(KNOCKS ON DOOR)
Hey, Christoph, you...
Hey, Vin. You all right?
Yeah. Fine, I'm fine.
You look like shit, man.
You see patients like that? Yeah, you're right.
I'm not sleeping. Oh.
Got a bifta on you? You can't have a bifta at work.
Fuckin' diagnosing people. I can do that with my eyes closed.
Go on, give us a... Have you got a vape?
One toot. It's strong. Take it easy.
(GRUNTS)
Just a bit. That's enough. That's a good amount.
Fuck, dude. You're going to end up throwing a whitey, man.
That's enough. Your fucking eyes are bulging out your head.
(SPLUTTERS) What's going on with you?
My ex. She's getting married again next weekend.
So, go on. What's the problem, then?
Just making me reflect, Vin. You know.
I've been looking at myself squarely in the face
and saying ‐ What a wanker.
Yeah. I mean, who are you? I'm 50 years old.
I'm just frittering my life away,
bedding this endless parade of fit young women.
It's just a blur of knees and blowjobs.
It's all because of this. It's so easy now with that.
My life has become one great big wet orgasm.
God, how awful! Thanks.
Thanks for your sympathy.
I listen to you week in, week out.
When I've got a problem, you're never ‐
I'm sorry. And I really mean that.
I know you love... Er... Maria.
Melinda. Melinda.
If I had a flower for every time I think of you,
I'd walk in my garden forever.
Tennyson. Poetry.
It's intense.
It was her favourite. Mm.
The human heart, eh?
It's a capricious and mercurial beast.
(PING)
Oh?
Oh, she's nice. No.
Look at that. It's blonde.
It's blonde. Look at the mammaries on that!
All right! You fucking sociopath, Chris.
I'm doing all right. Bipolar's good. Keen hiker.
You're so unprofessional, dude. You get on my fucking...tits.
You all right, Mr Bishop? Yeah, good, good. You?
Done summat to your hand? No. Nothing.
You're being a bit sheepish. What have you done?
Nothing. Oh, come 'ed.
Go on.
All right, but you can't laugh, yeah?
Yeah. Promise?
Yeah, I do.
Ooh!
(LAUGHS) Yeah, all right.
Fuck, what have you done?!
An accident with the fish.
What do you mean, with the fish?
Are you trying to say I've been fingering my fish?
What else... What else could it be?
You couldn't even... Their arses are...
It's you that suggested fingering ‐
You're the one doing the gesturing! What's that?
Fuck's sake, dude! That woman's really... She's heard that.
Fine.
Goodbye. Goodbye to you.
(LAUGHS)
Sorry.
(PHONE RINGS) Bollocks! What does he fucking want? Hello?
Are you still a petty criminal?
Cheeky bastard! I'm a professional thief.
I want to hire you.
Hm?
Go on, then. What can we help you with?
Business, Vinnie.
I hear you're a man that can get things done.
As you're already aware, my ex‐wife is an unpleasant woman.
She's manipulative and conniving and...sexually loose.
I can testify to that.
We are still engaged in a bitter and acrimonious divorce battle.
Still? Still. It's at an impass‐ey.
Impass.
That bitch has got my house, my kids, and half my money.
And I tolerated it. Ha ha!
I was being the height of fucking reasonable.
But now she's gone too far. Now she's involved
three beautiful and innocent ladies that have got nothing to do with it.
Which ladies?
My classic cars. Ooh!
I registered them all in her name. Tax dodge.
Now she's only gone and fucking sold them for a pound apiece
to her new boyfriend.
It's not about the money, Vin. It...
I... I just want them cars!
What are you doing, pretending to cry?
Trying to cry there? Your missus tried to do that...
Remember his missus trying to cry? (LAUGHTER)
All right, look, I just love the cars and I want them back.
All right. Where are they and who's the new boyfriend?
I've no idea. But whoever he is, he must be blind and deaf and...
..like getting slobbery blowjobs from a halitosis gob.
I actually found her surprisingly fragrant.
