Anyone watching, thinking we know fuck all
about knowing fuck all about owt, needs
to watch their backs-- ow!
So you've had your Labour reclassifying scum sending
prices sky-high, literally.
Literally taking the grass from its own roots.
Now you've got your Con-Dem-Nation.
Liberals noshing Tories like altar boys picking dim sum.
Have we had a national fucking stroke, or what?
Is revolution a word?
Or was it never?
Anybody watching needs to know we cope better than average
with irony in Chatsworth.
Well for fuck's sake, we live in Manchester.
And they charge us for water.
I wandered lonely as a clown, necking mushrooms rarely found.
Green and pleasant land, and ancients are--
Fucking [inaudible].
[dog wailing]
--yak yak yak yak yak yak!
It's not theirs anymore.
This is our England now!
[applause]
Party!
CARL GALLAGHER (VOICEOVER): Unless you're
getting nicked, married, or sectioned,
nobody can tell you what to do.
I've got three weddings this month.
All mates stepping-up, looking tall, being in charge.
Fiona was 16 when she took over this family.
Debbie was about 11 but--
11 or 12.
Lip never did.
But only because he was born knowing
about that kind of stuff.
I'm 21, and never been asked.
Is he sulking?
Is he fuck?
Who my age gives this up for that?
Being a best man is as in-charge as I wanna be.
[tape rewinding sound]
Micky this, Micky that.
Micky who?
Micky Foodchain Ringpiece, that's who.
Now I've got nasal sprays, throat sprays,
skin like grandma's, and I--
I'm wheezing like someone who's got a note for games.
Don't get me started the day--
exactly the day when they fitted that new boy on.
Sunday I burnt a cake and broke a nail.
Two things in one day?
Just turn it off.
It's freezing.
It's summer!
It's east Manchester!
It can't be fucking hay fever.
Who's fucking arguing?
And stop swearing back.
Ask her why she won't change the boiler.
Nobody else is whinging, 'cause there's nothing
wrong with the boiler.
'Cause the boiler does exactly what a boiler is meant to do.
Just like the last one did.
Until the gas chap tweaked we piped into next door's
and condemned us with it.
How weird, Are they prosecuting?
Nah.
Only turns out his wife's one of me
best clients 'cause she's a total fuck-up.
Mom!
Micky!
It's me, or the boiler.
[old western music]
Just give us a shout you need anything, Cynth.
Back to nearly normal. Yes.
Two secs.
Right on cue misses.
Who the fuck says happy wedding, you knob?
All right.
So the next time there's a funeral,
we just stick up "dead" do we?
[snickering]
Get these finished, then sort your kid out.
Micky, full moon. - What?
What?
Talking about moving to Sydney for good.
Upstairs.
[exhales]
[MUSIC -TRACY CHAPMAN, "A HUNDRED YEARS"]
TRACY CHAPMAN (RADIO): (SINGING) These few days
feel like a hundred years.
Guess whose mom's chucked me out?
[guitar music]
[phone dialing]
[smoke alarm]
Shit.
[music playing]
Did you get it out?
Little fuckers.
Is Marty gone?
Yeah.
He was in a bit of a rush, so he asked me to give you this.
Took, um, two pot snacks, two beans, bigguns,
crackers, tea bags, cheapest.
Cheers, Kel.
So why'd you say Sidney?
I didn't.
I let Sitges slip, then flipped it round
to Sidney before Karen twigged.
Bum Boy Barca Sitges.
Cooking in thongs and that?
And how would you know, Jedward?
Don't start.
Right?
Because things got said.
Over a boiler. Are you serious?
Boiler?
What?
You weren't kicked out.
Mum doesn't even know you're gone.
She's just seen you taking bags out for the bins.
Just?
Five hours ago.
And they're not binbags.
They're clothes, see? - Mickey, go home.
You're sorry.
You've calmed down.
Fuck off.
I will literally die.
I'm 26.
You don't flick ears at 26.
Right.
A couple of nights, tops.
For that, you help us cover the bar for this wedding do.
Sound.
Shifted already.
Whatever.
[knocking]
KELLY MAGUIRE: For fuck's sake.
Why didn't you open the door?
Could have been the filth.
For lifting from Chesney's and trying to burn his shop down,
you mean?
They're coming through the window.
From a skip outside the youth club.
You had company?
Not since you were here last.
I just wanted you to know I think it'd be better
if you kept your distance.
You said last time I saw you.
I know, but safer.
It might be safer to--
Because of Shane?
Because of Shane.
In case you got the wrong end of the stick.
You know what happened last time.
Don't want that happening again.
It was all just a misunderstanding.
[inaudible] don't end being the jealous type.
There's nothing to be jealous of.
No.
But if there had have been.
Possessive, I think.
More than jealous.
Is your husband--
Yeah.
Either way.
Best if I kept my distance.
You OK with that?
Have to be.
See you, then.
Yeah.
Look after yourself and stuff.
You too.
Bye.
Save your breath.
That lot will be over there.
You're on the tables with me.
But I still get to wear a special t-shirt?
FRANK GALLAGHER: What are you going on about, Cynthia?
It's a scratch card.
You scratch it.
But it doesn't say where.
Lucky me.
There you go.
What am I dropping now?
Few chromosomes.
Left.
Left foot.
Near the toilet.
Oh.
Bastards.
Send all you winners to trash your pubs, eh?
It's a no, then?
You can't be helped.
Couple of stitches, it'll mend.
Boss wants a word, Frank.
What, who?
The woman's poor, you scrubber.
So?
You know she'd be licking it if I hadn't put the time in.
How in God's name is that not mine?
Go in 50 each.
You know she will.
