Brassic (2019) s02e02 Episode Script

1
Where's the weed shed?
Underground.
Show me.
And you've been living down here,
have you? Since you died.
- Mr McCann.
- Ssh-ssh.
Have a seat.
You're wondering what I'm
gonna do to you, right?
Yeah.
That thought had flipped
through my mind.
I see you in me, Vinnie.
In what way?
No, Christ.
Not that way, no.
What I mean is
I see some of you inside me.
Mm Fucking hell.
I started out with nothing.
Scrapped my way up
through guile, cunning.
And I respect people
who do the same.
So if you can do all this
and fake your own funeral,
you're a man I can use.
So, this is my proposition.
I'll pay the cash and all this.
Doubles, trebles, quadruples.
You'll need more space. You run it,
but I own it.
OUR weed empire.
And if I should ever need a thief
or something that requires your
unique skills,
I will call and you will assist.
Do we have ourselves a deal?
C can I stop worrying you're going
to cut my dick off?
Consider it safe in my hands.
But nobody fucks with me twice,
Vinnie.
- Deal?
- Yeah, deal.
Get yourself cleaned up. You can't
work for me looking like shit.
I think this calls for a drink.
Oh, er, no, that's er
It's piss. Mm.
Where are you shitting?
That's what I want
That's what I want
That's what I want
That's what I wa-a-ant
That's what I want ♪
Hey-hey!
- Hey, Vin, are you all right?
- Hey!
- Hey, Vinnie!
- You all right?
I'm alive!
And I'm seeing things mighty
clear today
I'm alive
I'm alive
And I'm sitting here yelling
and doing my thing
I'm alive
And I'm real
I can breathe and touch
and see and feel
I'm alive
Yeah, hear me, all
I'm a man
Who don't care if my hair's
a bit long
I'm a man
Na na Na na
Na na Na na
Na na Na Na
Na na Na na
Baby, baby
Baby, baby
Yeah, yeah
I'm a man
And I'm red and I'm yellow
I'm black and I'm tan
I'm a man
I'm alive
Sitting here yelling
and doing my thing
I'm alive ♪
- Voila.
- Voila?
- It's a closed metal shutter.
- Yeah, fuck me.
It is now, but not when it's full of
exotic plantation, Dyldo.
Unit 51. That's where the Americans
keep their extraterrestrial aliens.
That's Area 51.
It's highly classified.
They reverse engineer
crashed alien spaceships,
study the occupants and
make their own aircrafts
based on the technology.
Right. Well, in here we're gonna be
growing weed. Industrial scale.
- Where'd you get it?
- Chinese Dan.
That slippery fuck. I know he's a
slippery fuck,
but he's a slippery fuck offering us
a deal on a unit, no questions asked.
The best part is next door's a
storage place for curry flavourings,
bloody herbs, powders
and shit like that.
With a bit of
clever drilling, ventilation,
it's gonna mask the smell of the ganja.
There's only one problem.
- He's made you look quite silly there.
- Mm-hm.
Carrot Top Dolls.
Weren't they popular 30 years ago?
- Yeah. The originals were.
- No.
They've had a resurgence, actually
Press that.
in China.
Right. And Chinese Dan,
being so fucking Chinese,
he seized upon this.
What are we supposed
to do with them?
I bought 'em as part
of the deal on the unit.
Fuck's sake! Fucking hell.
Dolls are dolls.
Kids loved 'em in the '80s.
Couldn't make 'em fast enough.
We should buy a thousand fucking VHS
machines while we're at it.
Yeah, and some Tamagotchi's,
basically.
Ha ha ha! Shut up!
We're gonna need grow lights,
irrigation and extractor fans.
We can nick all that shit.
But can we make it work
for an industrial grow, Dyl?
Right.
It's gonna need a false ceiling
erecting.
It's gonna need marking out into
grow lanes.
Properly measured, no winging it.
We need to seal that entrance,
use the side door.
Can't expose the plants every time
we come and go, but
otherwise it could work.
Yeah. Oh, shit. It's
McCann. Here you are.
- Mr McCann.
- Hello, Vin, where are you?
You won't believe it, but I'm
standing inside
what is soon to become
our industrial grow here.
Excellent, excellent.
You have twin girls, don't you?
Do they like dolls?
Dolls?
Yeah, I got a
couple going spare.
I'll drop 'em off for you next time I
see you. Did you want me?