This whole thing could just be a ruse to piss me off.
But it's possible she has sold them.
All right, we'll get them back for you.
But that's not enough. No, this now.
And the same again when the cars are back in my possession. Deal?
It's not enough. You don't know how much is there.
How much is there? Loads.
Nailed it, Dylan.
All right, misery bollocks, who do you want to be?
Good cop or bad cop? I'm done with cops.
No‐one does it properly. Let's find out who this boyfriend is.
You're miserable today.
Miserable.
Hello, boys. You all right, love?
Yeah. Go and get your mam, will you?
Mum!
Oh, wow. If it isn't the useless fish killers.
What do you two want? Hello, Daphne.
Don't Daphne me. Has he sent you?
What does he want this time? Money related, no doubt.
Yeah, a bit. Your husband, he's getting a bit frustrated.
This divorce, it's taking a bit of doing, isn't it?
He's sent us down. In the spirit of goodwill.
He just wants it over so you can move on with your lives.
He's got that lass from the shop. That skinny Botox bitch?
Yeah, her. And you've got whoever you've got.
I hope he's dead nice, an' all. Found herself someone nice?
Right, so that's it, is it?
He wants to know who the boyfriend is.
Well, you can tell him from me
that I am sucking the D‐I‐C‐K
of every eligible bachelor in Hawley.
Now piss off!
Magenta.
Right. Plan B, stakeout.
Gis a light, will you?
I grew that place, right?
From a fucking spit and sawdust strip club
to a high‐class erotic establishment.
(SNIFFS) And now she, Erin,
thinks she can swan in
and make it all feminist burlesque and suffragette theme nights.
You've got to move with the times. That's what she's doing.
No, no. I move with the times.
I'm a rolling stone. I gather no moss.
Right. Don't forget,
I am as woke as the next man.
Unless, of course, the next man happens to be my Uncle Cyril.
Who... Bless his heart, still enjoys
rubbing up against people on busy buses.
Oi oi!
She's on the move. Yeah.
And it looks like... she is going golfing.
Do make sure you get the enormous bi‐noc‐ulars out.
She's fucking right there!
And there's no way she's going bloody golfing in that outfit.
Look at time of day it is!
Maybe she enjoys a round of twilight golf.
Twilight golf, that's not a thing, man.
Of course it's a thing. Everything's a thing.
You think of a thing. The weirdest thing you can think of.
Pony Scrabble. What?
Pony Scrabble.
That's not a fucking thing. They haven't got hands.
Genital chess. Gen... Yes! That is a thing.
Does everything have to come down to sex with you?
No, no, sunshine. There's plenty of things that aren't sex‐related.
Go on, think of one, then. Well, I will.
There's...
What is there? What is there?
Yeah. That isn't...
Nice one. Well done, dickhead.
Oh, shit!
Here.
There.
(GRUNTING)
Hardwick.
They're mine. My pond, my balls.
I... I found them. In my pond.
You fat fucking peasant!
(CACKLES)
Lousy piece of shit.
You know him? You could say we've got history.
He was horrible to my Cardi. Come here.
I'm fine. Come here. Come to Mum.
Isn't he married? Yeah, to a fucking heiress.
She's not an heiress. Her dad runs Brisby Sausages.
I think that makes her an heiress.
Now he's sticking his pork banger somewhere else.
That's exactly why we're going to screw him.
How are we going to know where he stores the cars?
Dylan's right. They'll have garages.
And they won't show it to you unless you're an enthusiast.
I was listening to a podcast about the Amphibicar.
Fucking hell! It's all fish, fish, fish with you, isn't it?
We need to get down to Russell's bloody golf course.
I need you two dressing up as enthusiasts. Get him chatting.
Find out where them cars are. But Hardwick knows us, dude.
He knows me and you.
But he doesn't know Fat Ronaldo and Captain Hansen, does he?
How are we going to pose as car enthusiasts without a classic car?
My mum's got a really old car.
What's the name of it? Triumph... A fucking Triumph? Triumph Herald?