She'll have it on her conflicts, the pointless old window
licker. Well, crap.
I made a speech.
Me.
You said they were posh.
I said they had money.
Go watch 'em drink.
Fucking OAPs.
[inaudible]
Flying around [inaudible] fucking sort it out.
Bastard [inaudible].
Cynthia!
[MUSIC PLAYING - KOOL AND THE GANG, "CELEBRATION"]
More voddy, less red.
Not gonna get changed?
In my family?
First thing a bride says when she walks into church?
Aisle altar him.
Mum?
Mum!
Wait for Wait for it.
Freeze.
Someone get her a big drink on me.
That's for later.
And someone get her a cardigan.
She must be about 60.
[singing] La la, la.
She'll fucking sleep tonight.
Right, I'll have.
Easy, moneybags.
One of them, one of them, and two of them.
Now here.
Hey, here, here, here.
Listen.
Right.
State your name and how you're pleading.
It's a banker, taxpayer, and a little single parent
on a housing benefit I know, all sitting
around this table with a plate of 12
biscuits split between them.
Banker, straight in, nabbing 11 of them,
straight in the pocket.
All right?
And he turns to the taxpayer, and he says,
what's that, thieving cunt?
Keep an eye on your biscuit, mate.
While them two are swapping email addresses,
he's having their laptops, you know.
Simon's [inaudible].
What the fuck have you been up to?
Oh yeah.
It's me.
I'd fuck off, Frank, before they eat you.
REPORTER (ON TV): North Manchester Police
today confirmed that gun crime levels
were at the lowest since 1998.
Tonight a pensioner was brutally assaulted
in her home in Belvedere Road.
Detectives found traces of new green paint close
to the crime scene, possibly from footwear.
And they urge anyone with information
to call their confidential helpline at 08081 570999.
Cynthia.
Frank.
REPORTER (ON TV): Police have this morning confirmed
that the pensioner violently assaulted
in her home in Belvedere Road is Miss Cynthia Rose Feltz.
Ms. Feltz was found by a neighbor--
MAN (ON TV): We must fight crimes
like this with zero tolerance.
We've done really well to clean up this neighborhood.
REPORTER (ON TV): Ms.Feltz has no next of kin,
and was though to have been carrying a large sum of money.
TRUCK DRIVER: Here you go, Frank.
She has suffered.
Don't forget fat's the new black,
so you'll be laughing me bubs.
I'll walk from here.
I've got a medical this afternoon.
So it'll help if I look fucked.
Fuck off, dickhead.
Full English, if anybody's ready.
Who disappeared after Cynthia went home?
Everybody eventually.
Frank.
You know, and who got refused credit
before he left here lagging?
Jamie, Frank's a lot things, but he's not that.
Yeah?
Well, he tried nicking those scratchcards right before she
knew she'd even won it.
He left there lagging and catching.
Yeah.
And then bounced back later chucking 20s about.
Frank.
It's be a lot of things in a dozen bags
when I find the nance.
Jamie, speak to him.
Don't be giving it that on face, bub, because you know nothing.
And it's Frank's name on the line.
Yeah.
And his head.
Like you've never robbed purses.
Yeah, but not since school.
No, but certain lines you don't cross.
I mean, the poor cow's retarded.
And raspberries is a no-no.
Marty.
Last night, where'd you and Frank meet before The Jockey?
Excuse me?
Last night I went line dancing on my Tod,
being ignored and insulted as per usual.
Someone said they saw you pulling up in a taxi
together, laughing your tits off.
I was waiting for the last boss from line dancing.
Frank rolls up in a taxi.
I'm not quick enough, so he drags this in.
Couldn't understand a word the man said.
And happy to be with him, only until his money ran out
and I had to buy me own drinks.
Then I shot the buffet.
So where did his money come from?
Well, he wouldn't know, never has.
Hence me thinking it's either fighting or gambling
to explain the big spender.
But he didn't have a bruise on him, the gimp.
KAREN MAGUIRE: Male Maguires should be banned
from ever thinking in pairs.
They're lethal.
And you're dafter than them for listening to it.
Kelly--
I saw it with me own. Ask Shane.
I met him after I practically stopped Frank
from nicking a prize card. - So?
Frank [inaudible] nick prams if he didn't hate babies.
Don't make him a granny basher, Karen.
Well, he did leave straight after her.
And he was back later ordering doubles and bubbles.
Is it in there?
The Cynthia thing off the radio?
I think it's in here.
Take a freebie.
Have you ever seen a barrel scraped so low?
Literally can't give them away.
Oh.
35 rent or 50 deposit.
They're keeping the lot because somebody
got fucking green paint on it.
What?
MIMI MAGUIRE: Medics had to resuscitate her
in the ambulance.
All right, Avril.
Mum, the cow's still around there with Lady Gaga,
so I ain't locked up.
I want this on the streets and round your mates.
Mimi Maguire is putting up a grand for the name
of the fucker who did this.
You're serious?
A grand?
You don't even like her.
Organizing to whip round to Cynthia, poor cow.
Door-to-door, the lot.
Because we want everyone chipping in to this.
Not in here, Frank.
We already got one on.
Oh, Carl.
Just five, 10, you know, 'til Thursday-ish.
Oh, come on.
Oh, fuck.
That's me bus fare.
What about fucking medical, which is--
Thought you were just taxis these days, Frank.
Wait. Eh?
KAREN MAGUIRE: Leave it, Butch.
Yes, Kell?
KELLY MAGUIRE: Chili and chips, and a vodka tonic, please.
Bring it over.
Thank you.
Oh.
All right, Frank.
Ayuh
If they think you're out with me, nobody'll touch your car.
I'm safe.
(WHISPERING) Police.
