- What did she give you? - A key.
It's very valuable. It's worth more than you ever dreamed of.
That vicar, he's like a real big mega mystery.
Good bye, Dudley.
You can't go. You'll miss the Cross Ball.
VALERIE: But what should I wear?
Take this. Keep it safe.
How'd you like to do a middle-aged man a favour?
You're the fucking monster that killed my mother!
I am your mother.
You learn that speech.
Mercy want you word perfect.
Your father...
His name is Shirley.
I had sex with my mother when I was 15 and nothing's ever come close.
Come to the ball.
Forget him.
SHIRLEY: Understand? Do you get it now?
Lola?
(Rhythmic thudding)
(Ruby and Chris groaning)
Where's Lola?
- Where'd you get the tattoo? - Me dad.
He had the exact same one. Why do you ask?
- I've always wanted a tattoo. - Get one.
A little rose above your belly button. Snake on your thigh.
- Why a cross? - Tradition. It's a family crest.
The Woolfs used to be Crosses years ago.
Me dad changed his name.
I've got a birthmark as well.
You can see it if you like.
You're all right.
You've got one, at the base of your spine.
Er, no, it's a scar.
I crashed my bike when I was little.
Ah.
I'd like another look.
- What are you doing? - What?
I just want to make amends.
Don't.
I thought you loved it with me.
I was lying.
I think we both know that's not true.
Don't! Don't...
No!
(Moderna Muchacha playing)
(Glass clinking, music stops)
Welcome, everyone, to the 120th annual Cross Ball.
As Blackpool people, our business is founded on license, on enjoyment, on pleasure.
If you're anything like me,
I'm sure you're happiest indulging in the cravings of the flesh.
A glass of iced gin, the first cigarette of the day,
the simple act of masturbation.
(People gasping)
These are the harmless pleasures that oil the wheels of life.
(Chuckling nervously)
They certainly help me get through the day.
To that end I would like to make an announcement.
The Tower itself, that symbol of Blackpool's entrepreneurial spirit,
is to be redeveloped by one of our most civic-minded citizens,
the patron and sponsor of tonight's wonderful event, Mercy Woolf.
Blackpool will sport a new venue.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Europe's new premiere destination venue,
La Tour Erotique.
(Sobbing)
What's wrong with you?
You and me.
You don't think we could be together? I mean, you don't think that could happen?
No.
But I've got money, love.
I've got lots of money. You know, you'd want for nothing.
You don't even know me.
- I could get to know you. - Don't.
I've got problems.
Things have gone wrong, yeah?
But it's not too late to start all over again.
Not with me.
Don't you like me?
Not even a bit?
I like someone else.
(Footsteps approaching)
Tonight, I acquire something that will seal my grip on this town.
You will assist me.
I'm no use. I'm a spent force, a cripple. I can barely walk.
Get out there and work that room.
You know, the Cross Ball is always something special.
Last year, I had an experience.
I met a monkey with a flower garland.
Fellatio took place.
I was the recipient.
And the only thing that marred the encounter
was that the monkey responsible never fully removed their mask or spoke.
So, I don't know their identity.
I feel all different. Maybe I could turn over a new leaf.
I could stop wearing make-up, shaving under me arms.
All pure like Julia Roberts.
- I want to speak to Lola. - She's with me.
- Are you all right? - Get out.
- Don't fucking touch me! - Look at his arm.
- I could break your neck. One snap. - No!
- You can't. - Please don't.
- I could kill you just like that. - I'm your fucking son.
- He's on his way. - Good girl.
Why don't you go and have a drink, enjoy yourself.
If anyone wants me, I'll be in the VIP room.
There's only so much common humanity I can stand.
Tim. Tim, what are you doing here?
I'm hanging with the tax collectors and the sinners, man.
Know thine enemy.
He has two horns like a lamb and speaks like a dragon.
Okay.
Listen, I'm having doubts.
I can't feel the Holy Spirit.
Go to the bar. Get me a drink. We'll break bread. We'll sup wine.
It'll be like Passover, man.
ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, the main ballroom is now open,
if you'll kindly make your way through.
We should get ourselves in there in a minute, see what's on the market.
We don't want to miss out on anything tasty.
Right.
I'm going.
- What? - Going. I'm leaving.
It's not for me, all this.
But you can't go yet, it's barely begun.
- There's a night of unbridled pleasure ahead. - I don't want it, I'm sick of it.
I want to be at home, back in Stoke. I want to be normal.
You're all just a bunch of freaks.
- Oh, Dudley, really. - And you're a bad mother.
Oh, High Noon.
Are you armed and dangerous?
It's not possible. It can't be.
- Why wouldn't she tell me? - You weren't there. You ran away.
But here I am.
A fact.
There's no running away from it now.
- I was a kid. - A fucking sob story. I don't need it.
- If I'd have known... - What, you'd have visited on weekends?
I'd have come and found you.
And said what?
I don't know.
No, you don't know much about anything, do you?
This place.
She put you here.
She burnt it down, bought it cheap. Finch didn't sell it to you, she did.
She had her own sister murdered.
And it's all because of this.
All because of what Franny hid in that crypt.
Now, why don't you do the fatherly thing and tell me where it is?
What are you doing?
You want to see that crypt?
It's right here.
I just want you to know that you're a sick, sick animal.
