All language subtitles for Fresh Meat s04e01.eng

You don't just disappear
in your final term.

What are you doing?

I'm searching for clues. I think

it's got to the point where we
need to call someone about Howard.

It's two days into term.
And where is he? What if he's dead?

He's probably just been held up
at the border.

Not allowed back in
since they went independent?

- Scotland didn't go independent, JP.
- Yeah, I'm pretty sure they did.

He's probably up in Aberdeen,

sat on a Trident,
bathing in the Queen's oil.

Do you ever even watch the news?

Kingsley, only maniac bore-holes
watch the news

when it's not the Olympics
or a big war.

HE SCOFFS

With your pretentious imported
cereals and your big, boring book.

Infinite Jest's Notes And Errata
are a greater contribution to

literature than the entire oeuvre
of your Joanne Kimberley Rowling.

Fascinating.

I mean, I, I think I... er,
dropped off a little bit

during the sentence,
but otherwise, very interesting.

OK, that's enough
of the bullying now!

Josie, you don't have to suck up
to him any more. You're free.

No more boring Italian films!

I liked Italian film night.

Fellini is a modern master who...

...er, something, something,
something, something. Right?

Yeah. Look, JP. Right,
at a certain point in your life,

basically when you grow up, your
differences stop being weaknesses.

They become eccentricities. Foibles.

"Oh, hello, is that Mr Foibleman?
Yes, Michael Foibleman?

"A man who eats American cornflakes
because he thinks it makes him

"more interesting."

DOORBELL

What kind of time is
this for a doorbell?

That is insane.

Tomothy? Great to see you, bro,
but, erm, no heads-up?

Oh, sorry, man, yeah.

You got a lecture you need to be at
or some shit?

- Er, no, actually I don't...
- Oh, really - that's interesting.

Because I checked the geology
schedule online

and you've got a crystallography
lecture in about, er, no minutes.

- Er, no, because...
- Because?

- Because it's can celled today.
- Why?

- Because of illness.
- Whose? - The man.

- The man. Professor Paterson?
- Yes. - Who I just made up?

No. Yes. I don't know.

- You don't know?
- No, I do. I don't.

I'm lying, I can't keep up.

Well, it's third year, buddy,
finals!

You need to sort yourself
the fuck out, JP.

And that's what I'm here,
in this arctic climate, to do.

- Oh, my God, Tomothy is here!
- Tomothy is here?

Tomothy is here. My bro.

Mummy wanted Tom.
Daddy wanted Timothy.

- Tomothy.
- Tomothy has a razor brain and an acid tongue.

He is very fucking "wow".
Just act normal.

No, wait, act clever.
Talk! About the euro and... Fuck!

- JP, relax.
- He's very organised. But he's also incredibly chilled.

- He hates ditherers. He'll like you.
- I don't give a fuck.

That is just the kind of attitude
Tomothy loves.

- Yeah, well, I don't give a fuck.
- But he hates fakes.

Hey, Tomothy.

Yo. Would you like a cup of tea
or coffee?

Hmm, yeah. What are you having?

Er. What am I having? Tea.
No, coffee.

- No, tea.
- Shit or get off the pot, dude!

Tea. Teas all round!

OK. Howard hasn't even
touched his cheese.

- Oh, I'll have it, I'm skint.
- That's it, I'm calling round all the hospitals.

He's not going to be dead because of
a lack of cheese consumption.

I mean, if anything, he's probably thriving
on his incredibly low cholesterol.

So, everything shipshape on
HMS Hartnell?

Everyone up-to-date with their rent?

Uh, basically, yeah.
I mean, it's hard to remember.

It's not like I keep a big book
all about the rent.

You don't have a rent book?

No, I do. I just...
call it something different.

It's a good job I'm looking
over the incoming direct debits.

You can't be friends
to your tenants, bro.

You're a land-LORD not a land-MATE.

You need to pull an Uncle Royston,
get busy with

the 12 bore, start randomly
shooting up the grain stores.

