Maybe something where I'd have an estate?
- Like, lots of land. - OK.
- So... farming? - What? Farming?
Oh, God no, that'd be awful.
I quite like the idea of having my own radio show.
Choosing the music, being extremely argumentative with racists
during phone-ins, that kind of thing.
- I'm late for another meeting, so... - Right, yes, sorry...
I've already applied for a Fulbright Scholarship
to study international relations at Yale.
- But now, I'm thinking I might not apply to Ordnance Survey after all. - Oh. Why's that-?
Because it would entail working in an office, with other people.
And you're not a people person?
Historically, no, I'm not.
Got one last week. I work in a pub.
Right. And is that a good idea before your finals?
No choice, mate. I've got a big old deficit to tuck into.
And the pub's a place I can earn a bit of money,
do some revision and eat a shitload of wasabi peas.
What would you be doing on this estate?
Handing out prizes at the local fete,
pootling around on one of those big lawn-mowers
that looks like a tiny tractor...
What kind of WORK?
I've actually got an Italian girlfriend,
so I've become much more easy-going about all that sort of shit.
As long as there's food on the table
and vino in the bottelo, it's all good.
So, you might prefer a less sociably demanding job, perhaps?
Well, there's a reason why Quasimodo worked in the bell tower
and not in the gift shop, isn't there?
Yeah, maybe I'll have a "career" in an "office",
where I wear a "skirt" and have "meetings".
- Yes, maybe you will. - And after work, go home to my "house" in my "Volvo",
put my "head" in an "oven"...
till I'm "dead".
Well, maybe best not to put that on the CV?
Ugh, stop fucking fucking him!
It'd be fucking boring, though.
Reassuringly boring, yes. I prefer uncomplicated.
Most of these oil rigs are manned by Norwegians,
who are famously very plain-speaking
and don't bother with this bourgeois bullshit,
like passive-aggression or smiling
and not being explicitly clear when they're breaking up with you.
And for that reason alone, they have my eternal respect.
Why wasn't I given an oil rig?
I could drive one of them around.
Get it spunking out oil all over the shop.
Yeah, that's generally the opposite of what they want, JP.
And you can shut up. Your brother's got you with a pre-fab bank job.
It's mooks like me and Howard with no contacts that are truly shafted.
Yeah, that is true.
But I'm still sick of Tommo's hand-me-downs.
First, the school uniform, then the ski salopettes and now the suit.
You know what? No more.
I don't need his help, or his clothing.
I'm going my own way.
As of now!
The house isn't that way.
I don't care!
HORN BEEPS
Nice wheels, Kingo.
Oh, yeah. It's Rosa's motorino. It's really cool, actually.
Unless it rains, then it's appalling.
You look like you're going jousting.
Oh, yeah, ha! No, just... delivering Rosa's pane e olio lunch.
I'll see you guys later for another voyage
into the revise-o-sphere though, right?
Not me, mate. I'll be at the pub. Come down, if you want.
Oh, cool. Can you get us free drinks?
Er, can Bob the Builder fix it?
Yes. Famously, he can.
What about Rosa? Do we still need her signature?
Not now that she's been transferred to the comms department, no.
You can authorise your own policies.
Oh, my God. At last!
I am the law.
I can do whatever the fuck I want and no-one can stop me!
That must be why Kim Jong-Un has that haircut.
Obviously, the main thing we need to decide upon for next year is our...
- Legacy, yes. - I was going to say "font", actually...
Henry Kissinger, John Steinbeck,
Amar Gopal Bose, the founder of Bose.
What do all these people have in common?
Oh, God - is it marrying their cousin?
They're all former Fulbright scholars.
They put their heart and soul into writing and diplomacy
and, well, noise-cancelling headphones.
And if I'm going to follow in their Fulbright footsteps -
and ideally I am - I have to lead this university
and give them the leader that they want - no, deserve.
I'm going to stop the rot and fight for justice, and...
I'm sorry, where are we going?
Yes, exactly! To ask, as a university, "Where are we going?"
