I'll have one of those.
- Very unfortunate.

Ah, how was the shoot?

Well, they killed loads of birds,
but they liked my food.

Rupert stopped by.

Oh, Jesus Christ.
Is there no place free of that man?

"Cheating..."

"Caught red-handed".

What?

Why are you in here?

What are you planning on doing to Rupert?

- He said he was sorry.
- I raised you to be smarter than that.

A story is a story.

It looks like it's all been said before.

No, it hasn't.

He doesn't deserve
whatever you have planned for him.

It's called journalism, Tag.

You can call it what you want.

I call it revenge.

So, what's this big scoop
you've got on Rupert?

The whole office is talking about it.

A magician never reveals his secret, Seb.

"The Butcher of Corinium".
That's a new one.

It's not true, is it?

I mean, I kn... I know the show
can get a bit confrontational,

but I'd never rip someone apart
for the sake of it.

You're making great television,

and more importantly,
keeping Lord B happy.

Mm-hmm.

Slag.

Lord Baddingham's office.

Of course, putting you through.

Freddie Jones for you.

Freddie, how are ya?

I can't join your board, Tony.

- Freddie--
- I heard everything.

You, Sarah, all of 'em.

I don't mind people making fun of me.

It's just that nobody makes fun
of my Valerie.

We all love Mousie.

I hate snobs, Tony.

And you're the worst kind there is,

the kind who's forgotten
where he came from.

Fred-Fred. I am in such turmoil.

Some young ladies from Corinium
were in the boutique earlier today

saying the most ghastly things
about Tony Baddingham

and that Black woman.

I don't know
what I'm gonna say to poor Monica.

- Well, then don't say anything.
- Oh, I must. It's too awful.

Mousie, please.
It's got nothing to do with us.

We needed Freddie!

It was Rupert.

He crashed the shoot, ruined the mood.

Don't be such a baby. You fucked up.

- Beg your pardon?
- You heard me.

Forget Freddie Jones.

You've got me and Declan,

and we've got the highest ratings
in the country.

I know Declan's got a scoop on Rupert.

Apparently, it's top secret.

Valentine's Day can't come quickly enough.

Mon-Mon?

Oh! I promise we aren't always
shooting things here, Valerie,

but roosting on my hornbeams
is a capital offence.

Dearest Mon-Mon...

...I'm afraid I must relay
some rather difficult information to you

- regarding Cameron Cook.
- Oh, yes?

You see, as the owner
of a very popular boutique,

one learns about all sorts of goings-on,

and, well, the suggestion is that she
might have come by her recent promotion

through certain immodest means

and that perhaps your husband's head
was, well, turned.

Well, that's very interesting, Valerie.

Thank you.

I mean, actually, I have no idea
whether it could all be substantiated.

No, you don't.

It can leave one feeling quite alone.

So, if ever you wanted to confide
in someone...

I'm sure that won't be necessary.

Thank you so much for stopping by.

Good morning, Rutshire,

and a happy Valentine's Day
to all our listeners.

Stay tuned for back-to-back love songs
to get you in the romantic mood.

And on television tonight,

Declan O'Hara will be interviewing
local Casanova, Rupert Campbell-Black.

Let's see if Declan gets him
to kiss and tell all.

- Delivery.
- Oh, gosh.

For Mr Vereker.

Oh.

Thank you. Thanks.

Bye, darling. Must dash. Feel free
to pop all this in a pile for me.

Darling,

we can go for dinner anytime.

Tonight, I want to watch
the Valentine's Day massacre

of Rupert Campbell-Black.

Well, I'll have finished my screen test
for Cotswold Round-Up by mid-afternoon.

So, you have until then
to change your mind, okay?

Or what?

You'll hang an open-for-business sign
on your dressing room door?

Don't tempt me.

- Where have you been?
- Just getting some exercise.

Archie, dear.

Your father says he found you
on the morning of the shoot

receiving manual stimulation
from an estate worker.

Uh...

Well, darling, look,

whilst boarding school
is undoubtedly a lonely place

where certain extracurricular activities
are tolerated,

- well, at least they were in my day...
- Fuck.

...I do feel that one should
exercise restraint when closer to home.

After all, fraternising with the staff

can only ever lead to pain
and humiliation for all concerned.

There are lines one does not cross.

Understood?

Yeah.

Good.

You see?
I told you I'd deal with it.

I don't know what I'd do without you.

You might bear that in mind.