Spread a little fear.

Because whoever Violet Nordstrom is,
she is taking

the piss like this is Nando's
and she has unlimited piss refills.

Er, I better go! Laterz, haterz.

Bro, don't be horrible to Vod,
be horrible to Kingsley.

And who the fuck is Eskimo Joe?

Oh, so when you eat it
in tiny pieces,

it's the oh-so-fashionable sushi?

But a whole raw fish,
that's unacceptable for some reason.

Howard!? What the fuck?
Where have you been?

We've been worried.

I've been right here,
since the Christmas period.

Thought I'd lessen the distractions
from revision. I've been

getting up at midnight and going to
bed at 8am, in the cellar.

And I am, copyright
of the McDonald's Corporation,

"lovin' it".

We have a cellar?

Now you tell me.

And all this time I've been storing
my wine in a rack like some...

accountant!

Oh, God, you've gone full
serial killer.

And there it is. My dream...

my nightmare...

my Killer. The Dominatrix.

Is it...?

Oh, it's just a revision timetable.

HOWARD LAUGHS

Yes, my simian friend,

in the same way that Napoleon
Bonaparte was a mere "soldier".

Like the Ark of the Covenant is
simply a box. Yes, this is

"just a revision timetable".

Hmm. This structure defines my every
movement in 30 minute intervals

between now
and my final examination.

All I must do is submit to
its every demand,

however unreasonable,

and then
a first class degree will be mine.

And my dream job as data architect
at Ordnance Survey.

JP, tell you what, you need to
get on it, like Moleman here.

- No offence.
- Some taken. - Ten more weeks.

Easter, then lectures pack up,
that's basically it.

- The party's over.
- No! It's...

11 weeks and some days.

Fuck! The fun's running out!

Howard. Why, today,
are you venturing upstairs?

Well. Er, Vitamin D,

fish oil, and today is the day that
Candice returns from her

- Erasmus term in France!
- OK?

And I will be decorating my room
with the remains of flowers

gathered from behind
the local florist's!

Nothing says love, according to the
Western romantic canon,

like decaying plant matter.

Hi, Rosa! Sorry I'm late.

- What is this?
- Final year forum.

Wow. A lot have come.

Yes. There is a lot of anger.

And they need to vent it on someone.

Yeah, no, I get it.

It's just...
do they have to vent it on me?

No, I mean, they probably do.

OK. Showtime!

GENERAL MURMURING

So! Third years. January. Hello.

Er, for many of you, these
are your final months of education.

You are at a crossroads.
You are confused. Anxious.

Now is the time to look to me,
your president, to help you cope.

For, like my fellow President
Mandela - God bless you, Madiba -

- I have written a book!

Think of it as your Bible.

But it's better than the Bible
because it's got an index of

sexual health clinics and registered
media recruitment agencies.

GENERAL MURMURING

Ogs! Can we have a word?

I'm going to take a word with her.

Can you push the whole day
back five, please?

Yeah, so, look, er, thing is...
I'm getting heat on the rent.

And finals coming up.
Bank's closed my account,

so I'm going to need cash for
Red Bull, protein shakes

and guys in Korea to knock out
my course work.

I get it. You've come crawling
back to me for help?

Well, not exactly crawling, but...

Vod, I'm the President,
of course I can sort it out for you.

Even if there isn't a job,
I'll just make one up. Rosa?

Has a president ever had a sort of -
not really like a jester -

but a sort of artist in residence?

Like that area? Yeah?

We can certainly look at it.

Really? Well, that's one way
of looking at it.

I suppose the other way...

Miss Shawcross. Miss Nordstrom.

So pleased you could join us
to share your, no doubt,

ground-breaking
thoughts on The Waste Land.

Jeremy was just saying
he thought it was a bit "short".

Yeah, OK. Sorry to interrupt,
erm, but I just wondered

if I could just jump in?

Because I've actually got
a meeting with the Mayor,

for a mayoral tree
planting at 11, with the Mayor.

