Subtitle by peritta
Beats By Dre, £199.
Abo & Fitch,
£79.95.
SHB Vehicle Hire,
£69.
That's actually bloody decent for a quad bike rental.
Jack Wills...
Now, please can you just understand
that this was for an entire winter look.
...£467.55.
The Sock Factory...
That's the name of a website, not an actual factory that I bought...
Enough. Seriously. Before I puke up my cheesy frites.
I set you up for an interview with Magda at Jonty Bonty
and you do what?
I fucked it.
Yeah. You fucked it. In all available holes.
Fanny, mouth, arse and a bollock up each nostril.
- I tried. Really hard... - No, I know what you did Jonathan.
I wasn't born Tuesday, AKA yesterday.
Well - that is it. I'm disconnecting the pipe.
What pipe?
The money pipe, Jonathan.
I've sorted you a job.
Junior position, shit pay.
Until you accept, you are officially cut off.
- Oregon? - Oh, I'm just, erm, burning some poems.
Right. The, er, competition.
Yeah. Bit of a "poetry surplus" scenario.
But I mean, you have read them all, though?
I've read them. Yeah.
I've nearly read most of these poems.
Do you think that you should maybe... come clean?
Come clean about what?
- Taking 20 grand and wasting it on a poetry prize. - It's not wasted!
Arts. Legacy.
Patronage.
It's OK.
Everything's basically going to be OK.
Right. Back to the bonfire!
- I'll get marshmallows! - OK.
- I make that precisely Bonk o'... - [GIRL GASPS]
...clock.
Oh, God.
Oh. Hello?
- Sorry... - No! No, God, I'm sorry, I... I should've knocked.
Erm... But this is great. Erm, you two just crack on.
Give him a... bloody good bonking,
and I... I shall take my leave!
He's a clever, clever bastard.
He's isolated my one weakness.
Poverty.
Poverty is like my Kryptonite.
I think poverty is everyone's Kryptonite, JP.
You know what? It's fine, I can do it.
I can live on the breadline. It'll be fucking fun!
Shopping around for deals, using vouchers for Prezzo.
Oh, yeah. I mean, if you get really strapped you could always
sell your collection of antique Edwardian nutcrackers.
Yes, Vod. Or, we could bring out our mutual friend, Cunty Landlord.
"Oh. Hello, Cunty, how are you today?"
[DEEP VOICE]: "I'm fine, thank you, JP. Has Vod paid her rent this week?"
"No. She hasn't, Cunty."
All right. Easy.
Got more angry paper.
It's so red. So angry.
Oggs. More poetry for you.
Right. I'll get the wheelbarrow.
It just all seems a bit... indulgent, a bit... braggy.
- A bit "Look at me." - Howard, it's a CV, mate.
It's supposed to be a BIT "Look at me."
I don't like to boast.
I'm small-headed. Though ironically
when it comes to helmet rental I always come up large.
It's Ordnance Survey. OK.
They've probably got 28,000 candidates for that one position.
Oh - quick warning, I've got Bad-Soc this afternoon
so don't expect any sense out of me tonight!
Ooh... Badminton. The last refuge of the fucking loser.
Mind your backs.
Er, Vod. This isn't Badminton, this is Radminton.
More like... Sadminton.
More like Madminton.
Last week, we ended up doing vodka shots out of a shuttlecock.
- Shuttlecocks have got holes in them? - Exactly!
Cos that's how fucking mad we are.
So... yeah, I'm pretty much set up for friends next year.
Game, set and trashed.
It's from Fulbright. The scholarship people. That's going to be me, Vod.
Stroking books and just... laughing.
Great.
Professor Dumblefuck's International School of Book-Stroking.
Hmm...
I think I may sell these nutcrackers after all.
How's the novella?
It's a novel.
Course it is.
Well... thanks for pitching in with the reading.
Pleasure.
And thus did I decamp to fair Buxton,
and therein did immerse myself in verse.
The majority of which,
sorry to conjure, were read in a Radox-filled bubble bath.
- What's this? - Those are my receipts, Oregon.
That you very kindly offered to cover in lieu of my standard
- reader's fee. - Three grand?!
Johnnie Walker?
Turbot?
What the fuck is a Belvedere?
It's a type of cigar.
Is that a new cardie?
Have you had your teeth whitened?
Oregon, that is an outrageous accusation,
that really is from the bottom drawer.
How am I supposed to get three grand of turbot past accounts?
This thing is spiralling.
