All language subtitles for Rake s02e06 R vs Alford.eng

Hello, is this emergency?

Yeah, I was just wondering if
anyone's handed in a penis recently.

You will burn in hell for this,
you bastard!

Found it. Must have rolled
under the side of the bed.

Go! Go!

Mrs Alford.
Yes.

I was just wondering if your
husband Alexander was at home?

Well, what's it about?

Hello there.
What seems to be the trouble here?

Oh, yes. It's very bruised.

Is that tender?
Oh! Yes.

Yeah, I was kicked in 'em.

Here?
Oh, yeah! Yeah.

Does it pass when you hurt urine?
It hurts when I squeeze toothpaste.

It hurts when I change radio
stations. It fucking hurts, alright?

It's like I've got
a couple of bowling balls down there.

Can you achieve an erection?

Bernie, do you think I'm going to
pull this out in front of anybody

who hasn't had medical training?
It looks like a blue-ringed octopus!

Yes, well, I would avoid
show-and-tell for some time.

In fact, I'd steer clear of sex
for awhile.

I suspect it's only bruising,

but I wouldn't mind
running some tests.

You absolute bastard!

Uh, I'm sorry.
Would you excuse us, please, ladies?

I, uh, think someone's got
the grumps with me.

Excuse me.

You attacked this woman and then
you conned me into covering for you.

I haven't been charged
and I didn't do it.

Because of you I perjured myself
in a sworn statement to the police.

Yes. Yes, why did you do that?

I had trouble understanding
that myself, then I got these.

Where are they? Jesus, filing.
Oh, here we go!

Oh, look, here's a nice one of you
getting into the lifts at the Hyatt.

1:51pm, around the same time

I'm supposed to be
knocking off this woman.

Hot to go to the 21st floor.
You had me followed?

No! No interest in you whatsoever.

This is against the law.

Oh, surely you must know by now

for all practical purposes
I am the law in this state

and he is my direct opposition.

It's my business
to know everything about him,

so imagine our delight
when the Pretzel gets in the lift

two minutes after you
and then guess what floor he goes to?

Nothing happened.
I just had a drink with him.

Ah, well,
this one suggests otherwise.

One hour and 15 minutes later.

Yeah, he's not a stayer, is he?

Look, word of advice
from an old hand, hey?

Always take two lifts
and leave ten minutes apart.

You will never get away with what
you've done to this poor woman.

You keep forgetting
I haven't been charged.

I'm just a person of interest.

I love that term.

It's worth of a gravestone.

Callum Dalgleish McGregor -
person of interest.

You don't scare me.

Oh, wow.

Yeah, big wow, big wow.
Oh.

OK, that's it.
That has, that has to be it.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that's it.

Yeah, I can't, we can't... do this.

I can't keep doing this.
I know, I know.

OK.
I agree.

I'm getting married in three weeks,
you know?

If I keep doing this,
I'm going to go mad.

I'm not this sort of person,
you know?

At least, I never thought I was.

I know. You're not. I'm not.

You're not and I'm not.

I'm not the kind of person
who has shabby affairs.

Oh!

Alright.
OK.

Yep. Alright.

Yep.
Oh!

This is late even by my standards.

Get off my case, will you?
I got caught up, alright?

You've got Tuesday's buttons
in Wednesday's holes, mate.

So? You once turned up
to a conference with the DPP

in a dressing gown.

Yeah, but I'm the dissolute
brilliant one. You're Watson.

No, you're just dissolute.

Still sore?

I'm tenured.

12 years as an IT lecturer.

I co-wrote the authoritative manual
on 120 ARM processing notes.

So I should be
in a lecture hall right now

teaching my Indian students
about gigaflops

and instead I'm here listening
to this humiliating nonsense.

Why is that?

The police felt your history with
your neighbour suggested a pattern.

There is no logical
sequence of events here

describing a uniform pattern.

It's merely a few squabbles and,
what, I'm supposed to have

cut off the man's johnson?

It's more than a few squabbles.

The police have a list
of 23 separate incidents here

over a nine-month period.

I mean, even to non-computer people,
it does look like a bit of a pattern.

Now, I understand it all kicked off
with a noise complaint

about a neighbour's birthday party.

Was it a 21st or something?

Hunter was turning six.

It was an unbelievable commotion.
Tell them, please, Alannah.

Well, I, we don't have
children of our own,

so we're not used to
that level of noise.

Alex called the police.

What time was this?
Well, three in the afternoon.

Oh, fair enough.

Yeah. Alex had been to a conference
and he was trying to nap.

