All language subtitles for The Gentlemen - 1x01 - Refined Aggression.WEB.FLUX.en

You need to finish the cordon by 14:00,
but, um, otherwise, great work.

- Okay, boss.
- Mm-hmm.

No, no, no, no, no, no, listen.
Listen to me.

Tell them I don't care
whose goats they are,

just get them off the road.

Relax, Sergeant. Hold on.

Don't want to cause
an international incident.

Right, gentleman with the mustache,
head in that direction, please.

Gentleman with the eye patch,
head in the opposite direction.

If we can't sort this out amicably.
We'll let the goats decide.

- Don't cock this up.
- Yes, sir.

Bobby!

You all right?

- This man's papers are out of date.
- Let me have a look.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Yeah, it's only three days.
- It is what it is, sir.

Tell them they can come through this time,
but this time only.

- Get them to sort it out for their return.
- Sir.

- Smithy.
- Boss.

- Everything all right?
- All good.

- I'm on it.
- No, no.

- I'll sort this. You stay here.
- Sir.

Selam, merhaba.

Ah. Hello, sir.

Good afternoon, sir.

Ahmed.

I assume this isn't good news.

It was a nasty fall.

- Well, you could've just called me.
- We did, sir. Many times.

Ultimately, your brother decided,

as the eldest son,

that it was necessary to dispatch me

so that I could impress upon you
the severity of the situation.

Is my father gonna die, Ahmed?

His Grace's condition is… serious.

My instruction is
to take you to the airport straight away.

It's all been cleared with your superiors.

Right.

Let's go.

Sergeant.

Anything we can do to help, sir?

You're in charge now, Charlie.

Till I get back.

Welcome home, sir.

- Did you miss me, Mr. Lawrence?
- Terribly.

Hello, Freddy.

Eddie. Edwina, Eduardo, you made it.
Come to me.

Well done, darling boy.

Well done. Let's hug it out. Bring it in.
Hug it out. There we go.

Good to see you.

How is he?

Shit, mate, to be honest. Yeah.

I mean, his goose is…
well and truly cooked.

Doc says it'll be tonight,
tomorrow morning latest.

Hmm. What about you? How you doing?

To be honest, I've got absolutely no idea.
I mean, I'm really just, you know…

How's Mum?

Yeah, she's the one
we need to keep an eye on.

Pretty sure
she's been dipping her beak in Dad's meds.

She's got eyes like fucking… hubcaps.

Right.

- Let's keep it together.
- Okay.

Of course, by that time,

he's three sheets to the wind,
stark-bollock naked.

He'd just forgotten
he was in the Upper Chamber.

- Well, how the devil…
- Hello, Chuckles.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

How is he? Is he lucid?

Oh, sometimes.

He's a bit… in and out.

- When he's there, he's… definitely there.
- Hmm.

Hi, Mum.

- Darling, thank goodness.
- Oh my God.

He'll be glad you came,
even if he doesn't show it.

Shall we go out? Come on, darling.

The first Duke of Halstead
was tough as iron.

Built this place himself.

Every stone of it.

- Single-handed.
- Dad--

Pinched the stone
from the old monastery.

It's me, Edward.

Why'd you turn your back on us, my boy?

Do you think it's brave

to go swanning off playing tough-tough
with your friends? It's not.

The estate is not to be carved up.
Is that clear?

Don't worry about that.
Just get some rest.

And look after your brother.

He won't survive without you.

You understand?

I understand, Dad.

The third duke, mean old bastard,

killed 15 Frenchmen

before lunch.

He was getting himself ready
to fight a duel.

He shot his own foot off.

Ha!

Silly cunt.

Doctor? Uh, Doctor!

Eddie.

And the blessing of God Almighty,

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,

be upon you and remain with you always.

Amen.

This estate has been in the family
for over 600 years,

and Freddy's gonna…
…the lot by Christmas.

- We should do something about it, Edward.
- Hmm.

If Dad left it to you, you'd spend it all
rewilding bears in Berkshire.

What's wrong with bears? I like bears.

They leave no carbon footprint,
and they were here before us.

Yes, and they'll fucking eat you.

Anyway, it's irrelevant.

The entire estate gets handed down
to the firstborn son.

Freddy's the heir, and I'm the spare.

- Maybe we should topple him together.
- Hmm.

Now, there's an idea.

I'm so sorry I'm late.

And here he is.

Your Grace. These narrow country lanes…

How are you feeling? You all right?
Yeah, good. Hang in there.

- Won't be a moment.
- Cup of tea? You all right?

Stuck behind a tractor
half the way as well.

Smashing. Smash-a-roosies.

- No, no, no.
- Right.

- Is everyone ready?
- Hmm. Let's get it over with.

Let's get it over with.

Then I'll begin.

"I, Archibald Horatio Landrover Horniman,

the 12th Duke of Halstead,

being of sound mind

do make, publish, and declare this
to be my last will and testament."

"To Geoffrey Seacombe,

in acknowledgement of his years
of faithful service,

I leave a lifetime tenancy
on the gatekeeper's cottage."