I did, yeah.
My boys are tied up, so I need you
to collect something for me.
Yeah, yeah, no worries.
What is it?
His name's Tony Tillerton.
- That's a person.
- I'm gonna text you two addresses.
One's his, one's where
I want him bringing.
You might wanna take a friend with
you. He's a conniving toerag.
Yeah, understood, yeah.
- And Vin?
- Yeah?
- Get the fucker back safe, yeah?
- Listen
Er No, he's gone.
Right, who fancies a nice day out?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them over your
shoulder like a regimental soldier?
- Do your ears hang low?
- Yo.
Tommo, where are you?
Halfway down the country
on our way to France.
- France?
- France, yes.
Booze cruise for the Rat and Cutter.
Jesus Christ, his memory.
We told you.
It's the fucking new pills, I can't
remember a sodding thing.
Cardi says hello. Carol's given him
the full Vinnie makeover.
- Right. How's he look?
- Er an absolute plum.
The whole family's here.
I've got Carol, Erin, Tyler
and, for maximum effect, Carol's
gran Alma. Say hello, Alma.
- Hello.
- You all right, Alma, love?
Yes, thanks.
- Is that the darkie?
- Gran!
- Oh, Vinnie. The mental one.
- That's the one, Alma.
I've gotta go.
Bring me back some cheese, will you?
Will do.
Cheese, Es and as much booze as you
can fit in an Skystrider Crusader.
- What are Es?
- Nothing you need to worry about.
They're sweeties
for grown-ups.
Thanks, Cardi.
Helpful!
- Au revoir, Vin.
- Au revoir, bon voyage.
Deja vu.
Fucking French stuff.
Oi. Stop fucking about
with them dolls.
He must have done something wrong.
You don't send people to collect people
unless they don't wanna come.
- Maybe he doesn't drive, Dyl.
- Fucking tell him to get the train.
What if there's not a train line
where he bloody lives.
A fucking bus.
Look, I don't know! He's asked us to
collect him so I have to fucking
What's going on down there?
- I think I've got an infestation.
- An infestation?
- Who've you been shagging?
- Met this fella online. Randolf.
- He was kind of dirty.
- What dirty or, like, dirty dirty?
No, not dirty dirty, just like
actually dirty.
- Lovely. What website are you using?
- Shagaskank.com.
The sex was amazing, destroyed him.
Lovely little arsehole.
But ever since I've got fierce itchy
pubes now. Have yous any advice?
I do, actually, yeah. Don't have sex
with dirty men called Randolf.
You'll need to shave.
I'm Googling it, but I'm sure
you've got genital lice.
- Fuck. What?
- Could be a yeast infection.
- Or scabies.
- Crabs even.
- Extra-mammary Paget's disease.
- Could be.
Cheers, lads.
- Thanks for making me feel better!
- Right, here we are.
- Avondale.
- That's not a thing, is it?
- I spy with my little eye
- No!
- No more "I spy".
- What can we play?
I've got a game, right?
This is brilliant.
We use to play this at school.
Everyone has to tell a secret.
- Yeah!
- Yeah? All right.
All right, I'll go first.
- When I'm alone in my house.
- There's kids present.
Don't worry, it's clean.
I like to get comfortable,
grab a hairbrush
and pretend I'm in front of
thousands of adoring fans,
belting out power ballads.
I wanna know what love is
Ooh, oh yeah
And I want you to show me
Oh, yeah ♪
Why am I not surprised, eh?
- Who's next?
- I'll go.
Oh, God. I'm genuinely nervous.
I once stole a child's
breakfast from a cafe
- when he went away to the bathroom.
- Gran! Awful.
Why? He was a lardy little shit.
- All right, your turn.
- Who me?
Yeah.
- Let me think.
- You must have hundreds.
- Not really.
- Oh, come on, Carol.
- Shall I go again?
- No.
Come on.
All right
Well But it's not for young ears.
A fucking porno, Carol?
I thought this was
supposed be a laugh.
What, you're t-telling me
you had s-s-sex
in f-front of a camera and the whole
fucking world's seen it?
It wasn't Pulp Fiction though,
was it, Cardi? Huh?
And it was a long time ago. I've got
fucking pictures in my head.
- Ah, you're overreacting.
- Sure, my gran's not bothered.
Oh, well, she
- I fucking am!
- You're a hypocrite, Cardi.