I was exhausted.

And then he dumped garbage
on your lawn

and you dumped an old tyre
on his. An old burning tyre.

And then he cut down
our beautiful silver birch.

Yes, after you had urinated
in his petrol tank.

Alex, this is
a very serious charge.

Police have found DNA evidence,

your fingerprints and traces
of his blood on the...

..on the instrument
they believe was used.

Yep, and I loaned him
those garden shears ages ago

and he never returned them
and of course it's got my DNA on it.

I told the police all this!
Does anyone listen anymore?

I understand you were
all once friends

in a golden age
before Archduke Ferdinand was shot.

Alex and Bob
were in Rotary together

and played squash.

Squash!
Went fishing.

Never caught a thing.
And were you friends with his wife?

Well, we played golf
a couple of times.

She's very good
and I'm more of a tennis girl.

I guess we were friends,
but this is so very wrong.

I did not cut off his business!

I did not.

Mmm.

I did not!

IT people, just,
we don't do that sort of thing!

Jesus!

We'll speak later.

Darling.

Alex and Alannah, Barbara and Bob.

Perfect initials
on the bathroom towels

out here in this Utopian dream.

What the fucken blue blazes
happened in there, mate?

Alex is a volunteer
with St John's Ambulance,

Alannah Meals On Wheels,
Barbara golfs.

One of them collects penises.

A fall from grace is a bloody quick
elevator ride, mate, I tell you.

What man chops off
another man's tackle?

And then ties a piece of string
around the stump

so the victim
doesn't bleed to death.

Radical circumcision's
not a Rotarian rite, is it?

They still frown on it.

It has to be Bob's wife.
It's what wives do to husbands.

She's a nurse.

Ah, but good Mrs Oakley
was at a golf tournie

with 200 eye witnesses
admiring her short game.

I've met someone.

Shit.
Yeah.

Does Scarlet know?

Sort of.

When you say 'met'.
I mean I'm in...

I think there might be a chance
I'm in love with the woman.

She seems to make sense somehow.

And the sex, what she does...
Yes, but are you sure that's not it?

I mean, you know,
it could just be a root.

You're not obliged to fall in love.

I'm not a farm animal.
I don't just root people.

I'm not built that way.

It has to be love. It has to be.

Do I know her?
No, no, no, no.

No, look, it doesn't matter.
It's not going anywhere anyway.

She's get, she's with someone.

Jesus.

Why do chicks always feel the need
to do the phone thing

with their fingers?

Do you think they think
we don't know what a phone is?

When Alexander Bell
invented the phone,

do you think his wife invented
the finger thing at the same time?

Mate, the most wonderful news.

Cal McGregor's raped someone -
direct from my contact in the force.

Has he been charged?
Not yet, not public.

Still building a case.

The only thing standing between him
and eight years

in an all-men's shower facility

is the testimony
of that bitch working for him.

If you're referring to
Scarlet Engels,

she and her husband
are friends of mine.

OK. Well, in that case,
I'm sorry to tell you

my cop contact reckons she's lying

and may end up
joining Cal in prison.

David, you do realise this is
a great day for the party.

I did mention she's a friend of mine!

Your boss is in a sea of trouble.

I'm told you're his only alibi.

Did you have a meeting with him
or are you covering for him?

Hello, David.

Are you asking me this
out of concern for me

or wanting to put the boot into him?

I'm sorry, but I need to know.

Was this meeting real? Did it happen?

No. I lied.

Jesus, you lied to the police?

You signed a sworn statement.

That's right.

Have you any idea what you've done?
Why would you do that for him?

The meeting that didn't happen
with Cal coincided perfectly

with the time that you and I
were angsting on a hotel bed,

so I just thought...

You are kidding.

Had I known that I was
supplying a watertight,

diarised alibi for rape I might have
given it a second thought,

but at the time all I could think
was, 'Yay, we got away with it.'

You are not putting this on me.

I thought I was helping. Bugger
that! You were protecting yourself!

And Barney.

I'm sorry, Scarlet, but no matter
how I feel about you,

I cannot and will not
be a party to perjury.

You're on your own.

That much I do know.

Hey.

What are you doing?
Timing.

Timing what?

This claims to be
a current affairs show.

They've spent 2 minutes 10
on border protection

and 6 minutes 20 on one of
the lesser Kardashians.

Up next I speak with
celebrity psychiatrist Sandra Wilson

about what impact this
divorce might have on the family.

I once timed a sex scene
with Salma Hayek.

