(Horns honking, people laughing, music blaring)
Sorry, love. It's chaos out there.
Some kid got a Magnum all down my shorts.
-Milky tea. No sugar. -Thanks.
Did I lock the front door? Or did you?
-You. -I can't find the key.
-You gave it to me. -No, I didn't.
You did.
(Girl moaning)
Like a Polo?
(Pounding)
Stop it! I've had enough! Stop it!
-No! -You're putting everybody down.
All right, sugar? You look a bit lost.
Where you heading?
Blackpool.
We'll give you a lift. Won't we, girls?
(Cheering, music blaring from radio)
YOUNG MAN: Dad?
-What? -I'm ready.
Great. Now, get that money and don't fuck about.
No chilling with your mates, no eyeing up the talent and no rolling up a sly one.
Sorted. Sorted. I've got it sussed.
Yeah. And don't forget that grand off the coon.
He's having difficulties, Dad.
-He says his cat's got cancer. -Good. I hope it dies.
Oi!
Take the car and get that cash.
And Liam...
stay away from Mercy.
(Horn honking)
(People shrieking)
Did I do well?
You did brilliant.
(Girls laughing)
GIRL IN CAR: Go on, then!
What's the matter, gaylord? Scared of a bit of minge?
Heaven, ladies and gentlemen.
The Eden that was once ours.
Hell.
The sewer that we swim in today.
(Stammering) Wh-What about the sewer of civic c-corruption, eh?
The b-b-backhanders,
the-the-the palm-greasing,
the g-gerrymandering.
What about Bridewell?
Listen to him, ladies and gentlemen.
The weasel words of the do-good brigade.
Piss off, Ken!
(Crowd laughing)
I'm a Sandgrownun, born and bred.
And I call a spade a spade. And I know what you care about.
I'm talking about filth. Lapdancers.
junkies.
Drunks drenching our streets with urine.
Animals like him!
This town is a zoo!
And I'm here to shovel the shit from the cages.
Get uniformed.
I want this thrown back on the M55.
(Crowd cheering)
(Car honking)
I want him run out of town...
(Panting)
PC 727. Are you clear to go to South Shore?
Disturbance involving the Mayor and a young male nudist.
-PC 727. Are you receiving? -I'll have to take it.
-Is there a problem? -Oh, oh. Let me finish you off.
You can't go out there with a big full truncheon like that.
This is 727 receiving.
Will report to South Shore immediately.
Can do. Will do.
Look, I'll have to go.
Oh, why?
I'm on duty.
I'll see you tonight, then. Pick me up in t'Batmobile.
Oh.
MAN: Ruby!
Ruby!
-This club won't run itself. -Hiya!
Where's Connie?
-Don't know. Not seen her. -What are you doing out here?
Been with my boyfriend. My new boyfriend. Oh, Dad, he's gorgeous...
You're supposed to be in the office.
God, I have to do everything round here. I don't even get time to breathe.
-Oh, is that right? -Yeah.
-Is that right? -Don't. Get off, will you?
Go on. Get in there, you lazy little cow.
It's not fair, you know. Liam don't lift a finger round here.
Hey, Liam's just fine. He's working for me now.
(Rock 'n' Roll Star by Oasis playing on car stereo)
BOY 1 : Hey, look at this. BOY 2: I know!
(Red Red Wine by UBq0 playing in store)
All right, doll?
No excuses. No fairytales. Lets get busy with the fizzy. It's coupon day.
Idi!
(Cat meowing)
IDI: He is a fighter, this one.
Up to his tail in chemo and still he wrestles.
Look, just give me the fucking money. I'm on notice here.
What's the matter with you? Still in thrall to that man.
I thought you were going to be something. Big star. Mad for it.
I am. I've got things cooking.
Do you know who I had in the shop last week?
Inspiral Carpets.
The whole damn band. Tom Hingley, Clint Boon.
Graham Lambert is not well. He has bad guts.
They are looking for a guitarist.
(Mr Sandman by The Chordettes playing)
WOMAN 1 : Are you all right, love? WOMAN 2: We've found you some pants.
(Chainsaw buzzing)
(Doorbell ringing)
(Woman screaming)
All right. How are we?
-We're the Suttons, Dudley and Lola. -Of course.
-We've been expecting you. The newlyweds. -No.
-We've been married for three years. -Still got a glint in your eye.
-How was the journey from Ripon? -Stoke.
Stoke. Beautiful place.
The room's ready. I've washed the sheets. We're all very excited.
The American Bar. Cocktails, crudites, wide-screen TV.
The Empress Room. Petit djjeuner.
In-house entertainment.
Poker game tonight, if you fancy a punt.
Seaview Suite.
Super king-size. Lots of support.
Need any help, give me a shout.
Jesus, Dudley.
-It's horrible. -Well, it looked better in the brochure.