You enjoy the porn but you're not
happy that your girlfriend's in one.
What was it called?
Eager Beavers.
Volume 22.
You're unbelievable.
Fucking start the car!
Fucking hell!
Christ. It's a thatched roof.
Hardly screams axe-wielding
maniac, does it?
Hey, he's got peacocks.
Oh, my God,
psychopaths like animals.
Jeffrey Dahmer had cats.
Yeah, and he also impaled
dogs' heads on sticks.
Let's just keep our wits about us.
Any aggro, we jump him.
Hello, chaps!
Fresh scones,
straight from the oven.
Go lovely with a cup of tea.
Right, you know the drill.
We're a big happy family,
off on our jollies.
So, passports out, big smiles
- and let's all pretend
- Passports?
Yes, Alma. Yeah, passports.
Obviously. Cos we're going to a
foreign country.
I haven't got a passport.
I haven't been abroad since 19
You fucking what?
Jesus fucking Christ!
Gran!
- What? No-one said.
- We're going to France.
Is this a Brexit thing?
No, it's a going-to-another-
fucking-country thing.
Tommo!
I I've got my pension book.
Yeah, you show 'em that, I'll show
'em my gym pass,
and he can show 'em his Costa
fucking coffee card!
- She's getting out.
- You can't throw her out.
We won't get through, will we,
without her passport?
I'm not turning round, Carol, cos
it's taken fucking hours.
We can't throw her out
in the middle of nowhere.
It's not nowhere.
It's Folkestone.
There's hotels, a harbour, she'll
have a great time.
You go too and make
a p-porno while you wait.
- Grow up.
- There's a market for that.
- Gummy BJs and that.
- What's a porno?
It's a grown-up film.
- With sex.
- Tommo!
What? Was that or
was that not factually accurate?
Let's just think
this through.
Why don't we explain what happened
and see if there's
anything they can do?
- Like what?
- I don't know!
I'm trying to think
of ways to make it work.
- She could hide in the caravan.
- No, sweetheart, she can't.
- Why not?
- Yeah, actually. Why not?
No!
No, no, Carol, think about it.
The lad's come up with a masterplan.
- Hide me?
- Yes, love, in the bog.
I'm not hiding in the bathroom.
- Under the b-bed then.
- No!
No, Carol. They'll look at us and
assume we're two couples.
- They won't look for someone else.
- Then why bring her along?
I'm beginning to wonder that myself.
It's the caravan or nothing.
Put these
over here and it turns out
there is absolutely loads of room.
There you go.
- I'll never get in there.
- You will, pull your knees up.
- I'm not happy about this.
- It's a few hours
and then we're in France.
You know what? Pretend it's an
adventure. Pretend it's the war
- and you're hiding from the Nazis.
- But what if they search it?
- Haven't they got infrared cameras?
- Don't you worry.
They don't pick up old ladies,
your bones are too hollow. Come on.
We'll say you've got dementia
and climbed in
when we weren't looking.
- Are you OK, Grammy?
- Give her a pillow.
Yeah. Do you want some water, love,
and maybe a snack?
Ah, just put the bloody lid on.
- Can I go in the other side?
- No, you can't.
Grammy? What grammy?
Cunt.
So it all started as my cover story,
so that I could just get a few hours
here and there away from the wife.
You know, "Just going through to
play with the train set, dear."
And then I would just come in here,
through there,
and er and do the er
Terence work.
I had to spend a bit of time on the
train set in case she came in
and er, so I started ordering bits
and bobs
Er don't touch it.
No, you've derailed the diesel.
I'd ordered bits and bobs
on the interweb
and I really got into it.
When you see that train zooming
around the track
it can be quite therapeutic.
- Excuse me. Erm, Mr Tillerton.
- Mm?
Can I try this out?
I've just always really wanted to
fire one of these.
They're essentially
decorative, old chum.
There's bullets.
Well, be my guest. But just make
sure you do it out the back.
You ever make them crash?
- I beg your pardon?
- Do you ever make them
sort of smash into each other?
Why would I do that?
For fun.
"They're heading towards each other."
Psshww! Smash. Casualties.
Carnage. "I've lost a leg! Oh!"
You know, "I got separated from the
group."
"Oh, my children, where have they gone?
Where are my children?"
No.
So your wife has no idea
that you do illegal tech fraud?
Oh, absolutely, blissfully unaware.
We have a wonderful retirement.