JAMIE MAGUIRE: Sorry, Frank.
Yours is here, mate.
You didn't leave a mobile phone, did you?
Uh, if it's got credit on it, it's probably mine.
You're Cynthia Feltz's employers, is that right?
I gave her a few bub every now and then to keep her busy.
If this is bad-- - Relax.
She proved us all wrong and regained consciousness
an hour or so back.
Has she said who--
She's not talking yet.
But she seems to know where she is.
MICKY MAGUIRE: She didn't before.
Just meant-- well, just that she didn't before.
What's the score, then?
What's all this, people blanking me dad?
They're not very keen on what might've done.
As in--
Cynthia.
Cynthia has nothing to do with you, is she?
Related to that parcel?
Fuck off.
No.
The kick-in.
It's just your name keeps surfacing, Frank,
and it's not just me.
There's all this whispering, and they're picking stuff up.
Fractured skull, broken ribs, fucked up windpipe?
Me?
Said I was sorry before I asked, precisely to avoid
this getting ugly Frank.
I let you down, did I?
CYNTHIA FELTZ (FLASHBACK): Who's girl?
MIMI MAGUIRE: Your dad's name's coming up too many times
to be guesswork, Carl.
From who?
Some you know, some you won't.
But too many want to string him up to ignore.
You're not right in the fucking head, you lot.
Watch your mouth, Gallagher.
How long have you known him?
When has he ever laid into around here?
Discounting his kids?
What, you never twatted your own?
And if that's a no, do shit-thick wankers
run in your family?
Who the fuck--
Oh, fucking hell.
Fucking better run, Gallagher!
What are you saying about my dad?
Karen Maguire asked me questions
I gave honest answers to.
Pack your bags.
And get the fuck out of his house.
Carl, I've repeated nothing I didn't see with my own eyes.
So where did "coked off his tits" come from?
I can tell gak from gossip.
We were back in the jockey.
Agh.
I'm on Warfarin, you cunt.
Off his tits, Carl.
I swear.
Nobody wants your dad involved in this.
But you need to see what we've been looking at, Carl.
And people don't speak to me like that.
Where?
- Nowhere, actually. - No.
Where are we going? - A poor little side of Ardwick.
Bronson, this is Carl, a good friend of a neighbor.
Carl, Bronson, the colleague every third Sunday.
Just show Carl what I saw earlier, Bronson.
This is Frank dancing outside [inaudible] mile 2.
Now Cinnamon Street.
It's a bit ropier than I'd like, but--
KELLY MAGUIRE: 'Round that corner's where Cynthia lives.
Right?
And 62 minutes later, coming back this way.
KELLY MAGUIRE: Hailing a taxi.
Where'd he get the money?
I didn't make it up, Carl.
These pictures speak for themselves.
Your dad's in deep shit.
DOCTOR: So you're experiencing about two fits a month?
FRANK GALLAGHER: Correct.
DOCTOR: Are you still getting paint
on the right side of your neck?
FRANK GALLAGHER: Yeah.
It's worse, if anything.
DOCTOR: Any falling injuries when you have the fits?
FRANK GALLAGHER: No.
DOCTOR: You're what, six foot?
That's a long way to horizontal without bumps and bruising.
FRANK GALLAGHER: I'm mostly on me ass when they strike.
DOCTOR: So what's this lot?
Eh?
What the fuck?
Well, if you're surprised, I don't know
what the wife's going to think.
When you get dressed, you can go.
[music playing]
CARL GALLAGHER: Hey!
Dad.
If you help us shift a bit of furniture for a mate,
there's a tenner in it for you.
Well, tell him it's 20 or he's had it.
No.
Sack that.
Not in here.
[MUSIC PLAYING - CROWDED HOUSE, "WEATHER WITH YOU"]
You all right?
[MUSIC - CROWDED HOUSE, "WEATHER WITH YOU"]
Walking 'round the room singing stormy weather
at 57 Mount Pleasant Street.
Now, it's the same room--
Smoke if you want.
[MUSIC - CROWDED HOUSE, "WEATHER WITH YOU"]
But everything's different.
You can fight the sleep but not the dream.
Things ain't cooking--
[humming]
I got up and sang a top-notch version of that at Manny
Holden's pre-trial party.
We'd been on mushrooms and his fucking twisted wife
and brood up for us.
She's just-- just twatted, just totally twatted.
I couldn't believe my eyes when they played
that tape at his wake, you know, when
it copped out at Strangeways.
- Dad. - No.
I know.
A, I can't remember a thing about that night
with the mushrooms, Manny, and singing.
Not just, you know, as in normal can't, you know,
like waking up in Fallowfield between that fat
black spotty bird and her mum.
I mean, there, on stage, mic, belting "Fix You"
out, which still scares me shitless because, B,
I couldn't sing it sober if I tried.
I didn't think I was capable.
If it was you, and I have to hear it from anyone else,
that'd be us finished.
- Oh. - You know that, don't you?
And I haven't a fucking clue where I got these.
What are we gonna do with me, Carl?
If they have to come and fetch you, there's a three-year
difference.
Out of how many?
Says five to seven on the web.
Oh, no, sweet Jesus wept.
[shouting] I can't.
I can't do time again, Carl, not at my age.
Nobody leaves you alone.
You know, it's gonna be weird.
They're gonna crucify me.
[sobbing]
In all seriousness, I reckon your ass is fine,
smelling like that.
Oh, fuck my arse.
We've all sold our asses.
But nowadays, it's random drug tests.
So you can't take a piss without literally grassing yourself up.
And what else is there?
Come on, Dad.
Come on.
I'm coming with you.
[music playing]
I'm here to hand myself in.