Well, we're not here for the decor. We're here to have a good time.
Get the juices flowing. Do it.
Look, this weekend, right? Anything goes.
I'll do whatever you want. Your wildest fantasy. You just have to tell me.
Just give me a hint.
I'll try.
(Floorboards creaking)
I'll just have a wee.
Just advising you about this door. Anyone can come in if you're not forewarned.
That bath's got jets.
Let's go out.
Yes, well, of course. I mean, that's family entertainment, isn't it?
Last year we had the Joe Longthorne Summer Spectacular.
Nine weeks of solid gold.
He's from gypsy stock, of course, but he sings beautifully.
What-what-what do you want?
To-to hold you to account. I know what's g-going on.
I know about you and M-Mercy.
-Just excuse me for a moment? -Yeah.
Th-there's something rotten in this town and you are part of it.
Now listen to me. You need to be very careful, young man.
Unsubstantiated allegations can be ruinous.
I'll s-substantiate, all right. Don't you worry. I'll substantiate.
I got a call, sir. I've heard there's been some trouble.
Lewd behaviour on the front.
Well, you took your time. I'm glad I wasn't in mortal peril.
-Now, as you see, he's gone this way... -KEN: Hey!
I'll-I'll sort you, V-Van Kneck.
I'll n...n...nail you!
That one.
Or that one.
No. Oh, I can't do it. Doreen, you pick.
-You sure these aren't trick cards? -Your cards, ladies.
I'm just a quick pair of hands.
Oh, ain't he got lovely eyes? Bedroom eyes, we used to call them.
You want to watch her.
(That's Amore by Dean Martin playing in store)
That one.
(Man whistling)
That's another fiver. He's cleaned me out.
-Well, you'll have to dip in t'till. -No, no, no. You're all right.
-I just need information. -Oh, well, you're in t'right place.
She knows everything.
Illnesses, affairs, who all the gays are.
I'm looking for someone.
A friend.
Ambrose Chapel.
What?
(Spinning Around by Kylie Minogue playing on Tannoy)
♪ 'Cuz the truth's given me
♪ A new freedom inside Getting rid of my desire
♪ Do you like what you see
♪ I'm spinning around Move out of my way
♪ I know you're feeling me 'Cause you like it like this ♪
(Footsteps thudding)
Fucking little fuck of a fucking shit two bit fucking rag!
Have you seen this?
-You look gorgeous. -Don't sweet-talk me.
Look, calm down. It means nothing.
It's not your fanny spread over the centre pages with every crease, spot and stray hair on view.
I'll find out who did it, love. I'll crucify 'em.
You know who did it. I've been humiliated, and you don't fucking care!
-Of course I care! -Then what are you going to do about it?
-I told you. I'll sort it out. -Yadda, yadda, yadda. I've heard it all before.
What do you think? He's called Chris. He's taking me to St Anne's for a Thai.
Not tonight he's not. We need you.
-It's me night off. -I told you. We're too busy.
Your dad's playing poker and I'll be in the VIP lounge.
-We got Emmerdale coming. -Dad, tell her.
Well, get the lad down here, introduce him to the Dingles.
But I think he's going to propose.
-Fifth one this year. -No, he is. He's bought me a ring.
I found a receipt. I were looking through his pockets.
Well, that's all very touching but you're not having the night off.
-Your mum needs you here. -Me mum's dead.
Old news, love.
All right.
-What the fuck's that? -It's Idi's. He's skint.
He's given me this as collateral.
I don't want it.
-What I wanted was a grand. -Relax. Chill.
He'll have the dollars next week.
Oh, Jesus, Shirley!
I've just had this dry-cleaned.
You've killed it!
-What am I going to tell Idi now? -To pay up, you thick fucking prick!
Now, get back and get that money!
No.
-You what? -I'm not going.
I'm striking out on me own.
I'm going to manage a band.
(Sniggering) Manage a band.
I mean it. I've got talent.
I'm gonna take this to the top.
Oh, yeah? And who's going to back you?
Mercy.
(Animal howling)
(Hen clucking)
-We're closing. The gallery will reopen at 1 0:1 5. -Sign says ''Open''.
Very impressive. Looks like it's breathing.
-Thank you. Now, if you don't mind... -I'm a collector myself.
Nothing like this, though. It's like the fucking Uffizi in here.
And it's all my own work. I have won awards.
-Now, really, you must go. -I'm looking for someone.
Ambrose Chapel.
I am innocent of those charges. When will you people please leave me alone?
A simple taxidermist trying to practise his craft.
-You're Ambrose. -Yes, I am known.
Who are you? What do you want?
-I'm from London. -London?
I haven't been to London for years.
I am still remembered?
Yeah.
It was only that one time.
-It is getting late. I have to close up. -What's the rush?