- No, sorry, I meant right now? Where are we going? - Oh.
I always go the wrong way when I walk and talk at the same time.
Shit. I've got to sort this out if I'm going to work in the States.
What is this, please?
This is a mood board.
I'm assembling my dream house for next year.
Say hello to Hartnell, the next generation.
Russell Howard is moving in?
Well, no - not THE Russell Howard. A Russell Howard type.
Someone to cast a wry eye over the day's news
while we all have breakfast.
Cooked by Ken Hom, presumably?
Yes, yes, exactly, because I thought it'd be really handy to have a chef.
He will literally spice things up around here.
A young Kate Bush?
And an old Malala.
Because I thought they'd be like an uber Vod and Oregon.
It's just a guide, it doesn't need to be realistic.
No. Apparently, the last room is occupied by a pretend dinosaur.
Barney the Dinosaur, yes. A Barney figure.
Someone loud and fun, someone like JP - just not evil.
Basically, it's a better, newer, improved version of us.
Right. Feels a bit heartless.
Yeah, well, I'm in a rut, OK? A big one.
Things have to change around here.
Hmm. And er, who's the new me?
Yeah, no, er... Except you, because you...
You are... Ken Hom.
What? I'm nothing like Ken Hom.
No, no, he's a TV chef and you know, he's so...
...upbeat.
"Upbeat"?
Are you saying I'm not upbeat?
I mean, I take your point about not being a TV chef,
I'm fine with that, I've got no illusions in that department,
but are you saying I'm downbeat?
Well, just recently, since you got dumped, you've been a bit...
Oh, I see.
And Ken Hom never gets dumped, I assume, hmm?
Ken Hom never wonders
if he'll cope with the office culture at Ordnance Survey?
Ken Hom never stares at his wok
and asks himself why he even fucking bothers?!
I'm going to do this in my room.
Are you sure you don't want any pane e olio?
I have McNuggets, thank you.
So, I thought this weekend, we could go to this deli I found
that stocks every shape of pasta in existence.
My son is coming to stay with me this weekend. I'm busy.
Sorry, Kingsley, I should have told you.
Oh, right. Yeah.
I mean, you probably should have told me you have a son.
I have a son. His name is Luca.
I didn't tell you because I didn't know if you could handle it.
I... I can handle it, this is...
This is great,
I think it's great you've got a son. I actually sort of prefer it.
- What? - Not prefer, just...
I'm saying, I think it's cool. Sons are cool.
I'm a son. I like sons. I'd like to meet him.
OK, well, no. I don't think so. He's having problems in school.
Well, let me help! Honestly, Rosa, I know what that's like.
I was bullied when I was eight
and I actually did a bit of bullying myself when I was 11,
so, you know, I've seen both sides.
As a man - a mature man - I could get through to him.
Ooh. He's a big bugger, isn't he?
It's not bullying.
He's saying he doesn't want to go to university.
Right. So, he's what, 18, is he?
But I guess you could talk to him.
Tell him what it's like, why he should go.
It could be very helpful, actually,
for him to get a perspective of someone who's doing it now.
Yeah, cool.
Is he stood on some sort of box or hillock in this?
He's tall, yes.
So you talk to him, Kingsley, yeah? Tell him why it's important.
Could you maybe keep the noise down a bit please, Rosa?
This is actually a place of work and not your kitchen, weirdly -
and even though apparently I can't have you fired,
I would still quite like the option of hearing myself speak.
Thanks.
Holy shit!
Kingsley, that's not a step-son,
that's a step-man.
Yeah, he's big.
But I figure it'll be easy for us to bond if he's 18.
You know, we both love Italy and we both love music...
Do you know what else 18-year-old Italian boys really love?
People having sex with their mums.
PHONE RINGS
Pronto?
Oh, not much, just revising, yeah.
Oh, right, really? You're with Luca now?
K-man's got a son, Vod's got a pub,
Howie's got an oil rig.
What's JP got? Nothing.
Well, maybe cuff-links.