"To my wife, Sabrina,

for her loyalty and faithfulness
throughout our many happy years together,

I leave an annual allowance

that the new duke shall bestow
at his discretion

and my beloved Labrador, Luna."

"To my daughter, Charlotte,

I leave the Endurance,

with the condition
that she sail around the world on her

in the next six months."

Well done, Chuckles.

"As well, a trust fund of £1,000 a week

until she marries

a man."

Wow.

"In terms of the rest of my estate,

including my title,

the house and grounds,

the extensive wine cellar,

the art collection,

the yogurt farm and dairy,

the village of Hetheringham,

as well as the property
in the South of France,

I hereby leave

to my son…"

All right, um--

"…Edward Horniman."

So I think, um…

I was kind of thinking if everybody…
I-If… Um…

Sorry. A-Again for me, old chap.

"I leave to my son

Edward Horniman."

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry this has happened to you.
There must be some sort of… It's…

He's Edward. I'm Freddy.

Sometimes they call me Fredward,
and so it gets a little bit… mixed up.

I think there's some sort
of mistake, unfortunately.

I don't think so.

I get it, you're kidding.
You're kidding around. Was this… This is…

Did you…?
Did you arrange…? This is a joke, right?

This… this is a sick joke. It…

I'm the eldest fucking son!
It was all supposed to go to me!

What… what… what…

- What the fuck is this?
- No. There has to be--

No, no, don't touch me.

Freddy! Freddy, relax.

- Don't you start.
- There's got to be some mistake.

I'm the firstborn son, yeah?

That means, technically,
the title goes to me.

That's not just me saying it
'cause it's what I want.

It's… it's the fucking law.

It goes back to the Bible,
Old Testament, Cain and Abel.

It's the will of God.
The firstborn son gets everything.

It's fucking…
It's… it's… it's… it's… it's…

it's primogenital, is what it is.

Primogeniture, Freddy.

That's what I said.
You know that's what I said.

- You've heard of that, haven't you?
- Of course.

But the will is clear.

The estate goes to Edward,

and the title contains a special remainder

that allows it to pass to the second son--

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I don't give a good God shit

what the terms of the will clearly state!
Here, look.

"The right of succession

to the firstborn,

legitimate male child…"

- Did you actually print that out?
- Freddy--

I don't wanna hear from you either,
Lady Macbeth. Absolutely not, no.

"…to inherit the parents' entire estate."

The house,

the title, fucking everything,

it all goes to me!

Why are you shaking your head?
What are you, a cocktail?

Don't you shake your head at me!

- Meeting adjourned, Your Honor.
- Freddy--

Everybody, let's… Pack it up.

- We'll pick it up later on.
- No, no.

It's over.

You can go home, thank you very much,
Mr. fucking Smithers.

Mr. Burns.

No, it's not happening.
It's not happening.

Haha, good one!

I'm so sorry.

No.

I think we'll reconvene next week
when Freddy's calmed down.

- Talk over details.
- He took it badly.

He's coming back. Perfect.

Absolutely not, no. No. No. No. No.

I am not fucking having it!
Take it up with God!

Take it up with the prime minis--

Take it up
with the House of fucking Commons!

Or take it up the arse for all I care.

I want what is rightfully mine

by divine motherfucking provenance, yeah?!

I've been stabbed in the heart!

I've been London Bridged!

I've been fucked in the face!

Dogged on the floor!

Et tu, Brute?

How did you do it, Judas?

All of you, a conspiracy of snakes!

Ah.

His Grace comes to gloat.

I had no idea.
I'm just as surprised as you are.

Hmm. It's not the same sort of surprise,
though, is it?

For the first time

in 600 years,
this family has broken with tradition.

You fucking leapfrogged
over your older brother!

Not very fraternal, is it, Edward?

Thank you, Wham Tam.
I'll deal with this. I'll be up shortly.

How do you think
that makes me look, Eddie?

Hm? How do you think it makes me feel?

How do you think it helps me

pay my fucking debts?

Debts, Freddy?

Mm-hmm.

What kind of debts?

Big fucking debts.

That sounds ominous.

Yeah, you think?

Story, Freddy.

Do you remember Pete Forbes Spencer?
He was in my house at Eton.

Big hair, tiny cock, sweaty hands.
They called him Sticky Pete.

I remember Pete,
but I don't remember his cock.

Started making a fortune in property.
People were queuing in droves to get in.

I gave him one million,
got 1.5 back three months later.

It was un-fucking-believable.

Next project, skyscraper in the Maldives.

First one. First time.
First come, first served.

One, two, three, four million. Bosh.

And?

Well, then…

And then what, Freddy?

Then the tits went up.

The hurricane hit.
The plane crashed. The lightning struck.

The torpedo went Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

What do you want me to say, Eddie?
It wasn't my fault. God fucked me!

Where did you get
£4 million from, Fredward?

Well, that came from Tommy Dixon.

Right.

And who's Tommy Dixon?

A chap I met in rehab.

Liverpudlian chop dealer.

Said he wanted to front me the money.
Said he wanted "into the Maldives."

So, for clarity,

you owe a Scouse cocaine dealer
£4 million?

