Original subtitles

[intro music]

[Frank] Tickets this way for the Chatsworth Express!

Come and watch pikeys making a mess of the lives they were given

by him upstairs.

And kids they're convinced aren't actually theirs.

What sounds on earth could ever replace kids needing money or wives in your face?

Cos this, people reckon, and me included,

is why pubs and drugs were kindly invented.

To calm us all down and stop us going mental.

These are Chatsworth Estate's basic essentials.

We are worth every penny for grinding your axes.

You shit on our heads, but you pay the taxes.

Imagine a Britain without Chatsworth buccaneers

who'd come on your face for the price of a beer.

Make poverty history, cheaper drugs now!

Make poverty history, cheaper drugs now!

[laughing] [cough]

Scatter!

Party!

[Frank] A good friend once said to me, Bob the Bullshit, I think:

"Everybody's at it. And if they're not, they should be."

Meaning, I suppose, that nobody is actually who they seem.

We're all of us deceiving each other, and ourselves, most of the time.

-[door knocking] -Pretending to be something, or someone,

that we're not.

And nothing is what it seems.

Do you ever give up, Tom?

Please, not now.

Don't flatter yourself.

-Where's Frank? -What's he done now?

Jesus!

-[Frank grunts] -Leave it out!

-What are you doing? -He's wanted.

Does he look like he's ever had a credit card?

Over 20 grand owed on his Visa.

Another 12 on a new car, two on a plasma, four on a fortnight in Dubai.

Hello? Sunkissed?

-Three different addresses. -And Frank's details on them all.

[Frank] Sorry.

Well done, Dad.

-It'll be a mistake. -There's no need to manhandle him.

[Liam] Why the bad manners?

We know it wasn't you.

So why the brutality?

Yeah, harassment.

Lorraine Kelly here going all Regan and Carter.

Your identity was stolen.

My identity?

-Have a look at this. -[sighing] Is nothing sacred?

It's your civic duty.

You ignored three summonses. We had no choice but to collect you.

Duh! I'm exempt.

Special dispensation, by-product of a colorful existence.

You haven't got a criminal record.

I haven't. I haven't? Of course I haven't!

Not now, anyway.

The system crashed and was unable to differentiate where the ID theft began.

Couldn't specify which crimes were yours.

So they all got wiped.

[Stan] You're a very lucky man. Clean slate.

[Tom] A whole world of employment opportunities.

And eligible for jury service.

All right, Frank?

All right, Dessie.

Hiya, Frank!

All right, Phil.

[Shane] Step this way, lads, for the Amazing Madchester Music Tour.

Guaranteed to see some stars.

Easy money, mate.

This clip's banging.

MC Tunes in the pink limo crib.

Manchester vibes in the area! Let's 'ave it!

-Fuck's sake! -[whistling]

How do you spell "provocateur"?

Oi, got punters out here.

You know, like, in the posh knickers?

All right?

These babies will reach all your parts.

["Wrote For Luck" by Happy Mondays playing]

Make yourself comfy.

[Micky] Don't drive too fast!

[car stereo blares]

Hacienda. Used to love it in there, me.

[boy 1] Those flats?

The Sex Pistols played there in the '60s, and loads of other bands saw them.

Not 1976? The Free Trade Hall?

Nah. That's an hotel.

Where's Canal Street from here?

What do you want to know that for?

[sighing] It was terrifying the first time.

-It's a sensitive area. -It's my role though, Pat.

This could be my last chance. I'm a good mother. It's what I excel at.

Loads of men have them reversed.

Realise they've made a mistake.

It wasn't a mistake. We've had enough for a hurling team.

And lost one.

We don't want any more at this stage in our life.

We should be content with our grandchild.

-But she's not here. -She's two doors away, Mimi.

-[baby cries in distance] -[Paddy] Listen.

But it doesn't feel like enough, Paddy.

Why's she always crying?

God knows what that Liam's doing when Mandy's not looking.

That was a definite error of judgement forging a union with that pikey gene pool.

