# I'm not sick, but I'm not well
# And I'm so hot
♪ Cos I'm in hell. ♪
The programme contains strong language throughout and adult humour.
Education, education, education. Ian coming over?
Oh, yeah. Got some new Mandarin flash cards. Take it up a level.
I see you're sticking with "the programme".
Poor little bastard doesn't even get a Jaffa Cake.
I'm turning Ian into a super-toddler,
the chocolate reward in sight but always just out of reach.
He is going to learn to defer his gratification so damn hard.
When are you finally going to get your gratification, Mark?
I don't know. Sort of all at once when I finally dive into my pension pot.
Ejaculate into a pile of M&S cashmere jumpers and cruise brochures.
Oi, Jez?
I'd never masturbate into cashmere. A nightmare to wash!
Oh, hi, Sophie. Where's...? I'm sorry, but don't start.
Ian's with my mum. Is it OK if we do it tomorrow?
Meet us at the Kid Kave.
But I've been preparing all sorts of great IQ games.
I've stuffed a pinata.
It's filled with nature facts
with the odd carob-covered raisin to keep his morale up.
Look, I'm sorry, Mark, I need to talk to you. Have you got any beers in?
This isn't America, Sophie.
I don't keep random beers in. I might have some rum,
but you probably... Fine, rum.
'She's a bit rum keen.'
So, er...
what's happened? What happened with Ian?
Oh, it's fucking Duncan. Obviously, you're going to feel jealous.
He's around the whole time. I know how you feel about Duncan.
'I love Duncan!
'Sexless, unthreatening Duncan,
'teaching him maths
'and tag-teaming the Mandarin flash cards.'
Duncan's a great guy,
but he's a shit. Oh.
OK, because since Duncan's been around... Ugh!
..Ian's scores have been through the roof.
"Scores"? Have you been testing our son? No!
I mean, yes.
Just a bit of basic intelligence testing.
I do it to me and Jez, too, just to keep track.
Yeah, well, Duncan, you know how he tutors?
Of course!
When I saw how Ian could hold a pen, I nearly shat.
Well, I think he's getting a bit fucking cosy with one of the mums.
Alison. You remember Alison?
"Oh, look at my floaty dress, Sophie. Is it too much for the pub?"
Oh. Right.
What do I do? I'm pretty sure he's having an affair.
Well, I-I think you shouldn't be too hasty.
Maybe everything will run its course with Duncan and Alison.
You think I should wait until he's bored of humping her?
I just think Duncan sounds like a real catch,
and...people are...
multifaceted.
'Just let him get Ian started on the viola and Ancient Greek.'
Remember Grandma's Boner, mid-noughties,
when we teamed up with Perpetual Spinach, did a bit of turbo folk?
All the Whores of Malta.
Exactly. Well, Whores of Malta's been picked up.
It's on a skills video for a Hertha Berlin defender.
Oh, wow!
Yeah. Plus, I've got a cheque here for you for 250 quid.
Oh, my God!
Mark!
I've done a thing!
Do you think when I do a search this will come up?
Cos when Joe searched, nothing really came up apart from some
shit I wrote in a forum about how
Moby was overrated and should be killed
and his DNA expunged from humanity.
Hm... And, you know,
cold light of day, it looks a bit much.
Yeah, no, no, no, this should come up now on the internet.
"Lyrics by Super Hans."
Yeah, you did the lyrics solo, did you?
Er, yeah.
'Definitely, definitely didn't.'
Yeah... Pretty sure I...helped.
No, don't think so.
Anyway, it's cool, yeah?
Oh, yeah, it's cool.
But I just think, would it be cool
to change the credit to a shared credit, though, do you think?
Sure. Sure, I'll speak to the guy. It'll be cool.
Although there's a small chance it might not be possible.
Cool. Understood. But you'll have a word.
Absolutely.
But the headlines are, we did a track, everybody loves it.
The rest is just bean counting for the bread-heads, yeah?
Yeah, truth to power, my friend.
'I need to get away and count my beans.
'I think he's trying to take some of my bloody beans!'
Do... Do you want some bread to go with that, as ballast?
You're my ballast, Mark.
Well, thank you...
You weigh me down.
You stop me from flying off.
You're my ballast, Mark!
Happy to be of service.
'Stop calling me your ballast!'
Hey!
This may sound like a crazy idea,
but why don't you move into Nana's cottage with us, Mark?
I'm-I'm sorry, how do you mean?
With me and Ian.
