Pistol (2022) s01e03 Episode Script

1 When I need you I just close my eyes ♪ Everybody, this is the number one record this week.
We're going to just let it gently rock us into our exercise half hour.
Feel the way it sways.
Just let it take you from side to side.
Come through, Gary.
Why not join us? Plenty of room.
Uh, make a space for Gary in our wake-up circle.
That's it.
That's it.
That's lovely.
Now, everybody hold hands.
Pauline.
But you know I won't be travelling forever It's cold out, but hold out And do like I do When I need you I just close my eyes, and I'm with you ♪ - I've got her.
She's over here.
- No! - No! - I've got her.
It's OK.
I've got you now.
I'm lowering you down.
You're going to be fine.
It's OK.
You got her? You got her? Just a little bit further.
Little bit Fuck! Oi! Oh, fucking hell.
Yeah! We're the Sex Pistols, and our singer don't like hearing himself sing.
It's understandable, really.
I don't like hearing none of youse! You can't fucking play! - So what? - Yeah, so what? Get a haircut, you dirty hippy! - Fuck off! - Sing, John.
Yeah, encore.
- Who the fuck are you? - Encore! Encore! Encore! Encore! - Encore! - Fuck you! - Shut the fuck up! - What's he fucking doing? - Piss off! - Fucking idiot.
I always wanted to see this band.
But I regret to inform you, ladies and gentlemen that they are shit! You think we look pretty good together You think my shoes are made of leather But I'm a substitute for another guy I look pretty tall, but my heels are high The simple things are so complicated I look pretty young, but I'm just back-dated Yeah Substitute lies for fact Substitute lies for fact I see right through your wanker's mac I look pretty white, but my dad is black My fine looking suit is really made out of sack ♪ That's disgusting.
I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth ♪ Excuse me, have you paid? No, right.
There you go.
And the east was facing south But I'm a substitute for another guy I look pretty tall, but my heels are high The simple things are so complicated I look pretty young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah Substitute lies for fact I see right through your wanker's mac ♪ You can't pick two fucking words to put together.
- Pick someone else, then.
- Chuck it on a page - Boring! - that'd be fucking amazing! Why don't you pick a decent band, then? At least I picked the band and not a fucking word, mate.
Oi, out the way! - Fucking given up or something? - Silly cunt! Can't say I love all of that spitting, but we're getting better, ain't we? A little.
- You need originals.
- I Tell that to our rotten-toothed genius.
The only time that little fucker runs out of words is when we're trying to write songs.
Speaking of songs, do you wanna come back to mine? Why would I wanna do that? Well, we, um We didn't finish "Starman".
I think we did.
We didn't, we didn't do the bridge.
There's no bridge in "Starman".
There is when I do it.
- I'm meeting Nick.
- Why? - He's not even in a band.
- Chrissie! True, but he has got impeccable timing.
Good night, Jonesy.
Where are we going? Where are we going now? Those monitors Nobody likes hearing themselves for the first time.
- Do I always sound like that? - No! Thank Christ.
No, normally you're much more out of tune than that.
Oh, stay there, stay there.
You were having fun tonight.
I could see you up the front.
Jumping up and down.
He's amazing.
Look, singers are all ponces.
It's the guitarist what does all the grunt work, - if you know what I mean.
- I think he's dead clever.
All those sad, angry stories.
They're all covers, he didn't write them.
But he sang 'em like he did.
I played 'em like I did an' all.
I like to play.
I've been told me fingering is quite magnificent.
You want to see what's in my bag, don't you? Nah, not really.
Good, cos I'm not gonna show ya.
Right, Rotten is more your type.
You have a nice night, love, all right.
You too, bab.
Take care.
It's fucking cold out here.
John.
- Yeah? - Er, Neil Spencer, NME.
Oh, the "enemy".
You can say that again.
Tell your readers that it was unhygienic but glorious.
Ah, our guitarist, Steve Jones.
Right, so, uh, what do you wanna say with your music? Oh, no, actually, we're not into music.
We're into chaos.
Yeah, that's good.
Say I said it.
He don't read the NME.
- Too many long words.
- Oh, one other thing to mention is that our only original is written by me.
Half-witten in reference to his half.