Vod! Will you stop reading, you bloody egghead? I need cheering up.
You own our house, JP. You're fine.
It's people like me that are fucked.
Us lot at the bottom of the property ladder, holding it steady
while you bastards climb to the top.
Thanks, Vod. Once again, you're spot on. I'll think of something.
I mean, look at this - we give 25 grand a year to the rugby club
to fund their aggressively homo-erotic outdoor cuddling.
We are throwing cash at those who have it, and bollocks to the rest.
Well, no more.
Yeah, but not all rugby players are rich.
No offence, but you're Welsh -
and where you're from, A, everybody loves rugby and B, nobody's rich.
In England, Rugby fans wear Barbours and drive to Twickers
in their Land Rovers, and do not deserve Union funding...
Yes, wicked! If this is about shitting on JP, I'm all over it.
Oh, well, I mean, sort of...
Yeah, it's not fair that rugby gets more compared to...
judo or poetry or the Naturists Society.
Did you say "poetry"?
Josie, that's it!
Poetry? That's my noise cancelling headphones!
- Yes! What? - I am going to rob rugby to pay poetry.
I am going to cut that bastard sport
like it's getting a crew cut on the Cutty Sark.
Keep an eye on the bar, Vod.
This is an impressive pub, to be fair.
I just dried my hands using two separate Dyson Air-blades.
Yes, and this Randy Dragon Craft IPA is like drinking a liquid cake.
Another free pint of it please, your Vodjesty?
I just gave you one.
Yes. And now, I would like another one.
- Me too please, Vod. - Yay. Hang on.
Or you can just pop that barrel up on the bar and we'll help ourselves.
Or we can take it home.
If you can't do it, Vod, don't worry.
No, no, I can! Of course I can.
I just can't take the piss, that's all.
- Don't tell me Vod's scared of getting in trouble. - As if!
Trouble's scared of me, more like! Right, what we having?
- Smirnoff Ice, please. - So, that was Rosa. Bit of a situation.
- I am not taking her back, Kingsley. - No, no, it's not that, it's er...
Her son Luca thinks that he might not go to university next year,
so I said he could come round ours to see what it's like.
What what's like?
I guess, being a student, the whole shared house thing.
What, you mean three years cohabitating with people you think like you,
and then discover they'd rather you were Ken Hom?
Oh, Howard, you're making something out of nothing.
Oh, am I? Well, a bit like Ken Hom on Ready Steady Cook.
Oh, my God. Vod, can you get Howard another pint, please?
I'm going to airlift you out of these doldrums, Howard, as of now.
Coming right up.
So, you'll be nice to him, yeah?
Guys? Show him we're cool, being at uni's cool...
We're like a six-headed advert for University right here.
I mean, look at us!
If we can't convince him that being a student's cool, then nothing will.
OK, great, so I'll bring him round tomorrow about three, OK?
I am actually auditioning some potential new housemates tomorrow,
but that should be OK.
Does Luca know that you're knobbing Mummy bear?
Yeah, er... No, but it's all good, we've decided not to tell him.
OK, that's mature.
Oh, I see, the woman drinking Smirnoff Ice
is calling the man drinking Campari immature.
Nice.
It'll be fine.
I know what I'm doing.
I've whittled it down to four jobs that I would do.
Number One,
Spy.
Please could I become a spy?
Well, do you speak any languages?
Yeah, this one. English. Ooh, and I'm really good at accents.
Though I imagine that's probably not as good.
Let's hear your other ideas.
Tennis umpire.
Brackets, women's.
Three, spaceman...
That's not realistic.
Mmm, yeah - sure, bloody unmanned probes.
Jonathan, rather than working through your...
napkin, why don't you tell me what you'd like to get
out of a future career, and then maybe we can work backwards.
Sweet.
Erm, well...
first up, my brother would have to absolutely shit his pants with envy.
If envy can make you do that.
OK, we can come back to that. What about what YOU need?
What I need?
150, 120 minimum. Company car...
