All language subtitles for Wild.Bill.S01E02.720p.HDTV.x264-MTB

'I'm actually frightened
to walk the streets now.

'Not just in the night, but in the day.

'I'm actually scared to walk
down my own street. It's scary.'

'I don't feel safe. It's just
knowing these people are out there.

'I mean, they could be anyone, the
man sat next to you on the bus.'

'Crime is everywhere and the
police can't do anything about it.'

www.nieco.com
text nieco nieco

- Morning, boss.
- Good morning.

- Oh, God, what's he doing back?
- Morning.

Sir.

- Morning, sir.
- Good morning.

I was never really sure

about that whole algorithm
spreadsheet fandango.

- That's why they got rid of him.
- Here's some good news, though.

I've found a very
promising young Aussie CC.

He's making mincemeat of the
crime stats down in Adelaide.

- Are you kidding me?
- No, he's brilliant. Look.

What are you doing here?
Leave something behind?

Yeah. My desk.

I don't think so.

This goes back to the
'80s. It's inventory.

Are you in receipt of my written
resignation per my T of Es?

Cos I don't have a notice
of dismissal from you.

Until one of those things happens,

that's my desk you're crumbling
your cookies and tea on.

You told me you'd
accepted a role in Houston.

You quit, Bill.

I just unquit.

'I don't want to be a
foreigner in my own country.

'I live in England. I'm
an English person.'

'I remember when Boston was a community.

'Now we're no longer in control.'

'We earn money, we pay
taxes, why do you blame us?'

Voila!

Phase two, the Hixon parallax.

I have no idea what you
think you've just done.

When new cases come in,
where do you put 'em?

On top of the old ones.

Ensuring that the old ones,
the tough ones, get forgotten.

What's on top now?

The Holy Arsonist.

Four church halls, three C of E schools

and the whale in the Wash Aquatic Centre.

Great, what's next?

The Threekingham Monster.

Yeah. Likes to kill old
women in their beds.

Who says crime can't be fun?

Next.

The Boston Bandit.

- That's a good name.
- You're full of shit.

This shit works. Cops don't want
to pay attention to these cases,

they want to ignore them.

Like a bill that slips
behind the refrigerator

that they don't want to pay.
Well, now they can't ignore them.

They're going to see these red
cases morning, noon and night.

Sake...

And they're gonna have to pay the bill.

What a dick.

Sorry, Sarge.

Erm...

You were the SIO for the Bandit.

We've been told to familiarise
ourselves with the red cases.

Yeardsley, isn't it?

The Bandit.

Five armed robberies in
four-and-a-half years.

Isolated minimarts and sub-post offices.

No prints, but we've got a DNA
profile off his getaway car.

And that was after the Claxby robbery?

Claxby was a mess.

He shot the postmaster in the leg

and collided with another driver
three miles out on the B327.

Eric John Ross.

From his injuries, it seems
Eric got out of his car

after the smash and the Bandit...

Ran over him repeatedly and
mashed him to porridge.

He's thorough like that.

He wasn't going to leave Eric
Ross alive to identify him.

You can keep following
me if you like, Muriel,

but you're gonna end up in the gents.

Oh, I'm-I'm sorry, sir.

Thank you.

I've heard good things
about you, DC Yeardsley.

People talk about good cops and bad cops.

But in my experience, it's them and us.

Cops and annoying fuckers with
whiteboards and red markers.

'Right, then, for anyone
coming in or out of Boston

'this week, you're gonna hear
the music of the Piano Man.

'He's a homeless bloke...'

'I tell you, this shows us
there's more to homeless people

'than a sleeping bag.'

'There's 320,000 homeless
people in this country...'

This guy's a genius.

He's a loser.

I can't believe you let
me quit piano lessons.

Hang on!

Hang on...

"I will never blame Dad for letting
me quit the lame-ass piano.

"Love, Kelsey."

I was 11. Who listens to an 11-year-old?

You really are a shitty parent.

Excuse me.

And if we are actually staying,

you might actually unpack Mom's things.

Are you all right, love?

What are you doing here, Krasnov?

Ah. So cute.

What do you want?

200 grand in debt, this little farm.

Yeah, I'm sorting that.

I bought the debt.

Why did you do that?

They shouldn't have to leave
their home, your mum and dad.

No, I don't want any favours off you.

'Nobody knows his name,

'nobody knows where he comes from.'

'He's like Boston's Beethoven, isn't he?'

'Does he speak?'