One of the happiest
1 minute and 23 seconds of my life.

I thought we might go out for dinner.
Oh, I've eaten.

What did you eat?
Twisties.

Could I interest you
in another food group?

Ya.

Hey. I'm having a dinner
for Fuzz's birthday.

Has he told you
he's got a new girlfriend?

No. How old's this one?

Do I have to pick her up
from an aged care facility?

She's 17. I've met her once. She's a
bit serious, but she seems gorgeous

and cute and he's super keen.

Bring Melissa if you like.

Oh, I've told you,
it's not like that.

Did you? I don't remember.
I'm bringing someone.

Who are you bringing?
This guy.

Which guy?

Sally's ex, Roger.

Roger.
So to our son's birthday dinner,

you are bringing the husband
of the woman our son was porking?

Fuzz gets on with him
and he likes Fuzz.

Vampire 2 has cleared off and
he's here looking after their kids

and I like him.

Oh, you like him?
Yeah, I like him.

Yes, yeah, I heard you.

What are you...? OK, well, it's nice
that you've got nice new friends.

Hang on, have you got a problem?

No, I don't have a problem.
Why would I? No.

Problem!

I'll see you there.

Oh.

Are you right there? Do you want
to throw a little something on?

I'm covered.

Yeah, you're covered in a way
that says,

'I'm naked apart from
this little bit of covering here.'

I'm gonna go to bed.

Oh, well.

Did you leave me any Twisties?

You sent me an official invitation.

'The honourable
August and Maria Vargas

invite you to attend the matrimonial
of their most precious daughter

Nicolette Maria
St Agnes Magdalene...'

Yeah, it did not say that
and I only invited you

because I thought you'd say no.

What, free canapes and booze and a
chance to laugh at your relatives?

Why would I say no?
Please, just don't come, OK?

You'll get drunk and you will argue
with my extremely right-wing family

and you'll ruin my special day.

I've already RSVP-ed.
I am there, baby.

I'll be good.
Barney will keep his eye on me.

No, he is not coming!
He's not available.

He won't be there. What do you mean,
he's not available?

Barney never does anything.
Of course he's available.

A coward.
Yes, Your Honour.

A gutless peddler of smear.

Yes, Your Honour.

Unreliable.
Yes, that too, Your Honour.

And untrustworthy.

Indeed, Your Honour, I called
the plaintiff all of those things.

So we're agreed on the imputations,
then.

At least that's some progress.

So, Mr Greene, where do you stand?

Uh, well, Your Honour, I shall,
of course, be pleading truth.

I see it as my duty
not only to this court,

but to decent society at large

to prove that Mr Potter
is all of those things.

This stinks, you know?

I didn't start it.
Yes, you did!

Mr Potter,
you hold yourself up publicly

to be an honourable
and truthful man.

Would that be a fair comment?

I don't know if I do that,

but I like to think of myself
as an honest man.

I see. Mr Potter, this is
a transcript of a TV interview

you gave on The Today Project,
dated July 12 this year.

Is that correct?

I suppose so.

Your Honour,
if you turn to the last page,

the interviewer, Ms Polly Nesbitt,

asks the plaintiff, and I quote,

'Have you read the best-seller
A Thousand Lies I Have Told

by the ex-prostitute JM Doolan.

Word is that half her clients
were Labor Party bigwigs.'

To which you responded,
'I haven't read it.'

Later,
in response to another question,

'As I say, I don't know.
I haven't read it, Polly.

I wish I had more time to read.
I especially love fiction.'

Let me remind you, Mr Potter,
you are under oath here.

Have you read
A Thousand Lies I Have Told?

Yes.

Am I correct in assuming
you had read it

at the time of the interview,
Mr Potter?

Yes.

I see. So on national television,
you openly lied

to millions
of your fellow Australians.

Poor man.
He was only protecting his privacy.

Can't good people
make the odd mistake

without the whole world
judging them?

We're only human.

That's been my argument
since I was 13.

No, you used up your quota
of forgivable mistakes years ago.

Ah!

I've called you in today
because I thought we might settle

on an appropriate term before
this wretched trial commences.

Uh, an appropriate term?

Mmm, yes. An appropriate one.

An appropriate term for what,
exactly, Your Honour?

We're grown men here.

Given the nature of the case,

references will be made
apropos the item in question

and we need to find a workable term.

Ah.

One that won't provoke sniggers
in the court.

Right, so no then to meat popsicle
or pink flute.

I will not have this trial
reduced to a mindless sideshow

of tawdry innuendo and filth talk,
do you hear me, Cleaver?

