Lowdown (2010) s01e07 Episode Script

When we got here this morning, the desks were like this and Gary was moving in.
Gary Duffy.
How are you? If this paper were in trouble, which it's not, this story would really dig us out of the hole, which we're not in.
I love you, mate.
I love you too, mate.
After a series of complaints, the courts ordered the man in the flat above Alex to urinate on the side of the toilet bowl instead of directly into it.
As a result, Alex had just enjoyed his first night of uninterrupted sleep in months.
Hello? Mate, I thought you should know, it is stunning down here.
I have no doubt about that.
You should come down.
No, I don't think so, mate.
Why not? I just need a bit of me time.
"Me time"? Well, you're the one who said I should be more independent.
Mate, a self-actualised human being doesn't need to be alone to be independent.
What about if I want to walk around the house naked? You're not naked now, are you? No.
Just don't sit on anything.
Yeah, alright.
Jesus! What's happened? I'll call you back.
The wintergreen, the juniper The cornflower and the chicory Well, all of the words you said to me Are still vibrating in the air The elm, the ash and the linden tree The dark and deep enchanted sea The trembling moon and the stars unfurled Well, there she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes again.
Just press the button the wall.
What's going on? Can't be too careful.
Not exactly the most loved person in the building.
No, I guess not.
Why? What are they saying? Nothing.
Why'd you agree with me, then? I wasn't thinking.
Got a splash for me? I found a dead body this morning.
Oh, that's the best news I've heard all week.
I was jogging by the Yarra.
Wanna see the pic? Bob take it? No, no, no, used my phone.
Lo-fi.
Better.
More real.
Yeah.
I'll send it through to Timmy and see how it blows up.
I've never seen a dead body before.
I thought you were with your dad when he died.
I got there - the nurses said he had half an hour to go.
I just couldn't be away from the paper for that long.
Right.
Police are thinking gangland hit, possibly Tony Marino.
Great! Anyone else got it? Just us.
Thank God it's Saturday, eh? Finally, we get to beat the dailies.
I know.
You were jogging, right? Yep.
I'm thinking 'The Quick and the Dead'.
'Dead in the Water'.
'Dead Man Floating'.
'I See Dead People'.
See, I'm Salieri to your Mozart.
Even if it kills me to admit it.
Thanks, boss.
The editor secretly didn't like Mozart.
It wasn't the music.
It was more a pre-emptive thing.
If they'd ever have met, he didn't think Mozart would have liked him.
You know this guy was 35? Suddenly, people my age are dying.
- And my age.
Happens to everyone.
Yeah, but when you're really old.
And you've done everything you wanted to do.
And you don't mind dying.
Show me your hand.
You've got a long lifeline there, so there's nothing to worry about.
Show me your right.
Oh.
What? Well, there's a break in your lifeline there.
Well, what does that mean? It's not broken in my left hand.
Yeah, but your left hand's what you're born with.
Your right hand's what you make of it.
So I've done something to bring about my premature death.
I guess so.
- Don't worry about it, mate.
My lifeline just stops in the middle of my hand.
What are you cooking out there anyway? I'm not cooking.
I'm burning your clothes.
What?! Just your gym clothes.
They stank, mate.
I reckon I could smell that dead body on them.
They were brand-new! Hey, another 35-year-old died.
Oh, who died? Zac Proctor.
One of the 'Life in a Bubble' housemates.
"35-year-old reality star died today "after suffering a severe anaphylactic reaction to a peanut.
" These things always happen in threes.
What things? Deaths, mate.
They come in threes.
Ooh, I wouldn't want to be 35 right now.
How old am I when my lifeline breaks? I don't know! It's not an exact science.
Mate, you can't be scared of death all your life.
When it eventually comes, you should accept it not as an end but as a beginning, like a threshold into a new dimension.
There were only three things Alex was scared of- death, pain and Bob getting in touch with his spiritual side.
Are you following me? The boss wants to see you.
What boss? Ring any bells? The peanut guy? No, not the peanut guy.
Above that.
That's just my article on the dead body.
In which you mention Mr Tony Marino.
Only in passing.
I certainly didn't say he had anything to do with the murder.
You talk about it being a gang hit.
Then you say, and I quote "Meanwhile, gangland leader Tony Marino is still at large.
" Look, the subs must have done that.
We can just call him and I can apologise.