- Cameron Cook.
- "I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful, a faerie's child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,
and her eyes were wild

I set her on my pacing steed,
and nothing else saw all day long

For sidelong would she bend,
and sing a faerie's song."

You know, it's customary
to send flowers, cheapskate.

Oh, hey, there's nothing cheap
about John Keats.

Go try your luck
with some doe-eyed undergrads.

I'm busy.

I believe I asked for coffee.

Sometime this century would be fantastic.

You'd think the promotion would make
her happy, but she's angrier than ever.

I'll get the coffee. You get the phone.

James Vereker's phone.

Oh, hello, Deirdre.

Uh, can you tell James
I'd like him home for lunch today?

I'm sorry, who's this?

His wife.

Oh, yes. Right you are.

This is for you. It's from Rupert.

Hello, Bas. How are you?

Dreadful.

So, Freddie Jones lent me
this fabulous new singalong machine,

freshly shipped from Japan.

I'm supposed to be hosting

an "If Music Be The Food of Love"
karaoke and curry night,

only now, my chef's off sick.

Well, I could cook a curry for you.

Oh, that's exactly what I hoped you'd say.

Did I just hear I'm getting abandoned
on Valentine's night?

You said you were going to watch
Daddy's interview with me, Taggie.

Well, come to the bar.

You can watch the interview
and I can watch you.

- Hmm.
- Oh, and thank you, my darling, honestly.

You really helped me out of a tight spot.

Well, I have a tight spot too,
if you fancy lending a hand.

Come to Bar Sinister tonight
and I'll lend you two.

Ooh.

- Who was that?
- Oh, uh... Ah... ...it was Bas.

He wants Taggie to do
some cooking for him.

- Good luck tonight.
- Thanks, love.

- Give him hell.
- Oh, I will.

Daddy, please don't do this to Rupert.

Oh, for fuck's sake, Tag.

This is happening
whether you like it or not. Now, grow up.

Sarah, you were brilliant.
I've said it before, the camera loves you.

I was so nervous this morning

and having you there
just really put me at ease, you know?

You should see Sarah's screen test,
Cameron. She's really something.

I'd rather watch frogs fucking.

Hmm?

Uh, you can take the girl out of New York.

Well, here he is, man of the moment!

What's this? More dirt on Rupert?

You will have to find out tonight,
I'm afraid.

Scorpion are holding
their front page for us tomorrow,

so whatever you have, O'Hara,
it better be good. What is it?

- Hmm.
- Drugs?

Underage girls? Oh, God.

I'd love to see that smug bastard
in handcuffs.

It's not criminal,
but I promise you won't be disappointed.

It'll blindside even him.

- God. He's a shark.
- Mmm.

Come on.

Mmm. Two sugars. For the shock.

Thank you.

I only come round to give you this.

Oh, gosh, it's... What is it?

It's a word processor.
Sort of like a fancy electric typewriter.

So you don't have to worry about
any more ink-based accidents.

Oh, gosh. Freddie, that's...

- That's so--
- You have a talent, Lizzie.

It should be encouraged.

- I better go.
- Oh, yeah.

For what it's worth,
and I didn't see much,

but for what it's worth,

I thought you looked lovely.

- Hello.
- Sorry, darling, couldn't get away.

Oh, that's all right.

Doesn't matter now.

Listen, the whole station's staying

to watch the Campbell-Black bloodbath
in person.

So, don't wait up, all right?

Oh, righto.

Lots of love.

Thought you might like to meet
your new co-host.

Co-host? What do you mean co-host?

Oh, I see.

Well, I can feel
my ratings soaring already.

Are you here about the pony?

Tabitha's in the stables. This way.

I'm here to speak to you
about your ex-husband.

Um, my father's Declan O'Hara.

I've already told his office.
I want nothing to do--

I've got a really bad feeling
about the interview tonight.

It's got nothing to do with me.

Talk to Rupert.

Ask him to back out, please.

I think you should leave.

I mean, you must have loved him once.

Are you sleeping with him?

Wha... I... No, I... No, um--

Rupert is bad news.

I believe that people can change.

I was just like you.

I told myself nobody
understands him like me, he'll change.

I looked at him
and I saw all this potential,

and he looked at me
and saw something he'd enjoy breaking.

Rupert is a cancer.

My advice? Cut him out
before it's too late.

Now, please leave.

You're where you are because you're good.

You know that, don't you?

Come on. Snap out of it.

We've history to make.

Elvis is about to enter the building.