Will the Mayor be there?

Yeah, he will, actually.

Er, then lunch with the MP for
Didsbury before we open the new lab.

So, if you don't mind, I'm just
going to dive in with a brain dump,

and then just leave you guys to stay
and chat.

Is that OK?

OK. Anti-semitism!

So, dude. How's the five-year plan?

Here we are, full English with
game sausage and chips!

The Nanny Pru special!

Yeah, good. And I'm on course
for a rock star bonus.

Fail. Nanny Pru would never let
the eggs touch the beans, dude.

HE SIGHS

- So, what you got for me?
- Well, I've had some ideas.

I've been Googling. And not just
since you arrived.

I think I'd like to work with lions.
Maybe in a safari park.

- Are you fucking kidding me?
- Well, I mean,

maybe just in an admin capacity,
but I like lions. That's solid.

No-one works with lions,
don't be a wanker.

Right, but I mean, some people do,
obviously.

No, you're right. What about my art?

Do you think there's maybe something
I could... You know?

You can't make a living drawing
dicks. This isn't France.

- It's time for the suit.
- The suit? - Hmmm, yeah.

- This is what you'll wear to go and
see Jonty Harrington. - Jonty Bonty?

Jonty Bonty Harrington. Mind your Ps and Qs
and he'll slide you into a job at my firm.

- So that's what I'm doing, is it?
- Sure. Daddy did it for me,

and now I'm doing it for you
since... Daddy's not around.

- Yeah, there's no need to cry.
- I'm not crying, mate. Daddy's no biggie for me.

- I'm cool talking Dad.
It's easy peasy not to get cheesy. - Well, good, mate,

don't blub about it.
- I'm not going to blub, are you going to blub?

Hey, Vod, check out my suit.

I was worried about my future, but
it turns out it's going to be fine.

Oh, brilliant.
I was really worried about you.

How's that, er, pharmacology course
going for you, mate?

Do you realise that tonight is the
last chance we'll have to watch the

first in a new series of New Tricks
all together, as a house, ever?

Yeah, er, out of interest,
can you make Mandy or acid yet?

Did we miss the last Pancake Day?

Look, the thing is,
I am going to need some money.

It moves. Yeah, Pancake Day,
you slippery fucker.

So now I'm thinking,
"Vod, play to your strengths.

"You know drugs,
you've got some great contacts.

"All you need now is a source."

- I am not going to be
your drugs mule. - Not a mule!

You would be a lovely, rosy-cheeked,
nutty little drugs milk maid.

No. And also, what's with
the rosy fucking cheeks?!

Hey, Howie, last first New Tricks
tonight? Feel free to bring Candice.

OK. Oh, no, she texted saying not
to meet her off the coach after all.

Oh. Er, everything all right?

Yeah, just one of her texts.

One of her texts?

We text in a text window,
once a fortnight, rain or shine.

Got to put the hours
in a relationship, Jose.

Right?

"I think we need to take a break,
I need to get my head together."

Yeah.
She sent that before Christmas.

And it was actually perfect
because I needed to get my head

together, too,
so the timing was good.

And, er, now... head together.

Oh, God.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Maybe. Are you thinking about
Nanny Pru's three-legged Labrador?

Check it out, guys!
I'm wearing my future,

and it feels amazing!

The future starts now.
Revision starts now.

I'm going to get a 2:1 and I'm going
to slide into my amazing job

that my amazing bro has
swung for me.

I need to knuckle down. We all do.

That is true.
Nose to the grindstone.

Do some serious fucking study.

I'm already four months in.

We need to seriously,
seriously start knuckling down.

- Tomorrow.
- Tomorrow, yes, I like it.

Yes. Good. Up at 6.30?

Yeah. That's the spirit, mate.

Tomothy, pleased to meet you.

Oh, er, we already, erm... I'm...
I was the one with the American cereal.

Here's my thinking, though.
Before we focus like laser beams,

surely we should have one really,
really big one?