God knows where she thinks
the money comes from.
What the Shit!..fuck?
Oh, well, fuck.
- It was coming for me.
- It's a peacock!
- It was coming for me.
- Whoa, whoa, put the fucking gun down.
This is Struan.
He's my favourite.
I'm really sorry. I'm
a fish-lover.
I hate hurting animals.
They'll all tell you.
- I've had this bird in my bed.
- Oh.
I can't
Not like that, no.
- Curled up like a dog.
- Still weird.
He was coming for me.
- Stop saying that!
- All right, shall we er
- Oh, Struan
- Shall we get going?
- Come on, Tony.
- Struan.
I know. Poor Struan.
- Come on.
- I'll never see his like again.
I know, I know.
- Come on.
- Oh, Struan.
Come and have a cup of tea.
I know. It's a shame. Come on,
you'll see him again.
Who is that boy that shot him?
What's his name?
JJ.
- He didn't mean to do it.
- JJ.
Bellend. Oi! Get the fuck up here.
Yes, I'm just leaving a note for the
lady wife about er Struan. Um
Would you boys mind awfully if I had
a little tinkle before we go,
- if it's a long drive.
- Yeah, all right. No worries.
Thank you.
Go with him.
Go with him?
- Go with him. He might be up to summat.
- Like what?
Well, I don't know. But Terence said
he were conniving.
Ah, here, he made scones,
he's hardly danger.
What is that there?
Side of your head just there?
Go with him.
Sorry there, I've gotta
come in with you.
- Come in with me?
- Yeah. It's just
Just in case, like.
- Right.
- If it's just a number one,
I'll just stand with
my back to you, so
OK, right. Er
I've just got to warn you
I've got shy bladder syndrome, so
- Right, yeah. Yeah, shy bladder.
- Uh-huh.
I'm ever so sorry.
I can feel it in the pipe,
just can't coax it out.
No worries. Is there Is there
anything I can do to help?
Like what?
I dunno. Run some water
or whistle or something.
Well, if you like, yes.
Oh, no, no, no. Ooh, no.
No, that's that's not helping.
It's gone right back up into the
bladder. I'll try the tap, so.
Oh, yeah, I think were on the w
We're going
Oh, no! It's gone
back up again.
For Christ's sake. What?
What are you doing?
We're in t'van.
He's got shy bladder syndrome.
Shy bladder syndrome!
That's not a thing.
- Tell him we've gotta go.
- We've gotta go.
I'm bursting.
Why don't I just leave him to piss?
- I'll stand the other side of the door.
- Fine.
- Just gonna lock the door, thanks.
- OK.
Way I see it, right, life's all
about perception.
Two hours ago you didn't know your
girlfriend's chuff were out there
for every Tom, Dick and Harry
to wazz over
and you were happy in your
ignorance.
- Yeah, but now I do.
- Right, so pretend you don't.
- How?
- Tell your brain it never happened.
Tell your brain that
she didn't nosh a massive-cocked
guy with the cameras rolling
and there aren't
thousands of people
- who've wanked themselves into oblivion
- Tommo.
- Y-you're not helping.
- Fine, torture yourself.
But there is nothing you can do or
say that's gonna change things.
- There is, actually.
- What's that?
- I wanna see it.
- All right.
- I wanna see the f-film.
- Yeah?
- Think you're up to it, do you?
- Yeah.
You can handle what comes
out of that Pandora's box?
- Whatever comes up.
- OK.
Your wish is my command.
Rub that lamp,
see what comes out.
Thank you, genie.
I'll make some calls.
Bonjour.
- I'm from Cornwall.
- In that case
Thas it, my lover,
get on my cock!
Passports.
- Have a good trip.
- Will do.
Just er wish my dear old gran
could have been here.
- Piece of piss.
- Why would you do that?
Why even mention her?
Having a bit of fun.
Relax, we're through.
When can we let Grammy out?
- France.
- What?!
Carol, here's CCTV everywhere.
We'll get across the sea,
pull her out in Calais.
Hey beer?
Back of the fucking net.
What are all these things
doing in here?
We're doll connoisseurs.
My daughter had one of these.
I think she used to call her
Bernadette.
Yeah, I bloody hated it.
Do you know these things were going
for 500 quid a pop back in the '80S?
- See what I mean, demand.
- Yeah, then.
- Then.
- Demand.
Are you all right, sunshine?
I think it's a fungal infection.