DETECTIVE: Commencing interview with Vernon Francis Gallagher
on charges of burglary, common theft,
and causing grievous bodily harm to Mrs. Cynthia Feltz.
Attending officers DI Carroll, DC Sheridan,
with Mr. Ashton Strang from Duty Legal Services
representing the defendant.
Slept OK, Frank?
Not three hours.
Hopefully see you through till teatime, though, eh?
And sleep's the great healer.
So how's that voice coming along?
Wrong man or Fifth Amendment, that's all you're getting
'cause it's all I've got.
Forensics rustled a few new words off you, Frank--
scene of crime, DNA, positive match, prisoner 1052,
Gallagher, Vernon Francis.
Get your head down while we proof your press release.
Interview terminated, 13:52.
Oh.
[tires squealing]
JOURNALIST 1: Police today named their prime suspect
in the attack on the Beswick pensioner,
76-year-old Cynthia Feltz--
JOURNALIST 2: --76-year-old Cynthia Feltz at her home
late Thursday night.
Francis Vernon Gallagher--
JOURNALIST 3: Gallagher, from a neighboring Chatsworth estate,
was formally charged with actual bodily harm
and remanded into custody--
JOURNALIST 2: --and remanded into custody after magistrates
denied his application for bail.
[rap music]
Three and four.
Where's Frank? Where is he?
I don't know where he is.
I don't know.
JOURNALIST 1: The officer in charge of the case,
Detective Inspector Clarice Carroll, confirmed--
JOURNALIST 2: --confirmed police are pursuing no further
leads in connection with the crime
at the time of this report. (
(RAPPING) With bullet holes and such,
speak the wrong words, man, and you will get touched.
You can put the whole army against my team.
I guarantee you, it will be your very last time breathing.
Your simple words just don't move me.
You're minor.
We're major.
If you're gonna chain smoke five in a row,
spend a lot more on them.
And I'm booking three health and fitness reviews for 8:00
in the morning.
Back to your desks.
I've just remanded your dad on positive DNA samples.
You know he didn't do it.
I can tell.
If he swears he never set foot in Cynthia Feltz's home,
how come his DNA was found in her living room?
Old lady beaten literally half to death, Carl.
Stella.
Stella!
Carl, Avril's got her next door.
They nearly hit us with that.
These were local, Carl, my old boyfriend.
I have an ex works for Novotel.
We live here.
We've done nothing wrong.
[music playing]
Hey, it's not a soup kitchen.
We have a system.
Get off.
Whoa, help.
[screaming]
What?
What are you--
Where's your kid?
What's a your kid?
Your kid, Kev, I need to speak to Kevin now.
Where is he?
Carl, dragging me out in the street
looking like Life of Brian's mum isn't how you ask for a favor.
Kelly, If you fuck me about, I'll dump you in a roundabout,
and I'll set fire to your blanket.
He's in Nottingham.
But what good is that without a postcode?
But why the fuck would I keep a postcode in a blanket?
What do you want him for?
Well, I'm not walking back.
You'll have to go and get my stuff.
Tell her she's in big bother for this, cheeky thing.
It's over a year old, and I don't know whether-- hello?
That's not Veronica, is it?
I'm trying to reach Kev Ball, Kevin Ball.
And where's work?
[jack hammering]
MAN: Yo, Ball.
Yeah?
Before you start, the kids used all the hot water.
Kev?
It's Carl.
Hey?
Carl Gallagher.
Give over.
That's more Tom Waits.
What happened to Tin Man?
[sniffing]
What's up, Carl?
Carl?
[music playing]
[struggling]
No, it's a ginger bloke.
[barking]
[laughter]
What?
Who's tidied you up?
Who missed you out?
Hey.
You all right, Kev?
Size of this.
Wow.
Swear to God, right, his 13th birthday,
I sat there, thinking he looked way too weird
to have going-out clothes.
No, you actually said it when I couldn't blow my candles out.
Only because they were Silk Cuts.
Oh, Jesus, Frank, where have they had you, Guantanamo?
[laughter]
Sorry, love.
Just forget it.
Ignore me.
It's just me sense of humor.
I'm Kev.
Patricia, Patty.
Whoa Whoa, don't need to ask who your dad is, do I?
Stop there, 'cause he doesn't.
[sigh]
Who?
Cynthia Feltz.
Dinner lady they sacked from Saint Ted's, kept
turning up in her pinny with no knickers on.
Little Cynth, how old now?
Mental age barely double figures
with the mirror, God bless the specimen,
but 77 this coming Saturday.
Who the fuck would try nailing Frank for a stunt like that?
Look.
I'm right, though, aren't I, Kev?
I remember me and Debs fetching you and my bad butties
and stuff when you were helping him on a job
around Cynthia's house.
Mm, soz, Carl, that's not how I remember it, mate.
You said on the phone.
No, you did. Look.
Debbie's kept receipts and everything.
No, I said on the phone that I had worked on the house.
Yeah, with my dad.
Ha, in his dreams, the bedridden gonk.
He buggered off with half my tools
and a brand-new stepladder, which I was fairly
chilled about because he'd nicked them from me
before and forgotten who from.
So he always tried selling them back to me.
Comes around, goes around, you know.
I-- I only went round to Fuzzy Feltz's
because the cheeky twat was giving it all city and guilds,
trying to sting her for 200 quid plus petrol.
No fucking car, anyway.
Should I be swearing on it?
Phrase it how you like, as long as I'm getting the truth.
Fucking right, the truth, it took me over a week
to make it even livable for her.
So Frank Gallagher was physically inside Cynthia
Feltz's living room when you were present and clearly
able to identify him? - I know.
We should've got five years for that.
[laughter]
Look.