A huge one. Massive.

- There is a certain logic.
- So pathetic.

We had that quite long argument
about the euro?

We take all the temptations,
all the distractions, all the booze

and the drugs, everything
from down the back of the sofa.

All the intoxicants, the gluten
and the coffee and the weed

and the speed and the Drambuie
and the voddy and the Nurofen

and the garam masala...

You get distracted by garam masala?

Shut up, Howard! Sometimes I do.

And then we turn it
all into a terrible milkshake.

Or pancake. Nice!

We consume it all tonight.

And then we go out
and we go absolutely fucking mental.

Then tomorrow, we knuckle down,
camomile tea it through until finals.

Pancakes or punch? Shall
we go for pancakes or the punch?

You need to decide.
Shit or get off the pot, new guy!

Punch! Fine, it's the punch!

I should be able to sort
the naughties. So, tell your mates.

Yes, classic Hartnell night out!

We give the bloody internal organs
some trouble that they won't forget!

Fuck you, liver!

Now's the time for you all to get
seriously laid. Third year.

The social circle gets tighter
and tighter and then,

when you leave uni, someone turns
the sex tap off for good.

You've got six months to live.

This is Adolf's bunker
the night before the Allies arrive.

12 weeks, you're out of here.

Tonight's the night.

Everything I've wanted to do
in Manchester,

I've just got to fucking do it.

I want to release
a chicken in a tutorial.

I want to eat the hottest curry
in Rusholme. I want to do

a conga at a bunga bunga,
hire a limo and fill it with foam!

I want to get a blow job
in a toilet.

I want to go to Stockport
and Wythenshawe!

I want to go to the Gay Village
and get fucked by a bunch of really great guys!

What?

It's just that...

It's what the Lonely Planet
said you should do.

So, how's life, bro?

Great, mate. It's fucking great.

The little guy's not
sleeping too well,

so, er, it's good to get away,
you know?

Right, and this is definitely
the hottest one you have?

Ah, God!

That is ridiculous.

I can't eat that,
it's too fucking hot.

Oh, my God. I mean,
that is an unrealistic curry.

I mean, you've at least got to
give me something I can eat.

This is meant to be my dinner!

Yeah, I'm pulling some big ones so,
it's usually only weekends

when I see the little guy.

You know, out at five, back at nine.

You mean, nine to five?

No, man. Five to nine.

Right. Well, I mean, how does
that work?

When do you, you know,
have a nice time?

Er, I get a coffee on the way in.

Big lunches?

OK, look, I'm sorry, mate,
are you taking the piss?

Is everyone having a big
laugh at whitey, back there?

I mean, that's basically
a fucking korma.

It's lovely.
I'm not an eight-year-old girl!

Come on, give me something with some
balls on.

Lunch in the saddle, mate.
Desk jockey.

Right. And then what?
Cuddle up at night?

No, Jen's usually wiped out.
So I, er, microwave something.

Fall asleep in front of Newsnight.

Wank in the shower,
if I can manage it.

You know, do the e-mails every 30
minutes, that's the secret.

Ping them back, keep pushing
them back or they'll bury you.

It's just "yes, no, OK." "Thank
you, thank you, schedule it, Kelly."

Just keep moving.

Oh, fuck.

But it's interesting, right?

Well, what I do is boring.

But if I do anything wrong,
I might get fired.

So, that kind of keeps it
interesting, you know?

Wow.

Now, you see, this,
this, my friend, is perfect.

It's painful,
incredibly unpleasant to eat.

I'm certainly going to know
about it in the morning.

But I can just about get it down.

Eugh, vile.

I have the product.

Yes.

Well, come on, hand over the goods!

OK. Are the rest like that?

That IS the pill.

How do you mean, that is THE pill?

You wanted your apples tonight,
I only had time to make one apple.

This is a very new area of
cider production...

(..for me.)

150 quid for one pill?!

What, what does it do,

grow a magic beanstalk back to the
fucking Hacienda 1990?