You wanna have that checked out.
Friend of mine had that.
Turned out to be
extra-mammary Paget's disease.
See?
- What even is that?
- Well, it's associated
with an underlying cancer.
- Huh?
- Have you got any bleeding at all?
Not that I've noticed.
Itchy scrotum?
Or is it just the pubes?
Mainly just the pubes.
- And any discharge?
- Oh, come on. Are you a doctor?
Oh, no, no, but
you don't get to my age
without having your fair share of
health scares.
The main things
to avoid are stressful situa
Fuck!
Out of the van! Out of the van!
Give me the keys!
- Don't hit me. Be cool, man.
- Will you shut up?!
- Fuck!
- OK, let's go! Let's go!
You all right, Dyldo?
- Ooh!
- You fuckers!
Fucking keys, dude.
Motherfucker.
Fucker.
Well, this is fuck, this, lads.
Dude, they knew we were coming.
They must have.
Course.
They got fucking tipped off.
This knobhead down here.
What?
This is fucking you, this, Ash!
- How me?
- Fucking shy bladder?
He couldn't piss.
He was fucking buying himself time,
so he could bell them wankers.
And now we've fucking lost him.
- What am I gonna tell McCann?
- I found them!
Thank God for that
Ah, fuck. They're in a cowpat.
Fish 'em out. What if I get mad cow
disease or something?
You fucking shot a peacock, dude.
Fish 'em out.
Ugh! Ugh!
Now then, they not gonna
be expecting us to chase,
- so I reckon we should chase 'em.
- They're fucking armed.
Do you wanna be the one
who explains to McCann
that we've lost a pigging pensioner?
- No.
- Exactly.
Oh, bollocks.
Just get in the van.
- This is wrecking my trainers, man.
- There's no service out here.
I just put my hand in cow shit,
so shut up.
Bonjour et bienvenue en France.
- Mission accomplished.
- Get her out of there.
Jesus Christ, you're on
the wrong side of the road!
You fucking eejit.
She can get a plane home.
I'm not going through that again.
Hey. I've texted Fingers
McGuinness.
He's got a sex shop in Southport. If
anyone can find that movie, he can.
Legend.
Grammy, wakey, wakey,
rise and shine.
Grammy, we're through. It's all good.
You can get up now,
come back and sit in the car.
Alma, love.
Alma. Shit.
- Shit what?
- Er
I'm not a doctor, but er
I would say with quite a degree of
certainly that er
she's dead.
What? No.
Grammy! Grammy!
Grammy, no-o-o-o-o-o!
- No-o-o-o-o-o!
- Let's get you out of here.
- Has she died?
- Yeah, but she was very old.
Come on.
Why did you why did
you put her in there?
It weren't my idea. It were Tyler's.
I merely endorsed it.
Nobody's f-fault, Carol.
Correction, it's his fault.
- Or yours.
- What, m-mine?
You stuffed her under there! Her an
old woman and her on the pills.
- I mean, what happened to her?
- Maybe
maybe it were natural causes.
You stuffed her under
the bed of a caravan!
Which, in and of itself,
won't kill you.
What am I going to tell my grandad?
They've been married
for nearly 49 years.
Probably cancel the golden
anniversary.
That's my fucking Grammy you're
talking about!
It wouldn't have happened if she'd
remembered her fucking passport.
- I'm gonna fucking kill you.
- Carol, Carol, ssh.
Carol! And she were a racist.
Can we go on holiday anyway with her
just dead?
Er
No, no. No, darling.
- Where are these fuckers?
- Probably miles away.
Yeah, cos they're bloody
professionals. They had masks.
Masks don't make you professional,
JJ. They're 1.49 off eBay.
They went straight ahead and there's
not been any major turnoff,
so we just keep going and hope.
- Fuck!
- Oh, shit.
- That's them.
- See?
- Shy bladder.
- Let's get 'em.
- Fuck.
- Motherfuckers have fucking seen us.
We only want to talk!
"We only wanna talk."
What? It might have bloody worked.
What the fuck are we gonna talk
about? The state of the economy?
For Jesus' sake.
You're gonna lose 'em, Vin.
Not gonna lose 'em.
Piece of shite can't keep up.
- Not a good time, Cardi.
- It's about your gran.
Did you not hear me say it's not a
good time? What about her?
S-she's kind of dead.
- What do you mean dead?
- Dead, dead.