It's not gonna be that easy.
He wants to meet with you, eyeball to eyeball.
Then you're gonna write another little article to set the record straight.
I'll have to bring my photographer.
Be back here in 20 minutes.
Thought I'd bring my lucky TARDIS.
This is what you wear to meet underworld royalty, is it? It's my washing day.
Oh.
The thing about the peanut guy was he never had an allergic reaction before.
Amazing.
Then one day has a peanut Bang.
He's alive, eating a peanut, then nothingness.
Makes you think.
Yeah.
Mate of a mate's girlfriend had a nut allergy.
Goes to an Indian restaurant, dips a bit of roti into the lamb curry, eats that roti, dead within minutes.
Bullshit.
No bullshit.
Peanuts in the curry.
You know Michelle Baxter? Yeah.
Her cousin went into an anaphylactic shock after kissing her boyfriend, who'd eaten a peanut butter sandwich nine hours before.
Bullshit.
No bullshit.
Mate of mine's mate, allergic to nuts, goes to one of these restaurants where you've got to go through the kitchen to get to the gents.
So he's walking through the kitchen Oh, no! unbeknownst to him, inhales nut fragments, collapses, dies on the way to the hospital.
Bullshit! No bullshit.
Better warn you - when you meet Tony, do not mention his hair.
It's not what it used to be.
Do you have a sense of where we might be? I reckon it was about a 20-minute drive.
North? Would you say north? Either that or south.
See, I reckon it was north-west.
'Cause I was on the driver's side, and the sun was hitting me on the right-hand side of the forehead.
It was about 10 o'clock, so I reckon Yeah, yeah, I reckon north-west.
Strange.
'Cause I thought I could feel the sun too.
And I was on the passenger's side, which would mean we were heading north-east.
Or possibly south-west.
That doesn't make sense, mate.
"You come to me, and you say, "'Don Corleone, that doesn't make any sense.
' "But you don't say it with respect.
"You don't even think to call me Godfather.
" That is very good, mate.
Not as good as your Tony Greig.
Oh, yeah.
"It's a pretty hard impersonation to do.
"But I feel I'm starting to crack it.
" You do realise one of us is gonna die today, don't you? Rule of three, mate.
Mr Marino.
Please, sit down.
I'm Alex, and, uh, this is our photographer, Bob.
And this is Micky.
Hmm? I don't want to tell you how to do your job, boys, but maybe later on, you can get a photo of us together for your article.
That's a great idea.
Bob? Excellent idea.
You like chocolate? Thanks.
You, uh You've brought great pain to me, Alex.
You make me out to be a murderer.
That was certainly not my intention.
It just said, "Meanwhile, in other gang-related news, "Tony Marino's still at large," which you are.
Well, it's the phrase "at large" I have a problem with.
It implies I should be in jail.
No, no, in journalism, when we say an editor's at large, it just means he's not in his office.
But I'm not an editor, am I? That's a really good point.
You gotta understand, Alex, I didn't do the things I've been accused of.
That'd be three counts of trafficking and two counts of murder.
Well, if you're not guilty, why don't you just face the judicial system? How can I get a fair trial? And you've already found me guilty.
Mmm.
Not at all.
These chocolate peanuts are very nice.
They're Belgian.
We've got a supplier.
Alex.
We can forget about the whole thing if you write a story that shows me as I am - a legitimate businessman and dog lover.
But I'm gonna have to ask you the tough questions or we're both gonna look bad.
Anything you want.
You OK? OK.
Did you have anything to do with the murder of Ricardo Stone, whose body was found by the Yarra last Saturday morning? No.
Mate, do you want a glass of water or something? Next question.
Have you ever been involved in drug trafficking? No.
Then how did you get your your reputation as a as a as a Doctor! I'm dying! Are you alright? Dr James! It's Alex! Bloody hell! Scissors, scissors.
Alright, hang in there, buddy.
Alright, Alex.
I need you to tell me what happened.
P P pain? You in pain, mate? P P Uh, per Per Peritonitis? Pea Pea Pea? You haven't done something to your penis again? Peanut.
Alex.
Alex! Oi! Just press the button on the wall.
What's with the alarm? Can't be too careful.
I'm not exactly the most loved person in the universe.
No, I guess not.
Why? What are they saying about me? Nothing.