Absolutely, Your Honour.
All fair seas.

No dingle-dangles, no Mr Winkies.

Wouldn't the term penis satisfy,
Dougal?

Ugly word.

I want something that might...
elevate

this deeply unpleasant case.

Well, it's a hard one to elevate,
isn't it?

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it
to sound quite like it did.

I don't mean to be indelicate,
Your Honour,

but, uh, may I ask how you
refer to it in the home context?

We never do.

Well, sometimes,
but in context of moments

of deep personal interconnection.

Of course. It's just that
I know your wife to be a woman

of delicate sensibility who
would never use an offensive term.

When discussing matters of hygiene
when the boys were growing up,

she referred to it as a whatnot.

A whatnot?
Yes.

A useful pseudonym
which causes few blushes,

but not appropriate here.

Well, my father referred to it
as his nonsense,

or nonny,
although I'm not sure either term

is legal lingua franca.

I'm very comfortable with either.

No, what I propose
is we should refer to it

by its correct Latin name,
the membrum virile.

Membrum virile.
I don't think I've heard that one.

It's in the Greater Dictionary.
Ah. Hmm.

I think it's wonderful!

It's readily accessible,
it's inoffensive

and yet in common, everyday usage.

Good. Then we are settled.

I remind you, gentlemen,
this is a most serious charge

and the honour of the court
must not be traduced.

Your Honour.

Oh.
Are you right there?

Yeah, I copped one in the membrum.

The Crown will present
detailed DNA evidence

and a tale of a once happy community

falling into hostility and violence

as a result of reprehensible actions
by the accused, Alexander Alford.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
I ask you to look at this poor man.

Robert Oakley
is a respected public servant

once charged with building
the education revolution

in the primary schools
of New South Wales.

He was a proud man,
but by virtue of the accused

and a pair of garden shears,

he has been separated from that
which traditionally defines

our masculinity.

Bob now can have no more children.

Relations with his lovely wife
will be... forever tricky.

This is a brutal,
brutal crime by a man

who deserves
your absolute condemnation.

The case against my client,
you will find,

is entirely circum... stantial.

In 100% of cases of the relatively
recent phenomenon of Bobbitting,

the assailant
was found to be a woman -

the victim's lover or wife.

100%.

And yet the Crown
would have you believe

that my client - a decent,
hard-working IT lecturer -

was reduced to an act
of animal depravity

on the basis of what?

The Crown will try
to present examples

of squabbles between these families,

where things may have gotten
a little out of hand,

but haven't we all known times

when our neighbours
have driven us to madness?

When we may have wanted to drop
a bit of litter on their lawn

or scrawl a commonly used expletive
on a child's slide

or, or urinate in their petrol tank.

But how many here
would seriously think

that this could lead
to the sort of terrible crime

that my client is accused of?

Ladies and gentlemen,
it makes no sense.

The surgeons
managed to sew it back on.

I'm only grateful that I already
have two beautiful children

and a wife who's prepared
to stand by me.

You are a monster!
JUDGE: Please, control yourself.

The police report tells us
that there were traces of Rohypnol

in the bottle of cider
that you drank that night.

That's correct. Alex knew
every night before dinner

I like my small bottle
of imported English cider.

Presumably he wouldn't have been
the only person

who would have been a custodian
of that information.

Your wife, among others,
would have known.

My wife was away for the weekend
at a golf tournament

when I was attacked.

When was the last time my client
was in your home?

Um, maybe 18 months ago.

I see, so you figure
that 18 months ago,

knowing he was going to
fall out with you,

my client slipped a sleeping draft
in ye olde English cider bottle

and bided his time.

Obviously he broke in
when I was out.

Oh, I see. So locks were broken,
there were signs of unlawful entry?

No, but he is a computer expert,

so he could have decoded
my security system.

I see. Well, he could have been
the bassoon player

with the Lithuanian Philharmonic,
but he wasn't.

Tell me, have you always been
faithful to your wife, Mr Oakley?

Yes.

Right, may I remind you
you are under oath here.

You've never slept with
another woman while married.

No, never.
I mean, Barbara's my rock.

No further questions.
Thank you, Your Honour.

Now, to be absolutely clear,
you spend the night in question

in the company of women
at a golf tournament.

123 to be precise.

That's a lot of witnesses.

Given the number of incidents
you have recounted to this court,

you became fearful
of your neighbour, the accused.

I did. He changed.

Alex was a placid, shapeless man
who used to bore us

with the pros and cons
between PCs and Macs

and suddenly he seemed to snap.