No, no, I mean emotionally - what is it that... Sorry,
do you mean £150,000 when you say 150?
Yeah. Excluding bonuses, obv.
That's not going to happen.
None of the jobs you mentioned pay anything like that much.
Spaceman, spy - none of them.
Sorry? You think James Bond is earning less than 150K a year?
He's not real though, is he?
You think he's stood at the bar flicking through his wallet,
wondering whether he can afford another Vodka Martini or
if he has to switch to Fosters? Come on, mate.
The average starting salary for a UK graduate is currently
just under?22,000, Jonathan.
Well, I'm afraid that simply won't do.
What does that mean?
What it means is that I have a lifestyle to maintain.
I am very much a resident of Easy Street.
My address is essentially number 1, Easy Street, London.
I need a job that befits that.
A job that is fun, simple and above all,
extremely well paid.
I'm sorry to say, none of those jobs are the answer...
I haven't finished!
Four,
head chef. - Can you cook?
Not really, no.
OK...
OK, so... this is the kitchen.
Er, just ignore Vod, she won't be here next year.
Unless her exams go really fucking badly, eh, Vod?
Oh, no - one of my housemates has left the milk out. Ugh.
You just did that.
I really hate it when people do that.
Shall I put it back in the fridge?
You do whatever feels right, Helen.
- I'm Helen, by the way. - Oh, sod this, I can't work under these conditions,
I'm going to the pub.
Cool. I'll see you there in a bit.
What? Will you?
Yeah, I'm, er, helping Howard to cheer up.
By taking him to the pub at 11am?
I mean, isn't that just a really fucking terrible idea?
Not when your totally badass housemate's supplying
all the drinks!
Yeah, Jose, look about that...
Vod is a legend in this house. She can get you anything you want!
Helen, cup of tea?
Oh, yeah, great - thanks.
It's all out there and mine's milk with one.
Oh. Hi, sorry.
Hey, Kingsley, just showing Helen the, er, kitchen.
And getting her to make the tea.
If you want one too...
Oh, yeah, thanks. Milk, no sugar, please.
Quite a lot of milk though, so, erm, colour wise,
probably somewhere between beech and young pine.
Are you tidying down? That is insane.
Yeah, I just don't want Luca to think we're, like, squares.
Anyway, what are you doing? Why is she making you tea?
Look, I've had to put up with Oregon's scummy tea for three years,
I'm not going through that again.
Anyway, you can tell a lot about a person by their tea.
Yours, for example, tastes very selfish.
Here you go.
Erm, I didn't have my wood wall chart with me, I'm afraid
so I just sort of made yours the same colour as Jennifer Aniston.
HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY
Great, thank you.
Thank you!
Ta-da!
Oh, right. Wow.
I'm bringing poetry back.
Hard.
Yeah. Er, what is the prize exactly?
Well, poetry is in many ways its own prize, Nas.
But specifically, it's?20,000 and a week at a poetry retreat, yes.
Oh, fuck. OK.
But the second prize is only 3.
Yeah, I mean, we can't do that.
Well, we ARE doing it,
I've already commissioned a Perspex award in the shape of a comma.
No, I mean the money, that's...
And I ordered a massive novelty cheque like the ones supermarkets
use when they donate to Comic Relief. - We can't afford it.
There's no way we can give away that kind of money...
Stop telling me what to do!
I am your leader.
I have been elected to do things, and things is what I'm going to do.
If Joanna Lumley can build a garden on a bridge,
then I should have my poetry prize!
£20,000 would make it the most lucrative poetry prize in the UK.
By five grand.
Good!
No, not good, it's... We can't afford it.
We can! I've made some cuts.
Some absolute swingers.
No longer will we blindly fund three bloody rugby teams
for a bunch of loaded, landed toffs.
The egg-chasers are on their own and I've issued a press release
that displays that both cleverly and hilariously.
Yeah, you can't just cut rugby...
Well, I can. I have. It's done.
Well, they'll crucify you for this.
Perhaps they will. And let's just say I won't be the first person
to be crucified for trying to do something good.