Yeah, that's it. My grandad left it to her.
When she was emptying his house out, she found animal porn.
Which animal? What does that matter?
Just curious. Which animal? It was hamsters.
That's disgusting. Can you get it?
What, the porn? The car!
That would be worth seeing. Don't see why not.
It's just sitting there. You've saved the bloody day!
You angel! Take JJ. And if you can find the porn for our Ashley,
bring it, he's curious. Who's that girl?
Oh, yeah. She started last week. Staring at you.
No. Shh!
Ahem.
Carol, you should have seen her face. Boo!
I said it's not Halloween yet. And she said 'Maybe it is Halloween.'
Did you see that? Oh, piss off.
Just go and talk to her. And say what?
Just say, like, hello.
Talk to her like you talk to one of us.
Hey, how's it going?
You and I should just go for a coffee together.
That does it. Sexy, that.
That was sexy. That whispery thing.
I'm Vinnie. Do you want to go...
(WHISPERS) ..for a coffee? Doesn't work.
Maybe just leave it. It is a shocker, like.
You can piss clean off, Carol! You stupid forehead!
I'm going to have a stand‐up wee.
(GRUNTS)
Right, well, there she is.
She might not even start.
We'll have to give her a bump‐start.
Ta‐ra‐ra bumpt‐ee‐eh!
(CACKLES)
Not looking good, is it? No.
Can you do it up?
Yeah. And a bloody wash might make a difference.
Just touch it up a bit. Ooh‐er!
Good with his hands, is he, Sugar?
I like a man who's good with his hands.
(CACKLES)
Yeah. Yeah, he is.
You know, I'm so glad that you've found someone, darling.
Because she's not a classic beauty.
Quirky, we used to call her.
Quirky little quack quack!
Quack quack quack!
Quaaaack!
(CACKLES)
(SIGHS) Right, who wants a drink?
Great! Quack quack!
(STUMBLES) Ooh! (CACKLES)
What the hell are you doing? She thinks we're a couple, you know.
I just can't stand her going on about me being single.
It's no difference to you. We'll be out of here in half an hour.
Fine. Fine.
I don't think you look like a duck, by the way.
Thanks. Right!
T‐T‐Top up! (CACKLES)
Oh... Pilau rice.
Nice?
Mm.
(SIGHS) Oh, it's so lovely to see you, sweetheart.
I'm so glad that you're so happy.
And JJ, you seem...lovely.
Mm. Thank you.
He is. He adores me.
And I adore him. Hm!
Oh, good. Good, good, good.
Cos you're like me.
I love a dark‐skinned man.
You know, Omar Sharif and...
..Mohamadam Ali.
Get 'em up!
But now that you're both here,
there is something that I want to talk to you about.
What is it?
(SIGHS)
Oh, my God, are you dying?
Is Uncle Paulie my real dad? No!
Well, it's unlikely.
Then what?
Look, me and her dad,
we had a lot of... (AMERICAN ACCENT) ..problems.
Yeah? And one of them was...
..the menopause.
What about it? It came very early to me.
A lot earlier than I've ever told you about.
How early? I was 33.
And your gran had it as well.
You mean... Yeah. So it's...
It's... It's thingy!
Um... Hereditary.
That's it. Hededitry. I mean...
I do not want to scare you,
but you seem so much in love.
And if you're set on having kiddies, I would...
I'd just get a move on.
(BEEPING)
Ooh! That's the nan bread.
Are you OK?
I want to be someone's mummy.
I want to dress her up in dungarees and pigtails.
What if I've left it too late?
(SNIFFS)
(CRIES)
Gentlemen, meet...
..Teresa. (CHEERING)
Dude! Amazing, man!
Fucking brilliant, dude.
Why did you call her Teresa?
Like Mother Teresa.
I know, but she's a fucking nun with dry ankles, isn't she?
Can you not think of a sexy car name?
All right, but what is a super sexy car name?
Scarlett. Nicole.
Carol. Ooh.