There will be more, Vod.

I'm hardly even a drug
pusher with one.

You can't push just once?

That's a not a push, it's a poke.

I'm a drug poker.

Pills?

Oi, psst, hey, hey, pills?
Pills?

We could have gone to that bar that
I told you about

that Aguero goes to,

with the ice sculptures and the
frozen mojitos.

I went. It's shit.

James Milner was there,
having a diet Coke.

Whereas, here, pissed student totty!

To look at!

Oh, very mature!

Oh, hottest curry in Manchester,
tick. Champagne spray, tick.

Right, now all
I need is a blow-job in the toilet.

Any interest?

Anyone?

Kingsley has soft pillowy lips?

Pills?

Pills?

Come on, Kingsley!

What an asshole.

Yeah, he's actually
one of my closest friends, so,

I can confirm you are totally
correct.

"Bunga, bunga." For me, these
words are politically very loaded.

Fucking students.

Yeah, fucking students.

And you're here because...?

I work upstairs.

I like watching the wheels go round.

I like watching the holding pen
at the slaughterhouse.

So I'm trying to fit in everything
I haven't done in Manchester,

before 6.30 tomorrow.

So much to do.

I mean, I've never even listened
to a Smiths song!

MUSIC: Heaven Knows I'm Miserable
Now by The Smiths.

Oh? Is this The Smiths?

In that case, I have listened to
a Smiths song.

Er, we didn't meet.
I'm, er, JP's brother.

Tomothy.

Oh? Oregon.

President of the union.

- Right?
- For my sins.

Union president. Wow.

You, er, you pushing through a lot
of shit?

Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
It gets pretty pushy.

What's your biggest achievement,
would you say?

Well, you know, I mean,
implementation is, is complex.

But in terms of structural
reorganisation fund reallocation?

Uh-huh. Sure.

Well.

You know, it's difficult to change
things... because... of reasons.

For example, I tried to do a
free day at the gym,

to encourage first years to...

you know? But Rosa said that
that's...

So, so in the end, we just
sort of put the prices up a bit.

Which is similar, yeah.

OK. I get it.
You do a lot of this?

- Yeah, I mean, I open the odd faculty.
- Yeah. - Sure.

They roll you out, roll you
back in again. You sound plausible.

Look good.

You're an "RC".

A ribbon cutter.

A fruit fly.

A Teflon wombat.

A flak-catching shit sieve.

Well, no, because that's
a lot of horrible words, hold on,

because, actually, I've just
launched a study guide

for final year students which...

Um, Rosa?

Why isn't the Short Walk To Freedom
in the display bins

as per my directive?

People need my book, my
little red book.

Yeah, about that name...

Oh, yes, update on that.

The finance committee couldn't agree
on a full print run in the end.

I'm sorry.

I can explain to you with your big
calculator on Monday.

Well, how many copies did
they print?

Ten.

Just 10,000?

No, just ten.

Pill?

Candice. She texted.

- Oh, good. Brilliant.
- Yeah. She wants a "big talk".

Uh-huh?

It'll be good cos she thinks
I deserve someone better.

Right?

She'll be relieved when I'm like,
"Nah, you're fine."

Howard.
Erm, "It's not you, it's me."

Erm, well, that's no biggie.

I assured her that
I was fine with her.

And as it's not me, as she states,
but her, then no problem!

OK, Howard, erm, I'm so sorry.

But I have to tell you,

as a human being from Planet Earth,
that your relationship is over.

Oh, yes, patronise me,
Little Miss Relationships!

Well, I can settle this...

Oh, no, Howard, don't, don't...

Candice!

Oh, yes, er, it's great to get you!

Erm. I'm just triple-checking.

You are still my girlfriend,
aren't you?

Well, I don't see how it can
be that complicated...

I'm a ribbon cutter.
She's thwarting me.

I was going to roll those fatties
onto the treadmill for free.

Look, you're president.

Would Putin let someone do this
to him?

Or would he poison them
and then shoot them?