Sorry, are you comparing yourself to Christ now?
No, I am not comparing, just alluding.
It's a subtle difference and one that, if you read more poetry,
you would understand.
That's the secret to good boozing.
A sweet spot.
The magic mark where your worries have gone,
but your faculties haven't, and boom!
You're one chipper chappy.
Right. And how much would that normally require?
In my experience, it's almost always £25, no matter what you buy.
Because, like in terms of quantity of booze,
£25 sounds quite a lot.
It's fine! The government says that seven pints a day is fine.
- Do they? - Yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, probably, yeah.
Look, don't overthink it, OK?
It's easy to know when to stop drinking,
because your body has a sort of fail safe, like, erm,
your hand goes all floppy so you can't hold the glass.
Or your mouth goes weird and the woman in the offie
can't understand you.
If you think about it, Howie, you can't really drink too much
because you pass out.
Nature will look after you.
- Yeah. I do feel considerably more relaxed now. - Yeah!
Damn straight. And we've only just started.
Two more pints, please, Vod.
Uh, yeah.
Just could one of you maybe pretend to give me
money in case Reuben's watching?
Oh, my God!
They're coming! Everyone just do what you'd normally do.
Er, so everyone, this is Luca.
Er, Luca, everyone!
Er...
Just ignore that guy, Luca - he's just here about renting a room.
OK. So, welcome to the mad house!
Sorry about the mess, we weren't expecting anyone.
What's your poison, Luca? We've got wine, we've got beer...
Oh, well, it's only, like, 3pm. So...
Pimms o'clock! Good man.
No, I just mean, it's quite early.
Not for us, lad,
cos we're on it dawn till dusk.
And, of course, after dusk, because then it is the evening.
We do also sometimes get our geek on, despite the obvious party vibes.
It's not all one long, boozy fuckfest!
But it mainly is. Erm, you should ask Vod.
She's our resident Gazza!
Right, Vod?
Vod?
Huh?
Yeah, whatever. Can you, er, keep it down a bit?
I'm trying to do my dissertation.
Yeah, right - good one. Classic!
So, Luca, the word on the street is that you're after
the 411 of what being a student is all about?
- Am I right? - Yeah, sort of.
Well, I'm the President of the Union here in Manchester,
so I know a thing or two about that.
Are you the one that tried to fire my mum?
I am, actually, yeah, erm,
but I don't want to go into details, but I'm afraid
your mother is a traitor. - Let's not get bogged down in that,
let's just give him a sense of what it's like, hm?
OK, Luca. You definitely want to go to university! It's amazing!
Erm, you get really pissed.
You work really hard and you have sex with people that you
won't like at all, uh, but in a really fun way.
Yeah, I mean, there's a lot of faeces that goes along with it,
obviously.
Local people hate you, the nightlife's jizz,
the societies are fucking lame, tutors don't give a shit
and you're always broke.
But, er...
...er...
Oh, fuck, I can't remember what the but was.
- Anyway, I guess it's only three years. - Yeah.
Sorry, guys, I think my mum might have given you the wrong idea.
I mean, it's not that I don't want to go to uni,
it's more that I just don't see the point.
Go on, this'll be good.
Well, I've had offers from two places to do Food Science, but I've
no idea if the courses are actually any good, or what I'll do after.
The only thing I know for sure is I'll come out of it with
a huge fucking debt and probably have to
work as a pot-wash in some kitchen somewhere...
But you'll have a degree, Luca.
That's worth, you know, a lot.
Why, though?
I mean, how's it going to be useful to me later?
Look, what do you want to do?
Well, erm, I don't know.
Er, perhaps work in radio or something?
- And you study? - Geology, yeah.
Well, exactly.
So what's the point?
I mean, how's your Geology degree going to help you with that?
It's just so you've got some piece of paper that's cost a huge
chunk of your future earnings, which will probably be shit anyway.
You never know, he might become a famous recording artist!
I'm just fucking wit'ya, Kingsley.
Kingsley?