It was... it was like
living in the Gaza Strip.

You said in your testimony
that you heard Alex

threaten to cut off
your husband's membrum virile.

His what?

His membrum virile. His... whatnot.

Nonsense. Nonny.

His penis, you mean?

Now, what exactly are you claiming
the accused said, Mrs Oakley?

I heard raised voices
and Alex yelling,

'I'll bloody chop your knob off!'

So he made no direct
anatomical reference whatsoever,

a knob meaning anything from
a door handle to a node of butter.

Now, tell me, as a trained nurse
of 12 years standing,

how difficult would it be
to apply a clamp after severance?

I think you would need to know
what you were doing.

I thought as much.

You do know that Alex did
several St John's Ambulance courses.

So they teach that, do they,
at St John's?

Snakebites, CPR,
membrum virile removal?

'Bevan, with all my heart
I give myself to you,

knowing our love
will last a lifetime,

that our long journey together
will be one of discovery

as we share each other's
dreams and hopes

and build a future to, um... '

Barney, can you, uh, meet me,
please?

Dad.

Ah.
It's really great to see you.

How are you?
Ah, I'm good, good, mate.

Happy birthday.
Yeah, no, well done, Cleave.

It only took you
four reminders this year.

Hey, come on, Mum.
Uh, Dad, this is Tara.

Lovely to meet you, Tara.
You too.

And this is Melissa.
Ah, I read your book.

Oh, how'd you go with it?
I finished it.

Well, I loved it,
although I did wonder about

that childlike, substance-abusing,
backgammon-playing lawyer.

I mean, could anyone
be that dysfunctional?

Well, it's great to have
both of you here.

Mmm. Now, listen, mate, I thought
you could probably do with the dough

rather than a boring old present, OK?

Thanks, Dad.

Just don't cash it
before the 17th.

And, actually -
oh, give me a call, OK?

You could use that to buy those
books I was telling you about.

Oh, well, I'm sure our author
would be thrilled to hear

that you're buying books.

It's a series
and they're all connected.

With each one
you kind of learn more.

The plot thickens.
ROGER: Hello!

Oh, hey, Rog!
Hey, Rog.

Hello.
This is Tara.

Hey, Tara. How are you? Hey.

Roger, Cleaver, you remember Roger?

Indeedy, I do. I've been looking
forward to seeing you, Cleave.

I've been counting the hours too,
Roger.

Now, from memory,
you are a big Rabbitohs fan, right?

Yeah, no, not really.
I've sort of gone off the game.

Since when?

Oh, I don't know.

Just lately
it's all just sexual assault

and groin strain these days.

It's a shame you've gone off it.
Roger consults as an osteopath.

He could have gotten you
free season tickets.

Mmm.

Now.

For you, Fuzz. Spot's old jumper.

Signed and possibly unwashed.

Brilliant. Oh, thanks, Roger.

Oh, man,
you can smell the sweat and blood.

Not forgetting
the lady of the house.

Now, you said you like
authentic kasundi, right?

God knows what it's like.
Feel free to chuck it in the bin.

I find kasundi a little bland or
something, do you know what I mean?

It's a bit - Melissa makes her own
harissa relish, don't you, darling?

No, I don't.
I thought you said you did.

No, you didn't.

Happy birthday, Fuzz, darling.

Yes, happy birthday, mate.
Good on you. Good one.

Thanks, Roger. Thanks, everyone.

Well, dig in.
Would you mind, before we start?

Mind what?
If we hold hands.

Uh, well, not in principle,
but how am I going to eat?

It's something I need to do
before each meal, Dad.

To pay respect to his bounty.

Whose bounty, sorry?

Dad.

Ah...

Um...

Amen.
Amen. Amen.

This looks great.

Well done, Mum.
God Almighty!

Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!

Oh!

Oh! Oh!

Ah! Fuck!

Your Honour, I respectfully submit

the charges against my client
be dismissed.

There is clearly
a serial Bobbitter on the loose.

We now have two - I'm sorry,
what would the plural be, membri?

That would be
second declension neuter, yes.

And how appropriate
that it is neuter, Your Honour.

What do you have to say about this,
Mr Crown?

Your Honour,
the Prosecution wishes to continue.

Are you seriously suggesting
the man de-membrumised himself?

It's possible in order to escape
a lengthy prison term

the accused committed
an act of self-mutilation.

We've already established
this man is prepared to do

absolutely anything
in this neighbourhood war.

Your Honour,
rather than torturing my poor client,

we should be out there
advising the good burghers of Concord

to wear protective kit.