No.

I owe a Scouse

crime family…

We're coming for you, Freddy.

…£8 million.

Hold on, Freddy.

Four to eight. Throw me an anchor.

I don't know, Eddie.
Criminal compound interest.

Whatever, okay? They're gangsters.

They fucking make it up as they go along!

All right, mate?

25% every week until the debt's paid.

And they're not afraid of getting nasty
when you don't pay up on time.

If I don't come up with the money
by the end of the week,

they're gonna chop my fucking dick off.

Which is fatal, by the way.
I looked it up.

I can't give you £8 million, Freddy.

You stole my title.

You stole my money.

And now you stole the only way I had
of getting out of this hole

that God fucking dug for me!

Lest we forget, sir,

you owe me your life.

When you were three, I pulled you out
of the duck pond, remember?

No, I don't remember that.

But I do remember
you telling me about it incessantly.

The point is, I saved your life.

Now I'm the one
lying face down in the water,

and you have got to pull me out.

Freddy… I didn't ask for any of this.

The title has no practical value.

The business is broken.

There are holes in the roof.

The government is greedy.

The payroll is ugly.
The staff are revolting.

And you

are a coke-sniffing cunt.

However,

because you've been passed up and you've
been caught with your pants down…

I'll look into it for you.

Daddy,

what have you been up to?

Edward Horniman for Ahmed Iqbal.
Thank you.

How may I help you, Your Grace?

I need to get a large amount of cash
by the end of the week.

How much exactly?

Eight million pounds.

Goodness.

Jesus Christ.

Six million sterling.

Your inheritance has made you
a very wealthy man,

but that doesn't mean to say
that you're rich.

You're asset rich, cash poor.

Tell me,

how come
there are no significant transactions

in any of my father's bank accounts
in the last five years?

Your father's personal expenditure
was something we never discussed.

Right.

What about bonds, stocks and shares?

- There aren't any.
- There…?

There might have been matters
we… didn't address.

But, of course, I couldn't comment.

Well, that's rather cryptic, Ahmed.

You could sell the Gainsborough.

But to attain the ultimate value

will take a number of months.

There has been a…
slightly unconventional approach

from a lawyer based in London.

His client has expressed an interest
in purchasing Halstead Manor.

When someone dies,
the vultures start circling.

Rather cheeky, isn't it?

Hmm.

What's his name?

The potential purchaser wishes
to remain anonymous at this stage.

But his lawyer has stated

that he'd be willing to pay
well above the market value.

That could be a significant sum.

But there's probate and capital gains
to take into account.

Tell them

I'd be willing
to potentially entertain an offer

if he's aggressive and quick.

Forgive me
for stating the obvious,

but I would be in remiss of my duties
not to point out

that Halstead Manor's been
in your family for generations.

Since 1550.

But as I said,
I need money by the end of the week.

- Set up a meeting, please.
- Understood.

Sorry to disturb you.
Allow me to introduce myself.

I'm Susie Glass.

How can I help you, Ms. Glass?

I used to be in business with your father.

Well, forgive my confusion,

but my father wasn't exactly known
for his business acumen.

I have certain… interests

I need to discuss with you.

What kind of interests?

Probably easier if I just show you.

I liked your father.
He was a proper gentleman.

A tad eccentric, but your lot are.

Must've come as a bit of a shock,
inheriting everything.

The house. The title.

Worse things have happened to me.

Did he mention the revenue
he was making from the farm?

No, he didn't.

Couldn't have been significant,
otherwise I'd have known about it.

Depends what you consider
to be "significant."

He was making £5 million in cash a year.

Plus profit share.

Excuse me?

Five million pounds?

I'm guessing it wasn't
from yogurts and burgers, Ms. Glass?

Follow me.

Now, what happens down there?

Ah.

What the fuck

is going on?

The cannabis market in the UK
is worth over six billion a year.

Now, we've managed to corner
a substantial share of that market,

but the challenge is
finding the space to grow it.

That's where your father came in.

In return for a generous consideration,

he let us carry out our activities
with the necessary impunity.

Turns out
there ain't that many 15,000-acre estates

where you can do whatever you want
without anyone knowing.

- What's this one called, Jimmy?
- Frisian duck.

Very popular right now.

This is Jimmy.

He's been product supervisor here for…
How long's it been now, Jimmy?

Three years now, boss. That's how long
I've been living under your gaff.

I can't believe we finally get to meet!

Me and you, we's like fam.

Except you, you's like a duke, innit?

Nice to finally meet you, Jimmy.

Assuming my father was receiving about…
10% a year, which would seem fair,

this place must be turning over
50 million a year.

You're in the right ballpark.

And being that you said you have
a substantial share of the market…

One would assume "substantial"
means half or more.

That means this is a very small cog
in a much larger machine.

You must have dozens of places like this
all over the country.

Your father never concerned himself
with the workings of the wider operation.

Well, I'm very curious.

All you need to know
is that we have an agreement

that means, as the new landlord,

you will receive
a significant amount of money every year

in return for letting us
carry out our activities.

Well, the trouble is, I might have
to put the house on the market.