Yes, sorry, no - I just had a tiny panic attack there.
I mean, no, I see what you're saying, Luca, but that is wrong.
You do need a degree.
I definitely do. I'm going to study in the States after this.
That's fine, but you can't do that forever,
you can't just keep studying. - Erm, actually, yes, you can.
If you seriously injure someone in your practical, er, you can
repeat a year. - But I mean long term, though.
You're putting all this time
and money into a system that might have nothing for you.
The number of unemployed graduates are going up,
starting salaries are going down, UK industries are
out-sourcing, down-sizing.
Do you know they reckon it'll take 30 years for the average
student to pay off their student loan. - What?
And that's if you even get a job.
Luca. Sweetheart.
Once I have my Sushi restaurant, you can come and put the soya sauce
in the little plastic fish or something.
- What you on about? - I'm going to be a Sashimi Master.
You got any training in that, then?
No, but I have got an excellent set of knives.
Cos it takes like, ten years.
Hmm. Ridiculous!
Here is your tea.
Oh, my God, have you left the bag in?
Is, is that not right?
Get out, you pervert!
The thing is, Luca, university gives you really valuable life experience
that you wouldn't get otherwise, at home, or...
Look, I'm going to move to Seoul for three years, learn Korean
then try and get work out there. - Do that. Go to Korea.
- Sounds amazing. - It can't just be that simple though, can it?
I mean, you can't just "go to Korea".
I don't remember that being an option on the fucking UCAS form.
- You can't just do that! - Maybe I should go to Korea...
No, no, no, stop it! Because this is what you do.
You go to school and then you leave and you go to uni,
that's... There are, there are, there are reasons for this.
I haven't just wasted three years of my fucking life for no reason!
I'd say, if you want to work in radio,
that you definitely have wasted...
No, no, Luca, just, just...
just shut up! - JP: Oh, my God!
How can it take ten years to learn how to cut up a fucking tuna?
But, Geology's safe, it's...
My mum said it was safe. It is a safe degree.
Rocks are safe.
I think he's going to be sick. Pass the cone!
Unless, there's something I'm not seeing, Kingsley.
Unless there's something special about uni that I don't know...
Yeah, there is actually, mate -
- I'm fucking your mum!
- What? - Yeah.
You come in here, all clever,
with your thick eyebrows, and your cool name,
shitting on everything with your FACTS.
Well, yes,
I am...
in a relationship with your mum,
and I thought now would be a good and mature time to tell you.
SHOUTING OVER EACH OTHER
MUSIC: Dancing In The Moonlight by Thin Lizzy
PHONE RINGS
Are you going to get that?
Um, no.
You're going to have to face her at some point.
I'm also going to have to die at some point. That doesn't mean
I have to do it now, just because it has to happen anyway.
When you do speak to her, can you tell her from me
that her son is an absolute rotter.
Sushi was my last hope.
Now I haven't got that, I'm doomed to become one of those very
smart tramps that you see outside a chemist...
Can you shut up, please, JP?
I keep accidentally writing words you're saying in my dissertation.
I've just called Hemingway a rotter.
Which, thinking about it, is actually fine.
Oh, everything's fine for you. You've got a job.
Look at you. Strutting around with your tea-towel
and your corkscrew like Deborah fucking Meaden.
You're safe. Us three are fucked.
PHONE RINGS
OK, shit, let's do this...
Pronto.
OK, sorry, fine! Hi!
For the record JP, I'm in a slightly different Venn.
Given that I'm Union President
and I'm launching an amazing new poetry prize that's going to
inspire and energise all of us.
I mean, not rubbing it in or anything,
but my CV is basically bomb-proof.
Whereas mine'll look like a poster for a lost dog.
Just take the bank job then, JP!
The suit is clearly your destiny.
I can't wear the suit because I sashimi-ed the suit.
If I put it on I'd look like I was in an explosion in a cartoon.
Who's up for darts?
I have a 20 pence down payment on the next game.
Er, Vod, can I have a Randy Dragon, please?