Oregon, if you're struggling, just reach out and ask for help.
No, it's fine. I can bury it.
These... will not be a problem.
I can just make the necessary...
adjustments to the budget.
Everything will be...
Those are new fucking shoes, Tony. I can see the soles!
Have you seen where they're holding the Graduation Ball?
Fucking Distractions!
Oh... I like Distractions.
It's a worm-pit.
It's basically a portal to hell with a chewy toothbrush dispenser.
The DJ wears a funny wig. It is a solid night out.
It was like a green quiff, if you can imagine such a thing.
I mean, why not go all out and hold it in the fucking Wild Bean Cafe?!
That's not as mad as it sounds.
If you don't like it, why don't YOU sort something, Kingo?
Oh, yeah, Vod - I'll sort something out.
Cos that's the sort of thing that happens.
"Oh, let's have a party.
"What sort of records will I play at my party?
"Where will all the people put their coats?
"Or should I just put all the coats in a big bag?"
Wake up, Vod, fuck's sake. Huh?
Alternative Grad Ball. Think about it.
So... I have a first draft.
My CV.
The life and times of Howard Redacted MacGregor.
The first thing you'll notice is the impeccable formatting.
And then almost immediately your eye will be drawn to a jarring blend
blend of fonts - Avenir Medium for the body
and Franklin Gothic Bold for the headers.
A kind of niggling disparity which wills you to look away but
of course, you cannot.
- Instep? - Blood group?
- Potted dental history? - Oh - can I see that?
Hobbies and interests, N/A?
Not applicable.
I did not know that about your premolars.
You need interests, Howard. Just put anything.
- I could put vintage Japanese erotica. - Yeah, don't put that.
Even your teeth make you sound weird.
Just make something up, Howard. Lie.
Well... I'm off to "Lee Dull"...?
Lie-Dull?
The horrible place with the free food.
Josie... I'm a bit confused,
Do you think maybe we could have a little chat about our trade agreement?
Re. er, docking at Smuggler's Cove.
Probably my least favourite vagina euphemism.
So, just to clarify -
erm, I am... still free to, er,
trade my bananas with other interested regions?
No, JP.
Because I'm so in love with you.
[SARCASTICALLY] "Oh, Josie loves JP!
"Maybe she should get him a Valentine's card!"
Basically, I wouldn't be that upset if you died -
- I mean, I'd be sad, but I'd rally pretty bloody quickly.
So... yeah, maybe we should just forget the whole thing.
Oh. Fine, yeah, I mean... you know. If that's what you want?
Well, that way you don't have to worry about me barging in on you when you're balls-deep.
- Do you really want to know what this is? - Yes.
It's a fuck-fest free-for-all, and we're just two horny atoms
who keep... accidentally smashing into each other. Capiche?
Yeah. Capiche.
I'm really glad we cleared that up.
Good. Now I'm cocking off. For now - we badminton!
MUSIC: Kids In America by Kim Wilde
Shuttlecock shot!
Ohhhh!
We only need 15 more and then we can move for impeachment.
It's a petition. To have Oregon Shawcross kicked out of office.
Yeah, sorry. I can't sign this.
Erm, she's actually a friend of mine.
She's running this union into the ground.
Slashing resources and jizzing away God-knows-how much on her thing.
Think you better go.
Dale?
Guys... Seriously? You want me to go?
I'm Jumping Josie Jones. The mad slag of Bad-Soc.
I just don't think that you'd be particularly comfortable,
with the kind of activism WE'VE got in mind.
Like what?
We are going to burn an effigy of Oregon in the quad.
Wow. OK, yeah. Erm...
first off can I just say, and this didn't come from me...
Burn the witch, burn the witch, burn the witch!
Erm... I'm just joking obviously, she is a really great friend but...
Y'know, any information you could give us...
would be really appreciated.
So, I've been thinking about this Alternative Grad Ball.
I think it could look pretty good on the old CV.
Plus, bit of a cheeky middle digit up to those goons at 6Music.
My first question as a punter is, will it be boring?
Why would it be boring?
I do need your help.
You've got 60 seconds then I must get back to the books.
Right. Theme?
Oh, erm, Carnevale di Venezia.
- So, Carnival of Venice. A masked ball. - So an orgy?
Not an orgy. Like a warehouse party, but in a marquee?
Italian Hard House.
You know, like a rave but, erm, sort of with cheese?
A classy masked rave in a large tent, with loads of cheese?
Right, let's talk toilets.