We'd prefer to keep things as they are.

I'm sorry if that puts you
in an awkward position, Ms. Glass,

but it's my house,
and my hand might be forced.

I completely understand, Your Grace.

What if I wanted to renegotiate?

If you were serious
about wanting to sell the property,

that would be… challenging for us.

- Legally, there's nothing you can do.
- You're right.

There's nothing legal
we could do about it.

Is that a threat I sense in the equation?

Absolutely not.

Look, it's a lot to take on board.
I can understand that.

Normally in these kinds of situations,

certain discussions
have been made beforehand.

And normally, the weak-willed,
work-shy, public school-educated heir

takes the money
and rolls over like a good little boy.

I wouldn't put it quite like that.

But yeah.

See how you feel once it's percolated.
Would you like a lift back to the house?

No, thanks. I'll walk.

Your Grace.

Oh, hello, Geoff.

Found her wandering around the lake. I was
gonna take her up to Your Ladyship's.

Actually, Geoff,

wouldn't mind a chat,
if you have the time.

Well, I normally have a cup of tea
around this time of day.

Perfect.

How long
have you been working here, Geoff?

What is it, 20 years?

I'm not good with years.

But you and your brother
were still in shorts.

I know you've always been
incredibly loyal to my father.

Gave me an opportunity
when I was in a bit of bother.

Didn't have to,
but he did, and that's what counts.

I also know that nothing happens on
this estate without you knowing about it.

That'd be fair to say.

So I assume you have some understanding
of what's going on.

That would also be fair to say.

- Milk, one sugar?
- Thank you.

I see you've been introduced to Ms. Glass.

Which also makes me think

you also know what's been going on.

What's the extent of your involvement?

I make it my business
not to be my business.

15,000 acres is enough to keep me busy.

Especially when you take in
every wounded animal you come across.

It's like a bloody zoo in here.

Yeah, Charlie got hit by a car.

Sarah-Jane flew into a window.

My little mate here,
she's got a broken leg.

Hmm.

Is that a fox, Geoff?

Yeah.

Aren't you employed to cull foxes?

Is there something specific
you wanted to ask me, Your Grace?

Yes.

My father was happy with the status quo.

I'm not sure
I'm entirely comfortable with it.

Well, that could be difficult.

These are serious people, by all accounts.

So you think I should
just keep the money and keep schtum?

Worked for your father, more or less.

Now they got their roots in.

The trouble is,
I've run into a spot of bother.

And for various reasons,

I need their help.

Help, they'll give ya.

But it'll come at a price.

Hmm.

- What do you know about them?
- They're dangerous bastards.

At the end of the day,
they're businessmen.

As long as you're gonna make 'em money,
they'll have a conversation with ya.

You need to be careful.

Although they appear to be house-trained,
don't be deceived by the facade.

Hi, Ahmed. Edward Horniman.

I've decided
to take the house off the market.

- Thank you, Bradley.
- Your Grace.

Ah. Morning, Chuckles.

Edwina.

Like some tea?

I don't have time.
I've got a train to catch.

Dressed for your world tour?

Do I look like
I'm dressed for a world tour? No.

Mummy's persuaded me to go back to uni
to finish the year.

Sounds surprisingly sensible.

Freddy's the one
she should be worrying about.

Don't you worry about Freddy.

I'll look after Freddy.

- Would you like a hand with your bags?
- You? The gentleman?

- Bradley.
- Of course, Your Grace.

Good luck, Chuckles.

Your Grace.

Come on, Bradley, chop chop.

Oi, Jacky! Come here.

It's the duke.

Hi there, Your Grace.

I need to raise
£8 million very quickly.

Oh, eight million. That's a big number.

My brother's in debt
to a Liverpudlian drug cartel.

- What did he say the guy's name was?
- Tommy Dixon.

I know him.

- How much of the eight's interest?
- Half.

That's strong.

The interest rate wasn't made clear
on the inception of the loan.

And, obviously,
my options are severely limited

in terms of raising the required funds,

given our business agreement.

Let me see what I can do. How much
do you reckon you'd be able to get?

Not sure. I'm working on it.

If you can take care of four, I'll see
what I can do with the other four.

I'll get back to you.

What do you reckon, bruv?

I know Tommy Dixon.
And his brother, The Gospel.

Pair of drug-dealing Scousers
that have got God on their side.

Naughty?

Naughty but not double naughty.

I reckon you can squeeze him.
Once they know who our dad is.

Hmm. Where can I find them?

Fish market. He hides behind the mackerel.
That's their front.

Come on, Jacky!

Go on. Get back to it.

Elmo, incoming, son.

Try not to hurt yourself.

My name is Stevens.

I'm the personal assistant
to a private individual

who's interested in
purchasing Halstead Manor.

I must say, my client
was somewhat disappointed

to hear you'd instructed your lawyers
to pull out of negotiations

before he'd had the chance
to counter with a more… attractive offer.

That notwithstanding,

my client would like to see

if you'd be open
to a face-to-face meeting.

Who exactly is your client?

If you're willing to come with me,

I could have you sitting with him
by, ooh, elevenses.