'My mate Laura reckons he's
one of them amnesiacs.'

These are the personnel
files you requested.

Wait a minute, I said I wanted a
breakdown of all staff and officers.

And anyone else you can cut cheaply.

Yeah, I know what you asked
for. Find it yourself.

That's a terrible noise.

Oh, that? That's the Romanian
bloke from the train station.

East Midlands Rail have
him on Facebook Live.

Child prodigy, apparently.

A cleaner reckons he's a Finnish amnesiac.

Who gives a shit?

Wow, not a music lover, then.

Are you all right?

I never talked to my
daughter about her mother.

The time was never right, and...

Now do you think if I open that box,
it's a good thing or a bad thing?

Well, in my experience, we have 'em
between the ages of three and eight.

Before three, they don't
know what you're saying.

After eight, they don't
care. So, whatever you do...

Like letting her quit the piano,
so she's not reminded of her mother.

Look, I know it was you
that sent the video.

You don't like me. I would
have done the same thing.

But I'd like to know where you got it.

So would I.

But the e-mail address didn't trace.

Look, I didn't send it
cos I don't like you.

I mean, obviously, I don't like you.

I sent it because I know
you're bad for this place.

'I've been three times to see him.'

'Do you fancy him?'

'I think he's quite good-looking

'if he'd just smarten
himself up a little bit.'

Why don't you play something we know?

This is fucking rubbish.

Change it.

Argh! Argh!

Argh! Get off me!

Urgh!

Shit!

"Police beat up street musician."

Wild Bill, hey?

- Sorry?
- Christ...

Have you seen social media, hey?

#Fascist Pigs.

#Free Piano Man.

#That's what you get for hiring a
Yank with a reputation for violence.

Just a minor pain in my ass.

Arse.

With an "R".

You want to stay in the country,
learn the bloody language.

And clear up all this shite.

So, you really don't remember your name?

I told you, the first thing that
I do remember, I was on that bus.

Wow.

Next thing I know, I was in the sea.

Shall we get some air?

Yes.

We're not charging you.

We want to help. You're a missing person.

But I'm not missing, am I?

I'm here.

We could run your DNA through
the national register.

DNA?

Can I think about it?

'He won't do it.

'Of course.

'There's a lot of reasons someone
might not want their DNA taken.'

Yeah. Cos they're hiding something.

Yeah, or he's justifiably nervous.

You know, there could be all
sorts of people waiting for him.

Good people, bad people...

Victims, accomplices...

- Or a wife and kids.
- Buried in the backyard.

We know he has a temper.

Yeah, he does seem troubled, but...

That's the fugue state thing, right?

- His amnesia.
- He's running from something.

Why else would he wash up here?

You don't like him.

It would just be very helpful to
me if he were guilty of something.

I suppose, if he doesn't
want his DNA taking,

there's not much we can do about it.

Excuse me?

I'm looking for TCR Max.

It's a biotech start-up.

Google sent me here.

Google's always right.

I'm Max. But I'm not
customer facing tonight.

We're closed. Anyway,
my blood glucose is 140.

I'm the only genomicist in Lincs
for thoroughbred profiling.

So, what are you?

Stud?

Racer?

A sperm broker, yeah?

A sperm...?

Er, no.

I'm a cop.

And as you say, you have the
only DNA lab east of Grantham.

If you can DNA Seabiscuit...

you shouldn't have a
problem DNA-ing this guy.

Did someone recognise me from YouTube?

I don't know.

The Chief says he wants
it to be a surprise.

- Are you nervous?
- Yeah.

I'm gonna walk in that
door and find out who I am.

I'm the Chief Constable.

Which...? Which one is it?

Who-Who's come for me?

- I have.
- What?

You're under arrest for armed robbery,

- contrary to the Theft
Act of 1968. - No!

- No, I...
- You're also under arrest

for the murder of Eric John Ross.
You don't have to say anything.

- He's the Boston Bandit?
- Him?

Oh, shit!

Incredible work, sir.

How did you know? The Boston Bandit?

Did a victim ID him off Facebook Live?

No.

So, what have we got, sir, like, evidence?

Not a goddamn thing.

But you're sure it was him?

100%.

I just need you to go prove it.

Start with his DNA. Go from there.

Do you recognise him?

It seems you didn't want him
to recognise you, either.

You reversed over him.

A right mess.

I suppose your blood was up.

You'd just robbed the
Claxby Pluckacre Royal Mail

customer service point.