Even if Frank did this, he just didn't.
Here, mate.
Cheers, yeah, mate.
[sigh]
Know what?
I looked her right in the eye till I knew
she believed every word I said.
But you know what else?
It don't count for a fucking bean
because they've still got witnesses
to the scratchcard stunt, CCTV of him
round her patch that night, and every fucker in the Jockey
seeing him flashing big cash at the bar.
He couldn't be more fucked, Carl.
You wanted to see me, Frank?
Frank, come on.
Nobody in my team wants to nail the wrong bloke just
for public opinion brownie points.
They think you're concealing evidence.
I know you are.
I did walk her home, and I was after her winnings.
My turn.
I caught her up after she'd left the Jockey.
On our secret telly.
Tinker Tailor, Tommy Cooper, "Blue Remembered Hills,"
Ronnie Barker, "Edge of Darkness,"
Pan's People flashing their clouts
to "Diamonds and Pearls."
And?
Pearls.
Oh, I thought you were going to say "Follyfoot Farm."
Why the fuck would I?
Because you know I like it.
Well, then you can fucking watch it then, can't you?
Look. It's like I said.
I'll get my old telly, right, and you
can sub me until an election, the election.
Ask Cynthia properly. [groaning]
Please.
Oh, fuck, I can't do this.
Just tell Cynthia to get back in her box,
the silly, old slop rag.
Granted.
Go on.
If it gets any clearer, I'll be topping meself.
[music playing]
[alarm beeping]
(SINGING) There's a monkey on my back makes me talk like that.
There's a monkey on my back makes me talk like that.
There's a monkey on my back makes me act like that.
There's a monkey on my back makes me talk like that.
[clearing throat]
What?
Tell us something about the Frank thing, Mimi.
Kevin fucking Ball, you owe me 30 quid for weed
and 6 years of interest.
Ha, not twice, you thieving Scouse bastard.
Pint?
Yes.
You lived here years before me.
Frank Gallagher, come on.
He hasn't give us one line of defense.
He shouldn't need to, Mimi.
Plus, I worked here seven years, never paid scratchcard prize
money in twenties, 'cause before midnight, some of them
can still count to five.
10 tens, count three out before they palm one,
and they're-- you know what I mean?
Of course, Frank was twenties, wasn't he?
Is this on the house?
Ta.
You all right, Monroe?
How's it going?
Actually, I was in the shower this morning, going,
things are looking--
you know when everything looks more colorful?
If Shane's laid a finger on you, now is the time to say.
What? Oh, give over.
Oh, twice, with oven gloves, 'cause
I'd blow him off if he did.
So that's a man B.
Marty.
Mar-- Marty?
Are you stuffing crack up your crack, Kel?
Marty is me, Kev.
Myrna, did you get it for us?
KEV: Marty, Marty.
Uh, no, hang on.
Hang on. Pen.
Pen, pen.
All right.
KEV: Karen, do you have a pen?
Right, go on.
Brilliant.
WOMAN: Tell them thanks for the collection.
Um, um--
Jamie, can I borrow you a sec?
This is Saturday's takings.
The only person drinking flip flops was Patty.
The only person paying was Frank.
He spent way more than Cynthia lost.
Between them, he spent more than that on scratchcards.
What, he couldn't have gone under her floorboards for more?
Plus, we paid her in tens.
Frank was borrowing twenties.
Now then, I'll have one of them.
It wasn't her money.
Karen.
Yeah?
Can you come look at something for us?
Um, ears waxed and deloused, and they made me look
absolutely champion down here.
[groaning]
[laughter]
Did you leave that in on purpose?
I didn't make her do it.
You showed me this yesterday.
No, this is different.
Do you remember Jody Garcia?
Yeah, yeah, she's piled it on.
Tell me about it.
When I get hold of her number, the first thing I ask
is, when are you due?
What were you ringing her for?
Well, she was in the queue for "Panama 2."
I've got Frank on her phone.
He wasn't jigging on his own, look.
I haven't a clue who it is. Have you?
Mm-hmm.
One of the Macreadys is dealing that batch.
That's Growbag Macready.
He's bungling something into Frank's pocket,
and it isn't fucking caster sugar.
Which is a lot more believable as to where Frank got his hands
on that kind of turnover.
Is he working for Growbag?
Grow up.
Afghans wouldn't let Frank run drugs for them.
Do you know a Growbag?
Growbag Macready?
I was at school him, wasn't I?
Watch this.
Why is this good news?
'Cause look.
He's slipping coke in my dad's pocket.
Will they let us take it in to show him?
Will they, fuck.
We can't let the police get a hold of this.
They'll string him up.
Frank has to see it, or we'll be here till the Olympics.
[beeping]
Fucking hell, I'm in trouble.
Kev Ball.
Your hair looks good.
You, you fucking Harmony hairspray,
the Sheriff of fucking Nottingham.
Listen, Frank.
In a sec, not now, Aidan is going to open his jacket
and show you what's underneath.
Oh, you've got a bit of weed? Just drop it down my shoe.
Drop it.
No, Dad, the nipple.
What?
[shouting]
You fucking thing!
Yes, yes, yes, Growbag, it's Growbag.
Yeah, we know about Growbag.
What?
He was there.
Dance.
He goes, "Keep fucking dancing, Frank."
I will caught your throat here and now.
What?
There's a drink in this for you, just something
I need you to look after for me for a couple of hours.
Cheers, Growbag.
Don't look around.
Cops are milking the overtime like Chilean fucking miners.
Don't look.
Start walking.
You go straight to the Irish Club.
I'm on an errand.
Go straight to the Irish Club.
No, I'm meant to be walking her home.