What? Doesn't look like the kind of car that'd be in a porno, love.
(LAUGHS)
Right, follow my lead.
(POSH) You there! You there! Young man!
Young man! We're from out of town, looking for a game.
Is the owner around, by any chance?
Mr Hardwick? He'll be in his office.
I can radio him.
Oh, goodness me, that would be terrific. Nice one.
What? What are you doing? What is that stupid accent?
My posh voice. Groundsman to Mr Hardwick?
Adds a touch of class, no?
Just... It doesn't match your face, so...
What do you mean, it doesn't match my face?
Will you just speak normally, please?
I'm in character, you clown.
This is method acting, for Rory. My golf persona.
Rory? That's right.
Worked out a whole back story for him.
Believe me, he had a tough childhood.
Oh, for fuck's sake. In spite of that, he's prevailed.
He's going to meet you at the terrace. Over there.
Oh... Ever so nice. Nice. Thank you very much.
Don't draw attention to yourself. I know this...
Are you the out of towners?
Yes, aye. Dylan. Dylan Golding is my name.
And this is my associate.
Rory Finnegan. MBE.
Russell Hardwick, managing director.
So, which club are you from? Brookworth.
Brookworth? I know it well.
Yeah? Yeah, I know the MD down there. Michael Fincher.
Oh, Michael. Mickey boy. The Finchmeister.
He's a great lad. Yeah, he's great, isn't he?
And such a nice guy.
Shame though about...what happened.
Frightful. I know.
Frightful. You wouldn't want to be managing with only one.
Definitely better with more than one. For sure.
So you're after a game, yeah? Cheeky 18?
That would be great.
We've been driving, you see. Lots of driving, don't you know.
And we rather thought it would be great to stretch our legs
and swing a few clubs around the golf...course.
No problem. Strictly speaking, we're a members club.
But I shall just give Mickey a call. He can vouch for you.
And away you go.
The old cars. I don't know about you, mate,
I find it really stiffens me up.
I say old, I mean classic. Won't be a sec.
They go like a dream, but they're not built for comfort,
the old classic cars!
Michael! Russell Hardwick.
Prepare to leg it.
Yeah, how's life?
Fantastic. I've got a couple of your boys here looking for a game.
Dylan Golding and Rory...
Finnegan. Finnegan.
MBE.
Uh‐huh. OK.
OK, catch you later.
Course is all yours, gentlemen.
Mickey vouched for you.
Oh, Mickey. Good old...Michael.
We need to get him a drink. Thanks. Enjoy.
We'll just fetch our clubs from the Triumph Herald 1963.
It's like Ford Knox, Vinnie.
There is no way we are nicking them cars from Hardwick.
He keeps them in a special compound. What kind of compound?
Can we not break in?
No, the whole thing is guarded. It's patrolled.
We asked to see them. He got really paranoid about it.
I keep mine under lock and key. CCTV. Guard dogs.
And a moat with piranha fish.
So dressing up as Rory was pointless.
So what you're saying is we're fucked, aren't we?
Yes. Yeah? All right, fine.
We'll blackmail him, then. Blackmail?
This is Hardwick we're talking about.
He's an enormous cockhole.
Remember what he did to our Cardi?
Eh? He thinks he's better than everybody.
And we've got photographic evidence of him playing away.
Thomas, give me the phone.
(CLATTERING)
Who would over‐arm it like that, you fucking nutcase?
Oh, dude, he's a vindictive bastard.
He could turn nasty.
His wife's minted. We could name our price
and earn more than what Bishop's offering.
Exactly. JJ, have a look at that.
Still got his golfing glove on.
Seriously, listen. All we need to do is work out
how to get photographs off the phone,
show his wife what a twat he is.
Yeah. You need a specific cable.
Christ! Thwarted at the first hurdle.
(PIGEONS FLAP)
Ah.
Here he is. Knobhead.
Right, you. All you have to do is show him these images...
Jesus...
Show him these and ask for the money.
I don't want to do this. He scares me.
