All language subtitles for Breeders.S01E01.WEBRip.x264-ION10

-Mom.
-Yes?

-Okay. I want
a big party this year.
-Serious?

-I want a quinceañera.
-Quinceañera?

We can't do that.
We're too white for that.
We're not allowed.

[distant screaming]

[muffled screaming continues]

- [sighs]

[keys clacking]

[banging]

[child yells]

[children yelling]

Don't do this, mate.

Don't do it.

It doesn't help.

If you're going in,
you scream,

they cry,
you hate yourself.

[muffled screaming]

Breathe.

Talk to them.

Do better, Paul.

Be better.

Jesus fucking Christ!

How many times
do I have to tell you

to be quiet?

No, tell me,
how many times have I told you?

You think I'm gonna
put up with this?

I'll fucking go.
I don't give a shit.

In fact, I'm gonna go, tell--

tell Mummy
that Daddy's gone.

Right?
'Cause he couldn't stand

to be around
the fucking noise anymore.

Then, when you told her that,
you can watch her cry,

and then you can cry some more,

and you'll all
be fucking crying.

Sorry.

I just need you to be quiet.

I'm working.
I didn't mean any of that.

Oh, man, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

- Nicely finessed, ambassador.

- Oh.
- You all right?

- Yeah.

It's just the level of noise.

Do you know what I mean,
it's--

I've got to prep
for this thing tomorrow, and--

- Yeah, I know, Paul,
they can be real pricks.

- I would die
for those kids, Ally.

But often,
I also want to kill them.

- Yeah.
It's a conundrum, isn't it?

Trying to work out which duvet
to suffocate them with.

- Well, the tiger one's
thicker.

I would definitely
murder our children

with the tiger duvet.

- [chuckles]

[irreverent music]

*

[police siren wails distantly]

[muffled talking]

- [exhales noisily]

- [laughs]
- You better believe it.

[laughs]

[grunts]

[serene music]

- [speaks Spanish]

- [speaks Spanish]
- That is so hot.

- [laughs]

Right, I'm just gonna use
the little girls' room

to have a massive piss.

- Have fun with that.

Try a standing-up one.

- I'll pay the bill
on the way out.

- Love you.
- Joint account.

- Fuck you.
- Shh.

[baby crying]
[child speaking]

- A minute.
Give us a minute.

- Buen provecho.
- Oh, gracias, yes.

Oh, Charlie.

- You eat yours,
then we'll swap.

- No, no, pass her here.
You eat yours first.

You hate your cold food.

- You eat yours when it's hot.
I'm good.

- Uh, excuse me,
you don't need a hand, do you?

*

- Thank you so much for that.

That was such a brilliant thing
to do.

- You're welcome.
Don't mention it.

- They love you.

I take it you've got kids.

- Uh, not yet.

Or maybe ever.
Who knows.

Nice to meet you, sunshine.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

- Bye-bye.

- So shall we go back
to the hotel...

and fuck each other stupid?

- Oh, yeah,
let's fuck each other mental,

like if you could turn
someone schizophrenic

just by fucking them
hard enough.

- You can't.

Not even Sting can do that,
and he's had a good go.

- [laughs]

[sighs]

I really thought we were done
with the sleepless nights.

Ava's got a bit of a cold.

She's ripped to the tits
on Calpol,

but... Luke, I don't know.

- I think he might've had
a bit of a nap today

at my folks', so.

- He had a what?
- It's fine, he'll sleep.

Said it was just two hours.

- Two hours?

You can get to Brussels
on the fucking Eurostar

in two hours.

You can watch "The Godfather."

- You can't, it's nearly three.
- He'll never sleep again.

What were your parents
thinking?

- [sighs]

They were looking after
our kids, Ally.

For free.

- Mummy!

- Luke's got
his fire madness again.

- Christ.

The fucking fire safety class
he had at school.

- He thinks we're all
gonna burn to death.

He asked Father Christmas
for a sprinkler system.