Mercy, she's such a doll.

[baby cries louder]

They'd be better off here.

There's hardly the room.

I'd happily kick out Scooby or Shaggy.

Maybe that's what I need to stop the yearning.

And if you're shirking your genetic responsibility.

Hey, I've been a prolific provider.

She might come home here. Her and the baby.

What do you think? It could be a plan.

Why's Shane dressed like Buddy Holly?

[barrister] The seriousness of these accusations

cannot be overestimated.

Selling counterfeit merchandise is indicative of the insidious methods

criminal networks employ to fund their illegal activities...

Pay attention!

And don't you dare drool on me.

[puffs] He's a scouser.

All day.

[woman clears throat]

Yeah.

-Came prepared? -As always.

Helen.

Frank Gallagher.

-First time? -Bored off my tits.

It can get tedious.

-You're familiar with the surroundings? -I come whenever I can.

But only the public gallery.

Yeah, been a regular myself.

Only the cheap seats, though. If you know what I mean.

[barrister] I would imagine if I were selling counterfeit goods

to raise funds for a terrorist cell or a drug cartel,

I would also be afraid to assist the police in their enquiries.

["Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before" by The Smiths playing]

This is where The Smiths met.

They sometimes come back round here for inspiration and whatnot.

[Micky] Look! There he is.

That's Morrissey.

-No way! -Wow.

Bloody hell!

[giggling]

[Micky] Did you see him? I told you...

I just don't know who you might run into round here if you're lucky.

-Way! -[boy 2] What!

This is mental. All right?

-[boy 2] Hello, mate. -All right.

[camera shutter]

What's that knobhead waving at?

[indistinct chatter]

Liam's good as gold! He's brilliant with Katie.

[Paddy] I'm sure he is, sweetheart.

Your mother's just feeling sensitive. We hear Katie crying a lot.

It's what happens when children compete.

She's just going through a phase.

Talking about having another baby.

[puffs] No danger there.

But she's got this notion that you and Katie moving in

will be an adequate surrogate.

There's no space. She's in her own bed.

I understand.

[kiss] But you know your mother. She wants her little girls home.

That looked a bit serious. Daddy and his princess getting along?

Would you move back home?

-I might need a favour. -All right.

[all] ♪Ooh, aah, ooh, aah! ♪ ♪ Ooh, aah, Cantona! ♪

♪ Ooh, aah, the Cantona! ♪

[giggling] Yeah, man. Yeah, me mate can get you tickets.

Yeah. That's who he named the band after. As well as the ginger pubes on his head.

He still visits his family round there. These were his local shops.

-[boy 2] Where's he live now? -How should I know?

[boy 2] I've heard he's got a place in Milan.

Wit woo.

Simply Red wasn't exactly Madchester, though.

Who says?

Well, everybody.

Go, go, go!

[boy 1] Neither was Morrissey, as it happens.

He definitely was.

Look! Look! Take some photos! Mick Hucknall in the area!

[Micky] Two out of two.

Did you see him? That was ace. Tell all your mates.

-[boy 1] No way! -[boy 2] Kerching!

[boy 1] Wow!

[barrister] With offices around the country,

invariably pointing to sellers like this being involved in something more sinister.

The higher up the chain of supply we're able to venture...

-There's a strong case against him. -[puffs]

Liverpool. City of Vultures. The whole town's counterfeit.

They all wear fake clothes?

No, it's a simile. But probably.

Chipmunk-Cilla's features. Tarby's "humour"?

"Community spirit in the face of adversity."

How many of them actually work?

Dark Side Of The Moon while smoking weed, playing Xboxes all day long.

Nothing is as it seems down the East Lancs...

Fake football shirts, Helen, are the tip of his particular iceberg.

The slave trade. The Three Graces.

Icing on the crown of the Scouse nation.

-My dad's from Liverpool. -No offence.

It's okay.

I never really thought of it like that.

[snickering]

[Carrie moans] Oh! Yes!

[passionately] Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes!