You need to go and show him who he's dealing with, privileged knobhead.
Leave the pigeon as well. I need him. I need the courage.
You can't take Nigel over there. I'm not doing it, then!
Me and Nigel or nothing! Stop snapping, dude!
Knobhead!
Cardi, tuck him in. Yes!
Tuck yourself in. That doesn't even make sense.
It's just Russell Hardwick.
Just that knobhead Russell Hardwick.
Russell. You?
The aquatic golf ball boy.
(GASPS)
Yeah, that's right.
It's me. Well, it's not just me.
There's other people involved as well.
They're sitting in that van. What the fuck?
And this is Nigel. Brains of the operation.
Er... Here's t'photos.
Nice one of you, that. Good angle.
Get in.
Get in the car if he's asking you to get in the car.
Get in!
You can keep those. Those are copies.
Thank you.
So um...
Have you got the cash?
Shall I tell you what happened?
Er... Yeah.
My wife, my beautiful, beautiful wife,
Sophia...
..has got an incurable illness.
She's only 52 and she won't see 53.
(ON CAR RADIO) # The Way We Were
I love her.
I do. I love her with all my heart.
But for a long time now, because of the treatment,
and the drugs she's been taking,
there's been no...
..physical side to our relationship.
Have you any idea what that does to a man, eh?
Er... Yeah.
And I know I should feel ashamed of myself,
but...I just need...
..that touch,
that...
..feel of a woman.
And I succumbed.
But if you send those photos to my Sophia...
..it will kill her.
It will. It will finish her off.
Imagine if it was your loved one. Imagine how you'd feel.
Eh?
Sorry. Sorry.
No, it's...
It's all right. We... We...
We won't tell her. We won't show the photos.
Really? Yes!
Swear to me.
On your pigeon's life.
I swear on my pigeon's life, all right?
Thank you. You...good, good man.
Thank you.
# Like a catfish in the river, like a flounder in the sea... #
Why isn't he carrying anything? Shouldn't he have a bag?
Cardi... Cardi, where's the money?
Dickhead, why is he driving off?
I couldn't, Vin, man. I just fucking couldn't.
What the fuck's going on?
I couldn't. Couldn't what?
What are you doing?
He misses the touch.
What does that even mean?
Make some noise for the amazing Baga Chipz!
(CHEERING)
Who's ready for my battered sausage?
Oh, God, look at the state of him!
Look at his weird forehead. Weird eyes.
He does have weird eyes.
Is that a couple... Wanting a threesome?
Oh, stop it! Oh, my God!
You can't rush into this, you know.
Trust me, as someone who got pregnant at the wrong time,
you need to make sure that you're certain.
I wish I had someone I could even consider a future with.
Men just see me as my job.
Er... Excuse me!
You are beautiful, for starters. And you're funny.
There's someone out there that would kill to be with a woman like you.
Not him.
He looks like he smells of fish.
Mr McCann.
We'll catch up later.
Does she know... about our arrangement?
Oh, no, no. I'll tell her you were looking for Vinnie.
Here. Incorporate this into the takings.
And congratulations, you've had a very good month.
Thank you.
I'll be seeing you.
That's it. We've failed.
We've had the opportunity to screw him twice now,
and we've failed. Still, hear me out.
We could still send the photos to his missus.
Unless, right, in his car, he had this brochure for a car show.
The Vintage North. What if he's taking his classics to that?
I'm googling that. The Vintage North it was called.
Last day for entry is today.
So we're going to need to enter Teresa, like, now.
We'd better get a shift on with that.
I don't want to miss that, Christ on a bike.
(EXHALES)
Nice tats. Sorry?
I like these.
You like my tattoos? I like your t...
I nearly said tits. I panicked a little bit.
What I meant... I like your chain and...
I'm Sugar. I'm Vincent.
Er... Vinnie. Vin... Vin.
Well, good to meet you, Vin, Vincent, Vinnie, Vin.
Oh, shit.
I drink coffee sometimes. You'll find me doing it...