Robbed a post office?

You shot the postmaster, too.

Sign this.

Only 10% of the population
can use their left.

The Bandit could use both, like you.

Get off me!

I did this, didn't I?

I need to hear all about it.

I need to know what I am.

'The armed robber targeted
remote businesses, like Mr Chana.

'He entered masked, shot
out the security cameras,

'took the money from the safe

'and left the staff
menaced and terrorised.

'The robbery at Claxby was a
particularly nasty attack,

'as the robber discharged his
weapon directly at Mr Chana,

'leaving him with a life-altering injury.'

This is a direct result

of us prioritising
serious unsolved crimes.

Red cases, as we call them.

I am today announcing phase three.

Going forward, anyone arrested by my force

will have their DNA taken,
collected and sampled

against any outstanding crimes that
are keeping our citizens awake.

Chief Constable, you're not worried
about an invasion of privacy?

Let me think about that for a minute.

No.

- Too right, Chief Constable.
- Thank you very much.

The Boston Bandit is
quite a coup, Mr Hixon.

So what's he like, then, the Piano Man?

That is an awfully cute
way to describe a guy

who shot up five post offices,

stole a combined total of �300,000,

murdered an innocent man
by crushing him to death

with the wheels of his car.

He shot off that man's leg.

See?

It's personal for officers.

You did really well, Dad.

A nice plug for the minimart, too.

He's your dad?

Why didn't you tell me?
Why didn't anyone tell me?

My father's a proud man. He never
wanted any special treatment.

And you were OK with this case
just sitting in a file unsolved?

What, you think we
didn't try to catch him?

That man came into my home
and almost killed my dad.

Well, you should have told me.

This place...

It's so small, it's like
fucking Fraggle Rock.

What am I doing here?

Making a difference.

Presumably, for the first time ever.

Thank you.

I must say, I was surprised you called.

Well, you are the Crown Court
judge. I'm the Chief Constable.

I thought we might work together.

Oh... Fine.

Well, if that's what this is,

I suggest you call and make
an appointment with my clerk.

I don't work after five, Mr Hixon.

- I thought this was a date.
- Well...

Well, hang on. This could have been.

Hello?

'I didn't have you down
as a crooked cop, Muriel.'

What are you talking about, Krasnov?

You really didn't know?

A smart girl like you.

How was your American so
sure that man is the Bandit?

- I mean, he must have had...
- Evidence?

DNA perhaps.

Where would he have got
a sample of his DNA?

So, that's how he did it.

It's inadmissible, right?

I mean, cross-contamination,
no probable cause.

That's where you came in.

He needed a result and you got him one.

I didn't expect that.

But it's been a while.

Well, what you lack in finesse,
you make up for with enthusiasm.

That's not what I meant.

I meant, it's been a while since
I've been on a proper date.

I thought you said this wasn't a date.

I only agreed to come cos I thought
it was a professional get-together.

You're going to be far too easy to tease.

So...

- What's he like, then?
- Who?

The Piano Man.

- What do I care?
- Because it's important.

How does a man get from there
to here or here to there?

I don't care about him.

I just care that he's a notorious red case

we get to wipe off of our board.

Well, I'd want to know.

And I will want to know.

Boston Bandit or Piano Man...

.. who is he?

You'd better find out.

See you in court.

He's not in here!

PC Drakes!

Sir?

Get an ambulance!

Now!

Well, you seem OK.

Next time you decide to kill yourself,

do it on somebody else's time...

Piano Man, or whatever the
hell your name really is.

Si.

- What?
- My name...

is Si,

or at least I think it is.

Si?

As in Simon?

As in psycho?

What else do you remember?

You had the dead guy's picture in
your hand. What was that, a trophy?

Was that guilt? Is that why
you tried to kill yourself?

Do you know what it's
like to find a suicide?

Cos I do.

I'm sorry.

I didn't think.

I just wanted out.

I think I know him.

Who, the victim?

Eric Ross?

At least, my soul does.

- You mean your conscience.
- Maybe.

Is that what you think?

What the hell do I have
to do with any of this?

Well, you saved me.

I thought you'd help
me figure out who I am.

The same MO every time. Brilliant.
The simpler the better for a jury.

The Bandit's as good with
his right as his left,

just like Piano Man.

We've got him on camera. Brilliant.

We've got his DNA and blood
from a Nissan. Brilliant.

- He must have cut himself
in the crash. - Brilliant.

Robbery, road rage, murder.