And then take his shirt off and piss
on them?

- I can't believe he left you for your
best friend? - Oh, yeah,

he used to wash his face
with the garden hose before

he came home every night,
so I couldn't smell her perfume.

Oh, that's horrible.

Oh, it's just so complicated
And so grown up.

Listen, if you want to get
away from these bloody students,

we could go back to my house?

Your student house?

Yeah, but my room is a haven.

I have a shelf of books
I don't even need to read

but I do anyway, just for fun.

- Hello, Rosa. It's the ribbon cutter here.
- Hello?

I've worked out what's going on
and I'm giving you your notice.

I'm sorry?

Think of your job as a ribbon.
I'm cutting it. You're fired.

You just made a big mistake.
You can't do that!

Great.

The first grown-up, complicated,
fascinating woman who's

agreed to come back to my room all
year and you give her the sack.

I'm sure Alan Sugar and my mother
would be very pleased.

Pill.

I'm sorry.

Hey, mate! Top night in here.

Do you fancy an Irish cocoa?

Nanny Pru stylee?

- Oh?
- Oh, come on, man, let's have a mental early one.

Hit the duvet hard like Eminem
and Dre do,

probably, when they haven't seen
each other for ages

and want to have a catch-up.

Yeah, fuck that.
I'm having a very good time!

But you don't want to do anything
that you might regret?

Listen, mate, what happens in Vegas,
stays in Vegas!

Sorry, I don't understand.
What happened in Vegas?

I slept with a prostitute.

All right, one percenters?

Who wants to cough
up for a party pill?

How much?

Er...

200?

That must be a very good pill.

It is like Disneyland,
Christmas morning,

your 18th and your hardest cum all
got remixed by David Guetta.

Oh, plus, it's got a windmill on it.

That's one half of one of your four
months of back rent dealt with.

- You are NOT allowed to
have sex with Tomothy. - Why not?

Because of a little something called
the institution of marriage

and a little organisation called
the Church of fucking England.

Look, I'll do whatever I want and
Tomothy should do whatever he wants.

That is a horrible philosophy.

Oi! Quick quiz.
What fucks like a tiger and winks?

Vod, I need to speak with you.

All right, Walter White.

I've got a very little, tiny worry
about some of the quantities I used.

- The pill. It's probably fine.
- Probably?

Has it been ingested?

Oh, God...

Then you need to keep a very close
eye on the subject.

Oh, my God, fucking hell, Sabine.
Should we just...?

I don't think you need to worry.

Just monitor his temperature
and vital signs very closely

and you can relax, have a great
night out!

You are a fucking talented
administrator.

You know, I can see that just by
looking at you.

Yeah. I think I am, actually.

I have tiny Post-it notes...

Cones are legendary.

I mean, students and cones.

But what do
I actually do with the cone?

I mean, it's funny, right?

But surely there's more to it?

OK, motherfuckers. Death pancakes!

General announcement.

My relationship, as prophesied
by the doom-monger Josie,

is indeed over.

I will not be accepting any
consolation or human sympathy,

many thanks for your interest.

Howard!

Are you OK?

I've been such a fool.

Yeah, it's confusing because you're
normally so pessimistic

and doubting and...

- Negative and sceptical?
- Exactly.

So, how did you miss the subtext?

Well, I guess, because...

HE MUMBLES

What?

She said she loved me.

Oh!

She said she'd always love me.

And I didn't know,
I had not been informed

that when somebody says that,
they don't necessarily mean it.

Oh, Howie.

It's kind of hard to relax with all
of this heartbreak and cone-play

and my archenemy, who I just fired,
hanging out in my kitchen.

Seven years. I've been in this job
seven years

and then that bitch tries to get
rid of me like that.

SHE SNAPS HER FINGERS

My contract is crystal clear.

If she wants a fight,
my ex is an employment lawyer.

Oh, my God. What a mess.

I am going to fuck her.

And when I fuck, I fuck hard.

Promises, promises!