I'm terribly busy. My creation, I have to finish the exhibit.
-I want to talk to you. -Oh, I don't know.
How about a drink?
Maybe later.
-Where are you staying? -Nowhere. Hotels full. Can't get a room.
-You look tired. -Yeah, I am.
I haven't slept a wink. I had a really bad night.
Perhaps you should rest. I have a room downstairs.
We could...talk later.
(Music slows and dies away)
You're playing right into Mercy's hands.
You think I'm that stupid?
There are rules. They've been broken.
-It's my life, Dad. -''It's my life, Dad.''
Get in the car!
(Mobile ringing)
CONNIE: Shirley.
Watch yourself.
Oh, result! He's coming.
-Who? -My boyfriend. Oh, he's gorgeous.
-He's hung like a shire horse. -You'd better get on that door.
-Do I look fat in this? -No, love.
You're fine.
Oh. Oh!
(Lancashire accent) I'm having a reet good time.
I am. I'm going to have a big trough of fish and chips,
washed down with black pudding.
-Do you not fancy a lovely bit of black pudding? -No, I don't.
How about some rock, hmm?
Come on, let's get in there. Get some pick 'n' mix.
-Or ice cream. -Posh ice cream, with bits in.
(Both giggling)
Lola.
(Gasping)
Dudley.
See anything you like?
Not really.
I'm...I'm gonna pay for this.
Is that all you want?
Anything you want, you can have it.
I'm fine with these.
Three for a pound.
I...I live alone. Quite alone.
You may rest here.
I must finish my exhibit.
Excuse me.
(Footsteps fading up stairs)
(Cheering and singing)
Lively, isn't it?
-Shall we go up the Tower? -Oh, are you not tired?
-I'm fine. -Must be the sea air. I'm just about ready for bed.
Let's...let's go back.
Come on.
Hold me hand.
(Toxic by Britney Spears playing)
Mr Woolf.
-They dealing you in tonight? -What's it to you?
-I like to watch. Remember? -Where's Mercy?
Mr Shirley, you're very, very welcome.
-You want nice table by bar? -No, I don't want a table!
-I want to see Mercy. -I've not seen Mercy for some days.
You want free drink? You want Vienna do dance for you?
One to one, on house. She very, very dirty girl.
SHIRLEY: Oi, Oddbod!
-Where's Mercy? -I'm right here.
Danger.
Blackpool.
Ambrose Chapel.
Take it to the beach. Throw it in the sea.
(Chainsaw whirring)
Don't let them have it.
MAN: You can't hide from us.
MAN: She pissed her pants when we did her.
Forgive me. It has been a long time.
I'm a little out of practice.
You have beautiful bones.
I know about bones.
I like bones.
I'm sorry, I have only done this once.
You know him, of course.
He was a big man. A builder.
A Gooner.
-A Gooner? -Yeah, he supported the Arsenal.
(Cracking)
(Gasping)
You prefer the Spurs?
You're hurting me. This is not what I like.
-If Bruno told you... -Who's Bruno?
A fucking bear? I've never heard of him.
-Oh, but you said... -That's not why I'm here.
Then who are you?
(Ambrose shrieking in pain)
Think back.
-I don't know. Bruno, I thought he sent you... -Franny.
-Fanny? -Franny!
Francis Krantz. My mother.
I don't know her. I never touched her.
Last night, she gave me your name.
-A moment later, she was dead. -No!
-Her face had been caved in. -No!
Ambrose Chapel.
-No, no. Chapfel. -Chapel.
No, look. Chapfel! Chapfel! My name is Ambrose Chapfel!
Ah!
I never heard of this woman.
I'm just an innocent taxidermist.
You have the wrong man.
-Take a seat, Shirley. -I'll stand.
So...what's the problem?
My son needs money, I'm the one that gives it to him.
-Now look, Dad... -Shut up.
-No, Nan... -You shut the fuck up!
The boy's got talent, you can't deny it.
just like his poor dead mother.
-I'm just trying to help. -Like before? Like Manchester?
Three months off his head. Every shark in Rusholme taking a bite. He don't need your help.
Why don't you go and get yourself a Tizer?
Wait in the car.
(Door closes)
What are you playing at?
I'm disappointed, Shirley.
You're disappointed?
Your brother's.
Yours.
Your wife's handwriting.
Not even a kiss.
-Payback. -How's the therapy? Any progress?
Oh, we're not going, and I wonder why.
-I did you a favour. You're not the Relate type. -I love my wife.
And all those little pretties out there.
Oh...
what a waste.
Mug's game.
You know she's been a naughty girl. Going behind your back.
She's got a buyer for the club.
-Forget it. -She were in Todmorden Tuesday. Agreed a price.
She wants you out of Blackpool.
She wants you...all to herself.
We had an agreement and you went back on it.