Er, yeah, I think you've had enough. Hence why you keep mingling.
Mingling is polite. I am not pissed!
I'm just sociable.
Another beer please, Vod.
Oh, yeah, and another Prosecco while you're up there.
So how are my new tenants?
Awful. It's like a total fucking charisma vacuum.
It's like watching Michael Owen interview Tim Henman.
They're like, "Uh, does the kitchen have spoons?
"Do the bedrooms have black mould?" Who cares!
- Fucking saddos! - Yes, right!
Drunk Howard would be right in that house next year,
this man here is officially a laugh.
Actually, Vod, I'll have a Peach Schnapps.
No, you won't, I've just poured you a beer.
That's all right, I'll have that.
No, you won't, pisshead. You've got water.
You've got beer.
- But I want Peach Schnapps... - Well, you've got a beer!
Ooh, she's finally "schnapped"!
HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER
Yeah! "Schnapped" like Schnapps.
- That's funny! I love drunk Howard! - Hey, mate! That's my 20p!
I'm up next!
- Ooh, Vod? Prosecco? - I'll take a Whisky chaser.
Right. OK, stop!
Right, all of you!
Enough of this shit.
I am not your personal fucking drinks servant!
That would be a butler.
Oh, my God, JP, shut up!
Please just fuck off, OK? I can't handle this.
This job is meant to be easy.
I'm supposed to be revising and... and...
and eating Wasabi Peas and trying to earn some money.
Not baby-sitting the bloody Bash Street Kids. I like this job.
And I need it.
So, yeah, I'm not letting you lot fuck it up for me.
Right, no more freebies,
no more mates rates.
Party's over, people.
Cough up or piss off.
Hey, guys? Has anyone seen Vod?
I'm looking for my fun friend,
but she appears to have been replaced by a robot.
Of course it's my 20p, you total arsehole!
Don't question me, there's an honour system.
I mean, you start doubting whose 20p it is, it all falls apart.
I mean, I'll do a fucking fingerprint analysis on it if you want!
- Calm down! - All right, fine then call the police in!
- Get the forensics boys in. - Howard, calm down!
SHOUTING
Happy now, you queue-jumping prick, huh?
Oi! Stop it!
- Off! - I'm going to contact the bloody ombudsman.
GLASS SMASHES
I think I'm going to be sick.
I'm sorry.
To be fair, you are going out with me, all he really did was find out.
He didn't "find out", you told him.
Did you even talk to Luca about University?
- I, I did... - And, how did that go?
- Well it... What did, what did Luca say? - He didn't.
He called me a paedophile for 40 minutes and then he drove back to his father's.
Yeah, OK, it went really well in that case.
Erm, he had one logistical question that I wanted to ask you about...
If it turns out that someone realises that they're doing
the wrong course and that they actually,
hate it and don't want to work in it, can they get their money back?
That is so typical Luca. He never commits to anything.
I know, yeah, so, erm, if he did drop out,
in his final term, say, erm, could he, erm,
would he still have to pay for the full three years?
- Yes, of course. - What if it was a mistake?
Studying a subject that you hate for three years is not a mistake.
Yeah, but I think maybe it can be?
No, no. A mistake is like a... a slipping on ice,
or buying a hat that is too small.
No! You are talking about a gross error in judgment
followed by years of cowardice. - I, I suppose I am.
And no-one would expect to get their money back.
No, no, this would be entirely Luca's responsibility
and I will insist that he finish his degree.
What's that? Who is that cheque for?
Uh, it's for someone called Mr Mind-Your-Own-Fucking-Business,
you don't work for me any more.
Why aren't there more people?
Did you tweet about this?
Yes. Yes, I alerted all of your 27 followers, yeah.
Piece of shit!
Nas, could you do something about that?
Like what?
Deploy the Student Union tanks?
THUD!
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
Who's the egg-chaser now?
Fucking hell!
- Nas, do something. Stop it. - Go on! That's it!
- Nas, do something about this. - Well, don't open another box!
What's that?