- Daddy!
Mummy!

- Shall I go...

- What time is your meeting
tomorrow morning?

It's 8:45, right?

- Mm, it's 8:00.
- I thought you said 8:45.

- Yeah, but I should be there
for 8:00.

7:50-ish, you know?

7:45, sort of thing.

- Why?

- To get prepared,
get sorted.

So that means up at 6:30.

You're working from home
tomorrow, right?

'Cause Darren's
sending you edits

to listen to down the line?

- Yeah, but that doesn't mean
I don't need to sleep, does it?

- No, I--
God, I know, I know.

- 'Cause work from home
is still work, isn't it?

- I know, yeah.
- Daddy!

- Okay. Let's split it
through the night.

90 minutes on, 90 minutes off,

like World War I sentries
or prostitutes.

- Daddy!

*

- Okay.

*

- Good luck.

*

- So what's on your mind,
sunshine?

- I don't want to be in a fire.
- Of course you don't.

Last thing anyone wants.
That or drowning.

Not drowning.

That's not gonna happen
to us, okay?

- Okay.

- Seriously, mate, serious--
we are safe here.

My job, Mummy's job,
is to keep you and Ava safe.

That's always been our job.

That's, like, our only job.

It's what mums and dads
are for.

- Fucking nightmare,
the whole thing.

Half them don't speak
any English.

That's not a racist complaint.

It's a purely practical
complaint.

Because I need to communicate
with them, you know?

Words.
Ideas.

They stare back at me

like I'm the one talking
in a foreign language.

I have hot water now,
I don't know,

maybe three days a week,
if that.

Astonishing, given the amount
I am fucking paying.

- He's called Luke, Mum.
- Who is, love?

- My new baby.

- Oh, God, yes, of course.

Sorry to be boring on
about the stupid building.

Well, you've got a lovely baby.

- Do you want to hold him?

- I've got this elbow thing,
so I won't.

He's unlikely to remember
any of this anyway.

Have you thought of any names?

- He's called Luke, Mum.
- Nice.

Biblical.

Or "Star Wars."

- We've arrived,
and to prove it, we're here.

- Stand by your beds.

Not literally.

Hello, Leah.

That's a nice top.

- Hey.

- Aww, is this little Luke?
- Yeah.

Want to hold him?
- You don't want to drop him.

- I won't drop him, Jim.

I think I can hold
a baby, thanks.

- Drop him on his head,
he'd turn out like this one.

- Oi.
- I'm joking.

He's fine.

Although he was on beta
blockers for his "A" levels.

- I'll get some more chairs.

- Oh, don't bother.
I don't mind standing.

As Elton John sang.

Did he sing that?

- It's all right.

I'll get a couple
from out here.

- You don't need any more
palaver.

- We're fine.
We don't want a fuss.

- It's not a fuss, Dad.

Getting some chairs,
it's not a fuss.

You refusing
the fucking chairs,

that's a fuss.

- Sorry for the turmoil, Ally.

- Oh, honestly, it's fine.
Totally fine.

- Oh, what a beautiful baby.

Look, Jim.

- I can see him.

- Paul's gonna be
a terrific dad.

- Oh.

Thanks.

- Super dad.

*

- So.

You know what this is?

- Smoke alarm?
- Mm-hmm.

- And what does it do
if it smells smoke?

- Beeps?
- More than that, mate.

It mega-beeps.
Incredibly loudly.

Like a lorry reversing
into a heart monitor.

And that keeps us safe.

All right?

- If the sofa was on fire,
would we be safe?

- Yes, we would.
- If the telly was on fire?

- Yeah.
- Table?

- Yes.
- What if the--

- Whatever's on fire, Luke,

even if it's a big fire,
we'll all be safe.

- A big fire?

Can we climb out that window?

- Well, it's locked,
but there is a key.

Although we don't keep it
near the window.

- Why?

- Because a burglar
might be able

to smash the glass, reach in,
and get the key.

- Are there burglars outside?