Remember, this isn't Wogan.
He won't be gentle.

If you don't like the question,
change the subject.

Thanks for the words of wisdom, sensei,

but I do feel in situations like this,
it's often better just to be oneself.

Try telling that to Ted Heath.

Sure.

Okay.

Are you ready for a good show tonight?

Yes!

Bet you are, means you don't have to
pay your television licence, doesn't it?

Looking at you, Maureen,
every week she's here. Every week.

- And Jane Fonda's got a workout video now.
- Ooh!

I won't be doing it, I want Jane Fondue.

Bit of bread, bit of cheese. Yeah.

Hi. Sandra's just gonna
touch you up, okay?

I'd love her to, but I'm about to appear
on national television.

- Mr Campbell-Black.
- Ah.

- Great to have you on the show.
- Ready when you are.

- Hello.
- Paul.

Darling, I am so sorry.

I'm such a pig.

Can you forgive me?

I brought champagne.

- Paul, you shouldn't have.
- Come here.

Phew.

All right,
direct me to the vol-au-vents.

♪ Declan ♪

And we're live in five...

four...

- three...
- ♪ Declan ♪

...two...

Good luck, Declan.

One.

My guest tonight needs no introduction.

He has been described
as the world's greatest showjumper

and one of the most
eligible bachelors in England.

He is of course Minister for Sport
and MP for Chalford and Bisley,

Mr Rupert Campbell-Black.

Now, Mr Campbell-Black,
you've had a varied career, haven't you?

What first attracted you to politics?

Athletes make good politicians.

Showjumping taught me how to think on
my feet and remain unfazed under scrutiny.

Do you get on
with the Prime Minister?

I hold her

- in enormously high esteem.
- Going in.

Margaret Thatcher is
the daughter of a greengrocer.

She went to a grammar school,
as did Norman Tebbit, Cecil Parkinson.

The Conservative Party has changed

and it's Mrs Thatcher who has changed it.

So why do you think she keeps you around?

Camera one, over to you.

I hope she thinks I'm good at my job.

Do aristocrats make good politicians?

Plenty of them have.

My family has
a strong sense of moral duty.

I inherited that with the house.

Oh. Noblesse oblige.

If you like.
My Latin is not what it used to be.

But with your privileged background,

how can you understand the difficulties
faced by the man on the street?

I can't help
the circumstances of my birth.

It's not what you've got,
it's what you do with it.

Now, your tenure as Minister for Sport
has been controversial.

If you're talking about football,
then the hooligans are a tiny minority.

Well, you have taken a notoriously
light-touch approach to policing the game.

The poor sods are out of work,
their fathers are out of work.

Often their grandfathers too.

Out of the sheer frustration
of not winning, they resort to violence.

I think we should try to
understand the vandals.

Sounds almost socialist.

Although, some people
might call you a vandal.

Of women, horses, marriages.

Still... ...adultery
must prepare you well

- for life within the Conservative Party.
- Oh.

I'm sorry?

You know, sneaking around, lying,
betrayal, sexual degeneracy.

- I'm no longer married.
- Yeah, but you were, for six years.

And yet throughout your marriage,
your affairs were common knowledge.

I mean, one Gloucestershire peer
has described you as

"rather a nasty virus that
everyone's wife caught sooner or later."

Well, if you'd seen his wife,
it's definitely later.

Christ, he really is
an arsehole, isn't he?

And that's the break in five...

- And that's time for a break.
- ...four...

- three...
- Wind it up, Declan.

- Who knows what Mr Campbell-Black might...
- ...two...

- ...choose to share with us when we return.
- ...and we're out.

Clear! And we're back on in three minutes.

Rupert, there's somebody here to see you.

Ooh.

...miner's strike.
He kept the kids off school.

- Taggie, what are you doing here?
- You need to go. Just walk out.

Your father's not the first
old socialist who's tried to catch me out.

Whatever you're worried about,
it's already out there.

No, I know him.

He's saving the worst for later.

When he wants something, he's ruthless.

He'll do anything. I mean, he's--

- He's just like you, Rupert.
- Exactly.

Minister, we need you back on set.
The break's almost over.

Just walk out the building with me.

Minister.

Please.

Five seconds and we're back.

Where the fuck is he?

- Five, four...
- Declan, you're going to have to ad lib.

...three...

two...

Declan, you're on.

Welcome back.

You know what this reminds me of?

Um, being back on the circuit,
having an opponent.