Our Wordsmith is 'all handle, no hammer'.
- Can I quote that? - Certainly.
No, you fucking can't! The problem is that the other morons can't write music worthy of my lyrics.
Right, and how long's the band been together? - Six - Four months.
Seems more.
Right, well I predict you'll have a very long and, uh happy future.
- Night-night.
- Thank you.
Thanks so much for coming.
fucking having a go about me like that in front of other people.
Do you have a press pass or anything for that? Er, no, I'm I'm a student.
I I just filmed it cos I liked it.
Well, I'm not happy.
I should confiscate that.
No, no.
It belongs to the film school.
Look I'm not trying to make money or anything, it's just I've never seen anything like this before.
You know, the Sex Pistols, man, they're like the only thing happening in London right now, and I wanna capture it.
Look, wait! Fuck! There goes my ride.
I remembered "Starman" does have a bridge.
Bored yet? - Uh - You said, as soon as you have sex, you get bored.
I said, as soon as feelings are involved, I get bored.
Mm.
I'm not bored.
As long as we keep it about the music.
Good.
Cos I'm gonna go.
All right, then.
- Let's try again.
- I don't wanna sing like that.
We don't want him sounding like Mario Lanza.
What do you want to sound like? Well, I mean, I was thinking of a kind of Bowie-ish Elvis Presley sort of sound, with maybe a dash of Alice Cooper.
Shut up, Malcolm! Perhaps it might be best if you waited outside.
No, John needs Wait outside or I'll shove Beethoven's head up your arse! OK.
- Now, I'll just be outs - Out! When I was young, I wanted to sing like Maria Callas.
- She's an opera singer.
- I know who Callas is.
Greek.
One of the greatest.
Bit of a diva.
- I'm impressed.
- Why? Because I look like a shabby little moron who don't know a treble clef from a cleft palate? - Not at all.
- I don't, by the way.
No need to.
You're going to tell me that after wasting your youth trying to be UK Callas, you finally realised that the only person you could be was you, and that realisation brought you true happiness, et cetera, et cetera.
Bugger! You've guessed my best trick.
Thank you.
But that sentiment is of no use to me.
Last night I was myself.
But hearing myself was a bloody nightmare.
If you don't want to sing, then don't.
Performing's not for everyone.
Perhaps it's not for you.
I'm thinking I need to start being more confrontational with the customers.
Yeah, all right, pet.
Lovely.
If we're not careful, this place could become a shop.
And then really, what's the point? Mm.
Who are those for? They're for me, my dear.
How and where are they to be worn? Well, that's rather private.
I don't think so.
This is not a fetish shop.
These knickers are the spark plugs of a revolution.
How thrilling.
The proprietors of this establishment are very influenced by William Reich's theories about mass psychology and fascism.
Ah, that explains a lot.
Reich says that fascism is caused by sexual repression.
I honestly could not agree more.
If we don't start talking about sex more, and don't stop being so repressed, we're going to end up with a dictator.
Isn't that right, Vivienne? We live to proclaim, not to shame.
Sadly, I'm not in a position to proclaim.
Then I can't sell them to you.
Can I, Vivienne? Well, I mean, we can always make an exception.
Are we going to be on the news? - In a fashion, yes.
- The news? What? Oh! That's who you are! That's who he is.
You are him, aren't you? And now, it's good night from me, Reginald Bosanquet.
Thank you for watching "The News at Ten".
If I'm wearing these under my suit tonight, I'll give you a wink.
Like this.
Just for you.
That be all right? Oh, that's lovely.
Isn't that lovely? There's no returns on the underwear, OK? Perish the thought.
But not the rubber.
Isn't he lovely? - Is there a review? - Hmm? What's it say, then? Oh, I'm just reading the small ads.
Do you know it's still possible to buy loon pants? Who is doing that? We should get ourselves a pack of hounds and hunt them down.
Look at this one.
Got a big bag.
Definitely a dipper.
I'll cover the door.
I hear that Sex the shop is where one can find Sex the Pistols.
Johnny.
The Marquee.
I saw him singing and spitting.
It was wonderful.
I was wondering if you had his address? I'm sorry, we don't give out that kind of information.
Please open your bag.
- But I don't wanna do that.