No, Mr Greene, I have heard nothing
that warrants dismissal

of this case.
We shall continue Friday.

If your client is unable to attend,

the court will organise
a video link.

He'll make it here.

A couple of ounces lighter, maybe,
but he will be here.

So I was thinking I'd start with a
lunch with Christian at the Herald.

'Awful about that
Cal McGregor rape shit.

Oh, you didn't know?
Oh, please forget I said anything.

Is your salad soggy?'

The man hasn't been charged yet.
That's why we leak it.

Publicly, you say you won't comment,

everyone has the right
to the presumption of innocence,

blah, blah, blah,
but we get it out there,

otherwise we lose traction.

I think cool heads.

Jesus, David,
you're a bloody killjoy.

This is the first glimmer of hope
we've had

since that
last bowel-cleansing election.

Can't we look for hope
in our policies, in our people,

in our agenda going forward
rather than always be

tearing down other people
on the basis of gutter talk?

What, you are joking, right?

Do you know who I hate most of all?

Me?

Never you.

Mick Jagger.

The man's spent a lifetime
behaving exactly as he likes -

women, parties, drugs, more women.

I've spent 40 years
trying to have good values,

trying to forge the kind of life
that would lead me

to the position I now occupy.

But if you ask any many -
or any woman, for that matter -

whose life they'd prefer,
his or mine...

He does move well.

40 years.

If only they'd tell you
when you're little,

'Go feral, do as you please.
Everyone will love you for it.'

Why wasn't I told?

How many people do you reckon
die paragons of virtue

simply because
they didn't get found out?

Impossible these days -
one foot out of line,

a millisecond later,
there you are on YouTube.

Everyone knows
everyone else's business.

Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn.

Do you know how many phone
accounts we have, David? Seven.

Seven phone bills arrive every month

and I don't want
to speak with anyone.

Oh, fuck 'em.

Tell them whatever you want.
I don't care.

Time to be a rock star.

David. I'm really sorry.

I'm truly, really fucking sorry.

I am so sorry.

From the bottom of my heart,
I mean it,

I'm really, I'm really, truly sorry.

Things happen
and you don't have any idea why

and you don't mean for them to
happen, but they just happen anyway.

I'm really not a bad person,
I promise.

I never thought you were.
Oh, God, this is such a bloody mess!

Wedding plans going well then, I see?

To say I'm surprised would be
selling the truth below wholesale.

I'm in trouble.

Last time I saw you,
you told me to get out

and said that
you never wanted to see me again.

I know what I said. I'm sorry.

Are you sorry or are you in trouble?

'Cause I'm afraid I'm knee-deep
in penises at the moment.

I think I'm going to go to prison.

Right.

Scarlet loves you so much, Barney,

and I love Bevan
and I am going to make this work

and, and if you love me,
then you'll be happy for me

and you won't see me again.

Hang on, hang on.
You said you saw my wife.

Yeah, she confronted me
in Cleaver's room.

She confronted you?

What the hell was she doing
in Cleaver's room?

She came to see me and I,
and she knows

and I, I started crying
and it's just all, it's...

Goodbye.

You may not have a legal problem.

The wheels of justice
being what they are

will gradually grind Cal's victim
into the dirt

until she can no longer remember
her own name.

What you do have is a moral problem.

So do I protect this woman
and incriminate myself?

I'm going to have to ask you
who you were with.

That's not relevant.
Well, you know they'll ask.

David.

David?
Hmm.

David Attenborough? David Beckham?

Oh, please, no!
David, not Harry, sorry, fuck!

Oh!

What is it with this guy?

I opened the cookie jar
and he shoves his hand in.

Thanks for that analogy.

You know this little prick
is currently suing me

for every cent I have,
little hypocrite.

That's not my concern.
Nothing happened between me and him.

Please, can you just tell me
what to do?

Well, you know what you have to do.

Cal McGregor can't get away with
this, no matter what happens to you.

We're going to have to
go to the police.

And tell the truth?

Not what I said. Give us your phone.

You see? It's in Arabic.

Three months ago, a stupid joke
played on me at a party.

Guilty.

And it keeps reverting to Arabic
and it has the Muslim calendar.

When I try to adjust it,
the date shifts back a day,

so the meeting that I swore I was at
with Cal McGregor

I now realise was the day before.

If you knew the phone was dodgy,

why didn't you double-check the
dates before signing your statement?

Well, she did, but her office
computer's linked to this phone

and so the mistake was carried.