[Bill moans]

[Bill] Bingo! [sighs deeply]

-You're on lates? -Still got plenty to do.

Coffee?

Sorry about any confusion yesterday.

[Tom] Frank? Frank, come on.

[Maxine grunting]

Frank, you've got a lift to court.

-Frank! -Let him have it! Let him have it!

-What is your problem? -Stalker!

[Frank] Been reading Catcher In The Rye?

It's a misunderstanding. I just came to give him a lift.

Is that a copper's job? Or has he been fast-tracked to judge?

And to apologise for yesterday. Being rough.

Get past it, Tom. We're o-v-e-r.

You're freaking me out now.

[car stereo blares]

-No, thanks. -It's all right.

It's not really my thing.

But it makes the tour more real if you know what I mean.

Without these little beauties, there wouldn't be a Madchester!

I said, I'm not interested.

[woman] Check!

[officers giggling]

How's that funny?

[Stan laughing] Can't you take a joke?

Do you think that's funny, Bill?

Men taking advantage of pubescent girls?

All the same.

[Stan] I was just trying to lighten the mood.

Make you smile.

But you shouldn't have gone round there this morning.

It won't do either of you any good.

I mean, Frank can't expect a--Urgh!

-What's that? -[Tom laughs]

-You cheeky little-- -Touché.

-You don't know what you've started. -What I started?

[Micky grunts]

-What you up to? -It's a free country.

-Who are these? -Mates.

-You two okay? -They're sound.

I asked them.

[Carrie] Girls?

[girl] We're fine, thanks.

Can't switch off. Needs a truncheon up her--Aaagh!

Not the day for it, Maguire.

Agh, fuck!

[Frank] The classic syndrome, Helen.

Rob their pensions, medical cover... And who ends up with the yacht,

-Ferrari and Spanish villa? -Scousers?

Scou...

Well, yeah, sometimes it's scousers, the rich ones,

but whoever it is, I guarantee they won't come from places like we did.

I've never met anyone who talks like you.

I can't believe I'm here, in the beating heart,

with such wonderful people, and actually getting money for it.

Well, my pearls falling on appreciative ears

-has helped numb the tedium. -That's nice.

[sighs] Home beckon... What do you mean: "getting money for it"?

You must have been asleep. The expenses. Match your wages. Fantastic!

-Why are we still here? -We're ready now.

Look! Frank Sidebottom!

-[girl] Who? -Frank Sidebottom.

-What does that mean? -Him, there. Off the telly.

[slams]

-What? -[girl] Refund.

-Why? -Look,

we didn't say anything to that policewoman,

but aside from trying to force drugs on us,

this is a total crock of shit!

[Kelly] Where you going?

It'll be me they come looking for.

-[girl shouting] -Shouldn't be so stupid.

Hurry up!

Let me guess.

Hey, Yvonne, how much do you pay your workers?

You've got no chance.

-It's not Remploy. -I shall ignore such slander

in the interests of my business proposition.

Lend us that.

-Jury expenses. -How much?

Just leave that to me. Started the job yesterday.

80/20 split.

[indistinct police radio chatter]

[car door closes]

[Carrie screaming loudly] There's no way out!

[loudly] Make it easy on yourself, and I'll make it easier on you.

Back-up's on the way.

Ripping innocent people off again?

You lot never learn.

[wood creaking]

I've called the dogs,

so, if you don't want an Alsatian's teeth around your member...

[Micky] Oh!

[Micky screams]

I'm blind!

I'm blind! My eyes!

[Micky] What was that for?

[Carrie] Right, get up, Saul. I'll support ya.

-[Carrie] Come on! -[Micky struggling]

[Carrie screams]

-What's happened? -What's it look like? [sobbing]

-I can't see! -Stop whining and pull me out!

-[grunting] -You're stuck.

[Micky] Argh!

[judge] I shall now ask the jury to retire, and consider their verdict.

Does anybody have any specific desire to take the role of foreman?

Hmm, all yours.

Well, can I suggest we start with a quick show of hands?