One unit per ten females, er, trough-style urinals for the blokes.
Speak to the farmer whose field it is, he'll, er,
let you dump your turds in his silo and that way you'll save on pumpage.
- Next? - Um...
So, erm, yeah, er, so in terms of types of cheese,
I was thinking, erm, Grana Padano and Pecorino Romano?
Dude, you've got 15 seconds left and you want to ask me about cheese?
- Erm... no? - What about car-parking?
Ticketing, wrist-bands, security,
insurance, rigging, lighting, gaffers?
Stage-hire, roadies, hand-stampers, and that's time.
Where the fuck am I going to find hand-stampers?
Kingsley, are you sure you should be taking this on with your finals?
Oh, where's my wooden board?
I like it on a wooden board. It tastes better on a wooden board.
[SHE MUTTERS IN ITALIAN]
What is with all the muttering?
I don't know, but she just put my panini in the bin.
Oh, shit, she's coming back.
Well...
There's the famous Latin temperament.
I mean, I don't know what I expected?
If you dip your dick into Mount Etna, you're going to get burnt.
Er, good luck with organising your marquee for your orgy.
Oh, erm, I was thinking, 60 quid a ticket? Is that right?
Cos, like, 60 times 1,000...
I mean, I should be able to set up some sort of pop-up
charcuterie store with 60,000 quid. Right?
Right.
I mean, forget about the books, how about I give you a hand?
I know a field and it's fallow as fuck.
Just a few details before we can proceed with your emergency hardship application.
Please. Take your time.
It's just nice to be warm.
Can I ask what your, er, living status is, Jonathan?
Landlord.
You're a homeowner?
I am asset-rich but cash-poor.
Which, I don't know whether you know, Janet,
is just an absolute fucker.
Can I ask what your household income is? In terms of your parents?
Respectfully, I'd prefer not to disclose that as I feel it
may negatively influence the outcome of my application.
Just so you're aware, based on what you've told me, I think
it's highly unlikely...
Why?! Because of my bearing?
Let me tell you a little story.
Christopher Biggins.
Privately-educated, very popular entertainer... Bankrupt!
It happens.
And at this point, with regret, it has become necessary for me
to ask for assistance from the state.
We have limited resources
and with the recent cuts we have to focus our funding.
Oregon.
Fucking Oregon.
Don't freak. I repeat.
Do not freak. Blink if you understand.
Apparently there's a petition going round.
They've got 100 signatures.
They've triggered a vote of no confidence. I am so sorry, Oregon.
They're moving to impeach.
[CAMERA FLASH]
Impeachment!
They're trying to overthrow me!
Midway through planting a crabapple tree and they drop this shit on me.
100 names.
The Traitor Menu.
I mean, I'm not putting them on a watch list, but...
Mmm, your girlfriend signed this.
What can I tell you? La Donna.
She's her own animal.
God, I wish she'd just fuck off back to Switzerland.
Erm, Italy.
Why would she fuck off back to Italy?
Because she's from Italy.
She might fuck off via Switzerland.
- She's not Italian. - She's totally Italian.
No! She speaks Italian because she's from one of the Italian cantons
in Switzerland.
Italian cantons of Switzerland? You just made that up!
You know, Switzerland. Chocolate. Cuckoo clocks. Dignitas.
Nom-nom-nom-nom. Cuckoo!
Switzerland? Famously stayed out of World War II?
Ironic considering the politics of your Nazi, fucking wife.
Swiss...
Hmm, Switzerland?
[ECHOING]: 'My Swiss girlfriend, Swiss girlfriend, Swiss girlfriend,
'Swiss girlfriend...'
So, what's your next move?
Well, I've got until the vote at 8pm tomorrow to balance the budget
and get the books straight,
meanwhile I'm tit-high in Tony's fucking turbot.
[PHONE RINGS]
Hello, Night-Line. My name's Natasha,
'how can I help you?'
Hello, Natasha.
'How are you doing tonight?'
Not great.
Whatever it is, I'm sure I can help.
I'm closing Night-Line.
Who is this?
This is Oregon Shawcross. Your President.
I have just have been on a bus
to the supermarket,
where I bought some bones.
I'm about to boil some pasta in a minute.
If you want you can have my water.
Now I know what reality feels like.
Scratchy and harsh.
You're being pathetic.
Yes, I am being pathetic, Josie, defiantly pathetic.
I can't do this by myself.
I need help.
Somebody help me.
Well, I have finally e-mailed my CV to Ordnance Survey HQ.