All set, then, Chief.

- Chief?
- Brilliant.

Brilliant is what you are,
sir. This is all down to you.

See you all at the bail hearing.
It'll be very short and very sweet.

Brilliant.

Are you all right, sir?

The Bandit pulverised Eric Ross.

He blew off Barry's leg.

Yeah. He panicked at Claxby, they reckon.

Does the Bandit seem like
a panicky type to you?

Well, maybe he is just
a mad psycho bastard.

I mean, he did try throttling that kid.

Yeah, but he's not a mad psycho bastard.

Look at him.

I-I don't think he's our guy.

But we've got a DNA match, sir.

I know. As good as with
his left as his right.

Do you really buy that?

Hey, nice shot, Sean.

Ah, noisy German things.

I fucking hate guns.

I wanted to pick your
brain about the Bandit.

I mean, so what if he changed his hands?

Everything else is exactly
the same every time.

Well, no.

I mean, no-one's gonna
change their shooting hand.

It's not like some rap video.

You can only aim true with one side.

- Your dominant side.
- His is sawn-off.

He doesn't need to aim. Point and shoot.

Oh, I'd like to see you
try that, cack-eye.

What, taking those cameras
out first time, every time?

I don't see you shooting
bull's-eyes any more.

Here...

I damaged my optical nerve
representing the force.

Oh, yeah, playing rugby sevens
against West Lincs Constab.

Oh, piss off.

I don't know why you're wasting your
time with PC Pillock here, Muriel.

You and Jack Sparrow over there

can convince yourselves all you like,

but summat's skewiff.

And if you can't explain that,

any decent brief will
fill you full of holes.

Here you go.

The Bandit's greatest hits.

As good with his left
as he is with his right.

Yeah, well, that's what we thought.

We were wrong.

Look, if we put them in
chronological order...

Look, everything before and
including Claxby, he's left-handed.

Everything after is right.

Something happened at Claxby.

'Of course something happened.'

He shot my leg off!

Urgh!

Bastard eBay.

It'll be the death of me.

But why did he shoot you, Barry?

I mean, he didn't shoot any of the others.

He panicked, didn't he?

Well, he never did before.
He never did after.

So, why do you think, genius?

It was always the same.

Five post offices, in and out.

Apart from this one
day. Something changed.

He shot you. He crashed
into Eric what's-his-name.

Maybe something happened to his
arm during the crash, but...

Why did he crash?

I mean, the Bandit's ice, ice, baby.

And then, one day, a bloodbath,
blasting your leg off,

grinding Eric Ross into mincemeat.

Get out of my shop.

I'm calling my daughter.

- I said get out!
- I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

- Mr Chana, I didn't mean to...
- Out!

Right, I'm going. I'm going.

I'm sorry.

Lydia, it's Dad.

Yeah, it's, er, it's Muriel.

She's here in the shop asking questions.

Mr Chana had a gun for protection.

He shot at the Bandit.

- Jesus, Dad.
- You shot at him?

Good for you.

Not so good, sir. It's illegal.

Self-defence.

- And he was halfway out the door.
- Shut up, Dad.

Any weapon that's carried for self-defence

is an offensive weapon by law.

I presume Mr Chana knew that,
that's why he didn't report it.

It's not like I killed him.

Are you sure?

Yes! I saw blood.

Maybe that's why he crashed.

He was wounded.

The doctor's checked him.
No bullet wounds on Si.

Shit!

What now, sir?

The Crown believes we have a
very strong chance of conviction.

We have the suspect on CCTV.

DNA evidence links him to
the getaway car, the robbery

and to the murder of Eric Ross.

And he's not exactly pleading innocence.

Are you ready to enter a plea, Mr Si?

How-How can I?

I don't remember.

If you don't remember,
you can't plead guilty.

I'm recording a plea of not guilty.

Hearing date to be set
for three weeks' time

to allow for psychological evaluation.

How do the police feel
about bail, DS Blair?

Or need I ask?

East Lincolnshire Constabulary
has grave concerns...

East Lincolnshire Constabulary
has no objection to bail.

You what?

No fear of flight or further offences.

I see.

I'm releasing you on bail on
condition of residence, Mr Si.

Make sure we know where to find you.

The council has found you a room.

You can stay here until the hearing.

Why are you doing this for me?

You're under curfew from 6pm to 9am.

I figured you could use some company.

Not that.

My wife used to play that.

You know how I don't know who I am?

Wouldn't it be funny if I was your wife?