I presume we're all feeling the same.

Probably be out of here in no time.

So, all those who think the defendant's guilty?

And all those who think the defendant's not guilty?

Looks like we'll be back in the morning.

[Micky groaning]

[Carrie] I can't find the keys. Now stop rubbing!

-[Micky] Just let me go and get some help. -[Carrie] You won't come back.

Well, I'll just phone me dad to bring the bolt cutters then.

Woo woo!

I would leave you here, anyway.

-I bet there's spiders. -So?

[sucks teeth]

I'm making a complaint about you on unnecessary force. Again!

[mobile phone rings]

[Micky grunting] Aaagh!

[door opens]

-Where's my baseball bat? -In your wardrobe.

-[Monica sighing] -[Stella crying]

[Katie] Mummy!

That's Stella waking Katie.

[Katie] Mummy!

[screams in despair]

[door slams]

[Katie] Mummy!

-[Katie cries in distance] -[Stella cries in distance]

That's it!

-Mimi! -What's the mad bitch up to now?

-Show some respect. -Ow!

-It's stuck. -What's going on?

[Paddy] I don't know.

If I just make room, and clear it, she'll come!

Mum!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, not Butch!

It's for you, babe. Please come home! I can't bear what they're doing to Katie.

[Debbie] What who's doing?

Damien over there, and who knows who else.

Watch what you're saying!

-What's it got to do with you? -Leave it.

-No, we love Katie. -So why's she so unhappy?

Stella cries, Katie cries sometimes. It's a small house.

That's the point. We would love you to come home.

[Frank] This'll do.

[Kelly screams in fear]

-[metal clattering] -[indistinct shouts]

Maybe the pub.

Usual, Karen.

One for yourself, and... your dearest.

Someone's in a good mood.

Well, it's nice to share the wealth when fortune smiles on the brave.

And a tipple for my delectable other half as well.

So, did the Scouser get a guilty?

-Well, I may have been a tad hasty. -Oh, quelle surprise!

They're much maligned, you know, Liverpudlians.

Cousins, really.

Many a worthy contributor for the general good.

You reckon?

-Oh, definitely. -Such as?

Ehm... You know... Grobbelaar?

Hatton!

-There was a heavyweight in his field. -He's a welterweight from Stockport.

No, Derek.

-So? -[Frank squeaks]

Who was the dizzy-looking bitch?

-Who? -[slams]

What?

Oh, um, you know... the thingy... Foreman of the jury on her way to hers.

Bit mental.

[Carrie] What are you doing?

[puffs] Smoking the evidence.

[Carrie sneezes] Stop it!

Better than being gassed. Have some.

-It's illegal! -So?

-I'm a policewoman. -Everybody does it.

But I don't.

-Never tried? -Never!

Don't know what you're missing.

[inhales deeply]

Stop!

Might chill you out.

[Carrie gibbering]

Dunno what all the fuss is about.

-So why do you keep laughing then? -[both giggle]

[sirens wailing]

[Carrie] How come I've never seen you with a girlfriend?

I've never seen you with a boyfriend.

So?

I don't want one at the moment.

I'm concentrating on my writing.

-Can't you write? -Course!

I mean... stories and that.

Yeah? What kind of stories?

Erotica.

[coughing]

-Sorry. -It's all right.

Personally, I think it's overrated.

-Erotica? -Sex.

You reckon?

-I prefer a good arrest. -Typical Dibble.

Hardly typical! One day I'll be far from here.

Chief Super, [sighs] somewhere fitting.

Yeah. I will too.

-What? -Be far from here.

Yeah, right.

-Stretford? -No!

Go on then.

Where do you want to be?

I don't know.

Maybe California.

Writing novels in a cabin by the ocean?

Not a cabin. One of them steel and glass minimum houses.

-Hollywood starlets round the pool. -Defo.

Dancing all day, plenty of weed, rubbing sun cream on each other.

[sighs] Sounds like one of your stories.

Yeah, tanned and toned. [excitedly] Proper hard bodies.