Fuck Duncan! He can drive around
in Alison's Mazda like a little pimp.
You move in with us, to Nana's cottage.
We could be a fucked-up family!
You're my ballast, Mark!
'Let's see how she likes it.'
You're my ballast, too, Sophie.
'I think I'll be saying no to a lifetime of
'passive-aggressive mutual ballast-calling.'
April!
I'm really sorry for turning up like this, but I've been walking
round the block, and I just wanted to talk.
'Talk? Yeah? Very quietly at the door?'
'Do come in and meet my ex-wife, the drunk...'
Um, sorry, just... I just want to put everything on the table.
'Get this shit off the table!'
I know we've had a nice time together,
there's obviously this mutual attraction...
'Are we having sex on the table?'
But the kiss, that was wrong.
'Not wrong, right!'
We crossed a line, and I don't think we should see each other any more.
Look, can we talk tomorrow?
I'm taking my son to a play centre, the Kid Kave.
You could bring your niece. It might be fun.
I'm sorry, Mark, I...
Goodbye might be simpler.
'Oh, knife in the guts!'
Goodbye, April.
Let the dream crumble.
'Lovely, crumbly dream that I can't even eat with custard.'
Who was that?
Someone from the past.
Ah, you love people from the past,
don't you, Mark? Like Napoleon.
Yes...
But it wasn't Napoleon. Ah, that's a shame.
'Butter the toast.
'Eat the toast.
'Shit the toast.
'God, life's relentless.
'The April door closes, the Sophie door opens.
'The loveless marriage.
'Cut off the cock and stick it in a jar.
'Might be a relief.' I slept on it,
but actually, I couldn't sleep
because I became filled with this boiling feeling of rage
and now I've actually decided
it's the worst thing that ever happened. Jez...
Joe's beginning to realise that I'm a loser.
It's very important that he doesn't realise that I'm a loser.
Because I'm not a loser.
And would an aggressive campaign to claim shared credit
for the lyrics on a little bit of song on an internet football video
make you look like a winner, would you say? Yes!
I-I really think you need to let this go.
Take the advice of a man who's been scientifically proven
to have above-average intelligence.
Oh, not the IQ test.
I wasn't concentrating.
'So what if I had a bit of help?
'It's only the dunderheads with their low IQs
'who don't figure out the way to win
'is looking stuff up on the internet.'
I don't need to take a stupid IQ test to know that
I'm three times as intelligent as you. Oh, really?
And what's three times 133?
'Three 100s and 30 and 30 and 30.
'But then all the threes...
'Is it a trick question?'
Mark, no-one does maths these days.
We've all got calculators in our pockets,
just like all our maths teachers said we wouldn't.
Anyway, this proves nothing.
Probably most people are below average.
Oh, fuck!
Hans says it can't be changed.
Apparently, the net has run out of web space
and they don't have enough bytes left to add my name.
Do you think he might be taking advantage of you
because you're mentally subnormal and have a brain the size of a pea?
This track is my Citizen Kane.
The lyrics you want to claim credit for,
that's the electronic voice saying,
"ATOL protected, ATOL protected"?
Yes! Those are my words.
'Inspired...'
I remember because I was reading
the small print on a plane ticket when I came up with them.
Copied them. Discovered them.
Hang on!
It was your plane ticket.
You went into a rant about the Civil Aviation Authority
and how ATOL protection wasn't something to make light of.
That sounds very believable. Yes!
You've cracked the case.
You're not thinking of getting back with Sophie?
A bit of a depressing backward step?
Yeah, well, April's kaput.
Maybe that's just life,
your expectations get ground down and down
until finally you settle for a life
that would have mortified you 20 years ago
but now seems like a blessed relief.
It's the journey of life, like
Radio 1, Radio 2, Classic FM,
Heart, Magic, dead.
Mm. Yeah.
OK. Are you ready?
"My recollection, so far as it goes, is that Jeremy did indeed
"make a significant contribution to the lyrics in question,
"ie the words 'ATOL protected'."
Hi, Hans. I've brought you a panettone.
Sweet. What is it?
I don't know. You see them around.
Sort of like dry, old Italian cake.
Right. Wicked. Yeah, and also,
Mark had something to say. Erm...
my recollection, so far as it goes,
is that Jeremy... Look, Jez, you were there. Fine.
You were part of a creative milieu.
You contributed to engendering a vibe,
out of which emerged my lyric.
I wrote it.
I know I wrote those lyrics, cos I keep 'em
in my lyrics file. You can't remember jack shit,
because you're a crackhead
with a brain made of Swiss cheese. No, mate.