Um... I do it alone most times.
And I'm wondering...
You... Would... Do...
Would you like to come...with me...
It'll just be me and you on the day.
Yeah, that sounds great.
Yeah, I'd love a brew. With you. On the day.
Yeah?
Oh, look at us two! Just a couple...of coffee drinkers.
I drink coffee! Shit, dude.
That went bad.
What's his name, Harold Shipman?
(DOOR BELL LIKE HUNTING HORN) Not Harold Shipman!
That doesn't get annoying, does it?
Harold... Harold Pipsky? Hello, gentlemen.
I trust you've come to fill in the paperwork
to enter the competition. Yes.
And that's the lady, is it? Yeah, there she is.
Very nice indeed. Right, I'll get the forms.
Her indoors prefers me to keep car matters out of the house.
Oh! Two ticks.
All right.
Looks like he needs a little rod, doesn't he?
A spade, and the pointy ears, and a four‐leaf clover.
That's a bloody leprechaun. It's the same thing.
No, it's not. A leprechaun is just an Irish gnome.
He looks like a gnome.
Are them the forms?
Beautiful.
Can I use your back?
Scrumptious.
Cardi, stay still.
Ever wish you could take her out for dinner?
Wine her, dine her.
Maybe get a little flirty after a couple of glasses too many.
Maybe invite her back for a bit of coffee.
A tender kiss when the time is right.
Exactly.
Then fuck her brains out. What?
What? No...
It's all right. I just got...
..carried away with the...
..metaphors. Is it metaphor?
Yeah.
And where are you going to put it anyway? Up the exhaust ‐
Hey! Shall we just leave it there?
Absolutely. I'm sorry to ask this,
but I'm a bit concerned about the old...
..security. We can trust everyone, can't we?
Nothing to worry about on that account.
We're a community. We all trust each other implicitly.
Fantastic.
Thanks ever so much. Thank you, mate. All right.
Dude, that is a gnome. That is a gnome.
Thanks for coming, Carol. Moral support.
Hey. Alex.
Nick.
I work in the travel industry.
Wednesday, we have a black bin for general waste.
Green for garden clippings.
Sellotape, to me, is like heroin.
I love the look of it, the smell of it.
There's nothing you can't fix with it.
What about a plate? Or an arm?
She could have a face like a eel but if she's got the right shoes on,
I will ride her like a bronco. Mm!
I do like it out the back.
Out the... In the front, out the back.
I'm a stripper. Not out the back, like.
I was a lesbos for a while but I'm back into solids now.
I get my kit off and men pay me money.
Sorry, love, that was flat. Can I have another one?
Whoa! Hey, are you all right?
JJ...
Hang on. Got a podcast.
What's it on? Californian droughts of the 1930s.
It is a madness. Back then, yeah, the wind used to be so strong,
it would blow the dry soil right up into the sky
and blacken it.
Yeah. Oh, really?
Mm. Fascinating.
And this is before all the bloody global warming as well.
Where are you going? Going home. You?
Yeah, same. I've...
I've had a bit of a bad day.
Do you fancy coming and helping me drown my sorrows?
Oh, I'm just going to...
Yeah?
There's something I want you to see from last year's show.
Before the judging takes place,
everybody gathers for a group photograph.
Check out the background.
They've left their cars. Exactly.
And you wouldn't believe how long it takes to get that photo sorted.
They'll have their keys with them though.
Some do, some don't. It won't make a difference.
Them old cars, no deadlocks, no immobilisers.
Do you not know this man, Hardwick?
No, never met the man.
I don't even know how she met him. Through the golf probably.
Or dogging. Is this ornamental?
No, no, I have got ornamental ones.
But that will take your head clean off. Looks ornamental.
It isn't. What's all this oriental stuff about?
Why are you so into it? I'm a quarter Japanese.
I find that very hard to believe.
When I was married, my wife hated it.
But now I am free to embrace my cultural identities.
Sorry, where might one find a washroom?
He wants a piss.