- No need to worry
about burglars.

Shouldn't have
mentioned burglars.

- I'm worried about
burglars and drowning.

- Well, I thought
you were worried about fire.

- I am.

- So can we just worry about
one thing at a time, please?

Or not worry.
Let's not worry.

Because you don't need
to be worried.

Front door, all right?

Keys by the side,

so we can easily get out.

[door rattling]

- No, we can't.
- Yes, we can.

- No, we can't.
- Yes, we can.

- I can't get out of the fire!
- There's no fucking fire!

Okay? You shouldn't be able
to get out anyway

because you're seven years old
and you'd get run over.

No, you wouldn't.

Don't start worrying
about that now.

Christ, how many times?

You're madder
than the fucking smoke alarm.

Hello, Ally, hi.

This is all fine.

It's all under control.
It's not rage.

I'm not angry with Luke.

I was just explaining
a few things,

safety things, you know,

and all of a sudden,
it just got a bit--

- It's almost my time

to take over anyway,
so just go to bed.

- Good. Fine.
Thanks.

[Ava crying]

Do you ever feel
like your brain

is gonna be sick
into your own skull?

- I get that relentlessly
most days, yeah.

*

Come here.

- Yes, how do you know?

- 'Cause whenever you ask

if I remember someone,
they're dead.

- Broken heart.

His wife had gone
eight weeks before.

I think if your mum
dies before me,

I'll just step
in front of a lorry.

Or drink bleach.
- Yeah, nice gesture.

- I can't even boil an egg.

Or line up me pills
in that plastic thing.

Can't work the printer.

- You never need
to print anything.

- Well, it's a fucking
good job, isn't it?

You cook, don't you?

- We share it, yeah.

- It was a different era
when I was young.

I don't mean sex crimes.

Child care, cooking, all that.

I went to work.
Your mum did everything else.

I don't think I was ever
as nice as you are.

- Hmm.
I'm not nice.

I'm not a nice man.

I-I found that out.

You know, I thought I was.

Thirty-odd years,
I was convinced

that I was nice,
but I'm not, I'm nasty.

- Is this about
shouting at the kids?

Everyone shouts
at the kids, Paul.

- It's different, Dad.

Believe me.

There's a good boy.

You're gonna stay asleep.

[hushed percussive music]

There's a good boy.

Easy-peasy.

Yeah.

[baby crying]

Oh, motherfucking--
be reasonable, you prick!

Be fucking reasonable!

The rage.

No one has ever
made me feel rage

like that, like they do.

I am medically deranged
when they wind me up.

Full-on fucking Broadmoor.

- You and Ally okay?

No fights?

- Yeah,
we're all right, mostly.

- Me and your mum have never
had a stand-up row in 50 years.

Not one.
- Yeah, you see, it's...

- What?

- Well, that's always been
our family, isn't it?

No rage, no shouting,
just passive aggression.

It's how you and Mum operate.

Passive aggression,

and bottling stuff up
and sulking,

when the better thing
would've just been

to have the row and move on.

You see, I never
learned any of that.

It's one of the reasons

I'm so all over
the fucking shop now.

- Well, I'm sure we're both
very sorry we ruined your life.

We didn't mean to.

- Dad.

- I'll tell your mum
you love her.

- Dad.

- Read it.

- One Sunday morning,
the warm sun came up, and poof,

out of an egg came a small
and very hungry caterpillar.

And what did he do, Ava?

- Looked for some food
'cause he's very hungry.

- He's very hungry.

He's a very hungry caterpillar.

That is his whole thing.

- That's his whole thing.

- On Monday,

he ate through one apple,
but was that enough?

- No.

- [snoring]

- Mummy!

- On Tuesday,
he ate through two pears,

but he was still hungry.

What did he eat on Wednesday?

- Three plums.

- Then he was full.
The end.

Good night.

- No, Mummy!

Wake up!

- Oh, my gosh!

*

[muffled talking]

- What are you calling her?