She's dead.
And talking about stiffs,
- did you know your sister's
- Hold on.
Done a porno?
I'll call you back, all right.
Oh, guys, this isn't good.
Don't ever mess with my peacocks,
you bunch of schmucks.
He's shooting us.
He's fucking shooting us.
Armed and dangerous.
Drop back.
- I'm not gonna drop back.
- He's gonna kill us.
I'm fucking commanding you,
stop chasing them.
I'm gonna zigzag.
Zigzagging?!
Fucking listen to yourself!
Can't hit a moving target.
- Fuck you!
- Shit!
I'm gonna fucking die collecting
an old man that can't piss.
Will you pipe down, dude?
No-one's dying.
Just calm the Oi, boys! Calm the
fuck down.
Get out of the fucking van.
Arh! Oh, Jesus, his fucking head's
come off. Brilliant!
Yeah, that's not good.
Not good?
Didn't you see the fucking sign?
- Misestimated.
- Yeah, you fucking misestimated.
Now we've got a head
rolling on the floor.
His eyes are open.
He's fucking looking at me.
Stop him looking at me.
- What we gonna do?
- What the fuck do you mean?
- He's no good to us now.
- No, funnily enough,
he's not much fucking use
to us either, you lemon.
Oi.Get the fucker.
- Fuck, it's McCann.
- What do I do?
- Don't answer it.
- Don't answer it!
Fucking genius, Dyldo.
- What if he knows?
- How can he fucking know?
Will you fucking calm down, Dylan?
Calm the fuck down.
You fucking calm down an' all. Shit!
All right.
- Hello.
- Hello, Vin, how's it going?
Yeah, yeah. Good thanks, yeah.
Never been be better, actually.
- You got Tillerton?
- Oh, yeah.
Looking at his looking at his face
right now, actually.
You on your way back?
Doesn't sound like you're driving.
No, we er we pulled over.
He needed a he needed a piss.
Oh, yeah, he's got that shy bladder
thing, hasn't he?
No, he's not got that any more. We've
cured it, actually.
He's like a fucking racehorse.
Tony, come on, lad, will you?
- Shall we see you later on?
- Yeah, the address I sent. 5pm.
I'll be there with bells on.
Oh, he's fucking gone.
Why did you let 'em get away?
Fucking gone. Took his body.
What are we gonna do now?
He's still looking at me, you know.
JJ, if you carry on, I'm gonna
fucking brain you, dude.
We have to move this head
before someone comes.
No.
- JJ?
- No fucking way am I touching that.
Fuck. How are we gonna move a human
head?
Those Carrot Top dolls. Go on, Dyl,
bro, throw us one of them boxes.
Gotta be honest, man.
I'm not sure I can do this.
You and me, grab an ear each,
it'll be grand.
- He looks a bit surprised.
- Course he looks fucking surprised.
So would you if you had your head
ripped off your shoulders.
- Ooh, fuck me.
- Smells of mackerel, doesn't it?
Yeah, that's the blood.
Or there's every chance he had
mackerel for his tea.
Oh, dude. Ugh! Whoa.
Have you got him?
- Yeah.
- Have you got him?
Fucking hell!
- That was you, that.
- You didn't stop it rolling.
Brilliant, dickhead.
- You could have broken his nose.
- How the fuck are you two doing?
Having a nice afternoon?
Why take it?
What you gonna do with it?
What the fuck do you suggest I do?
Leave it here?
I think a severed head might raise a
few questions, don't you, Dyldo?
You grab that way.
I'll grab this way.
Right.
- Shit. Cyclist.
- Where?
Cyclist, coming fast.
- Shut the door.
- Afternoon. You all right, mate?
Fuck me.
We brought a woman into the country
illegally and now she's dead.
If we go to the police they'll ask
some seriously awkward questions.
- Can't we just bury her at sea?
- Shut up. Poor Grammy.
How I see it, right,
we've got two options.
No, three.
No, four.
- Oh, for God's sake, Tommo!
- All right.
Option A, we go to the fuzz, tell
them exactly what happened
and let the chips
fall where they may.
- Do you speak the French?
- Oui.
Any more than oui?
- Es-tu trempe.
- What's that?
It roughly translates to
"Are you moist?"
Well, that's gonna come
in handy, innit right, B.?
Option B. We arrange for a speedy
funeral. Dignified service,
bang her in the oven, on we go like
nothing ever happened. Oven?