I'm straight-edge now. I walk the line.
Molly won't even let me live-stream the Spurs.
We're going to come for you in the night.
He might, but I definitely won't.
Look, calm down, will ya?
Sit in the bath and have a Magnum.
Wanker!
'Yeah, fuck off, Hans.
'You're the fifth Beatle.
'I'm the other four.'
Come on, Jez, let's go.
I've got to get to the Kid Kave.
Hans's file! The proof!
It's in there. And because I've got
a genius IQ...
'Below-average IQ.'
..I've cracked the code of the spare key.
It's like cracking Enigma, isn't it,
looking under all the different flowerpots?
Oh, Christ, Jez, not burgling!
OK, I'm here to borrow a brolly.
If anyone comes, I'm saying I popped in to borrow a brolly.
Here we go.
Apple grievances, Lemmy...lyrics.
Nothing?! Nothing at all?!
Right, fuck him.
Revenge. Revenge is the sexy man's justice.
Ohh... Ooh!
Someone who is expecting cornflakes
is going to get a big fucking multi-hit of Shreddies.
Boom! That is inconvenient!
OK, I'm going to lick these apples
and put his bank card in the freezer.
You start swapping the CDs into the wrong cases.
OK, I'm going.
Wait!
Watch this. 'Oh, Jesus. I'm a backup burglar.
'I'm a burglar's PA.'
No, Jeremy, really?
Goldfish in the Shreddies?
Is that your budget version of a horse's head in the bed?
It's the free gift that's going to send him clinically insane.
Well, for God's sake leave the snake alone.
Here, fishy.
'And the IQ testing is complete.'
If I could go back in time,
maybe I wouldn't have split up with Sophie in the first place.
Where would you go, though, if you could actually go back, in time?
So many choices. Periclean Athens, Egypt under Rameses I,
the Ziggurat of Ur... God!
I think I'd probably go back to the '50s.
The 1950s? Jeremy, I'm talking about
seeing a civilisation that's unimaginably different.
So am I. Thick, thick shakes,
real fat burgers, big Chevvies, cheerleaders.
But Socrates? If you went for 14AD,
you could nab Augustus and Jesus.
Nyah.
"Nyah"?
If not the '50s, then the '60s.
See the Rolling Stones and have a Coke. Jeremy,
you can literally still do exactly that.
I'm talking about seeing them in their prime, drinking Coke out of a bottle.
'Enjoy Cokeless Rome, dickhead!'
Jesus.
This is where we bring them now, the poor fuckers?
I mean, God, net them up,
bag 'em and tag 'em.
Oh, it looks fun! You can have a cappuccino while they play.
All I can think about is death.
Better than the fucking park, mate.
You really want to kill yourself at the park, all right?
So, Sophie - are you going to pull on the iron underpants,
tie your knob to the Bosch and just run yourself over with the Morphy Richards?
It's a real three-piper.
If I say yes, I'll regret it, that's certain.
Claustrophobic, depressing,
mouldering resentment. Corrigan classic.
But if I say no, I'll also definitely regret it,
overwhelming feelings of regret, guilt and sadness.
The old familiar. Mark?
Wow, my son.
Hi, Ian!
Ian-Ian-Ian-Ian!
How are you doing, little fella?
'Flicker of recognition? Basically uninterested.'
Hey there, little guy! High-five! 'Ugh, the high-five.
'Like the grey squirrel, it will drive the handshake to extinction eventually.'
Come on, little fella, let Uncle Jeremy put you in the rage cage.
So, what are you thinking, cowboy? The big offer? Happy families?
Ian. It's all about Ian.
You know what? Let's do it.
Wow, just like that? Screw it, let's give it a go.
I think it could work, maybe, in some weird way?
I think maybe it might. Do you think we'll be unhappy?
Very. Put it there, partner.
'What this phlegm has put together, let no man break asunder.'
Erm, look, Mark, I've got to go.
Duncan wants to have a drink, the total shit.
And I need to phone Dad, tell him about you. He's going to piss blood!
Ha... Er, OK...
Want to cry and be sick at the same time, do you? No! I-I'm excited.
It's... It's exciting.
'The first of the million lies
'that are going to make up our terrible relationship.'
See you later!
Ian's in the fun pit working the plastics.
What have I done? What have I done?
He's being detained at capitalism's pleasure.
I said yes. OK...
You, my friend, are a stone-cold maniac.