Oh, er... Outside, first on the right.
Much obliged, Lord Bishop. Stop doing Downton Abbey, love!
You're doing my head in. He loves a period drama.
Ooh! Sorry.
Never met him, is it?
Vin, Bishop's won competitions all over with his cars,
but not in the last three years.
He's also pictured with Hardwick and other lads, smiling away.
Look at this.
What the fuck? What do you reckon, bit of beef?
Looks that way, yeah.
Oi! Good luck!
Nice one, fella.
Slippery bastard. What are you up to?
Oh, you've got Rod Stewart on here!
That is awful. You should be ashamed of yourself.
That was for a party, to be fair.
What about The Beautiful South, was that for a party as well?
What the fuck is Bro‐se?
Bros!
Bros?
No, Bros. Bros?
Put Bros on, they are my fave. I promise you're going to love it.
Oh, God.
# When will I, will I be famous?
As bad as I thought.
Oh, my God, come on! Let the music run through your veins.
No way are you getting me dancing.
Let the brothers Bros enter you. No, thank you.
Come on! Just don't worry about what anyone thinks.
Come on!
OK! Come on!
Shake your ass. Pretend nobody's watching.
What would Bros have done if they worried about what people thought?
This song wouldn't exist.
# I can't answer that! #
You're mad.
# When will I, will I be famous?
# I can't answer, I can't answer that #
(CAR HORNS TOOT)
That X there, that's where we are now. All right?
The in‐competition cars, they're going to be...
..there. Why?
Why? They're going to line up alphabetically.
Alphabetical to what though?
The name of the owner or the make of car?
It's the name of the owner. Hardwick's a piece of piss cos...
It's halfway, in't it? You're not good with letters, buddy.
I'm not good with letters.
Zuh... Zed.
Zed... That's our getaway. Through the gate, gravel path, we're gone.
What's that Q? That Q...
..is the cake stall in case we get hungry.
We're not going for cakes! We're robbing classic cars, bell end.
We are trying to be a cool criminal.
Check your walkie‐talkies. Let's have a go on them.
Testing, testing.
Mine's not working. Have you turned it on?
No, where's on? Big fucking orange button.
Do we know what were doing? Yeah.
All right, sound enough. Positions, then.
Give it here. Do you know what you're doing, you?
No. No.
Get up there, you. Get up there and behave yourself.
Cardi, nice one. Behave yourself.
Will do.
No cakes, dude, I'm serious. OK, OK.
Hiya.
Oh, hi.
I've brought you a...
Yeah, thanks.
It's a latte. If that's OK.
Didn't put sugar in. No, that's fine, thanks.
So I... I've called you a couple of times and...
..Whatsapped. Yeah, I know.
I know you have actually. And...
I've been meaning to ring you.
But...the thing is...
..my mum is ill.
Yeah.
And um... It's in her...pancreas.
So I had to go and visit her.
Right.
Pancreas? Yeah, yeah.
Interestingly, the man who discovered the pancreatic duct,
he got murdered in a disagreement with another man
who claimed he discovered it first.
Is it because you think I just want a baby?
No.
Your mum's not sick, is she?
You just haven't called
because you want to pretend that it didn't happen.
I'm sorry. Is it because of my job?
No. Then what?
You know what? Just fuck off, JJ.
I thought you were different.
You're just like all the rest.
What is wrong with me?
CARDI: Positioning Teresa in the main viewing arena. Over.
Are you at that fucking gate, you?
I swear, if you are eating confectionery, dude...
All competitors, please gather for the annual group photograph!
Has anyone got eyes on Hardwick? Negative.
His cars are here but there's no sign of him. Over.
Ashley, get yourself to where that photo's happening
and get eyes on Hardwick.
Me and Tommo are going to head round the back.
Wait for the signal. I can't see him anywhere, lads.
Me neither. Over.
He's not here.
Let's hope John's taken the lens cap off! (CHUCKLES)
Oh! Oh, shit.
Where is he? He's right behind you.
Oh, shit.