- She-Ra, after my aunt.
- Ava.

- That's beautiful.
- Mm.

- Hi, Ava.

It's your Uncle Darren.

Well, not genetically.

I'm one of those men who
pretend to be your uncle.

I don't mean...

Two kids, man, amazing.
Two.

- I know.
Two.

- No, but two, though.

- I know, it's mad.

- How are you, though, mate?
- Yeah, never better.

Brilliant Ally has set up
things in the studio,

so I only really
have to work hardly now.

- Where were you
last month, Darren?

Tell Paul.

- Croatia.
Three weeks.

Beautiful.

Mucking around on the boat
with Karen.

Maldives in a month.

- So you're soldiering on,
then.

- Don't get me wrong,
I'm a lucky, lucky guy,

but stuff is just stuff.

I mean, this,
Ava and Luke, you know,

you can't put a price on that.

You know, Karen and I
still can't--

- Mm... mm...
- Been years now.

Still no dice.

IVF and so on.

It's sperm trouble.

Jizz biz.

- Yeah, you said.
That is sad news.

I'm gonna just go
with my mum and dad.

- I mean, they thought
for a while

it was "variocele"?

Which sounds like
an Italian dessert,

but it's actually
abnormally dilated veins

around the testicles.

- I'm not a lover
of puddings, really.

- You know, I'd do anything
to have kids.

- Mm.
- Do anything.

I'd pay anything.
I'd pay...

[baby coos]

I don't know, 800 grand each?

For yours?

- [laughs]

Are you serious?

- No, of course
I'm not serious.

[laughs]

*

- Fuck you.

Ticking away like some cunt.

Fuck your hands.

Fuck your numbers.

What am I doing?
What am I doing?

[muffled talking]

[calm music]

*

- Time to wake up, I'm afraid.

- No, I was--
I was awake, I hadn't slept.

- You were asleep then.
- Fucking for one second.

Literally for one second.

- Sometimes it can feel
like a second

when it's actually been--

- Hon, it was a second,
believe me.

- Okay.
- Okay?

- Sure.
- Thanks.

- I'm gonna plug up to be sure,

so shake
or electrocute me awake.

- Are we, um, are we letting
Ava have the iPad?

Or is the blue light--

- [snoring]
- How?

That's...

I want you
to just lie here, right?

Don't even think
about going to sleep.

If you lie here,
still and quiet,

you'll just drift off,
I promise you.

- Safety Man said smoke alarms

are important
because most fires

happen when you're asleep.

- The Safety Man made you
scared, didn't he, Luke?

So how about I just push Safety
Man down a fucking stairwell,

then he won't be Safety Man
anymore, will he?

I've gotta sleep, mate.

Do you think you can?

- I'll try.

- Good boy.

Love you.
Okay, bye-bye.

- Daddy.

[percussive music]

*

- Hiya.
- You all right?

- Hello.
- We're your bin men.

Recycling and, you know,
food, waste, all that.

- Oh, is this about
the Christmas tip?

I didn't think
that was allowed anymore,

what with
all the contracting out.

- No, no, look,
we're sorry to bother you.

We just wanted to say that, um,

well, we've both
been there, buddy.

- Been there.

Bought the T-shirt.

Built the LEGO model.

- Sorry, been where?

- The abyss.

- Look, we collect
your glass recycling,

and we're worried.

- About?
- There's a lot of bottles.

A lot of bottles.

I mean, a lot of bottles.

- Yeah, yeah, we worked--
today's what?

- What, a hundred units a week?

120?
Something like that?

- Everything okay, Paul?
- Yeah, all good, thanks, Carl.

- This about the new blue bins?

- No.

- Right.

- I-I think you're way off
on the units, aren't you?

I mean, there's four people
who live in this house.

Yes, two of them
don't really drink,

but, you know,
we have people round,

to drink,
and do other things as well,

obviously,
it's not a speakeasy.

- Look, we're not here
to judge you.

- Although you are
monitoring me.