That's what interconnectivity is -
the same fuck-up replicated globally.

I feel terrible about this, Scarlet.
It's as much my fault, Cleave.

You do realise
it's a very serious offence

to lie on a sworn statement
to the police.

Absolutely she does and that's why
as soon as she realised

she came straight here.

Well, you're in luck.

It would seem the woman in question
has admitted

she can't be certain of her facts.

Charges have been dropped.

But they, they, it could be true.

That's what I'm saying.
His alibi doesn't necessarily hold.

It's over. Consider yourself lucky.

He got to her.
If I'd come forward at the time...

No, no, he would have
still paid her off.

Come on, you're in the clear.

Mmm, so I'm respectable again.
That was easy.

God, it's so bloody tenuous.

Wouldn't know -
never been respectable.

Never had all that far to fall.

I've got to go.

You OK?

I have missed you, you know.

Jesus, I'll go.
Thanks, thanks. Bye.

Alex, you have to tell us
what happened, mate.

Facebook, Twitter, YouTube.

No, not me. Give me Cobalt,
give me Pascal, give me Basic,

Visual Basic, C, any day.

That's the kind of guy I am.

Thought I am.

A Trojan got into the system.

That's what happened.
A virus corrupted my system.

All Alannah ever wanted was kids.

And you couldn't have them?

She was desperate,
crying all the time.

The doctors said that she was
an intensely fertile woman,

so the problem had to be me, so
I, I paid that miserable bastard

$15,000 to impregnate her.

Right, so you paid Bob to
artificially inseminate Alannah.

No. She wanted it all to be natural.

She had no time for test tubes.

OK. And how many times would you say
that she and Bob were... natural?

43 times...

..at critical moments in her cycle.

That's quite a lot of natural.

And did his wife know about this?

No. He made it a condition
that she didn't know.

But Alannah didn't conceive.

And he flatly refused to give us
our money back.

He was paid to impregnate her,
not to have sex with her.

We were cheated,
me of my money and her of a baby.

It's like someone turning up
to make your driveway,

but... not bringing cement.

You realise this has implications.
It gives the Prosecution a motive.

I've been lying here
for the last four days

wondering if I'd been a Mac guy,
would my life have been different?

Using a UNIX base system
with a C++ language.

Harder for Trojans to get in.

43 times without scoring?

The man should avoid poker.

It doesn't help our boy, though -
it puts him dead in the spotlight.

Barn.

Yeah, they're gonna argue it was
an eye for an eye, so to speak.

I still smell a woman's hand
in there somewhere.

How can we get our hands
on his and Oakley's medical records?

Listen, Nicole said
she saw Scarlet in your office.

Yeah.
Why?

I think she thinks
that I've been punished enough,

so it's cool for us
to work together.

She said that?
Yeah.

Words to that effect.

See if you can get your hands on Bob
Oakley's medical records, alright?

Right.

Cough.
Why? I don't have a cold.

Neither does it.
Alright, don't then.

The swelling seems to be subsiding.

All your tests are back,
everything's OK.

Should be back to full strength
in a week or so.

Hmm. Hey, uh, Bern, did you look at
those files I sent you?

I told you, Cleaver,
he's not my patient.

But... let me ask you this -
does he had a permanent cold?

No... Oh, well, he's always sneezing.

Hmm. Could be silica on the balls.
Makes men infertile.

Well, it can't be that.
He's got two kids.

Ah.

OK, now give me a hug.

Aw! Aw! Daddy loves you very much.

OK, OK.
Ricky, Daddy's not a well man.

Come on, big cuddle.
Bye, kids!

Come on, Bob. Quick, quick, quick.
Bye.

This all comes down
to my cross examination.

I need this, Barnyard.

Watch in awe as I rediscover
the source of the Nile.

Mr Oakley, you stated under oath
that you never cheated on your wife.

Do you still hold to that?

Um, in my heart I never cheated.

That's not the organ
we're focusing on here, Mr Oakley.

Let me put the question
to you again -

did you place your membrum virile

anywhere near the -
what would the Latin word be?

Um, oh, of course -
vagina of another woman?

Specifically, were you not paid
a sum of $15,000

to have sex with Alannah Alford

in order that she might conceive
a much-wanted child?

I'm so sorry, Barbara.

I was only doing it
to help them out.

And, I mean, you, you and I,
we weren't communicating.

You were always off on
a golf course somewhere. Mr Oakley.

But you weren't really trying to
help them, were you, Mr Oakley?

You were just trying to fleece them,
because you knew very well

that you were
incapable of having a child.