Thank you, but my situation has changed.
I am no longer selling.

Mr. Lawrence.

My client understands

that this represents
a considerable inconvenience to yourself.

So… he'd like to make you an offer.

250,000 Great British pounds.

For your time.

Non-recoupable, of course.

Would you care to follow me, Your Grace?

Handsome-looking turbot.
Two and a half kilos.

Not bad for a wild fish.

All right, sweetheart.
You looking or buying?

Neither. I'm here for you.

My name's Susie Glass.

Eloquent and stylish daughter
of Bobby Glass?

I respect Bobby.

Everyone respects Bobby.

Can we have a little convo
about Freddy Horniman?

25% a week, son.

Till the debt's paid.

Let's go upstairs.

So I hear your dad's caught a nasty cold.

How long's he got left?

He's four into a ten stretch.

Ouch.

I've heard nothing but good things
about your operation.

I used to think
the puff game was too much hassle.

Too bulky, not enough return.
Sounds like you've got it under manners.

We've always steered clear of the powder.

Means we're not in competition
with each other.

What I can't understand is,

what's the connection
with you and that posh twat?

I have a business interest

that could be put in jeopardy
by this little debt of his.

And I wanted to see if there was a way
we might be able to resolve it.

Eight million's a lot of money.

But 100% of fuck all is fuck all.

Look, we both know
you're not gonna get the full eight,

so let's be realistic.

What happens
if I can get you the original four

in cash by the end of the week?

I can't just write off
four million in interest.

What about if we treat it
as an investment into your operation?

No, that's not gonna work.
I'm not looking for investors.

But I am still trying to find
a way through this. Somehow.

- When would I get the four million?
- You can pick it up on Friday.

Sweetened with a bar's worth
of white widow super cheese.

All right.

On one condition.

He's got to apologize.

And he's got to admit that he's a cock.

Understood.

And I want it recorded for posterity.

There's a video
I would like him to emulate.

Right.

Well, there's videos and there's videos.

It's nothing nasty.

So,

if I get you the four

and the super cheese

and the video,

with an apology,

are we good?

Oh aye, yeah.
You get me all that, we're golden.

Thank you, Jeffrey.

Sir, the Duke of Halstead,
Edward Horniman.

- Good morning.
- Pleasure, Your Grace.

Stanley Johnston. With a 'T'.

You'd probably like to know

why I am so interested
in buying your family estate.

I would, rather.

Hmm. Thank you, Stevens.

The truth is, it's a paragon of an example

of the architectural philosophy
of William Kent,

who was a jack of all trades.

And a master of some.

Hmm. So you're familiar
with his philosophy?

Wasn't it something to do
with the reconciliation

of the feral with the refined?

A worthy obsession that we both share.

People either survive in the jungle
or exist in the zoo.

Few recognize the significance

of the paradoxical reconciliation
of the two.

It takes a rare individual

who understands how cunning
and aggressive one has to be

to acquire an estate such as yours.

Your house is a testament
to the synthesis of this culture.

Refinement

with aggression.

The first duke
understood this principle, as do I.

Which is why I intend to offer you
an obscene amount of money

for your country estate.

Well, that's a compelling sales pitch.

But if you put it like that,

you run the danger
of selling it back to me.

Now, shall we play or shall we talk?

Do you drink wine?

Value is derived from what
someone's willing to pay for something.

If I say it's worth that much,

it's worth it.

At least to me.

Well, that's quite a number.

And I appreciate the lengths
you've gone to present it to me.

I've changed my mind, however.
The land's not for sale.

Thank you.

I hope you don't disapprove

in the way I prefer my wine presented.

In breaking with tradition.

I like to decant and clean the liquid.

Clear the bottle of any sediment.

Then return the wine

so it can be enjoyed
in its original housing.

Speaking of housing,

I'm prepared to go
farther north of that number.

Why don't you allow me to provide the keys

to free yourself
from your inherited legacy?

It may be surprising to you,

but I appreciate

the paradoxical blessing and curse
of your perceived privilege.

Well, I appreciate the appreciation.

But timing is everything,
and now is not the right time.

Stevens, please.

Mr. J.

- Thank you.
- My pleasure.

Mm. Yummy.

The Romanée-Conti 2002.

- Are you a fan of DRC?
- Mm.

I'm more of a Bordeaux man myself.

But my father,
he was all about the Burgundy.

He collected the DRC.

Have you ever tried an '82?

I understand there are only
six cases left in the world.

Eight, actually.

Two belong to the Crown Estate.

One belongs to the Archduke of Moldova.

And the rest… Well, they're in our cellar.

Along with two cases of the '45.

Ah, the temptation is too much.

If you won't allow me to buy the house,
please allow me to buy the wine.

I promise I will be very generous.

What about the wine?

That could reach three,

but, again, that will take time.

It'd be very hard for me to let that go.

- Your Grace.
- Mr. Stevens.

Let's go.

- My father's wine collection.
- In paper. Exactly what we need.

That, plus the money in the safe,

should clear my brother's debt.

Assuming your conversation
with Mr. Dixon went well.