- Maybe now's not the time
to deal with stuff.

Just, like, I said,
we're both recovering, and...

- Yeah, and we agreed

that we'd feel guilty
if we said nothing, so...

- So, up to you now, yeah?

- Well, thanks
for your thoughts.

I'll be sure
to put 'em on a pile.

- Hey, remember.

Buck always stops
with this guy.

I mean, not me, you.

- Stay strong.

- Arms shoulder-width apart,

like this, and up.

Bend your arms.
Bend your arms.

Okay, or not, yeah,

but good, well done.

- It's hard work.
- Yeah, I know, mate.

Come on, five more reps,
then you can swap.

*

[kids laughing]
[toys whirring]

All right, showtime.

Sorry, I tried
to tire them out,

but I think
I just made them stronger.

[voice rewinding]

- A powerful bleach.

For heavy-duty sterilizing

and stain removal.

- They've cocked up
the timings.

We need to take out all the air
but keep the clarity.

- Sterilizing
and stain removal.

- Can't they come back
and record it again?

- No budget.

The bleach guys
are tight as assholes.

Bleached assholes.

- A powerful bleach.
[voice slowing down]

- Have I updated you
on the great IVF

egg and sperm race?

- Yeah, no I think so.
I think you have, yeah.

- Stain removal.

Stain--
stain removal.

- I say it lightheartedly,
but it's been grim.

I won't go into
the biology of it all.

Grisly ins and outs.

- Brilliant.
How's Karen about it all?

- Yeah, I think she's less
bothered than me, to be honest.

- A powerful bleach.

- Have you thought
about adoption?

- Who'd have me?

[audio whirring]

Yes, we have, uh, discussed it.

You guys happy?
You and Paul?

- [laughs]
No, don't be daft.

- Oh?
- Stain.

- I mean, we're fine.
We're fine, we're not unhappy.

Well, we are unhappy,
but you know.

- Not really though.

- Well, who is happy
with two kids under seven?

I mean, properly happy,

like you are
when you're in Portugal

and you just had a couple
of beers and a big tomato.

Right, if someone
is climbing Scafell Pike

with a mini-fridge tied around
them and a bit of washing line,

and then you tie
another mini-fridge on,

then they're not
gonna be happy, no.

They'll probably make it
to the--

to the summit,
but it'll be a slog,

and not a pleasure.

Maybe there's
a nice view, but...

the mini-fridges
have just shat themselves.

- Got you.
- Bleach.

- I mean,
underneath all the madness,

me and Paul love each other
very, very... probably,

but, you know, exploring that

is not currently a priority,
it's just...

little shitting mini-fridges
tied around us.

That is the image
that you have to remember.

[audio whirring]
- Understood.

And if you ever need
to talk to anyone...

- I just have, that's--
that's what I was doing.

- Of course.

- But if God knew we would sin,

why does He demand a sacrifice?

It's like He--
He sets us up to fail

and then punishes us.

He's a psychopath.

- We've failed Him, my friend.

But whatever you want
to call Him,

He continues to love you,

because His love
is unconditional--

- Right, thanks.

*

- No, fucking come here,
you bally...

Don't fucking...

- No, no, no, no, no.

- I thought you told her!
- Did I say I did?

[muffled shouting]

[shouting continues,
dog barking]

[percussive music]

- Who's shouting?

Is it burglars?

*

You said we could
get out that door.

- It's all right, mate.

- He fucking said
he'd fucking--

- Shut the fuck up,
or I'll kill you.

- What?
- You heard.

I said I'll kill you.
Shut your fucking noise.

- Come here.
Fucking come out here.

- Yeah, I'll come out there.

I'll come out there,
you ugly cunt.

I'll kill you.
I'll kill both of you.

- I don't believe it, Josh.
He's, like, 60 or something.

- Six--
what the fuck?

I'm mid-40s, mate.

- He's got
his fucking slippers on, look.

- Go fuck yourself, mate.

- [laughs]
- I'll kill you!