What are you talking about?
I've got two children.

Barbara? Barbara?
Excuse me.

Barbara, just tell them.
Sorry.

Barbara!

Uh...

I put it to you that once you became
aware of your husband's infidelities,

you became hell-bent on revenge.

I suggest that you snuck out
of your golf tournament,

you drove back to the city,

you jumped the neighbour's fence,
you got the garden shears

and you went about
your terrible business.

I did nothing of the sort.

I couldn't have cared less
if he had an affair.

I couldn't bear to be with him!

OK, I know that my life
is just going to be

a giant internet joke anyway,
so here it is -

Bob, neither child is yours.

I've been having affairs

to break the interminable boredom
of life with you.

Order!
I've been having them for years.

Bob was never a sexual man.

He, he was never
much of a man at all.

I won't have you say that!

Bobby is a sexual dynamo
who made me cross boundaries

that I never thought that I could.

You turned to golf
because the tennis girls

didn't trust you
with their husbands!

Order!
What are you saying?

Your Honour, I might need a moment
to confer with my client.

I saw you, Alex! You were climbing
the fence and holding the shears!

Order!

The next minute, my darling Bobby
had been brutalised.

Well, I finally got some justice!

Mrs Alford!
Alannah, did you...?

If you want it back, I would try
the wild cats' cage at the zoo.

And for the record,
they didn't find it very satisfying!

Your Honour, uh... Oh, forget it.

Order!

Less the Nile, more Shit Creek.

So, Barnyard, uh... my secretary has,
uh,

spent much of the past working week
sobbing into chambers' toilet paper.

Now, normally I'd put that
down to me,

but I do have to ask you, mate,

this mysterious lady who's been
taking you to new horizons

of orgasmic fulfillment,

that wouldn't happen to be Nicole,
would it?

Well done, mate.

Slipped one in before the marriage.

I didn't slip one in.
I'm not that kind of person.

Can't you see?

For me to do something like that,
it's totally significant.

It has to be.

Wow. Yeah.

Well, it makes sense.

I mean, you marriage is shit.

Actually,
you guys are perfect for each other.

You're bookends.
It's no wonder the sex was great.

Ordinary,
normal people are great at sex.

It's your big trump card. It's people
like me who are hit-and-miss.

It's not about sex
and it's never going to be.

So, oh, just stay out of it.

Ah.
I mean it, Cleave. I mean it.

Does she make you happy?

Barney.

Barney.

She needs to know, mate.

You paid her off, didn't you?

Handsomely.

But whatever you think of me...

..I don't rape women.

The person in question was someone
I was having a fling with.

I broke up with her, she got angry.

I suppose I should have been
more careful.

Excuse me if I don't believe you.

I've handed in my resignation.

Ah. For the best.

Let's put it down as an experiment
that didn't pay off.

If you think you're going to
get away with this,

you've got another thing coming.

Oh, I wouldn't threaten me.

I'm not sure you hold any of
the picture cards as we speak.

Come on!

The sooner we get this over with,
the sooner I can go back to bed.

Yep, yep, yep. Nearly there.

Cleaver.
Yeah.

What are you thinking?

I - look, I'm just going to have
a little chat with the bride.

What about? I'm not convinced
this is such a good idea.

For God's sake, she's wearing white

and there are women
carrying her train.

It's not the time for a little chat.

My best mate's happiness
is hanging by a thread, alright?

He just needs a little help.
This is the least I can do. Nicole!

I bloody told you not to interfere!

I'm doing this for you, mate.

No, you're not!
You're not! You're not! OK?

Ah! Alright.

Alright?
Alright, OK, OK. Calm down.

Oh! Oh, fuck!
Idiot.

You are.
No, you are.

Nicole!

Oh! I fucked up your life, mate.
I know I did.

And I feel so terrible about it,
but I can make it right.

I can fix it, alright?

Yeah? Oh! Fuck! Oh!

Oh, yeah. Oh!

Stop it!

Gah! You said that you loved her,
mate.

You said she was the only thing
that made sense. Nicole!

Stop! Shut up!

Shut up and listen to me, alright?

I made a mistake.
It was just a root.

I realised I am that sort of person,
OK?

Dearly beloved,
we are gathered here today

in this place to celebrate
the marriage of Nicole and Bevan.

We're out for a quiet night here,
boys, quiet night.

VIPs coming through.

Do me here.

You fucken snake in the grass!
Oh!

Pfft. Oh.

What happened to Wednesday?

Mum, where are we going?
Shh!

I fucken love you.

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