Interests and hobbies include - reading, walking and street magic.
- Street magic? - You put down street magic?
Why did you put street magic?
Because I asked JP, and he said put something cool down like street magic.
I said, put down something cool LIKE street magic.
I didn't say, put fucking street magic.
Oh, hot, horny hell have I made an error?
They're going to have this stack of boring CVs and then the resume
of David fucking Blaine. What do you think their first question will be?
- Can you levitate? - Will you smash my watch?
- Can you teleport? - Can you turn invisible?
Can you burn a £50 note, and then you cough and it's in your mouth?
Do you honestly think they'll expect me to levitate?
They'll expect something in the levitation ballpark, yeah.
I'm on a hiding to nothing on this one because I'm one of the most land-borne people I know.
Right? Can somebody spot me some croutons for my bone soup?
PROTESTERS: Where's our bus! Where's our bus!
Where's our bus! Shawcross out!
[SHOUTING CONTINUES]
Whack the head! It's filled with Haribo!
Hey, I got a good one! Orry-Orry-Ore-gone!
PROTESTERS: Out-out-out!
Orry-Orry-Ore-gone...
Josie, what are you doing?
Er... This...
this is just a harmless bit of satirical fun.
Is that an effigy?
- Are they going to burn me? - No.
No! Erm, not until they've got all the sweets out of your big head.
Josie. This is horrible!
Come on. It's just a bit of, you know, knock-about fun.
Punch and Judy politics. Don't take it so personally.
They're going to set fire to ME.
Oregon. I don't want politics to come between our friendship, OK?
But, y'know, closing down Night-Line...
It got six calls a week!
[CROWD CHEER]
Oh, whoa! God! That really went up!
S'awful.
Burn the witch! Burn the witch!
So flammable.
[CROWD CHANT]: Burn the witch!
That is a killer field. Beautifully fucking irrigated.
- We should check the acoustics. - Mmm.
One-two. Two-two. One-two. Two!
- I'm none the wiser. - Mmm.
Sorry can you put those fucking sunglasses on, or take them off?
[PHONE RINGS]
God. Mum again.
Bandit had a seizure.
Who the fuck's Bandit?
The epilepsy dog.
Epilepsy dog had a seizure!
Epilepsy dog has epilepsy?!
Well, does he though?
Or is it all just part of the mind-war?
"Uni's coming to an end." "Oh, big coincidence, Bandit's had a wobbler!"
She probably locked him in the cupboard under the stairs
with a strobe until he wigged out.
Oh, yeah, she wants you back. What a bitch(!)
There's no way I'm moving back with her.
I'd rather move to the Yemen and work in a salt-mine.
Nah, I'll just stay in Manchester.
Move in with Rosa, probably.
Very homely.
What do you think about her though? Really?
I tell you what I think about your Swiss girlfriend, Kingsley. Neutral.
I feel neutral. Not one side or the other.
- She's just been on my back lately. - Hmm.
Weighing you down, like one of them
really big Toblerones you get from Duty Free.
I mean it can't be the case that I like her less because she's Swiss.
But also, it is the case.
I mean you saw her, flying off the handle like that.
There's no need for it.
If she's not Italian that just means she's just really fucking snippy.
Oregon.
I've come to claim £20,000 for the greatest poem in the world!
[CLEARS HIS THROAT]
There was a young legend from Stow,
Who snorted a kilo of blow.
JP, that's a limerick, you're not going to win with a limerick.
- There was a young lady from St Mary's Ca... - Again - limerick.
There was a young geezer...
If it begins, "There was a young..." it's a fucking limerick, JP!
- I brought you some sweets. - Oh, good(!)
They managed to get all the sweets out of my big flammable
fucking Pinata head before it exploded into flames?
No. They didn't actually.
We had some packets left over.
So,
the dreaded vote of no confidence.
If only there were some way you could rise above your problems.
Howard, what are you doing?
I'm levitating.
Like some kind of highly-employable Christ figure.
Well, I want names, Josie. I am going to highlight those involved.
It is not Orwellian, it is just being very bloody organised...
"Jezebel James?"
That's you, isn't it?
You signed this?
I'm desperate. OK, Oregon.
I need friends for next year and Bad Soc's all I've got.
Yeah, well, you know what? Fuck Bad Soc.
- No way? - Yes way.
Funding has been cut.
I am 'Breaking Bad Soc'.
You evil fucking despot.
Sorry, Josie. Death to Sadminton.