Easy.

You'll get me going.

Well, it'll be wasted on you anyway.

Don't know.

Sounded good.

You can't be totally frigid then.

Watch it!

-You must be a bit. -Why?

"Sex is overrated". You said it.

Well, it is. Better channelling the energy into work.

Or the gym.

What about...

orgasms?

What about 'em?

Ever had one?

Course.

-I reckon. -You'd know if you had.

I bet I can give you one.

Watch it!

No!

I mean with this.

This is my new one.

-Don't be mental. -Don't you believe me?

-Course not. Do you wanna bet?

-Won't it be embarrassing? -No.

Just...

Just chill and get in the mood.

[indistinct chatter]

-[indistinct chatter] -[rock music over the radio]

[all in silence]

Got to take such responsibilities seriously.

You know, massive stakes.

Someone's liberty here.

Cost to the taxpayer of miscarriages of justice?

-[scoffs] It's astronomical. -[car horn outside]

It's probably just thingy, your foreman.

[foreman] The prosecution's adamant

that almost every time they follow the chain of counterfeit goods,

such as those football shirts, back to its source,

it's in some way implicated into a much larger criminal framework,

invariably linked to drugs, guns, people-smuggling or terrorism.

If that boss-eyed Mickey Mouser is Al-Qaeda,

then, I'm... [stammering] Al... Alcohol-free!

[people giggling]

His name's Graeme McEwan.

[scoffs]

Well, isn't it enough that our Graeme's admitted possession and...

selling snide gear? Eh?

He'll get a hefty fine for that anyway.

Rightly so!

But, as he swears, isn't it possible that he was ripped off

and didn't know the football shirts were fake?

Would he risk openly selling them on Longsight Market

if he honestly thought they were snide?

Hey, I'd give Mr McEwan ten years just for selling United kits,

but, hey, that's personal.

[Frank] Ah!

[relieved] Ah!

[man clapping] Fantastic!

[Micky] "Her truncheon probed his balls as he flicked his tongue

through the black lace of her best La Senza knickers...

[Carrie sighs]

'Spread 'em,' her deep voice whispered,

as she removed the handcuffs

to allow him access to her youthful beast."

Spelling again.

"Youthful breasts, and moist loins.

She grabbed the cell bars,

trousers round her ankles, La Senza's to the side,

hat perched cheekily on her short brunette hair.

The prisoner stood.

Ten years of press-ups had given him the body of an Adonis,

a decade of yearning and the fullest pair of bollocks she'd ever seen...

[moaning]

That's really well put, Micky.

"He slapped her pert buttocks with enough force

-to hint a threat of pain." -Oh!

"He gazed at the window, dreaming of his release,

and cried out in glory: 'Agh!'"

Agh!

"And plunged his throbbing member, deep and hard, into the grateful copper."

[moans]

[moaning increases]

[moaning] Oh my...

fucking word!

-Language! -Give me that.

-[wood creaking] -[Carrie] No!

Nooooo!

-Hey! [moaning] -A double?

-[Carrie] No! -Yes! See what I've started?

Someone's nicking my boots!

-[Carrie grunts] -[wood creaking]

-[both scream] -[rumbling]

-[Carrie coughing] -[Micky grunting]

[both spitting and coughing]

How long you been down here?

-[man giggles] -[Carrie] I'm nicking ya!

[Carrie] Oi! Oi!

[Micky laughs]

-Buzzin'! -[Carrie laughs]

[Paddy] One, two...

three, four, five.

She loves it here.

I know she does, and I do too. And it's a treat for us all.

-But it'd be different if it's permanent. -Why would it?

-Why do you think that? -It's about my confidence, too.

Moving home would feel like moving backwards.

You can't stay in that shithole for ever!

That's why I'm moving in with Jamie.

You can't!

Won't that just be treading water?

I can help out, and earn extra cash.

At least it'll feel I'm achieving something.

We can help with money.

I know you can, Dad, but it's also about my independence.