[both laugh]

I will kill both of you.

- [laughs hysterically]

- Oh... fuck.

*

Luke?
Can you open the door?

- I can't do it.
- Yeah, you can.

Just turn the latch.

- What's a latch?
- Oh, God.

It's the sort of
sticky-out thing.

It should be sort of--
ow, motherfucker!

- I can't open the latch.

I can't get out the fire!

- Where is the fire?

Look around,
there's no fire, is there?

Jesus Christ.
Okay.

Stand up.

Right?
See the metal thing?

Just above your head?

If you turn that,

and then you can open--
there you go.

Good boy.
All right, it's okay.

Hey, okay, hold it,
there's Ava.

Hey, don't--
it's okay.

Oh, we nearly had you asleep,
didn't we?

All right.

Let's all of us calm down.

Have some water.

I'm gonna have a little fag.

Shh.

Ow, fuck.

Ah, Jesus Christ.

[smoke alarm beeping]

No, fuck!

- It's a fire!

- There's no fucking fire,
Luke, okay?

It's not--
we've talked about that!

Right!

Shut up.

[beeping changes tone]

Shut the fuck up, cunt.

[beeping intensifying]

[beeping stops]

Okay.
Okay.

He needs his sleep.

We're going old-school.

*

*

[phone clicks]

[calm music]

*

[knocking on door]

[knocking continues]

[banging on door]

[bell buzzing]

- Coming.

Okay.

Coming.

- Hi, Ally.
- Hi.

- Just checking
everything's okay.

- Uh, yeah, I think so.

Why, what time is it?

- Quarter to nine.

No, it's just,
in the early hours,

I thought I heard Paul
shouting about killing.

- Killing?

- Shouting,
"I will kill both of you.

I will kill you both."

I was concerned.

No, it--

- Paul!

Paul?

Luke!

Ava!

[intense percussive music]

*

The tiger duvet is thicker.

*

*

- Please step slowly
out the car, sir.

- Hmm? What?
What is this?

Is this a joke?

Whoa, what?
What're you doing?

- Hey, calm down, sir.

- What do you mean, calm down?
I'm--

Christ, don't wake them up.

We were just having a sleep,
a nice little car sleep.

- Let's get this sorted,
Mr. Worsley, come on.

- Get what sorted?

Jesus Christ.

What the fuck is this about?

Sorry, I don't...

*

- Sorry again.

- It's fine.

- I didn't really think
that you--

well, I mean,
I-I thought it with my mind,

but I didn't
really believe the thoughts.

Does that make sense?

- Not a lot of sense, no.

- Well, what would
you have thought?

- I wouldn't have thought
you'd murdered

our children, Ally.

I wouldn't have thought that,
to be honest.

- Mummy, Daddy,
I can smell fire.

*

Pulling hair is wrong, mate.

I mean, all violence is wrong,
but at least punching's a sport.

-Is it?
-Yes, boxing.

Boxing's in the Olympics.
Hair pulling isn't.

-It would be funny if it was.
-It really would be.

How exactly would you
describe your brand?

Testing! Ah, ah, ooh, ooh, ooh.

I feel like my brand is
everything you loved about
the classic movies

of our childhood,
like The Sandlot,

Billy Madison, Apocalypse Now,
Happy Gilmore, Clueless.

-(crowd cheering)
-MC: We got Lil Dicky
in the house!

But at the same time,
I feel like my brand
is not rooted in the past.

It's actually
very forward-thinking
and, like, futuristic.

I don't know, man.

I look like the back
of a playing card.

-Everything is just
getting really weird.
-(fly buzzing)

-You know?
-Yeah. Let me write that down.

-Here it comes.
-(shouts)

-Take off your hat.
-I can't.

-Take off
this enormous jacket.
-Mm-mmm.

-And stop showing up so late.
-Mm-mmm.

-(grunts)
-(gasps) Oh, God. Are you okay?

Oh, no. No. Shut up.

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

What is Devs?

(screams)