- I'm afraid you have no choice.
No choice? - No.
- Oh That's right.
- Please open your bag.
- No! Get away from me! Are you all right? - I'm sorry.
I'm I'm sorry.
- It's all right.
Let's get you into this chair.
- Water.
- I'm sorry.
It's fine.
You're all right.
This is my shop.
May I be of some assistance, madam? That's lovely, thank you.
So kind.
What kind of assistance would you like? Oh Where do I start? I need so much assistance.
Every kind, really.
I will need to look in your bag, though.
You're nice.
So I don't mind.
No! - Get out! - But I don't wanna get out because I do really like it here.
Get out! Get out! Get out! OK.
I - I can see you're really busy.
- The bag! Get the bag out of here now! Go! Next time, eh, bab? Throw her out! What's it say? Typical NME nonsense.
- Yeah, so stuck-up.
- Mm.
- Read it out.
- Why? It's our first review.
Be nice for us all to hear it out loud together.
I'm not your nursery school teacher.
Sorry, I thought you were, seeing as you dress exactly like her.
Read it yourself.
Yeah - Typical NME.
- Mm.
Not worth reading, to be honest.
Nah.
Except for that last bit.
Yeah, Malcolm's gonna love that.
- Yeah.
- Which bit? Which bit again? The last bit.
Oh, finally! Now we can rehearse.
- Have you read it? - Not interested.
Oh, I bet he's read it.
I bet he's bought up every copy in Finsbury Park and wallpapered his room with it.
What do you want to be, Glen? You what? I know what I wanna be.
I wanna be in a band where the geezer what writes the words writes some.
"Lazy Sod" might be a bit simple, but it's better than fuck all, which is all you've come up with.
How am I supposed to be inspired, when my collaborators are a mummy's boy, a pleaser, and a moron? How about I fix your teeth with my guitar? Maybe that'll inspire you.
Yeah, where's all this come from? - The NME's gone to his head.
- I have not read it! Liar! Ow! What the fuck? My favourite mug.
- We should get another singer.
- Steve, can I have a word? I'm leaving.
Well, I doubt we'll get much done today anyway.
No.
I'm leaving the band.
For good.
Oh don't be daft.
- You can barely play.
- I'm getting better.
Like John.
The guy's a madman.
Malcolm is Malcolm.
Waste of time.
Yeah, we're gonna be good.
We don't have any songs, Steve.
We're a covers band.
This is so fucking boring.
I've got an apprenticeship, got a chance.
Oh, yeah, your nine-to-five, eight-to-four, or whatever the fuck it is, wage slave.
Fuck off! Is that what you want? Married.
Four screaming kids, and before you can blink twice, you're just another boring, defeated old cunt.
Sipping pints at the pub with that look in his eye, "Oh, I wonder where my life went?" My mum and dad are good people, got good lives, you know that.
I'm not saying they're not.
Oh, I know you haven't had none of that.
I'm sorry.
I gotta do what's right for me.
I'm done.
I'll get it.
Oh, well done.
Mum.
I need to see Malcolm.
There was a girl in the shop looking for you.
I don't care.
You will.
Tell Malcolm that I'm seriously considering leaving the band.
Good.
You don't even care, do ya? You think I should? I wouldn't expect it.
That's exactly like you people.
Why are you printing swastikas with your children? Ben knows, don't you? Mum and Malcolm want to not only reject the values of the older generation but also their, um - Taboos.
- Yeah, taboos.
Everything's "anti".
That means opposite.
Thank you.
Jesus is upside down, and I chose pink for this swastika because the Nazis hated homosexuals and they made them wear pink triangles.
Nazis would hate their swastika being pink.
Many millions of Jews might hate a shirt with a swastika on it.
Possibly.
But Malcolm's Jewish, and it was his idea.
Do you know why nothing ever changes? It's because people's minds are too imprisoned by lies, fear and a misguided respect for the very institutions that have exploited them for centuries.
I want to destroy all that, so that out of the chaos the future can emerge.
We don't hate Jews, or gays, or Christians.
- We don't hate anyone, do we? - No.
Except for Nazis.
And racists and fascists in general.
And people who are too boring or scared to stand up and say what they mean.
Goodbye, John.