Why did you agree with me, then? I wasn't thinking.
Ah.
Welcome to paradise, Alex.
Right.
So is that it? I'll never open the bowling for Australia? Nor will you play centre half-forward for Carlton.
But there was so much more I wanted to write.
No, actually, you wrote enough.
I wanted to write a In fact, you probably wrote too much.
OK.
So What happens now? Well, you can become an angel, fly around, guarding people.
Oh, yeah? Or you can be reincarnated.
Do I get to pick who I can be? No.
Or you can hang out with me for eternity.
Right.
What was the first one again? Alex, I can see you're not ready for eternal happiness.
Really? Ow! That hurt.
Alex.
Alex.
That's it.
Come on, mate.
Hey.
What happened? Well, you had a psychosomatic anaphylactic reaction to a peanut.
Psychosomatic? But I still nearly died, right? Well, you thought you did.
No, no, no, no.
I did.
And if I'd been a bit more enthusiastic about it, I'd still be dead.
I mean, it can happen just like that.
Indeed it can.
I tell you what.
From now on, I'm gonna make the most of every precious moment.
Good for you.
Alex would spend the next 25 minutes trying to make the most of every precious moment.
Then, failing to find an activity which would sufficiently fill that brief he decided to go back to work.
Hi! You've phoned Bob Geraghty at the 'Sunday Sun'! Please leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you! Susan, you haven't seen Bob, have you? I thought he was with you.
No, no, we got separated.
Hey, either of you guys seen Bob? No.
Janine, has Bob come by? No.
You got those petty cash receipts? Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Satish, have you seen Bob? Uh, no.
Our paths rarely cross.
Oh, sorry.
No worries.
Can you come back in 15? No, I'm right.
Yep.
OK.
Hi! You've phoned Bob Geraghty at the 'Sunday Sun'! Please Bob hasn't come back from that Marino job.
You left him there? I had to.
Wow.
You must feel like shit.
How'd you go? OK.
Bob get some good snaps? I don't know.
I had to leave early.
What, you left Bob with them? Yeah, I'm a bit worried.
He's got his phone off.
And he never has his phone off.
Even when it should be off.
I hope his mouth didn't get him into trouble.
Where are they hiding? I was blindfolded there and back.
Did you agree to the blindfold? No, they kind of forced them on us.
So you were kidnapped? We did agree to the interview, so This is great! Kidnapped! And now they've got Bob.
It's my fault.
I should never have taken him.
So a nice, easy 1,500 words on the whole debacle.
Bob even said, "One of us is gonna die.
" I'm thinking, 'Mob's Got My Bob'.
But why would they take him? 'Mob's Got My Bob' it is, then.
Thought you'd try to top me, but no.
I'm on the way back.
Alex did not relish the prospect of writing a story about his friend's possible abduction, though he did think 'Mob's Got My Bob' had a certain ring to it.
OK, Sergeant, I reckon this is our only chance of finding him.
It's highly irregular.
Just keep going straight ahead.
This is good.
I can feel the sun on my forehead.
Do you mind going a bit faster? You're going too slow, and I think it's buggering up my antenna.
OK, bear right.
No bearing right.
You have to turn right or go straight ahead.
Alright, turn right.
Just keep going.
Mmm, the sounds and smells are very familiar to me.
Very familiar.
Really? Next left.
Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
OK.
I think we're just about here.
Stop! Stop here.
Shit.
This the place? I think it might be.
Yeah.
This is it.
Recognise this? It's Bob's.
He's a massive 'Doctor Who' fan.
I think we should alert the public.
What was he wearing? Um, pale green pants and a faded red T-shirt with a humorous slogan on it.
'I'm with Stupid'? It was his washing day.
Bob? Mate, mate.
Off break, off break.
Bowled him! Burchill's a genius! Come on.
Come on.
'Night, Alex.
'Night, mate.
It has been believed since the 5th century BC, when Parmenides first observed it, that nature abhors a vacuum.
And as far as Alex was concerned, he did too.
Alright, a married celebrity has just spent the night with Paris Hilton.
They come out onto the balcony of their hotel room to have a cigarette.
Do you photograph them? No.
Why not? There shouldn't be any surveillance of private activities inside a building without the prior consent of those involved.
But it's a balcony, so, technically, it's outside.
Well, technically, but you're still inside the parameters of the building.