How's it going for you, mate?

Crunchy, or have you got the
butterflies?

Temperature feeling nice? Yeah?

Fucking heartbeat
regular as Big Ben, yeah?

Yeah, I tell you what,

for a drug dealer, your aftercare
is off the scale.

Oh, nice!

I tell you what can be wild
about now, is a nice glass of tepid

water and a lie down where we can
all see you.

OK, let's crank up this party
with dodgy tequila.

So, er...

is this going to be your first lay
since...?

She's on the rebound harder
than a squash ball,

and she's looking for love in all
the wrong places!

I don't know if it's a sex thing or
a power thing or what

kind of thing I'm into.

It's so fucked up!

I've left a message with
Katrina in human resources.

She's a good friend. An old friend.

I think I might head to bed.
Get some room.

Night, everyone.

Psst!

About Tomothy.
Maybe keep it vanilla?

I mean, I know you're not exactly
a mega-ho in the sack but...

Erm, I'm sorry, Vod, what?

I am extremely, hugely,
raunchy and why are you even...?

He's older, yeah?

So, you know, keep his pulse low,
temperature low, heart rate low.

Listen, I just want to let my hair
down and shag someone who

I won't awkwardly
bump into in the arts faculty.

So just leave me alone and let me
make one of those really fun

mistakes that I rarely have the
time or energy to manage.

LOUD VACUUMING

Howard? You're killing the vibe!

Maybe you could hoover
up your dreams in the morning?

Or put your dick in the vacuum and
I'll squirt tequila in your mouth?

No thanks, Josie.

I'm trying to have a party!

HE YAWNS: Yeah, about time I hit the
hay myself.

You can sleep in my room.

Er, yeah, I think I might just sling
a sleepy into the sparey.

I'd prefer it if you slept with me.

I get very lonely at night.

- And scared.
- What?

It's Howard.

We all lock ourselves in,
every night.

It's just sensible.

I mean, he's not done
anything... yet.

Once he did.

- Yeah, do you really
lock yourselves in? - No.

Well, she doesn't, she's Welsh.
She's up for a rumble, 24/7.

Fuck you, Made In Chelsea.

Listen...

bro, how does sleeping with Oregon
fit into your five-year plan, mate?

I'm just having some fun, mate.

And it's none of your business.

Well, as a matter of fact, mate,
yes, it is.

Because you've got a wife at home.
And Jen is lovely.

She bought me that book, Coast,
for Christmas.

The one about the coast.

And I like it so much that
I won't even let anyone do

a line off it, even though quite
a lot of the time it is the only

book that I have around.

So, please don't break her heart.

JP, I'm chained to a fucking
desk 80 hours a week.

I'm chained to my wife the other 80.

So, let's just keep
this on the down-low, yeah?

I'm not going to do anything anyway.

It's just a bit of flirty-shirty.

Worst... party... ever.

Wow!

You are under a fucking
mountain of debt.

This is three credit cards on top
of your tuition and loans.

Why are the RAF after you?

That's bad, they have drones.

Oh!

Where'd you get those?

These? These were making a lump
under your mattress.

This is like 70 grand...

Shut up. Anyway, I got a plan.

Yeah? What's the plan?

Die before I hit 27.

What's the latest?

Not much. Paolo Nutini and chat.

OK, good.

Why are you even bothered?

I'm not.

I just...

believe that true love waits.

Or something.

Waits about half an hour.

Why's he's being such a...?

I'm going to tell him to fuck off.

Lion taming and art.
Those are my passions.

I mean, I'm not unrealistic,
I know that I might have to

start off taming something a little
more manageable, like a puma.

Uh-oh, it's gone quiet.
They've stopped chatting.

GROANING

Is he having a heart attack?

Probably just... sex?

All right!

Just doing a round of waters!
Who's in?

That's not flirty-shirty, that's
dirty-bertie!

Hello? Do we not knock any more?

Sorry, Ogs. I just need to check...

Er, bit of a weird one.