How's that for a melody? Was that last chord a 'B' suspended 7th of an augmented 'E'? Don't be ridiculous.
Just an 'E' on the bass over Oh, Jesus! Glen! We're not in a Paul fucking McCartney fucking tribute band! - It's a great melody! - If you're a pensioner! What are the chords? - 'C' suspended 2nd.
- 'C'! Right? But played like a punch in the face.
Next.
- 'F' major 7th suspended 2nd.
- 'F'.
- Yes, that's it.
- 'F'.
Right? Played like a kick in the guts.
'E' on the bass over an open 'C'.
'E'! Played like a fucking Sex Pistol! Give me a tune.
Give me a tune, and I'll give you words.
Paul's leaving the Sex Pistols.
- Eh? - Mm.
Oh.
Does this mean we get the kit back in the bedroom? No, I'll just sell it.
OK.
OK.
- I thought you'd be happy.
- I am.
Whatever makes you happy.
Come to get me kit.
Dad's outside in the van.
We just wrote a song.
It's great.
Have a listen.
I did listen.
It's horrible.
Don't worry, we'll easily find another drummer.
You're playing it too fast.
It's about chaos and destruction.
It has to be fast.
Yeah, the only thing you're destroying is my ears.
You sound like the Ramones on pills.
Your lyrics might be quite good, John.
But what's the point if no one can hear 'em? Look, if you're gonna do it think reggae.
It drives, but it doesn't give it all away.
Oh, yeah, and it is the music of the disenfranchised, - in case you hadn't noticed.
- Fuck off! I turned you on to reggae.
All right, John.
Would someone get him out of here? I am the Antichrist I am an anarchist Don't know what I want, but I know where to get it I wanna destroy the passer-by Cos I wanna be anarchy All rock 'n' roll is, to a certain extent, political.
Now, whether you can play is not the criteria.
The music is only a launching pad.
The criteria is whether you've got something to say.
- Hey, have a go.
- Oh, shut up.
Oi, I thought the point of putting me in a band was to keep me out of prison.
The point is to get up and say something.
To threaten.
The minute you stop threatening, you stop being a Sex Pistol.
We'll always have you to threaten, oh fearless mouthpiece.
True, but I think it's far more interesting for you to threaten people who can threaten you back.
Now, don't you film in here.
Put that away.
You can get ready in here, gentlemen.
Oh, look at this bunch of fucking fiddlers.
Fucking faggots! Oi, you pansy cunts! - Blondie.
- You fucking poofter! Fucking freaks! Go on, fuck off! You fucking ponce! Watch your arses, lads! Her Majesty sends her regards.
Fuck off, you little queer! Who's coming to the pub after this? Taking the piss, or what! Right now.
I am an Antichrist I am an anarchist Don't know what I want But I know how to get it I wanna destroy the passer-by Cos I I wanna be anarchy In the city Anarchy for the UK - It's coming sometime - Come on! And maybe I give the wrong time, stop at a traffic light Your future dream is a shopping scheme I I wanna be anarchy Not in captivity How many ways to get what you want I use the best, I use the rest I use the enemy I use anarchy Cos I I wanna be anarchy Destroy I I wanna be anarchy Get pissed Destroy ♪ And what a heart-warming story that was.
And now it's good night from me, Reginald Bosanquet, and Gordon Honeycombe, with all the news that's fit to hear, at Ten.
I can't stand the rain Against my window Mm-mm Bringing back sweet memories Hey, window pane ♪ That really is a great line.
What is? The one in the review.
It's a manifesto.
That quote is worth more than a five-star front page write-up.
Yeah, right.
Which quote? There's only one quote in it.
Why don't you read it to me? Read it yourself, you lazy sod.
OK, that's enough.
What? What did I do? Steve.
"I straightaway sighted a chair flying through the air.
"I thought, they can't be that bad, can they? "Then I saw that the person who threw the chair was the singer.
" That did happen.
"No one asked for an encore, but they did one anyway.
"'You can't play, ' heckled one punter.
"'So what?' said the bass player.
"One of the band said to me afterwards, "'Actually, we're not into music.
"'We're into chaos.
'" "One of the band"? Yeah, John, I guess.
He said Listen.
"We're not into music.