[knocking]

[Mimi] A pub's a terrible environment to be bringing up a little girl.

And what sort of example is that spoon-faced slag gonna be setting?

-Here you are, lad, 30 quid. -Nice one.

Ninety-nine, a hundred. Coming, ready or not...

[Frank] It's the grey market.

No one can tell what's fake any more, cos it all comes from the same suppliers.

You sound like a conspiracy theorist.

Pardonnez-moi, who wouldn't be?

Classic smokescreens, diverting suspicion...

[clears throat] Thingy's name... Er, Saint Bob.

New album every Live Aid. Pro Bono.

Always opposing those in charge? I bet you'd do better.

Probably legalise drugs, prostitution.

It isn't just Baghead Billy recording 50 DVDs at once.

[Frank] Baghead Billy comes in The Jockey

with a rucksack of pirate DVDs every Saturday.

Often, the big boys are in on it, so they can wholesale cheaper.

I don't think legitimate companies would deal with grey-market manufacturers!

What? It's the same people! China, India, Philippines, Mexico...

The lot, churned out of sweatshops.

Little baby immigrants knitting their fingers to their widgies

for ten pence a day, to make your handbags.

Globalisation condemning billions to... disability and potlessness.

You're diverting attention.

I'm still to be convinced

that Graeme McEwan isn't part of a wider team!

I'm still to be convinced he is!

[Frank] Okay. Okay.

Let's forget the free-trade conundrum,

and concentrate on poor Graeme, right?

He's admitted possessing and selling counterfeit goods, and he'll be punished.

Regarding the bigger accusation, let's suppose...

that Graeme does know where the shirts came from.

Even if he knew, does that mean he's closely involved

in the workings of a bigger criminal network?

The police say so.

Picture the scene.

The boss-eyed Scouser sells a fake shirt down the market

to another lickle immigrant.

What if the punter also knows, deep down,

that it is a fake?

Isn't that... some degree of culpability...

Edith?

I suppose.

[Frank] Wouldn't that imply, by extension,

that the punter who buys the shirts off Boss-Eye

is also part of a bigger criminal network?

What if the punter was a young woman who bought a pair of "Gucci" sunglasses,

and she only pays 20 quid for them,

so there's no way she could have mistaken them for the real deal?

Does it then follow that any of these regular punters,

or any of us who've ever bought "designer" clothes,

you know, at a car boot, are we also members of a terrorist cell?

Or a Colombian cartel?

Sex-trafficking triads?

The halting of which is a massive reason to legalise prostitution, by the way.

Not forgetting the brand probably copied more than any other on the planet,

the fake Louis Vuitton handbags.

Oh!

This is real, you stinking, smart-arsed tramp!

Hey.

One condition.

Not quite.

That's two.

[Helen] Let's vote again, then.

All those who think Boss-Eye's innocent.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...

nine.

Majority!

The Scouser's free!

-We're free! -[Frank] Whoa, whoa!

Hang on a minute!

Yeah, it's coming back to me now. Something the prosecution mentioned.

[stammering] It's a niggling doubt.

Oh, how stupid!

Forgot all about it.

-I'm going to have to sleep on it. -[all sighing]

No. Better not count mine just yet.

Abstained!

[Bill] What's got into you tonight?

[moaning passionately]

-Read it to me. -Why?

[kiss] Just read it to me. You'll see.

Hang on.

Specs.

-Since when? -Only sometimes.

Don't you like 'em?

[sighing]

[boy on TV] I wanna be a cowboy! Look...

Mum, Mum!

[kids laughing on TV]

[Mimi on TV] Let him join in, Shane, stop being a horror. Come on.

-Brew? -Yeah.

I've been thinking.

Please mum, I know you're unhappy, but don't drag us down too.

I've made my mind up.

It's okay.

What is?

Open it.

Me mam handed it down.

Bits and bobs from when I was growing up.

And I carried it on, with stuff from when you were a baby.

I think it's time you started collecting for Katie.

Right, here we go. Do you want a seat? What do you want?