Oh, yeah, hilarious.

But you're not.

She's dead.

Accident.

I was wondering what that was.

That emptiness.

You've lost a lot, haven't you?

Do you think I have a wife somewhere?

No-one's claimed me.

Si, I think it's better not to know.

No past, nothing to lose.

Come in.

- Morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- Oh, you look like shit.
- Thank you.

Well, actually, you don't.
You look like a Gillette ad.

You know, when he goes in the
bathroom all sleepy and gorgeous

to shave?

Young Yeardsley, the
temptation in an investigation

is to focus on the perpetrator.

I have flipped my analytics to the victim.

25 variables, including
the quarterly accounts

of every post office.

Christ, you have been here all night!

Each post office bought
the same security camera

in the three-month
lead-up to the robberies.

The Logitech 5000.

Network ready, pin sharp at 50
metres, all from Tech Lincs.

On the ring road?

So, what, he hacked the cameras?

Is that how he got the safe combos?

I don't know. I'm not a
detective, DC Yeardsley.

- Are we going somewhere?
- I am.

I'm going home to get some sleep.

And you are going to Tech Lincs
on Lord Of The Rings Road.

You're too late, DC Yeardsley.

Eight weeks too late.

Tech Lincs closed down after Black Friday.

Shit.

What happened to this town, hey?

Amazon happened.

I'll, erm...

put a 375 on to HMRC and try to
get some names off the payroll.

Hey...

What have you got yourself
messed up in, Muriel?

You and Oleg Krasnov.

You were seen.

He came to my house.

He owns my farm. My mum
and dad, they don't...

This is what he does.

He takes good cops and he makes them his.

You should have come to me.

So what do I do?

Do your job.

Follow the evidence.

Ask Si about Tech Lincs.

You know as well as me what catches crims.

One good cop goes back again and again

until she finds what this
bastard's trying so hard to hide.

He hasn't set foot outside
since he's been here.

He doesn't even open the
door to the cleaners.

Right, thank you, I'll take it from here.

Si?

Are you all right, Si?

Are you feeling a bit under the weather?

Leave me alone.

It's the voices in my head, they...

they won't leave me alone.

What, in the other flats?
Shall I have a word?

It's you lot.

You and...

Just leave me alone.

What do you mean, us lot?

Have other cops been round to see you?

Why don't I have a tidy-up?

Shit!

It's all right. One sec.

Hello?

HMRC responded to your
e-mail re Tech Lincs.

They have a product
specialist named Simon Symon.

'You stay away from him until
we know what's going on.'

Yeah.

Stay away from him. Don't
go anywhere near him.

Yeah, Chief.

'They're e-mailing me a
picture to get a positive ID.'

Good. Erm...

Listen, can I give you...?

Officer requires assistance!

Hello?

Hello?!

- I'll kill her!
- Put the gun down.

Just like I killed Eric Ross!

Put the gun down now.

- Do you have a clean shot, Cobley?
- Uh-huh.

If you want me to stop it,
you'll have to shoot me,

and I'll take you all out.

- Take him out.
- No, this is England.

We don't shoot people, even if we have to.

That's an order from
your superior officer.

- Shoot him.
- Will I bollocks!

I'll kill her!

I'll kill her.

I will. I'll kill all of you bastards.

Cos that's what I am,
aren't I? I'm a killer.

Shoot me!

- You, get that bastard to shoot me!
- Oh, believe me, I tried.

Nobody shoots anybody
here cos it's England.

Cobley...

- Putting the gun down, Si.
- No, no, don't!

Right? It's all right.

I did it.

I remember now.

I left Eric there in the road

and there was bits everywhere
and I ran into the field.

Are you listening to me?!

I killed him!

And I'm likely to do it again.

Put it down, you bastard!

Right, in!

Go for it! Go for him!

- It wasn't even loaded?
- No, I didn't want to get anyone hurt.

Maybe DS Blair should
be our weapons officer.

Oh, I was, sir. And damn good at it.

I've done everything at this nick,
fraud squad to crime prevention.

Dickhead.

I assume we will be opposing
bail this time, Chief Constable?

Are you all right, Cobley?

'So, I take it you've
seen the papers, Dad?'

Yeah.

The English sure have a
lot of words for failure.

Kind of like the Eskimos for snow.

Anyway...

I've got to go.

I'm right in the middle of a meeting.

'You trusted your gut.

'I still love you. Bye.'

What are you doing here, sir?