We are into chaos.
" That's killer.
He's a genius.
John didn't say that.
I did.
Does it say he said it? No, just "one of the band".
That'll be your boyfriend's doing.
Nick did not write this.
Just so you know, it's all pretty casual.
I wouldn't call him my boyfriend.
Then why d'you say he was? To get rid of you.
Didn't work, though, did it? Not yet.
You said I was a genius, by the way.
Whoever said that line, it was genius, you said.
Mm-hmm.
Steve - Yeah? - Will you marry me? What d'you mean? Come on.
You don't have the biggest vocabulary in the world, but you do know what "marry" means.
Marry me.
Well, would, would Look at your face.
"Oh, but, sir, it's all so sudden.
" You dope! Oh, come on.
You know I'm joking, right? Course I do.
I'm not thick.
No, I mean, I do want you to marry me.
For my visa.
I'm gonna be kicked out of this country if I don't get married, and I'm not leaving London until I've conquered London.
You wanna help me conquer London, don't you, Steve? Yeah.
I'll help you with that.
Why me? Wh Why don't you marry Nick? Because then I'd be married to Nick.
Whereas this way it won't mean anything.
That's what they all say.
It's not that kind of wedding.
Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this? It's not enough to disrespect the institution of marriage, you have to demonstrate that you disrespect the institution of marriage.
Just let me see.
What is it, a fishing net? I feel like a kipper.
It's good.
It's very good.
Oh, pet.
The bride and groom.
How long will it be till we can get a divorce? I don't know.
I'll check.
In case you wanna marry someone else.
No, I won't.
I just don't wanna be cheating on you all the time.
Yeah, it's OK, Jonesy.
I give you a "marriage long pass".
I'm getting married.
I remember looking at my parents' wedding photos and thinking how old they looked.
The weird dress, and Pops had a suit like he never wore.
I swore I would never do that.
But here I am.
Even though it's fake, it kind of feels like a thing, you know? Not really.
Me dad didn't stick around.
Never married my mum.
So, no photos.
Uh, why are we stopping? - Meeting Cookie.
- Why? Well, we need witnesses, don't we? For it to be legal.
Here you go.
You jump out, I'll park it round the back Mrs Jonesy.
- Stop.
- Smile.
Is there going to be cake? I'm the best man.
I'm recording it for posterity.
This is not that kind of wedding.
- Hi, bab.
- Whoa! How's the fingering going? - Hello, Looney Tunes.
- I know you.
You're like me.
You're scared all the time, aren't ya? "Scared"? I'm not scared.
I'm getting fucking married.
But you're still looking me up and down wondering if you could do me.
So what? You're always looking for somewhere to hide.
It's what I do.
There's all sorts of ways to hide.
No, by the way.
You can't do me.
I could do you, though.
Wait.
It's my turn, really to do someone.
Do as you would be done by, all that.
'Aw, there she is, my lovely little vegetable.
' What game shall we play tonight? What game are we gonna play? Open wide.
Wider.
- It is him - Unlucky git.
- Having fun, Jonesy.
- Fuck's sake.
We're telling Chrissie.
I came to offer - It's not that kind of wedding.
- my condolences.
You have been jilted.
He's otherwise engaged with another woman.
- What? - I just saw him.
He's not coming.
Not in that sense anyway.
That little fucker! Couldn't keep it in his pants for more than 15 seconds! That's our Jonesy.
But never fear.
Chrissie, will you marry me, please? Fuck, fine, yes.
Can we just go? She said yes! - I've had enough now.
- Oh, fuck.
Thank you very much.
Argh! - It's John.
- What the fuck? I need to speak to Johnny.
The bells are gonna chime They're gonna get related And Sid's willy's mouldy So get me to the church on time Pull out the stopper Let's have a whopper Get me to the church on time ♪ Oh.
Were you trying to steal from me? You must have had a shock.
Poor you.
See? What are you doing? What are you? What are we all? We're the bad babies that were left when the good ones were taken.
What do you mean? What d'you say that for? What d'you say that for? What d'you say that for? Who the fuck are you? What d'you say that for? We're losing the good baby, and all we'll be left with is rubbish you.