There's a couple of caveats.

But he's agreed to accept the four
as long as it's cash and tomorrow.

Eight to four. That's very impressive.

Think of it as a gesture of goodwill.
From me.

Everything all right?

No, not really.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Edwina, just hear me out, okay?

This guy's a two-time
world heavyweight champion.

- How much did you put on?
- Yeah, well, all of it.

It's a dead cert, bro.
Winner takes all. I met his trainer.

What's the name of the bookie
you made the bet with? Tell me now.

There's no bookies in this kind of fight.
It's very exclusive and off the record.

It's V-V-VIP.

Hold on. How did you place a bet
if there's no bookie, Freddy?

Through a friend of a friend.

What do you mean,
"a friend of a friend"? Who?

Pete. He's got a mate
who put five mill on the guy.

- He's cutting me in.
- Jesus fucking Christ. Sticky Pete?

Haven't you learnt your lesson?

Look, he wants to make amends, Eddie.
There's no way this guy's not gonna win.

It's Joey Bang*Bang.

Tell Pete you made a mistake.

Tell him you're sorry,
and get my fucking money back.

Gotta go.
They're putting phones in Kevlar bags.

That's how exclusive this place is.

- Freddy, listen to me. Freddy!
- Okay, gotta go. Love you. Bye.

Ooh, it's fight night, phone man.
I'm feeling good.

- We're gonna need to find this fight.
- I know a man.

- All right, Suze?
- Jacky boy.

Your Highness.

Jack.

- You got the readies?
- Yeah. Here you go.

- 200, yeah?
- Mm.

I can't make no promises.

I'll have a word with the geezer
on the door, see what he can do.

Don't move.

Your brother seems functional.
That must be useful.

- He's not always that functional.
- Why, what's his vice?

- His cock.
- What does he do with it?

Usual thing. Just a lot of it.

So I managed to snag you
a couple of tickets.

But listen, you've gotta remember,
this fight's completely off the books.

Results stay in the room

as these are both world champion boxers.

They don't wanna lose their ranking.

And, Suze, no grief.
It's my name on the line tonight.

- All right.
- Enjoy.

Come on. Let's get the money back.

It's not often
they put on these get-togethers.

That table's flown in from Vegas.

Gypsy Kid's very popular
with our friends across the Atlantic.

The big ticket's Joey Bang*Bang.
You've got the Americans.

Then you've got the Albanians.
The Chinese.

The Russians,
sitting happily next to the Ukrainians.

And then the traveling community.

Get him!

Nothing brings people together
like a spot of blood on the canvas.

There'll be 50-100 million British pounds
rattling around in here tonight.

Yeah. And a few of those are mine.

Psychology, baby.

Edwina, how the fuck did you get in?

- Money.
- What money?

Freddy's money. Which is my money.

Nothing I can do about that now.
Fight's started.

Eddie, I've got this under control, okay?

Freddy, I'll deal with you later.

You need to find whoever laid the bet
and get my money back.

Will you relax?
There's no way Bang*Bang's gonna lose.

He's pulverizing him.
You're ruining the experience.

It's fight night, okay? Fight night!

Can we talk about this in a minute?

Listen to me, Peter.

Without knowing it,

you have stepped into a world
that you are not familiar with.

That money is expected by someone
who will not suffer disappointment.

Oh, I'm sorry. That sounds like a threat.
It's not my problem. It's yours.

It's gonna be your fucking problem.

Your brother put that money
on Joey Bang*Bang.

Joey wins, your brother's
about to double his money.

If he loses, that money
doesn't belong to him anymore,

and there's nothing
anyone can do about it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Take it easy.
Susie Glass wants to see you.

I'm not done with you.

Okay, whatever. Why don't you fuck off?

Thank you, Roger.

- How'd that work out?
- Not as well as I would have liked.

Well, sit down, have a drink,

watch the fight.
We'll figure something out.

You got this, Bang*Bang.
You got this, baby girl.

What? What is it?

It's a scam.

What do you mean, it's a scam?

He never places the bets, mate.

He preys on the posh.

Only rinses the privileged.

Then he protects himself
with plastic gangsters

that he's immersed himself with,

and your lot
are too intimidated to complain.

You never placed the fucking bet.

That's a very serious allegation,
Your Grace.

The fundamental rules of gambling
are very simple.

Uh, when you lose, you pay up.

What do you think, John?

I think you should fuck off
back to your country house

and wank off your spaniel.

Get your hands off me.

Careful, posh boy.

We know where you live,
and we do knock on doors.

You're embarrassing yourself.

You're not in the army anymore.
You've got nothing to back you up.

No!

Why's he lying on the ground?
Someone get him up off the ground!

No! No! Fuck off. No!

Any evolution?

No.

We need to leave. Now.

Do you mind if I talk to him?

Once things have calmed down.

Does the name Stanley Johnston
ring a bell?

No, why?

He's the chap
I just sold the wine to.

He is very interested
in buying the estate.

And the kind of money
he was offering suggested

he might know
something about the operation.

- What did you say his name was?
- Stanley Johnston.

With a 'T'.

What did you say to him?