You go straight to the Irish Club,
and you stay fucking put till I turn up.
You don't sell it.
You don't take it.
You keep it safe--
11 o'clock, with the coke, with the dog.
But she won't be able to find her way if--
what dog?
[barking]
A mad fucking Nazi mutt, trying to hump
me senseless, but I must have got to the Irish Club,
as instructed.
[mumbling]
MAN: What's your problem, mate?
[mumbling]
FRANK: Oh, shit.
Sorry.
Begging your pardon, miss.
[groaning]
What was this?
But I've got a meeting in--
So what happened with the other drugs?
Well, no surprise there, I can't fucking remember.
But I must have had the nouse to shift a few bags
to pay for the cabaret.
So, hey, I'm not the dumb fuck that everybody makes out.
Hey?
I've gone a bit Mandela there, you know.
Hey, hey, and I get my money today, huh?
So skunk for tea.
[singing]
Frank, if you didn't walk Cynthia home, who did?
Come on, Grandma.
Let's have you.
Where has he gone again?
Keep smiling, sweetheart.
Just walk and keep smiling, all right?
Good girl.
Mushroom, get her home.
[barking]
Fucking hell.
But I-- I wouldn't.
I wouldn't, would I?
What?
Why would-- how would I dib in a Macready?
You know--
Frankly, Frank, it's a bit late for that.
No, seriously, don't.
Oh, no, no, huh-uh, if you've heard all that,
you know Frank's not in the running for this.
I want it in a written statement.
No, Not no, that's your noose, Frank.
If you don't, I'll let you go.
And you can take your chances with Growbag.
Don't, Dad, seriously.
No way.
Eh?
All right, you testify in both investigations--
Mrs. Feltz, Vince Macready.
Who?
Growbag, which guarantees you full privileges,
the official witness protection program,
you have no other option, Frank. -
KEV: Don't do it, mate.
MAN: He's out cold.
[laughter]
What time do you call this?
Fuck, I've been in a coma 10 hours.
You've been knocked out for 10 minutes.
The rest you slept through.
Saint Mary's, if it makes any difference.
Right, police guards and shit?
We're here.
And am I on full expenses for whatnot, the witness thing?
Frank, fuck off.
As soon as she's done with your stitches, you're on your own.
Oh, fuck, they'll shred me.
They'll fucking shred me.
Preventing that is totally within your power.
Give me a supportable statement.
I get CPS to grant you protected status.
Either way, you're going somewhere you've never been.
So don't forget your toothbrush, eh, Frank?
Any chance of a nosh, chubby chops?
[groaning]
JAMIE: All right, I give you a phrase.
You give me the name of the book.
Bright eyes.
Most haunted.
Oh, we have no carrots, so I'll give you
extra onion gravy, all right?
Pass us an onion gravy, Frank.
JAMIE: Who said in which film, "please, sir,
can I have some more?"
Bobby Sands.
Jamie.
Take over, Paxman.
How'd you get here?
Through Highgrove Park.
Right, these should fit.
Fuck off, they're mine.
That is going nowhere near him.
Oi, this is all down to you shamrock gobshites.
The least you owe me is protection,
free bar, and sustenance.
Well, he's not kicking me out, the tramp.
This is the first place the Macreadys will look.
Ow, ow.
Fucking hell, Osama Bin Deadawhile?
[laughter]
Right, Frank, in the shower, for fuck's sake.
I'll stick some of me dad's clothes outside the door.
Frank, can I just say something, while we're all in one room
here?
We're all genuinely gutted about the rooms.
And blameless, lethal bullshit.
But I'm telling you, Frank, if you had have done it,
you'd be lucky to be alive.
We were only wrong about you decking a retarded pensioner,
but that's because you were elsewhere,
muling gak for a reptile whose gear
you spunked and never paid for.
But never once was I fingering you.
That was Geoffrey and Bungle here.
Fuck off.
[shouting]
Open the fucking door now.
Open the fucking door.
THUG: Get this fucking door open, man.
[shouting]
Where's Frank?
Macreadys are on their way.
Frank's only dead if he's lucky, I'm telling you.
Get him out of the bath.
Give me your car keys.
I'll disappear Frank.
Quicker than that!
Frank, move.
Where the fuck are you taking me now?
Just get him in and in.
FRANK: Not so fucking rough, Karen.
Just give us enough for a Holiday Inn then.
Who do you think you are?
Says the prossie.
Relax. It's a Muslim.
[chuckling]
Nah, Ches, come on, mate.
This is bad timing, this, mate.
Will you chill out?
Ches, seriously, I can't, mate.
I've got Patty and Stella out there.
Where they belong, the tramps.
There, light that.
She's teaching your Stella Paddy rebel songs, you know.
We do that.
It's fucking Guantanamo.
[laughter]
I'm scared to go out.
Yeah, I'm not surprised, with that scraggy, old turnip.
Can I say turnip? [laughter]
Fuck.
Look.
And stay in your cot, two secs.
(SINGING) I said, baby, you set my soul on fire.
Where is he?
He'll be ages yet.
These won't last two minutes.
I'll sort you a lift home.
Taxi, please.
(SINGING) Baby, never should say never.
I got a hurricane inside my vein.
WOMAN: Wouldn't you like that, then?
It would be nice, wouldn't it? - Yeah.
You couldn't split a fiver for the slot machines, could you?
How are you?
Hello again.
Wow, what a coincidence.
You and the mujidaddis, eh?
[laughter]
The jihadists.
You had 'em all sitting about in your kitchen,
fucking singing, songs you couldn't even remember.
Name one.
Any fucking one.
Look, I knew plenty of songs.
I just mixed all the words up.
Hey.
They've stopped texting.
What have I done?