Hiding.

Trying to.

And wondering how much this
godforsaken storage facility

is costing me. What about you, Detective?

I'm just checking over the trial
evidence, sir, for the CPS file.

- This is the murder weapon.
- It's the grey Nissan, sir.

And the red one Eric Ross was driving.

Me and my fucking gut.

Right, sir.

Or maybe Si is trying to remember.

Remember what, sir?

That's what you need to find out.
That's what we need to unlock.

The crime prevention officer
recommended the cameras, seriously?

Did anyone else visit Si here?

Is this how you remember it, Si?

Anything before this?

So, this is how you do it Stateside, sir?

Yeah. It's pretty common.

In a complex case like this,
we film a re-enactment,

it gives the jury something
they can understand.

Sir, Si's going to take a breather.

I got this, DC Yeardsley. Thank you.

It must be hard for you being back here.

It's all back to front, somehow.

You robbed the post office.

You shot Mr Chana. You drove down here.

No.

You reversed over Mr
Ross, who's lying there.

Sorry, sir, but this road
closure's taking a lot of manpower.

Maybe we should get Si back.

Si...

It's a funny name, isn't it?

Not really, sir. Not when
your name's Simon Symons.

Except it isn't.

This is from Simon Symons' HR file.

You're kidding, right? It's a black fella.

So who's he?

308si.

Si.

He's been playing us.

He got the name from the car.

So, my name's not Si?

Cut the crap, son.

- Tell us what you did!
- We know what he did.

He blew off Barry's leg. Bang!

And he drove down here and
crashed into the Peugeot. Bang!

He murdered an innocent man,
took $30,000 and a shotgun.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Except the trauma's
protecting his memory of it.

Seriously, sir?

He mowed a man down!

I mean, I can see how that was
traumatic for Mr Ross, but...

Eric.

His name was Eric.

We met at the beach.

He was beautiful.

He kissed me.

I got into his car.

We were driving for hours.

Happy.

He was heading straight for us.

So Eric swerved.

And I was sitting... here.

My head...

So you were sitting in the
passenger seat of this car,

not driving the murder vehicle?

No.

So I didn't do it.

You're fucking kidding me.

Right, let's get this
carnival off the road.

Hang on!

If you were sitting here,
could you have seen the killer?

He would have had to
have cleaned this car up

and dragged you over to the driver's seat.

Your eye.

It was bleeding.

Me?

Seriously?

You're joking!

Is he?

That was our mistake. The
Bandit's eye got injured.

And that's why he changed hands.

Nobody loses an eye from playing rugby.

That's just the NFL for fat guys.

But a pellet gun...

That would seriously
damage an optical nerve.

Barry Chana said you were his
crime prevention officer.

Recommended the Logitech 5000.

He said you even showed him
where to point the camera,

- right at the safe.
- For fuck's sake, Muriel!

He had the actual shotgun in his bedsit.

Yeah, I had a chat with the caretaker.

He said you used his keys.

You put the shotgun in the
room. It was your shotgun.

What do you think, cack-eye?

Huh?

Do you think it's loaded this time, hey?

What was there to look
forward to? A poxy pension.

All I ever wanted, my whole life...

.. was to be a copper.

But nobody ever tells you
that being a copper is shit.

You have the right to...

What is it, Muriel?

Shut the fuck up.

I'll be out in six months.

Oleg will look after me.

What about you, Muriel?

Who's going to look after your sorry arse?

Herbert?

I didn't have you down as a Herbert.

I know.

Herbert de Young.

I think I prefer Simon
Symons, Boston Bandit.

Are you gonna tell her?

My wife?

That I went on a sales trip,
went for a walk on the beach,

met a man and fell in love?

You said he was in your soul.

Have you never fell in
love with a man before?

I don't think I've
fallen for anyone before.

Can I tell her that?

It's funny, I thought something
terrible had happened to me here.

It turns out it was something amazing.

You thought you were a
psychotic English pianist.

It turns out you're a
married man who's gay.

Herbert de Young, your
life begins here right now.

You can be whatever you wanna
be, do whatever you wanna do.

You really believe that?

You can be whoever you wanna be?

Good luck with that, Captain America.

? You may run for a long time

? Run on for a long time

? Until the cards come crashing down

? Until the cards come crashing down

? He spoke and he spoke so sweet

? I thought I heard the
shuffle Of an angel's feet

? And he put a hand upon my head

? Great God almighty I'll
tell you what he said... ?

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