Leftovers? I'm broke. Can't you just bank the YouTube money?
It could weaken my claim. The claim must not be weakened.
What the fuck is that?
W-What's in there?
In where? I don't know what you're talking about.
Your bag just moved! What have you...
OK, I needed a little...margin,
collateral, to stop Super Hans in his tracks.
His...
snake.
You brought a snake to a children's play centre?
Oh, Mark, don't make this into a thing.
Is it venomous?
Probably not. I picked it up with an oven glove,
but it didn't look venomous.
It didn't "look" venomous?
It looked perfectly chilled out when I put it in the bag.
And what about now that it's been confined
to the bag for a couple of hours?
It's fine. It's double-bagged.
I'm going to call Super Hans, get him to come over here
and we'll settle this thing once and for all.
This children's play centre is your designated snake handover arena?
He can't come at me in the kid farm, can he? It's perfect.
Hi, Mark.
Jeremy...
April! What are you doing here?
Sorry, I know I said...
But I've had more time to think.
You did invite me. 'She came!'
This is my niece, Hayley.
Hi!
Er, hello, Hayley, erm... Take a seat!
I'll throw her in, if you like. Into the wipe-clean penitentiary.
'She actually came!'
Hans, it's Jez. Come and meet me at the Kid Kave.
Just get to Thornton Heath and follow the screaming.
I wanted to have a big talk with Angus last night.
He was OK, but he was writing to the Pope.
He sometimes thinks he might be able to heal the Great Schism.
'Cuckoo!' Intellectually, he's scintillating,
but he'd never take coke and throw an iPad out the window.
Yes, well, that's just how I roll.
'Finally, I'm the Ferrari,
'he's the fucking Volvo.' Mark?
Would you like to do something rather naughty?
'Oh, April!'
This is quite naughty.
Naughty naughty! Blimey!
'"Disabled toilet baby changing shelf,"
'the five sexiest words in the English language.
'I hope my son's OK with Jeremy
'and the snake.
'No, be in the moment!'
Erm, I don't want to break the spell,
but should I make haste to purchase some condoms, perchance?
Oh, it's fine, it'll be OK.
'I wonder what kind of OK. "No baby" OK,
'or, "OK, we're having a baby".
'Quite interested, but a bit rude to ask.'
Well, that was fun. That was fun!
And does it mean...
I think it means something.
'Lovely something!
'Oh, he's gone totally mental.'
He's saving money to spend on a never-ending court battle.
Jarndyce versus Jarndyce?
Exactly.
'Ah, April, you are the one.'
I was looking for you. Hayley's throwing a wobbly.
Oh, shit. I'll, erm, take her outside for some fresh air.
Hayley? Where the hell were you?
Well, I... Come on, let's go outside.
We...
We just did it in the disabled loo!
Mark! You are on fire today!
Shall I alert all the other women in here
in case you try and hump them or move in with them?
So, what are you thinking with Sophie?
April. It's got to be April. Exactly.
Me and Sophie and Ian, it was a crazy scheme.
It would probably do him so much harm, living between warring parents.
That's the line.
Yeah, do what you want, mate, shovel the kid into the kid pit.
Better call Sophie, see if she minds
picking up Ian later from the flat. Where is Ian?
Dunno.
I thought you were keeping an eye on him!
I'm not a professional childminder, Mark.
Anyway, I probably don't have a high enough IQ.
The least you could do was keep an eye on Ian while I...
Hump someone else's wife in the disabled toilet?
I'm not a member of your entourage, Mark.
Ian! Ian!
Ooh, Mark, mate, something wonky this way comes.
Good luck.
'Oh, fuck! She's not here. We never talked. The deal never happened.'
H-Have you been...? Have you had a drink?
Why, am I not allowed to? Mark's booze patrol?
'She just loves wine.'
I had a ding-dong with Duncan.
And he's off to Alison with her little fuck-me Mazda.
Oh... But I don't have
a fucking Mazda. Sorry, I've got a fucking Micra.
I've made my decision.
Dad might think it's mental. Everyone might think it's mental.
'It's definitely mental.'
Look, why don't I call you a cab and you can go home
and then we can have a big chat about everything later, yeah?
Ah, cool your heels, let's have a coffee.
No, Soph, I need to find Ian!
I should never have left him with Jez.
Ian? Ian!
Oh, for God's sake, relax.
It's not like he's on the M25.
Ian?
'Oh, this is murder
'on my back.' You know what?
Duncan's a prick. Fuck him.