You serious?
I thought you said they were scared shitless.
You said they were lethal.
Yeah, they are.
All they wanted from me was bulk Jammie
Dodgers at less than cost.
I told them to fuck right off.
Yes, lad.
Standard.
I know, but look at all this bleach I'm stuck with.
And who else around here buys bleach?
Fucking hell.
So where's the helmet?
Hmm?
Chatsworth to here is five A-roads.
Taxi.
To see me?
It was, yeah.
Jump or justice?
Well, I've had a couple of pervy accidents
thinking about the first, you know, when we met.
But, hey, no, you know, I'm no threat,
'cause I'm happily married.
Or I'm happily married 'cause I'm no threat.
Fuck it.
You know what I mean.
Hey, and just for the record, I'm no pussy gimp, either.
But, uh, you know, cheers, anyway.
How are you?
I'm good.
You're being a bit thick about Frank, no offense.
Whatever happens, he's rattling like a vibrator
in a biscuit tin, poor tramp.
He's had it with your lot if he doesn't
make a statement against Mushroom,
Growbag's hit list if he does.
I don't need to do anything with Frank except wait
for him to fall into prison.
Then why are your lads still out looking?
For reasons I can't disclose and in the public's best
interest, I want action sooner than later, yeah.
We could sort this out if you stop being greedy.
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?
Wow.
That's just given me a semi.
You can collar Growbag anytime.
You want to flash your tits upstairs.
Bagging Mushroom for attempted murder and a swoop,
yeah, they're gonna love you upstairs.
But I'm begging you.
Don't orphan Carl.
Being in charge is crippling the lad, who's
dad we all know is innocent.
Please.
I'm begging you.
Bagging one Macready is more than enough to flash
tits for your James Andertons.
What's Growbag's thoughts on that?
You have nothing without Growbag.
And if he can't hand his brother over, which he won't, you
have nothing.
You have fuck all without Frank.
I can trust you.
Where's Frank?
Don't know how you could have missed him.
Oh, you two-faced, useless, little twat.
It was me, Frank.
Kev did that.
No, no, I want the full Miranda, in front of witnesses.
Everybody, you can fuck off.
I'm sticking--
You're not being arrested, you thick, stinking dick sack.
Well, what does this look like then?
Easy, I'm not a fucking terrorist.
Crowing thrice, you ginger-haired hanging basket.
Got me reasons.
Well, I hope you choke on them.
Outside, now.
If you're banging her, I'll bruise you, Kev.
- Behave yourself. - Oi.
You have, haven't you?
No.
Look at me.
No, scout's honor, dib, dib, dib.
Trust me, honor.
All right, I let her watch me have
a wank in the back of the car.
And she let me come on her foot, bare foot.
But that's all.
I could have had the lot, but no.
[groan]
He's on his own down her patch.
How is that safer?
Oi, believe me.
He's safe with her if this goes wrong.
Look.
Mimi, right, has got us an appointment with Growbag
in a couple of hours.
Growbag's gonna have to let Mushroom go.
You're not serious?
Frank nails Mushroom in a statement 'cause, well,
come on. He has to.
But he doesn't have to testify against Growbag,
which is good news.
Big deal, we're back exactly where we started.
Except now we've got information that Growbag
seriously needs to hear--
how, where, and when the police are planning their big
raid on his patch. - How?
How do we know that?
From her.
Jesus, come here.
She's got her reasons, apparently.
No, no, no, Carl, you're not coming.
I've been talking to dealers since I was in year three.
Not ones connected with three murders that we know of.
Carl, if shit's going round about your dad-- and it will--
and you hit the ceiling, and it all kicks off,
we're gonna end up buried under a scrapyard somewhere.
Right, and if you come back saying, I did my best,
but it's a no, then, Kev, I'll blame you.
Shift it, in the car.
He's fetched us forward an hour.
How much are you ordering, and what's your best price?
KEV: Look,
KEV: Look, Mimi, right, there's been a change of plans.
Fuck off.
But Dad's looking at five to seven
if Growbag doesn't turn that kid in.
He worships his little brother.
KEV: Then we'll have to persuade him.
No, fuck off.
He'll have your necks on a butty.
And you can't just change your mind.
We've arranged everything.
What, Carl?
You're not gonna look so buxom if this gets around, are you?
Ooh, Ma Maguire's lost the ball.
What's that gonna cost you?
Shut your yap.
I'm going.
Things have been a lot quieter around here since you
and Hindley fucked off.
Right, I'll meet you on the corner of Springhill.
Hey, and it's just me and Mimi doing the talking.
Promise, kiddo.
Promise.
Jesus.
Quiet around here without me, is it?
I'm one of your own, you--
you daft twat.
Fuck.
[phone ringing]
Come on, Carl.
Come on.
FRANK: I was seeing her home and, yeah, cadging,
but no harm intended.
And I walked her as far as Panama two's.
[phone vibrating]
Yeah?
KEV (ON PHONE): Me going to the Irish Pub's gone tits up.
Say again.
What went wrong?
KEV (ON PHONE): Me, the bike, no cars with four wheels
or without a body in the fucking boot.
Help.
Second right, then second left.
No, wait.
One, two, three, did I say two?
So then it's three.
Is it?
Where's your thingy, you woman?
It got robbed.
Second or third?
Remind me to get our Shane to fix you
up with a cheapish one on me.
It'll be mine, anyway.
Two or three?
Who'd need more than one?
Fucking turnings, second or third?
Third!
Where's Kev?
Turn round, Carl.
Fucking turn round.
All right?
[irish music]
Fuck you.
Get fucked, you big, dumb fluff bag.
Give us a bottle.
Come on, then.