Can you open up? I just need to pop
this, it's for a project.

What, like an English project?

Come on, or it's going in the
back door.

He's got a wife at home.
She's lovely. She makes soup.

Can't I have a single night off?

Bill Clinton had his saxophone,
he's my saxophone.

Get out!

Look, OK, the truth is,
I sold your saxophone a dodgy pill

and I'm worried he's going to die.
- What?! - What?

It's probably fine.

But, erm, the "lab" where they came
from just had a few... doubts.

Well, what the hell's in it?

I don't know. This and that.
Sabine knocked it up...

Sabine?

You gave my brother
a pill made by Sabine?

She's a pharmacologist!

She's a biscuit-licking European
oddball that hates us!

Oh, God, and it had to happen in
the North!

Oh, my God, what have you done?
If you have hurt this.

You could knock
a percentile off the GDP.

Just call Bupa.
I might need to be 'coptered south.

Calm down, we don't want your blood
pressure to spike.

This brain is gold!

- If you've damaged even
a single cell of it... - I will sue.

- Look, should we get medical help?
- Shall we get Josie in here?

Oh, yeah! Josie, the struck-off
trainee dentist?

DOORBELL RINGS

Well, who the hell is that?

Well, I'll get it, shall I?

Here's what's going to happen.
I'm going to A & E, on the way

I'll call the police, tell them
I got spiked by a drug dealer.

You're going to prison.
You know why?

Because you have fucked with the
wrong pineapple!

- What the fuck?
- Come on, mate. It was just an accident.

- She thought the pill was safe.
- Bullshit. - It did have a windmill.

She's an a-hole.
All your housemates are a-holes.

The pusher, the no-mark,
the Welsh alcoholic,

fucking Stig of the Dump...

I don't live in a dump.
I revise in a cellar.

It would be more accurate to call me
"The Fritzl Of Revision."

The truth is, Tomothy,
you shouldn't have taken the pill.

And you shouldn't be
in Oregon's bed!

I'm calling an ambulance
and the police.

Put the phone down or
I will clonk you on the dome.

Ow! Fuck!

I said I would clonk you.

Now, put the phone down to
avoid more clonks.

Guys, could you, erm,
keep the noise down?

Rosa and I are trying to relax.

Piss off, Kingsley!

Ah, now you remember my name.

The guy who pulled a hot,
fully-grown Italian?

We can all relax, it's fine.

It's safe. I triple-checked.

I was really concentrating
this time.

I even turned off the radio.

The pill's safe.

How do you know for sure?

I just took one a few hours ago.
I feel great.

Here's the batch.

I'm going to try to touch
a duck in the park.

They look so soft. Hey.

Goodnight.

Finally, I'm out.

I'm out the game.

There is too much health and safety
in drug dealing these days.

You're turning in.
9am at the tailor.

Ooh, about that.

I'm not sure I actually need
the suit.

What?

Well, I think I might prefer
to do a more interesting job.

Not lions necessarily.

Or cocks.

Maybe something in media or books

or the music industry.

- Yeah.
- But I'm not sure I want to be a fuck-off banker.

Well, don't worry, mate.
You won't be.

Cambridge, Imperial, Harvard,
they're full of physicists,

geniuses who fuck off
the cancer-curing

to work in derivatives.

You wouldn't get a look-in.

Oh.

I see.

Look, real world, JP,
you're a fucking good guy,

you're a clinical moron.

Stick with me,

big bro will keep an eye on you,
make sure you don't shit the bed.

What?

Look, I'm being nice.

I'm helping you out, bro.

Right.

Thank you.

Yeah.

NEW TRICKS THEME TUNE PLAYS

I recorded New Tricks.

It's a goody.

VOLUME INCREASES

ALARM BEEPS

Welcome to the breakfast show.

Coming up, we've got
Daisy Day Fawcett, but, first...

MUSIC: We've Only Just Begun
by The Carpenters

ALARM BEEPS

MUSIC: U-Mass by Pixies

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