Mm. Mm.
Original.
Er... What the fuck are you two doing here?
Daphne. Don't Daphne me.
First you're at my door and now you turn up here. What's going on?
Into cars. Sun's out. You're after his cars, aren't you?
No. No, that's too much.
Heeellp!
Oh, fuck, dude! You're biting my fucking hand off!
Stop! Fucking hell!
(GRUNTS)
Ow!
You've been taking pictures of me, you perv!
Don't go in there, love.
(SHOUTS)
Fuck! She got my dick!
Stop pissing around, dickhead!
Daphne!
I see him there now.
He's with the wife.
She's looking fierce healthy for a dying woman. On the cocktails.
How are you, man?
The gentleman down there, if he could move in a little bit.
The man in the purple shirt, move in a little bit.
(STOPS CALL)
Don't be a dick. Come on.
What are you going to do now?
Hit a woman? That your style now, is it?
You useless fucking fish killers.
Look, Bishop just wants his cars back.
I know you're going through a really shitty divorce.
But them cars out there, they're his pride and joy.
What the fuck are you talking about?
The cars you've given away, he wants them back.
He's paying us to do it.
Those aren't his cars.
They're Russell's. You what?
Fucker! He's using us, dude!
He's fucking using us to steal Hardwick's cars for him!
Fuck!
Because he's jealous of him winning and he can't win shit!
Useless little dick twat.
Fuck's sake. How much is he paying you?
Five grand. Hm!
Five grand.
I'll pay you six not to.
(SCOFFS)
Ten.
Seven.
Nine. Seven.
Eight and a half. Take the seven, god's sakes.
I'll take it.
Knob.
Why are you here anyway? His wife's round t'corner.
Because we like dangerous lovemaking.
Adds a little extra spice.
Course you do. Oh...
It's called living, Vinnie. You want to try it some time.
Right, well, bye‐bye, boys.
See you, love. Daphne.
No.
Nice dealing with you boys.
You trust her to pay you? I don't know.
I tell you one thing though,
she might get a kick shagging other people's husbands.
I get mine stealing cars, smoking weed,
and hanging out with knobheads. Change of plan!
Shit! We're on!
Vintage cars!
Oi!
How do you like them apples, Hardwick, you posh twat!
Come... Oh, no!
Bastards!
Get in the car! We've got to stop them!
Cardi, put down whatever you're scoffing!
We're on our way, lad! Standing by.
Come on! Faster!
Cardi, get a bloody wriggle on!
Close the gate, Cardi! Stall them!
Get in the fucking car!
All right, I'm going as fast as I can!
Go for it!
Get after them, boys! Go on, get after them!
Take that, Hardwick. Fuck it.
Ash, Cardi, you take the side road after the bridge!
Hold on, Cardi. Make your way back to JJ's.
Me and Dylan will take it from here.
Once they get onto the main road, don't lose sight of them!
I know somewhere I can lose them here.
Fuck me!
(TYRES SCREECH)
Yeah! We lost them, boys! Whoo‐hoo!
We did it! We've fucking done it, boys!
(CHEERING)
(PHONE RINGS)
Hello? Hi.
How's things?
Yeah, fine. What do you want?
Yeah, look, I've just been...
..thinking about a few things. And er...
I realise that I've just been a total idiot.
I could have told you that.
I haven't been with anyone in a really long time.
I understand.
But that doesn't mean that I don't like you.
And it definitely doesn't mean that I don't want to see you again.
I just... I need to take things slow.
All right.
So, well, if that works for you,
and you're still interested...
Well, I'd love to take you on a date, you know.
Yeah. Yeah, maybe.
I'll have to check my diary.
When are you thinking? Um...
How about right now? What?
Look out your front window.
Your carriage awaits. OK, but you'll have to wait for me.
I can't go for a date with these armpits.
Give me 15 minutes.
Maybe 20. (LAUGHS)
Yeah, yeah, that's fine.
I've got my podcast anyway. The history of the pancreas.
OK, OK. OK.
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