-Malibu and Coke. -Okay.

Karen, pint, Malibu and Coke and an E.

[Karen] Back room.

Stick it on the slate.

[chuckling] These make me want to sing and dance.

-[glass tinkling] -Are you married, Frank?

Yeah.

Kind of. She might pop by later.

-You? -Engaged.

Hank Jake Johnson III. Never get to see him, though.

Because of his long hours, or your courtroom fetish?

[giggling] He's in Alabama.

-Oh, would be. Online romance? -Just letters.

Ah! Billet-doux! Traditional! I'm all fingers and thumbs with computers.

Oh, I can use one. So can Hank Jake.

He's just not allowed to, on Death Row.

-[Helen] Oh! -[tense music]

Isn't he handsome?

What did he do?

Butchered, barbecued, and ate 24 homeless homosexual junkies

in San Francisco, over an eight-year period.

But I know he's sorry now.

You want another drink?

I'm going for a candlelit vigil with the local church next month.

Should get another postponement. [chuckling]

-[Helen groaning] Well... -[Frank squealing]

[door opens and closes]

[Paddy] Did you give her the box?

No tears?

No painful adjustments

of my reproductive organs being considered?

No, she's right, Pat. And you're right.

They need to fly.

And I've had enough.

Kids, that is.

[mellow music]

-[dog whining] -[Mimi excitedly] Aw!

Look at you!

-Oh! -[loud kiss]

Guess it must be the sense of danger.

I just love the thrill of that threat.

Certain men exude it.

You exude it, Frank.

You're intelligent, but I know you're unpredictable too.

-Thank you. -It excites me.

It turns me on, not knowing what you're gonna do next.

Surprise me.

Show me something dangerous.

-Like what? -Anything, Frank.

Now?

Right here, right now. Whatever you want.

[sighing softly] Be dangerous, Frank.

Agh!

[Helen moans]

Forgive me, Hank Jake, I know not what I do.

Harder, Frank, harder!

-Bang to rights! -[cheering]

[laughing hysterically]

["Wild Thing" by The Troggs starts playing]

[all cheering]

[Helen squeals]

Yeah, baby!

[all cheering and whistling]

[Helen squeals]

[all cheering and whistling]

[Frank laughs]

[all cheering and whistling]

[Frank shouts] Party!

♪ Wild thing, I think you move me ♪

♪ But I wanna know for sure ♪

[Helen] Wohoo!

♪ Come on, hold me tight ♪

[thud]

♪ You move me ♪

[rooster]

[Frank] So, Bob the Bullshit had a point, didn't he?

Whether we're aware of it or not, the fact is,

unless we're asleep, we're probably talking shit.

I'll stay.

Stay!

Frank, where's your girlfriend?

In a coma.

All right...

I intend to present...

a case for the defense.

Go on, then.

What chance does he have in a society

that worships material wealth to such a degree?

It's not what's inside that counts anymore.

How shiny you appear on the outside

is all that matters to the youth from today.

-Let's have a vote. -Great.

Guilty?

-[all] Guilty. -Yes.

[Frank] So when somebody wants to shake on it, have this as your motto:

Me hand's me heart, me head's me arse.

Guilty.

[thud]

[people laughing]

[theme song]

The fuck you doing?

I still need love. Seven kids I've given you!

When have I ever cast it up?

You really are a useless prick, aren't you?

-I'm not. -You're going to lose her.

-I can't piss. -Clinic.

And I'm itching so much that I'm scratching myself raw.

I do this two days a week until they can get me full-time at McDonald's.

-What are you doing? -I am helping.

Fine! I'll stay in, again! Like the Prisoner of fuckin' Zenda!

-[people cheering] -[kiss]

He's not the possessive type, if that's what you're wondering.

I've only got chlamydia.

[theme song]

[knocking]

[indistinct chattering]

I'll take a 1,000.

[indistinct laughing and chattering]

-[loading gun] -[indistinct conversation]

Go.

Hey, what's going on? What's up with this guy?

Crazy bastard!