Isn't it the job of the fourth estate to uncover corruption and wrongdoing wherever it takes place? But where do you draw the line? Do you want me to stick my camera under a toilet cubicle to bust Sonny Bill Williams and Candice Falzon going at it? Yeah.
Don't suppose there's any news? Sorry, mate.
How'd you go with the photographers? Oh, look, they've all got principles.
Oh, dear.
Takes a long time to unteach principles.
Just wish I'd never taken Bob on that job.
Well, you can never tell which job's gonna get you killed.
You can make an educated guess.
You can make an educated guess, yes.
Hi.
I was looking for Alex Burch There you are.
I recognise you from your photo by-line.
Hi.
Sorry I'm late.
Hey, do you guys want to buy this pic I just got? It's a food delivery guy picking up a chicken fillet with his bare hands.
No gloves? Nuh.
Did he give you permission to photograph him? Of course not.
I attached a hidden camera to the inside of his truck.
Bingo.
Sorry that these aren't the best circumstances to take on a new job.
Don't worry about it.
I'm here for you.
Well, I've got to go home and write the most difficult story of my life.
Have you eaten? Bob used to do the cooking.
Alex's article on Bob and the Marino Gang was the most talked-about story of the year.
The sales spike reprieved the paper from the unthinkable - a merger with the 'Sunday Argus', a newspaper where the reporters wore cufflinks and had share portfolios.
What's more, it had a strong online presence, which 'Sunday Sun' staffers thought was a bit gay.
Look, I just used what was in the fridge, and I've whipped up a herb-marinated chicken with garlic and green peppercorns.
I hope you don't mind, but I used up the last of the chardonnay too.
Wow! Mmm! This is almost as good as Bob's.
And that's saying something, because he's a was a cordon bleu.
Burchill, off his long run.
Short length.
Bowled him! Burchill's a genius! Hey, hey, hey, hey.
That's enough.
Come here.
'Night, Alex! 'Night, Janet.
This was a time of healing for Alex as one chapter of his life closed and a new and exciting one began.
The thing about jogging around here is sometimes you find the odd dead body.
Really? How many dead bodies have you seen? One.
But still That would have been such a shock for you.
Yeah, I was by myself too.
Bob was attempting a bit of a spiritual rebirth at the time and decided not to come.
Oh, no.
Just lying there, you know, like a cold lump of lard.
I read the story.
It was a beautiful depiction.
Only topped, of course, by what you wrote yesterday.
Thanks.
I'll never forget him.
I loved him, you know? Although sometimes he could be a bit selfish.
Did you hear that? What? Some sort of groan.
Mate, um, one thing you have to know about me is I get freaked out really easily, OK? Probably wasn't anything.
Bob? Bob! Oh, Janet, Bob.
Bob, Janet.
Hi, Bob.
I'm Janet.
Massive fan of your work.
So good to see you.
What the fuck happened? Well It was all going magnificently.
And then I suggested that Tony pay a visit to Hi-Tech Hair Solutions.
But they specifically said, "Don't mention the hair.
" Well, I just thought, if you look better from the outside, you'll feel better on the inside.
Anyway, next thing I know, I'm tied up and taken down here.
But they didn't kill you.
Well, that's the thing.
I did my Don Corleone, and that big guy loved it.
Said he couldn't possibly shoot me.
Mate, that is an amazing story.
Wait till this comes out! Although the paper doesn't go to press till Saturday night.
So the boss will want to keep you dead for a few more days.
Sure.
He won't want the dailies getting a hold of this.
10 days later and Janet had got a job at the 'Argus', while life had returned to normal for Alex and Bob.
Mmm! Superb couscous, mate.
My pleasure.
When is a dead photographer not dead? Apparently when he works for the 'Sunday Sun'.
'Sunday Sun' editor Howard Evans recently carved out a new low at the tabloid when he pronounced photographer Bob Geraghty was dead a week and a half ago after he failed to return from an assignment.
Full Disclosure has obtained images revealing Geraghty was, in fact, very much alive and apparently quite well.
Can you believe that? Janet has absolutely no scruples whatsoever.
Well, Mr Evans, I don't know how long the 'Sunday Sun' can survive, but I suggest that you together with your puff columnist, Alex Burchill, just drove a nail into your own coffin.
"Puff columnist"? That's a bit harsh.
Yes, I thought so too.