Oven?
Oven or grave.
Oven's more environmentally friendly.
So you can organise a swift funeral
in a foreign country
that we can afford.
I can speak to Gary
at Abracadaver,
see if he's got any
French connections.
Gay undertaker - there must be a
website or WhatsApp group.
C.
- Option C would be my favoured option.
- Being?
We get the booze, we get the gear,
mission accomplished. And then
we hide your granny
somewhere discreet.
- Fucking hide her?
- Look, just think about it.
We go back, get her passport,
come back here.
Then we reveal she's dead.
Voila. No-one goes to prison.
Where are you gonna hide her, Tommo?
In a field? In a telephone box?
In a fucking roll of carpet?
Obviously not
cos they're terrible options.
Well, the carpet might work,
I suppose.
You killed her, you prick, and now
you want to stuff her in a field
- and fill the caravan full of drink.
- I specifically said no to the field.
Look, in case you've forgotten,
we brought an undocumented
woman into the country, right?
All of us. Joint enterprise.
QED, we are all in the shit
together.
- You're not fucking hiding her!
- Fine, what's your big plan?
Right, brought supplies.
How can you eat at a time like this?!
- Get off!
- Oi.
Eager beaver.
Carol, nothing's gonna bring your
gran back. I'm sorry, OK?
But I say we get on
with the trip, we
make the most of the
beautiful weather.
Yeah? We pick the
booze up, we get the sweeties.
And then we make a plan
when we're on the road, yeah?
Eugh! Quick, quick, quick, quick.
It wasn't S&M,
just a bit of light spanking.
- What's that? Like strangulation?
- No.
- Face sitting?
- No.
- Nothing poo-related?
- Oh, no, no, no.
- Where's the fucking caravan?
- Where is it?
Feck the caravan,
someone's nicked Grammy!
Arrrhhh!
His words, his exact words, were,
"Get him back safe."
Not just his head.
Not just his fucking bonce.
- He wanted to have a word with him.
- "Come for a nice day out," he said.
Smoke a spliff, a few tunes.
And what have I done?
I shot a peacock
and I'm sat next to a box
with a head in it.
It's like Se7en.
It's my gran, she's just gone.
It was probably her heart, you know.
Black old heart on her.
- Always smoking cigarettes.
- Fuck!
That's what we tell him.
That's what we tell Terence.
What, that he got trapped in the
seat of a caravan?
No. Fucking ring Gary
at Abracadaver.
Tell him we're coming over and it's
urgent. Fucking go on.
That's it, like,
we have to tell the police.
Yeah Ah, mm, yes.
I, er I agree and er
I understand your logic but
er before we go down that
particular avenue,
there might be a few matters it
would be prudent for you know about.
- Like what?
- Well, A,
that wasn't exactly my caravan.
- When you say not exactly
- Well, you know, er, not at all.
It was nicked from outside a dog
kennels in Keighley.
- B?
- B? I don't actually have
a driver's license, so we can't say
I was behind the wheel,
which is a problem if they
check the security footage
in Calais and er
- C
- There's a C. There's a fucking C.
C, I have a criminal record
in France
due to an incident
several years ago
involving a couple of exchange students
and a glory hole
in a Paris cinema bathroom.
- Jesus Christ, Tommo!
- What's a glory hole?
It's a hole you put your
- Cardi.
- What?
It it's it's for sweets.
You all seem to be forgetting
that my grammy
- The racist
- is dead and AWOL.
- What if we never see her again?
- 'Ey, 'ey, 'ey. Look, look.
We've saved money on t'funeral.
Right, that's it! Wh
Who wants to make a porno?!
- Anyone?! Anyone want to fuck?!
- She's in shock and grief.
Live sex with me!
- And soon, Eager Beavers 23.
- What?
Carol!
Are we on holiday now?
What do you want me to do?
Look at us.
It's like you've been using it
as a fucking pinata.
Superficial, innit,
man of your skills, Gary.
And then what?
- Where's the rest of him?
- Fucking hell,
that's where the big favour
comes in cos we've lost him.
- You've lost him.
- Yeah. Well, no, no.
He got stolen, to be fair.
It's a fucking long story.
The good news is we do have the head.
So I say we stitch that head onto
another body.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Sew that head onto another body?
Yeah. I mean, dude,
you must have some lying around.
Yeah, I have, but oddly enough, Vin,
the bodies are still attached
to the head. They're intact.