I said it wasn't for sale.

Well done. That's the correct answer.

Take a look at this.

What is it?

The lyrics

to a song Freddy's gotta sing
when he hands the money over.

And he's gotta dance. Like a chicken.

Like a chicken?

Like a chicken.

Why does he have to dance like a chicken?

Because Tommy Dixon,
understandably, needs an apology.

Party time.

"I'm a posh twat who fucked up,
ee-i-ee-i-o."

"I fucked up
because I'm a knob, ee-i-ee-i-o."

"With a twat, twat here,
and a twat, twat there."

How old is Tommy Dixon?

It's a small price to pay.

Want us to count it?
Guy said it's all there.

- No, I'm good.
- You sure? It'll just take a little while.

No, come on, let's go.

All right. I think he wants to say sorry.

Oh. Do you want an apology?

I don't know. Do I?

Yes, you do. We need closure.

Blanket!

One Sticky Pete.

I… I just wanted to say sorry

from the bottom of my heart.

Ah, that's nice, innit, Eddie?

I gave you back the money,
and I've said I'm sorry,

so are we cool?

I don't know.

Are we cool, Edward?

Yeah.

Yeah, we're cool.

You said you were gonna talk to him.

Oh, we did.

Don't worry about him. We did him a favor.

We discipline the dog, not the man.

What's that supposed to mean?

There's a dog in a man
that the man can't control.

So we had to control it for him.

Know what the fundamental challenge
with the human condition is?

No.

But filling in the blanks,
is it too much dog and not enough man?

Too much untrained dog.

And we are in the dog training business.

Pull!

Oh, for fuck's sake!
I've missed ten on the bounce, Geoff.

There's a problem with the weighting.
They're flying too fast.

This time, we don't shoot at the target.

We shoot four feet in front of it.

That's exactly what I'm doing, Geoffrey.

Well, this time,

we try and miss it in front.

Pull.

Smashed it!

Natural-born killer, Your Grace.

Well done, Fredward.

Ah, Edwina.

Yes, please, Mr. Lawrence.

- Wham Tam.
- Edwina.

- How did you get on with Pete?
- I got the money back.

What? How come?

He never placed the bet.

- What do you mean he never placed the bet?
- I mean he never placed the bet.

Oh, that fucking…

But Mr. Dixon has agreed to take the four,
which means we're good for tomorrow.

Well, fuck a duck. Well played.
How'd you manage that?

Four million off the eight.
I mean… Christ.

I'd suck his cock for four big ones.

That's good to know, Freddy.

There is, however, one

minor caveat.

- What do you mean, "minor caveat"?
- Break the gun, please, Freddy.

He wants you to say you're a cock.

He wants me to…

Fine. I'm a cock.

There. Fucking easy-peasy. No problem.

Good.

Everyone thinks I'm a cock anyway, right?
He does. Pete does.

Dad definitely fucking did, or he wouldn't
have cut me out of his will.

What about you? Do you think I'm a cock?

- Well, you have been a bit of a cock.
- Right, okay.

Doesn't mean you always are.

Well, that's just fucking…

Geoff? Do you think I'm a cock?

Cheers, Geoff.
Wham Tam, what about you? Am I a cock?

All men are cocks, Freddy.

- Fine, whatever. Anything else?
- Yes.

He wants you to do a dance
and sing the apology. It's right here.

He's dressed like a chicken.

Yes. There is that too.

Fine.

I'm a chicken.

Cluck, cluck, flap, flap, I'm so sorry.
There. What else?

He wants to film the performance.

No.

I'm not doing it.
I'm not fucking doing it.

Hold on. Two minutes ago,
you were willing to suck his cock.

Yeah, in private, Eddie.

He's going to film it, Freddy.

He's not fucking filming it, Eddie!

Yes, he is.

You asked for my help,
and I'm helping you.

Not because you fished me out of a pond
when I was three,

but because you are my brother,
and that's what brothers do.

As a result, you have to do
everything that I tell you

from now on.

And if that means dancing like a chicken,

you dance like a chicken.

You don't dance like a stripper
or a bear or a balle-fucking-rina.

You dance like a chicken.

Is that clear?

You've taken everything else from me.
Why not take what's left of my dignity?

Is that clear, Freddy?

Yes, Your Grace.

Quite the gaff.

Thomas. I did say the back door.

Tradesmen's entrance.
You are a tradesman, after all.

The trade was
I'm dropping from eight to four.

So I think that means
I can walk in the front door.

Come on, then.

Hey, soft lad, don't forget the suit.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Dixon.
- All right?

Thanks for making the trip.
We appreciate you're a very busy man.

Oh, it was a very pretty drive.
Beautiful countryside.

That for me, is it?

As promised. Would you like to count it?

Nah, I'll let Jethro do that.

Hey, Jezza, you're up, mate.

Hey! Soft lad!

Is it all right
if he sets up on that desk there?

Yeah, of course. Take a seat.

He's got OCD, our Jethro.

Takes him a while to get going.
Once he does, there's no stopping him.

Right. Shall we get started, then?