Knowing that I can make a tiny mistake
and it might all be over.

- It's exhilarating.
- This is an interview.

There's no winner.

That's not true though, is it?

He wants to beat me.

- He's trying to distract him.
- I have to say,

- you are unlike my other guests.
- Now's the time, Declan.

- Oh, really?
- Yeah.

Most celebrities are scared that I'll find
out something exposing about them.

- What's she doing here?
- Something is wrong.

The more awful things you do,
the more the public seem to love you.

Well, who am I to argue
with public opinion?

So you don't deny it?

What's that?

That you've done awful things?

I have. You're right.

But isn't that what we do?

We?

Men like us.

I am nothing like you.

Really?

You're cold.

You have had the best education
money can buy,

yet you remain a philistine.

You barely see your children.

You pick up women just because you can,
but you're still fundamentally alone.

And when they can't fill that emptiness
inside you, you discard them.

Despite your gold medals and your money,
you are a lonely man

rattling around a huge empty manor,

and that's how you'll likely
end your days.

You behave like a man
with no secrets and no shame.

Well, there is one thing
I'd like to discuss with you.

You're right. I'm a rake.

A liar.

A cheat.

If there was something I wanted,
I pursued it.

I didn't care about anybody else.

My horses, my teammates, my wife.

- But we're still alike.
- I very much doubt that.

You're the best in the world
at what you do.

Flattery will get you nowhere,
Mr Ca--

I remember what that was like,
being the best.

And what I was willing to do
to stay there.

What are you willing to do?

To your family?

To yourself?

I'm bored of you
tickling each other's balls, Declan.

Get the fucking cat out the bag.

You're right.

I'm a workaholic.

And when I'm consumed by something...

I can be, um...

I can be a--

A monster.

Yeah.

You're probably
a better husband than I was.

After all, you're still married.

I don't know.

I think I'm a pretty bad husband.

Do you think you've ever been in love?

No.

That's my fault.

My ambition hasn't left room
for much else.

Do you think
that will ever change?

The fucker isn't gonna do it.

Well, even if he doesn't destroy Rupert,
this could still be a good show.

Tell me about, um...
Tell me about your childhood.

- Pull the transmission.
- Let's just see where this goes--

If you value your job,
pull the fucking transmission!

No, because this is my show.

- Cut the transmission.
- No.

- Give that to me. Give me that!
- No, no.

Cameron!

- Cameron, for fuck's sake!
- Tony, no.

Trust me.

Listen, you arrogant little Irish prick,

either you destroy the fucker,

or I'm gonna come down
and pull you off the floor myself.

There's no point, Tony.

He's already taken his earpiece out.
He can't hear you.

If it's any consolation,
we've made some really great television.

This would have worked
if you'd just done your fucking job!

Who do you trust?

Who do you count on?

Dogs.

I, um...
...much prefer dogs to people.

I'd give anything to see
my old Labrador, Badger, again.

He was a good dog.

Aw.

So, which of your many sporting
achievements was the hardest won?

Which was the hardest?

The King's Cup, the... the Olympic Gold,
the World Championship?

Well, none of them.

The hardest thing...
...the thing that nearly killed me...

Yeah?

...was giving it all up.

Ladies and gentlemen,
Mr Rupert Campbell-Black.

Coat, sir? Thank you, sir.

Hey, there they are!
Get the drinks in!

Congratulations, darling.

It was great TV, as always.

Did you like the show?

Yeah.

Sorry, Lord B.
Didn't expect to see you there.

Thought you'd be down at Bar Sinister by
now, celebrating with Declan and Rupert.

Great show tonight, by the way.

Best yet.

I want you to stay away from Taggie.

She's young enough to be your daughter.

Yeah, of course.

Good.

Drink?

No, no, I'm... I'm taking Maud home.

What was it that you had on me?

Nothing.

I was just bluffing.

This is karaoke, ladies and gentlemen.

Go, Freddie!

Sorry.

See, I told you it was all gonna be okay.

Gonna dance?

Um...

I'd love to but...

I have to go.

Sorry, angel.

Come on then.

Let him be.

Fuck!

The Falconry.

Oh, hello.

Right. Yes, of course.

Tell whoever it is to fuck off.

I would, darling...

...but it's Margaret Thatcher.

Prime Minister?

She wants to visit the station
and do an interview of her own.

- How wonderful. A real coup.
- Mmm.

Yeah, it's great news.

Mmm.

And all thanks to Rupert,
I suppose.