All right, all right. So,
let's just say, for argument's sake,
one of them heads was to fall off
that body, right?
And then we get that head and stitch
it onto that body
and borrow it for like two fucking
hours. Is that deeply unethical?
Yes. Utterly contemptible,
unthinkable, undignified.
300 quid.
- Done.
- Sick.
All right, so
we've got sort of a fat fella.
And er like a thin woman.
And
a black lad.
So there's no perfect match.
All right, one of yous
has to catch it.
- Dyl?
- No fucking chance.
My gran died earlier today.
Fuck, dude. I've been fucking
lifting his head all day long.
- Quickly, now.
- This is fucked.
Oh, dude! Fuck!
Fuck me!
It went in my fucking mouth!
How am I supposed to know where it's
gonna spray? It's not my fault.
- I'm doing you a favour!
- Fucking hell, why's his dick out?
Because he's dead!
"Why is his dick out?"
- What do you want? Shorts?
- Yeah, some short something.
- Bit of dignity for t'poor lad.
- Just hold his head!
Jesus Christ, dude.
It's fucking It's like he's
staring at me dude, all limp.
Why does it smell of burnt dog meat?
It's fucking horrible.
- Why's it smell like that?
- You get used to it, OK?
And, to be honest, I find it quite
relaxing. Hold his head!
Ugh!
Eugh!
- Right, here we go!
- Oh, fucking Jesus!
- Eugh! Whoa!
- Here we go!
Ugh! Eughhh!
Eugh! Eugh! Eugh!
Eugh! Eugh! Arhhh!
- Fuck!
- Just get me the other one!
Fuck. Ugh! Ugh!
Oh. I don't know if we're gonna have
enough neck here to stitch it on.
Ugh! Ugh!
We're gonna have
to put a scarf on him.
Here we go. There we are.
Two o'clock.
T-two o'clock?
Ahead and right a bit.
- What are you saying two o'clock for?
- Like on a clock.
Fucking hell. Him there, dickhead,
with the beard and the bloody
terrible sandals.
Keys straight in his jacket pocket
Go on. Off you pop.
Go on.
Oh! Sorry, sorry.
Pardon, pardon.
Er, yeah. No, I'm fine, I'm grand.
S-sorry. Sorry.
Ah, success.
Right, where is it?
Where have you parked,
you sandal-wearing prick?
You have got to be shitting me.
- How are we all gonna fit in that?
- We've got no choice. Get in.
Fingers? You've got it?
You, sir, are the
Inspector Morse of minge.
I spoke to Fingers.
Am I or am I not a genius?
I'm waiting for my man
26 dollars in my hand ♪
Shit, that's him. Right, just let me
do all t'talking, yeah?
Mr McCann.
- Where is he?
- He's in the back of the van.
- I wanna see him.
- Yeah, he's er
He just started panicking
on the way here.
Fucking hyperventilating and that.
I think he's had a
heart attack, you know.
Open up then.
Go on.
He said he'd put on some weight.
It's probably stress.
It was very quick.
You bastard.
Cheated my fucking wrath with death,
you cunt.
This your fucking way out, is it?
Eh?
This your fucking escape route?
See that face?
Face of a traitor.
Face of a man who tried to fucking
cheat his fucking paymaster.
These the dolls?
Ha!
The girls are gonna love these.
Get rid of him.
I've weed myself a little bit.
Oh.
Um
Er, I need a pee.
Yep. I'll er just pull over.
La fille du coupeur de joints
La fille du coupeur de joints ♪
Right, dead quick. Come on.
Carol, smell that smell there?
No!
Oh. Is that a dog lead?
Oi! Eyes off, you.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
Oh, Christ.
That
That's That is worse than spanking!
Carol!
Carol!
Oh, shit! Dude, the car.
The car's
I spy with my little eye,
something beginning with F.
Oh, shit.
- All right, Vin, how's it going?
- Yeah, good, thanks, yeah.
How's the trip?
Great, thanks.
Just having a nice day out.
Yeah, same.
Lovely day out. Hm!
Grammy!
Fuck.
- Ready?
- Ready, yeah. Whoa!
Wow, that's a gasper, isn't it?
That is a bad boy. Hell's teeth.
Right.
I'll be back in a sec.
What a phallus. Huh!
Oh, God.
What about the itching though?
- Crabs?
- Crabs, yeah.