Do you think he looks menacing enough?
Quite sad eyes.
He's big, he's bald, he's bearded. Tick, tick, tick. Yes, please.
Maybe I should ask him to manhandle me.
You know, try before you buy.
Plus, we do a lot of security on match days.
Sweet!
Ooh, do you want, er, Mole to manhandle you now, Kingo?
Oh, yeah, she's... she's joking. There's not...
not much man to manhandle, methinks!
What's the, er, damage, you know, bunce-wise?
1,500 for the night
or nothing and we do the sundries -
coke, weed, pills.
Interesting. Don't think we've found a supplier yet for our sundries,
- have we, Kingo? - Yeah. So sorry, Mole.
Um... just, yeah, quick conflab with my associate. Um, yeah.
What the fuck? He's a dealer!
He's a short bald man from Liverpool in a bomber jacket.
I mean, I'm no Poirot...
Mole - he sounds all nice. He sounds all Toad of Toad Hall.
He's a drugs mole.
There are going to be drugs at the Grad Ball, hmm?
So, we either go to the open market
or we go with a local supplier who provides a quality,
freshly-sourced product.
Don't make him sound like he's some fucking artisan baker!
He's a drug dealer, he's dangerous.
All right. Don't stack your briefs! We'll find someone else.
OK, so what now? What's the etiquette with these people?
Do they have an etiquette or do we just turn around and walk away really fucking briskly?
Yeah, that's what we do.
- How are you holding up? - Yeah, yeah, really good.
Um, I'm looking forward to my vote of confidence.
I thought it was a vote of no confidence.
Yeah, well, that all depends on if you're a negative person
or you're more in the mould
of a Dorothy Parker meets Ellen MacArthur.
Straw poll - if you were interviewing me for a job,
would you be impressed if I, very safely,
launched a small firework from about my beard?
Two, four, six... no hands! Great feedback, thanks.
Oregon, can you just lift your chin up?
I'm doing a cheeky little lampoon for the protest movement.
You're lampooning me?
Yeah. The Blaster got in touch out of the blue.
I've been commissioned. I'm getting paid. Screw you, Tomothy!
All aboard the satirical cartoon gravy train!
Next stop - Money Town!
Why have I got whisker... Am I shitting?
You're a fat cat trying to escape on a hot-air balloon marked
"Corruption" and you're taking a big steaming shit
onto all of the students down below you.
But now, this sword with "Impeachment" written on it
is about to cut off your head.
It is a pretty good likeness,
considering it's a cat taking a shit.
Well, it's irrelevant because I've balanced the budget.
Nightline, fell-walking - cut, cut, cut!
Plus, I've told them that I've got an appointment for a yeast infection,
so they pushed the vote back by two hours.
Oh, no! The England game's tonight. Uh-oh! There goes the sports vote.
Same old Oregon, same old shit!
No! Actually, JP, new Oregon cos it's a new day,
new outlook, new policies, new haircut,
new ideas, new energy, new haircut.
I am going to move on and I'm changing everything -
new direction, new haircut.
You keep saying new haircut.
New haircut for a new president,
for a new outlook on a new haircut to inspire new confidence.
Vod, I need you to give me a new... haircut.
Mm.
So, I was thinking...
All right, I could do that.
OK.
So what I've done is, I've gone too short on this side.
So I can either go short on the other side
or you can have slightly wonky hair.
Um...
All right.
OK.
So what's happened here is, I've gone even shorter on this side,
but I'll just level it up.
OK.
Just to fill you in, basically, I've done the same thing again.
Yeah, I think I should just abandon hair at this point.
No president's ever been impeached. Do you know that?
Apart from Muttock, but he wasn't impeached,
he just went straight to prison for killing someone in a road accident.
I don't know how I ended here, Vod.
Maybe Idi Amin started by setting up a boutique literary award
and then a few things go sideways
and boom! You're the tyrant queen that killed Night-Line.
Is that going to be my legacy?
Oregon, this isn't over.
You walk in there and you let your natural charm speak for itself!
What natural charm?
You know. Don't pretend you don't know. I know you know.
You so know!
I guess I could try and switch it on.
Come on. Let's even this up.
OK.
OK. What's happened here is...
All I'm saying is, it's good that Vod is helping you with the party.
This way, you can focus on your study.
Well, that certainly seems to be a very safe way of looking at things,
Rosa. Very safe, very neutral.
You need to focus on your finals.
A daily reminder of my finals - regular as the 9.30 from Zurich.