That is Ken Hom's stir-fried chicken and chilli with basil,
I thought it might help with your hangover.
Thank you. And er, sorry for being lairy at your new housemates.
I put them off moving in with me anyway apparently.
I was, and I quote, "overbearing and unbearable".
I've decided to send drunk Howard back to Siberia.
Though he may be more chatty and better at wordplay than I,
he is nevertheless, a bit of a dick.
- Yeah. - And while sober Howard faces
a lifetime of struggling to understand humans and their subtext
and sport,
I kind of know where I stand with him, as in me.
And I don't hate it.
Hence why I've decided to apply for the Ordnance Survey job.
Attaboy, Howard!
OK...
Right,
question number one. "Do you thrive on being relied upon?"
Uh, no.
OK. I'm just going to put "yes" for that.
Hmm. Question two?
"Reasons for applying?"
Erm, that's an incredibly complicated question. Erm...
I'm just going to put "Love of maps".
Six broken glasses, three broken chairs,
then there's the free drinks...
In total we're talking... 380 quid.
Please don't fire me, OK, Reuben?
I really need this job and, erm...
Nothing like this can ever happen again.
I'm taking it out of your wages till you're square.
Thank you, Reuben.
Look, I won't let you down. I promise.
I'm really looking forward to the meeting, bro. Big time.
You tell Jonty Bonty that Prentice Junior is climbing aboard
HMS Moneybags and getting the fuck out of Dunkirk...
There is just one tiny problem with the suit.
MUSIC: Crazy Horses by The Osmonds
♪ Crazy horses all got riders
♪ And they're you and I...
♪ Crazy horses... ♪
I've only gone and done it again!
I have nicked a barrel of beer!
Oi, everyone!
♪ ..Never stop and they never die
♪ They just keep on puffin' How they multiply
♪ Crazy horses Will they never halt?
♪ If they keep on moving Then it's all our fault... ♪
SHE GROANS
- Holy shit! Is that your bath water? - Randy Dragon.
Little house gift from me. I just cracked it open like a big egg.
What happened to the whole "needing a job" thing?
I did, mate. And I told 'em to shove it up their jacks, didn't I?
Oi, put this bird in a cage
and she will bend the bars with her beak and nick the cuttlefish.
It's what I do.
She's back...
Everyone! Vod's back and she's brought booze!
Yes! Vintage Vod!
It's like you read my mind.
Why can I smell beer?
I've tipped a barrel of beer in the tub, Howard!
On my way!
Oh, God, why have you done this?
I wanted to just have a bath and just bang out my dissertation.
Pissertation, more like!
Great.
Look we've got a bath of booze on our hands here,
so you need to get with the fucking programme, Oregon.
Because this is what being at university is all about.
Exactly. I wish Luca could see this, the smug little shit.
Ciao, Luca. Kingsley here.
Er, just to let you know that being at Uni's really rubbish.
Look we've got a bathful of beer!
CHEERING AND SHOUTING
Oh, no! What a shame!
Good luck getting that in Korea, you twat.
This is what you're missing out on, Luca, you lanky bitch!
Hi, Luca! Erm, so...
"Air pollution, particularly vehicle pollution,
"is an increasing problem in Seoul.
"Cos this can cause minor respiratory problems
"such as sinusitis, dry throat and irritated eyes."
So, er, good luck trying to breathe in Korea, Luca, you idiot!
Erm, Luca, I forgive you for punching me by the way.
Don't show this to your mum, please, mate.
I'm going to love it, aren't I?
Tommo says they've got a free 24 hour canteen,
whisky lounge, sleeping pods for pulling all-nighters,
so, that'll be fun, won't it?
Fun, worky, boozy sleepovers...
What are you doing?
OK, I need you to stop talking now.
Right, but...
Look, I know I said last time was the last time,
but it's actually this time. Definitely.
HE MUTTERS
Sh, sh, sh.
MUMBLING
What?
Can you pop in a cheeky pinkie again?
Yeah.
MUSIC: Crazy Horses by The Osmonds