Uh, yeah, listen, Tommy,
about the whole chicken thing,

look… I'm happy to put on the suit.

I'm happy to do the dance, obviously,

just to show you how genuinely apologetic
I am about this whole thing.

But… you've got your money,
you'll have had your fun,

and I'll have eaten humble pie.
The whole… the whole pie.

You don't have to film it. Do you?

That's why I agreed
to take the four instead of the eight.

You're thinking about this all wrong.

Your participation in this movie
is gonna earn you four million quid.

That's a million quid a minute.

You'll be about the best-paid actor
in the world.

You should be celebrating,
not negotiating.

Listen, mate,

that shit could follow me around forever.

Get your hand off me.

I'm not your mate.

Don't confuse our roles here.

Today, you work for me.

I direct, and you perform.

And I wanna get value for fucking money.

Come on, Freddy.
It's just a song. Let's get it done.

Suit. Show.

Go.

I need a minute to, uh…

…get prepared.

Want the wolf
in the henhouse?

Ee-i-ee-i-o

Chicken. Chick--

You're a chicken, man.

You're a fucking… You're a Scouser, mate.

Right!
Let's fucking do this thing.

Where do you want me?
Aren't you gonna get your camera out?

That's not how this works.

You're gonna dance,

and then I will judge

whether I deem
your performance film-worthy.

Do you know
why you're dressed as a chicken?

Oh, I don't know, to, uh, to humiliate me
in front of the whole fucking world?

There's a reason I didn't ask you
to get dressed as an eagle.

Eagles don't dance.

They soar. Through the air.

But a chicken's
the bottom of the food chain.

You're a chicken, aren't you, Freddy?

You had to get bailed out
of a debt you couldn't repay.

But you can repent.

My brother's a big fan of repentance.

And a proportion of this debt is his.

He sees this dance as a parable.

Therefore,

you don't just pretend to be a chicken.

You've gotta actually be a chicken.

Do you understand?

The remedy is in the poison.

Come on. Let's see your chicken.

All right.

- Let's see you, come on.
- All right!

No. What the fuck is that?

What the fuck
kind of shit chicken is that?

Come on, let's go! Let's fucking chicken!

Posh twat.

Waddle like a fucking chicken!

Do the sound.

That's shit!

Move your neck.

- Be a chicken!
- I am a fucking chicken!

I want you to be a chicken.

I want you to feel it.

I want you
to transform into a chicken.

I don't want
any vestige of humanity left in ya.

I just wanna see… bird.

So come on.

Let's see it.

What are you doing?
That's not how a chicken walks. Come on!

- Come on, peck! Lay a fucking egg!
- I am fucking pecking!

- I'm pecking!
- Get up on that sofa and fly off.

I'm a cock!

- Be a chicken!
- I can't actually fucking fly, Tommy!

Just be a fucking chicken! Come here!

Come on!

Look, there's all grain there.

Look, come and peck the grain. Come here.

There's a worm.

I want you to eat the worm,
you fucking chicken!

Come here! There's a fucking worm here.

There's a worm!

Peck the grain! Peck it, come on!

Peck the fucking grain!

I'm pecking the fucking grain.
I'm pecking the fucking grain!

Susie, this has got to stop. Come on.

Stay out of it.

Come and eat this fucking worm!
Come and eat the worm!

Come and eat the worm,
you fucking chicken!

Tommy! That's enough!

Hey, fuck off! Don't you interfere!

Otherwise, it goes back up
to eight million!

Can we just film this
so we can wrap this up?

He's gotta attain the frequency first.

I need him to become a chicken.

You fucker!

Come on! Be a fucking chicken!

I c--

I need to go to the toilet.

Go on, fuck off!

Hurry up!

Hey, Tommy.

Who's the chicken now?

- Freddy!
- Fuck off!

I shot him in the head
Because he was a cock

Ee-i-ee-i-o

Well, there's a bang, bang here
And a bang, bang there

Here a dead, there a dead
Everywhere a dead guy's brains

I just shot a guy in the head

Ee-i-ee-i-o!

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

And on this farm, he had some chicks
Ee-i-ee-i-o

A chick, chick here
A chick, chick there

Here a chick, there a chick
Everywhere a chick

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

And on this farm, he had some ducks
Ee-i-ee-i-o

A quack, quack here
A quack, quack there

Here a quack, there a quack,
Everywhere a quack

Chick, chick here, chick, chick there
Here a chick, there a chick

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

And on this farm, he had some pigs
Ee-i-ee-i-o

An oink, oink here, oink, oink there
Here an oink, there an oink

Quack, quack here, quack, quack there
Here a quack, there a quack

Chick, chick here, chick, chick there
Here a chick, there a chick

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

And on this farm he had a fork
Ee-i-ee-i-o

Clink, clink here, a clink, clink there
Here a clink, there a clink

Oink, oink here, oink, oink there
Here an oink, there an oink

Quack, quack here, a quack, quack there
Here a quack, there a quack

Chick, chick here, a chick, chick there
Here a chick, there a chick

Old MacDonald had a farm
Ee-i-ee-i-o

Old MacDonald had a farm

And on his farm he had some cows