What you looking at? Ding-dong, the bells are covered in slime I'm marrying a Yankie There's snot all in my hankie - Perfect! - So get me to the church - Really is my happy day.
- on time ♪ - What's going on? - Oh, I'm getting married, Nick.
- What the fuck? - It's purely for visa purposes.
You can marry me for visa purposes.
- You didn't propose, man.
- He didn't, really, did he? I suppose he went down on one knee - and sent you flowers, did he? - Who? Jones.
Are you shagging Jones? - I'm not marrying Steve.
- You lying bitch! - Oi, fucking get off her! - Hey, that's not right.
- Not on her happy day.
- She's marrying me.
I did go down on one knee.
And there were flowers.
Right, well, you could have at least told me.
- Why? - I'm your boyfriend.
- Are you? - Ooh! Yes.
God, you're a cold-hearted bitch! - He's very cross.
- OK, enough! This should be so simple.
Why does everything in London have to involve pubs, and insults, and so much fucking confrontation? Confrontation produces truth.
Which is why, I'm afraid, I have to leave you here.
What? Why? This confrontation has revealed that there are real emotions here.
Never play with people's emotions.
Sort them out.
John! Come and kiss me, tell me that you miss me.
- Bye.
- Right.
Now I'm free.
Shall we get married? - Um - How surprising.
I don't care who you fuck, Steve.
When I say I don't care, I really don't care.
I thought we were friends.
But you humiliated me on my fake wedding day.
My fucking happy day.
And even though it was fake I wanted to fake it with you.
You're screwed up.
I get that.
And I'm sorry.
I don't wanna see you anymore.
By the way, your guitar is out of tune.
I've been avoiding you.
A lot of people do that.
What have you written on your shirt? Do you like it? "When they spat at me "I spat back.
" That's good.
Strong.
No wonder everyone's scared of ya.
That's not why they're scared of me.
They're scared of this.
You don't have to look if you don't want to.
Come in, then.
What have you got? What have you got? Truth.
"She was a girl from Birmingham.
" - I'm a no one.
- Everyone's a no one.
That's not special.
I'm an animal.
I'm a bloody disgrace.
"Her name was Pauline.
"She lived in a tree.
" Where the fuck did that come from? Steve knows.
Don't you, Steve? I killed my baby.
- Why? - I had no choice.
He made me pregnant.
Then he made me kill her.
"Get rid of it," as he put it.
But I got her back.
I saw where they put her, and I got her back.
She's in here.
I feel a bit better now I've told someone the whole story.
I might leave her behind now.
Not here you won't.
Fuck! This is my mum's kitchen.
Give her a decent burial somewhere at least.
Oh, yeah.
That's a good idea.
Thanks for the tea.
Can I, uh Mm.
Wait.
Fuck! They got good.
They got powerful.
She was a girl from Birmingham She just had an abortion She was a case of insanity Her name was Pauline, she lived in a tree She was a no one who killed her baby She sent her letters from the country She was an animal She was a bloody disgrace Body I'm not an animal Body I'm not an animal Dragged on a table in a factory Illegitimate place to be In a packet in a lavatory Die little baby screaming Body Screaming fucking bloody mess Not an animal It's an abortion Body I'm not an animal Mummy I'm not an abortion Throbbing squirm Gurgling bloody mess I'm not a discharge I'm not a loss in protein I'm not a throbbing squirm Fuck this and fuck that Fuck it all and fuck the fucking brat She don't want a baby who looks like that I don't want a baby that looks like me Body I'm not an animal Body An abortion Body I'm not an animal Body I'm not an abortion An animal I'm not an animal I'm not an animal, an animal, an-an-an an animal ♪ Echo! I'm not an animal, an animal, an-an-an an animal ♪ - Echo! - There you go.
I'm not an animal Mummy ♪ I got something for ya.
Mummy ♪ That song, "Bodies" It's good.
It's powerful.
It's all John.
I didn't wanna hear her story.
You did hear her.
She's in the music.
It's about the only thing I'm halfway good at.
Do you Do you think that we might ever, uh you know, play again? Music, I mean? I dunno.
Stranger things, you know.
Yeah.
It's like the other day.
I found this whole different live version of "Starman".
You're an idiot, Jonesy.
I know.
You wanna hear it? Just let me know.