I'll slash your fucking skittle down to clinical average.
Do you mind?
My daughter's fucking dancing.
Oh, fuck off.
Double vodka and a shot of Martini.
Snacks, if you want.
Undo their wheel nuts.
What's happening now?
Tough Kev kicking off?
How's it hanging, D-I-Y-O-Y?
If that's undercover, I'm Jeremy fucking Beadle.
Who have you brought?
No one.
I'm here because I realize your other meeting
is pointless without me.
Mimi, Carl, Kev Ball, when you hear what we've got to say,
you'll regret all your threats.
Private.
You brainless, two-faced cow, what are youse doing here?
What did I tell you?
A filthy ten-incher in a skirt.
None of us wants any of this overheard, least of all you.
This bit can only come from you, mate.
Come on.
Cynthia.
I had nothing to do with that.
Your Mushroom did.
Mushroom's never met Cynthia, never been near her house.
Attempted murder and rape.
MIMI: Oh, my God.
CARL: Since when?
Her first question after surgery was, am I pregnant?
It all came up on footage, this, been tracking
my dad's movements since when--
that night.
Not a word from Frank offered or necessary,
I give you information to avoid imminent raid
or raids by the drug squad.
We let this one go.
We?
You're not drug squad, unlike your ex.
Gus Carroll, how is their new baby?
Hazel eyes, feeding issues, a stigmatism, two christenings,
and pyloric stenosis--
he emails.
Carl, talk to him.
Before we go from--
from thingy, you get the dates of two
planned drug raids on the table from
joint south and east divisions.
When?
Today, for all you know.
It's not today.
You still have time to shift out.
But if it ain't soon, you'll be leaving your shop beyond.
Plus, you cancel my dad's debt.
Get a job.
That's 2 and 1/2 grand Frank lost me.
Your dead dog tried bumming him,
and the shit went all over the shop.
Did she?
We have got a 14 million to 1 DNA match for your brother.
Forensic matches have green paint from here
and witness ID from Cynthia if we need it.
But she really doesn't deserve that stress.
He did, Growbag.
He kicked the fuck out of her.
You've still got time.
[phone dialing]
Where's our Mushroom?
Keep him there.
Plus, I need town transport, not you driving.
Mushroom stays with me.
Nobody fetches him.
I'll bring him in.
Can I, with a lawyer?
And you, you tell Frank his slate's
clean once he's done three 40-hour weeks
on the family stalls.
I'm here to ask a favor.
Actually, you owe me big time, so I'm call the favor in.
Micky needs a place to stay, so I said he could stop here.
That's good of you.
You could do with the company.
I get enough company with you coming
around every two minutes, telling
me we can't see each other.
Hiya.
Kel said you wouldn't mind.
You could do with the company.
No problem, Micky, me shithole es su shithole.
Told you he wouldn't mind.
Micky could help with the bills.
Such as they are.
And I can grab some stuff from my mum's,
you know, make it a bit more comfy and stuff.
Like a Hoover.
Fumigation kit.
[laughter]
You'll have a great time here.
Are you sure you don't mind?
Like she said, Kelly said, could do with the company.
Lonely on my own.
Ladies and gentlemen, the moment
you've all been waiting for, the man you've all been waiting
for, the man you owe a fucking fortune, so dig deep,
or you're gonna get some looks.
MAN: [inaudible]
Frank Gallagher!
[cheering]
Yeah!
Go on, freedom!
It's Daniel Day Lewis, fucking what?
[inaudible]
He's a knobhead.
Oh, well, the stillborn ultimatum.
Crossing a line there, swampy.
Well, come on.
Well, where were you, Skywalker?
Third party voyeurism, bumming about in a car you
probably couldn't afford.
[groan]
MAN: Oh, hey.
-
CHESNEY: Carl.
MAN: Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Well done, mate.
You know what you are to me, my lovely?
Cut it out.
No, come on, a total cunt.
Go on, drink on me.
Butch, a drink for the offspring, son of the father.
Oh, Butch, forget it.
This boy is staying dry as a bone here.
I'm running Kev back to Nottingham.
Oh, are you-- are you moving, Jaffa Cake?
Ladies and gentlemen, please, put your hands
together for Ms. Cynthia Feltz.
[cheering]
Here's the fella.
He's my little lover, my own personal Umpeldink.
Fuck off. You stink of Dettol and shit--
Dettol and shit.
Yeah, so keep your distance, Fuzzy Feltz.
No, they had to shave me.
[groaning]
Everybody's eating.
Where's your purse, by the way?
Someone want to clue her in about double jeopardy?
[chuckling]
[tape rewinding]
CARL (ON TAPE): Fiona was 16 when she took over this family.
Debbie was about 11, well, 11 or 12.
Lip never did, but only 'cause he was born knowing
about that kind of stuff.
I'm 21 and never been asked.
[tape rewinding]
You know what's really true and what's to be admired, Carl?
You've never hurt anybody in your life, have you?
Of course, I fucking have.
Are you kidding?
Welsh Taffy, when I busted his bollocks,
spent a fortnight in hospital.
Ask anybody.
Yeah, that's 'cause he threatened your Debbie and you
wanted to hurt him back, sure.
But you've never hurt anybody first, have you?
Don't think I wouldn't know how to.
You should be really proud of that.
Cut it out, you poof.
Neither of us wants to hear me say this.
You have your dad to thank for that.
[brakes squealing]
[groan]
[laughter]
Oi, fuck.
It'll be the airbag next, you prick.
[brakes squealing]
Oi, you little Shit.
Sorry, Kev.
It's too fucking funny.
[laughter]
[groaning]
No.
[laughter]
I'm not concentrating on the road here.
[theme music]
[music playing]