I'm your mother.
-I want your attention, Shirley. -Leave it.
You made promises.
Once it was Sunday lunch every week, a carvery or a fish restaurant.
Then it were monthly. A round of mini-golf or a run up to Bispham.
Now it's the Trafford Centre, Bank Holiday Monday.
(Scoffing) That's if I'm lucky.
-I've been busy. -Oh, yes? Doing what?
Licking that bitch's cunt out?
You think you're a big man. You're not.
This is who you are.
Ten years old.
Shitting yourself.
Make amends.
That's all you're getting from me.
Don't be so sure.
Yeah. Oh, does that feel good?
Mmm.
Yeah? You like that, don't you?
Yes...baby.
Yeah, that's right, baby.
You like that, don't you, doll?
Baby.
Oh, yeah.
-Oh, ride it. Oh, sorry, love. Sorry. -I'm fine.
Carry on.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, you like it. You like it hard, baby.
Oh, yeah.
-You getting there? -Softer.
Okay.
That's it.
Oh! Oh, that's better.
LOLA: That's good.
Don't stop.
Oh...yes!
Oh, yeah.
Oh, baby, I love it.
No, no, no. Slower.
What are you doing? No, stop it.
What are you doing?
You said you liked it like that.
(Lola sighs)
What are you doing? Where are you going?
Get out of my way.
-You can stay if you like. -I don't think so.
What will you do when you find this other Ambrose?
The...the one you want?
Kill him.
(Unbelievable by EMF playing)
Going so soon? Stay. Have a drink.
I'm not interested.
What's the matter?
You don't look too happy.
I could pop round. Pay you a visit.
Just like I used to.
I don't do that anymore.
Don't you?
-Have you got it? -Mercy find out, she fucking do me in.
You've done well, Bryan.
You say that, but I could be in big trouble.
It'll be taken care of.
Trust me.
(Mobile ringing)
-Leave a message after the tone. -It's me.
Ring us, will you? I'm worried.
Now, Dad. I've been doing some thinking.
I've got it sussed. It's all sorted.
The band, it can wait.
I'll go to Idi's. I'll get that grand.
No. We'll do it together,
and I'll show you how to collect a debt.
It's hopeless.
I can't do it. I don't know how.
I can't fulfil your needs.
That's not true.
You're just...tired.
We'll try again in the morning.
Yeah.
Where are you going?
I need some ice cream.
Helping yourself?
(Coins rattling)
I haven't got anything on me.
That's all right, son. Have that one on the house.
Thanks.
How's that bucket working for you?
-What? -The bucket.
When it gets full, just slosh it down the sink.
Right. I'd better get back.
What's the rush?
Never be afraid to keep a lady waiting.
Spend a bit of time with the lads.
Fancy a flutter? Poker. f5 sit-down. You can put it on the tab.
Well, it's just my wife.
He wants to ask the wife.
Never do that, son. I'd still be married if I'd have done that.
Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen.
(Squealing like a pig)
Listen to Vaughn.
Are you a man or are you a mouse?
Ask the monkey.
(Whistling)
(Crashing)
(Thudding)
The bet's a pound.
You haven't even looked at your cards.
Don't worry about that, son.
What's the matter, lad? Can't you make up your mind?
(Car horn blaring, tyres screeching)
(Man laughing)
That comes to around...
three grand.
I haven't got it.
House rules, I'm afraid. You got to pay up tonight.
-Isn't that right, Bradley? -Well, that's how we do it up here.
(Vaughn squealing)
I've been out of work for three months. We spent the last of it coming here.
-You're in a pickle, son. -A right pickle.
I'll send you a cheque.
(Squealing)
Vaughn lost last week, didn't have the cash, still paid up.
That was his forfeit.
What...what do you want?
Well, son. I tell you what I'll do.
I'll wipe the debt.
You can stay on for a few days. Gratis.
All we want is the use of your wife.
Miscellaneous services and the like.
-Bit of photography. -Can she dance?
(Thunder crashing)
-Dudley? -We've got to get out of here.
-You're not going anywhere, son. -What's going on?
I've lost a bit of money. It's fine. It's all under control.
I haven't got any clothes on.
There's a tab to be cleared, son. You know what we want.
You're a bunch of cheats. I don't want anything to do with this.
(Doorbell ringing)
-Who's this? -We're just leaving.
There's a little problem. Kid owes a bundle. Won't pay.
-Oh, really? -Three grand.
-Three grand? -We've come to an arrangement.
-Dudley? -I've agreed to nothing.
Whoa, whoa!
Not going, are you?
-Got their address? -Oh, yeah. I've got all the particulars.
(Thunder crashing)
On your way, then.
I could always pop round sometime, yeah?
Pay you a visit.
Dad, we got a problem.
(Groaning)
(Muffled protests)