Only something subnormal would stoop to seducing their own child.
So speaks the great Earth Mother.
How is the little poppet? Still growing?
It's going to grow far away from here.
Far away from your clutches.
I've got no interest in you,
or your miserable walnut of a foetus.
Shirley's broken with you. You're nothing to me now.
Just remember, I've had him all these years.
He loved me.
He loves no one but his mother. That's his fate.
I made sure of that.
You never know, you might get lucky.
Have the same with your little one.
- I'm not you, Mercy Woolf. - No.
But you've got a bit of me inside you.
Just think.
It might have my eyes.
Take a look.
What's the matter? Scared of ghosts?
Carter.
SHIRLEY: Wait here.
(Muffled gasping)
(Shuffling)
CARTER: Lola?
(Sinister squealing)
CARTER: Lola?
(Switch clicking)
Lola!
I can just see myself behind the reception of a little B&B like yours, Mr Finch.
It's got potential. It's got real potential.
Sounds great. I'll just get us a refill.
Are you like a vicar, then? A trendy vicar?
Wherever two or three are gathered together, I preach.
Do you do weddings?
I'm getting married. I want something really special, really religious,
but I've got no money.
There are other means of recompense.
A debt of service to the church.
You what? I'm not singing any hymns or 'owt.
Come with me. We'll go somewhere quiet.
We can better feel the Spirit.
(Lounge music playing)
(Door creaking shut)
I'm leaving.
I thought you were going to show her what's what, make a stand.
I can't. I'm drained dry.
Look at me, Leo.
Look at my eyes.
Dead.
I think you're beautiful.
Always did.
- You're hurting me. Let me go! - Nasty.
Naughty.
(sniffing)
You pretty thing.
- What if she isn't here? What then? - She'll be there. Trust me.
I know my fucking mother.
I am as Christ. Come towards the light.
- Anoint me with your lips. - You what?
- Pay homage with your mouth. - You want sucking off?
You will be purified. Supplicate yourself, woman.
Ruby!
Mercy's waiting. Hand it over.
Nice pretty, dancing for the gentlemen.
- Now for my milking. - Not till you give me the bag.
Milking, milking.
Get it. Take her to the top.
(squealing)
Oi, Oddbod. Out of the way.
You're a fucking pretender, man! You're a false prophet.
I going to play now.
All are welcome. Come, listen to the Lord!
- What's going on? -You want to watch out for her, mate.
You want to keep her in line.
Liam, I haven't done anything.
(Hooded man squealing)
(Grunting and squealing)
Well?
- He said he was a vicar. - This has all got to change, Ruby.
- I didn't do anything, honest. - I won't stand for it.
I can't share you with any other man.
You can be really masterful, can't you?
- I mean it. I'm not pissing about. - Oh, keep going. It's a real turn-on.
- Ruby. - Seriously, it is.
- Is it? - Yeah.
ANNOUNCER: The Cross Ball proudly presents your musical entertainment tonight,
The Corinthians.
(Microphone feedback)
(Rock music playing)
Shall we?
What about Scarlett O'Hara?
Not my type.
# I was blind
# So, so blind
# You turned me on
# You turned me round
# I was lost
# So lost #
- Have you got it? - Milking. I will have my milking.
- Give it to me. - Milking!
I will have this pretty, or the thing goes swimming,
down there deep in the sea.
Get it.
(Door opening)
Oh, look. Late arrivals.
He's filled you in, I see.
Get it.
Mr Bridewell.
I told you about him. When I was a girl.
- What? - At night, me father's little games.
All this for a fucking hot water bottle?
Oh, he has his little secrets.
- Hand it over. - I will have my milking.
Charming, isn't he? Old friend of Franny's.
- (Squealing) Franny! - Helped her when she needed it. Paid the price.
She must have hid it right under his nose.
Tortured, then tamed by milkings.
Kept pliant by his monthly dose.
Attractive, isn't he? Hard to believe he was a man of the cloth.
Julian will have his milkings. The pretty will be his.
Julian will have his milkings. The pretty will be his!
(Gun firing)
Get it.
Give it to me.
Give it to me now.
- What is it? - Wax's Way.
Cash that in, produce it at the Council,
you own the whole beach, every grain of sand from Lytham St Annes to Knott End on Sea.
Whoever owns the beach owns the town.
You could build a wall, ten feet high.
All you'd see is concrete.
The threat alone's enough to extract a hefty tithe.
Fifty million a year.
Only the son can inherit.
Only one can benefit.
Now, who's it going to be?
Either one will do. It doesn't matter.
You couldn't do it.
I drowned his father in the bath.
I'm sure I can pull a trigger.
Now, put your masks on.
We'll play my father's favourite game.
Do it.
No, no. You can't! Please don't.
Eeny, meeny,
miney, mo...
Don't! Or I'll let it go.
Get it. Get it now! Or I'll kill your little whore.
- Stop him! - Leave him.
It's you I want.
You could have it all.
I'll make amends.
Don't take your eyes off her.
SHIRLEY: Come back! Leave it!
(Groaning)
Jesus.
(Ruby sobbing)
You happy now?
Got what you want?
(Siren approaching)
He's my...my boy.
Not anymore.
Give it to me.
Don't open the door.
Don't talk to her, don't listen to her.
I'll be back.
(Wheelchair creaking)
What are you going to do?