There you go.
Move out of the way, Mum!
[HE HUMS]
Mmm... ma mia! This looks amazing!
I fucking love chicken nuggets!
Thanks, sweetheart, thanks, darling, thanks, love!
Chicken fucking nuggets! Fucking result!
I am going to fucking smash these chicken fucking nuggets!
Yeah, I might eat this in my room.
So, I have tried and failed to master the dark art of street magic.
And now, boys and girls,
for my next trick, I will make my career prospects disappear!
Abra and indeed cadabra!
- Is that a trick, Howard? - No.
It's just the actions of a man who no longer requires a watch,
be it for appointment or interview.
Sorry, brah.
I'm going to have to call John at Ordnance Survey
and request that my application be officially withdrawn.
Theme of the Grad Ball. The theme is Carnage.
Like...
Chain-saw artists, Wheel of Death,
a woman in iron pants making sparks with an angle grinder.
That sounds horrific.
Kingo, I'll focus on the bigger picture. You sort out the details.
What, you're Florence, I'm just the fucking Machine?
Try to ignore the whirring sound. That's just the Machine doing
- all the fucking work while Florence fucks about in a floaty dress! - Well, that's the deal.
- Unless you want to sort it on your own. - All right. Fine, fine.
All right, compromise.
Cheese and Carnage.
Well, we might as well start.
It looks like this is all we're getting.
Our motion is clear.
Oregon, throughout your tenure, we believe you've shown
a lack of leadership, a lack of judgment,
a lack of character. Actually, you have a weak character, Oregon.
And I think I speak on behalf of a majority of the student body
when I say, with regret, we have no confidence in you.
[APPLAUSE]
Firstly, I would like to thank everybody for coming out
tonight and missing the crucial Moldova qualifier.
It gives me the perfect opportunity to announce that we, I,
have finally balanced the budget.
We, I, have had a lot of tough decisions to make and we, I,
have always had the best interests of the student body at heart.
What about the turbot?
We know about the receipts.
What receipts?
Er... OK. If I could deal specifically with the turbot...
Let's get straight into this, shall we? Votes against impeachment.
- Is that us? - Yeah.
Oi, Dynamo! Levitate yourself out of that fucking seat right now!
OK. Votes for impeachment.
Wait!
Er, if I could, before they sit down again, everybody,
I have something I need to tell you.
Oh, God!
♪ Let them bring on all their problems
♪ I'll do better than my best
♪ I have confidence you'll put me to the test
♪ But I'll make you see I have confidence in me! ♪
- Come on, everybody! Join in! - You're on your own, mate.
♪ I have confidence in sunshine
♪ I have confidence in rain
♪ I have confidence that spring will come again
♪ So I'll make you see I have confidence in meee! ♪
[SHE LAUGHS]
[MICROPHONE BUZZES]
[OREGON LAUGHS]
♪ The higher you build your barriers... ♪
I thought we were going to have
to helicopter her out of the Quad like Ceausescu.
It was when she started singing Man In The Mirror that I knew she was in trouble.
Found these under the mat.
Oh? Oh, you are joking me!
I'm just drowning in red ink!
Um, I'm just off the phone to John at Ordnance Survey
and I came clean about my CV.
I told him it was just a sexed-up dossier of mistruths
printed on a tissue of lies, and he said he admired my honesty.
And so, if I get a First, the job's mine.
Holy shit, bro! Wax up the Oyster card
and buy some pepper spray! You're moving to London!
Mole? Um... you've got a deal.
Yeah, you can do security. Yeah, and drugs.
'Yeah, he'd be cool with that. Yeah.'
It was me, by the way.
I gave the Blaster your number and told them you were good at cartoons.
Oh, thanks.
I've been thinking about our little trade agreement.
Maybe I could impose a sort of import ban.
You know, not import from any non-Josie territories,
withdraw from the EU.
JP, I think that maybe we shouldn't.
We need to stop.
It's over.
Yeah, good. No, I mean... cos that was my other idea, so...
Oh, and, er, the Blaster said sorry but, um...
...this is all they could give you.
MUSIC: Free Money by Patti Smith
[HE SIGHS]
Tomothy, it's me. I'll do it. I'll take the job.
Just please, please, please turn the pipe back on.
♪ Every night before I rest my head
♪ See those dollar bills go swirling round my bed
♪ I know they're stolen But I don't feel bad
♪ I take that money Buy you things you never had. ♪
Subtitle by peritta