The naughty lady likes funny words, cos she's feeling funny.
Have you seen a little boy?
Mark, you're freaking him out.
He's not answering.
Why aren't you answering? What have you done with him?!
Ian! I like you, Mark.
But I don't love you.
I hate you. Noted.
Oh, this is a disaster.
What if he's hurt himself? No!
You show me a sharp corner.
What if he's wandered out through an emergency exit?
No, they'll lock them all.
They lock the emergency exits?! What if there's a fire?!
Oh, Christ!
I'm going to have a little lie down, Mark. I'm tired.
OK, you have a lie down in the ball pit. I'll find Ian
and then we'll have a big chat about everything.
'A big chat during which
'I will reverse out of our agreement
'as elegantly as a man backing his car
'into the entire peloton of the Tour de France.'
So, look, I spoke to Molly. Y'know?
She thinks you're a dong.
Slippery, like a...
real sketchy fucker.
Well, I think she's a small-minded, two-faced buzz-killing machine.
But...
she said I needed to man up, have the credit changed.
She's decent, though. She is. I've always said that.
So I made the call.
Oh, wow!
Thanks, man, you put me on!
Amazing. They found some more web space, then? Yeah.
Yeah, they must have, er, deleted some old photos, an' that.
And, erm, have you been back to your flat since we spoke?
Just out of interest.
No. Why?
I kind of broke in, looking
for evidence, and...
I sort of...
killed your fish.
You killed Flop? Jesus Christ!
Yeah.
Flop was one of the good guys, man! He was old-school.
I know. I'm sorry. I always liked Flop.
And there's one other thing I did that I shouldn't have.
Not Flip as well? No. No.
I feel bad about this, but...
I took...
'Oh, fuck.'
What? I took...
this.
Er... It's fine.
Well, no.
They cost money, and the bottom line is... 'Where's the fucking snake?'
..it's your bag, and I stole it.
And I feel...
'Where the fuck is he?'
..incredibly ashamed of that.
Oh. Er...
no worries, dude.
'Oh, I've lost my child.
'I'm such a terrible, terrible human in every single respect.'
Hans just caved. We won.
Oh, good.
Only downside is...the snake escaped. What?!
I can't believe it would do that. So...sneaky!
Yeah. Who could believe
a snake would be so duplicitous?
They're so famously reliable, snakes.
The good news is, I googled it and it's totally not venomous.
'So reassuring...'
What are you doing? It's Ian.
I can't find him anywhere.
So many bloody kids.
I need to somehow get them all cleared out, maybe shout "Fire" or...
I could tell the staff that you were a famous paedo.
That would clear the place, like Jaws at the beach.
"A famous paedo"? What?
You're very free and easy about labels.
You don't mind a bit of a bad-boy rep.
I'll need to talk to Sophie.
I think she might be balls deep.
Soph?
She's out cold.
Oh, God, April! She can't see
my sort of wife who I've sort of agreed to get back together with
and is sort of a total fucking mess.
I mean, you could... Bury the body?
I was going to say wake her up and get her a coffee.
But Shallow Ball Grave?
She's pretty much already buried.
Well, don't fuck about.
If you're going to bury her, bury her.
This is fine.
It's just a nice, multicoloured siesta.
OK. Good.
This is good. Bury Sophie,
find Ian, leave with April.
Do you think she'll be able to breathe in her grave?
Of course! The air holes are numerous.
OK. Just push her head down.
It's poking up a bit. Just need to weigh her down more.
There we go.
She's gone. She's gone, Mark. You're cool.
Hey, Mark, there's Ian.
Great!
Although, do you think he witnessed the burial?
Er...
'He looks OK. That's right, son, push it all down.
'My pension can go on therapy.'
Hey there, little buddy!
Hey, Mark. Hi!
Hayley was fine, but she was
babbling something about a snake.
Oh, God! Well, let's get the hell out of here.
Back to mine for a wine?
Yeah, OK, why not?
Mark, erm, I just want to say,
I'm really pleased I came to see you. Really pleased.
Me, too, April. Me, too.
Mark?
There's, erm... There's a...
Wha'...? Oh, God!
That's fine...
I-I imagine.
Probably some funny buried clown.
'Oh! I should have used more balls.'
What the...?
Mark! Why did you bury me?
I didn't bury you.
If you don't want to move in after all, you don't have to bury me,
just send a fucking text!
Mark? It's OK.
Probably been in there for months.
Just some kind of homeless ball-pit witch.
It doesn't feel quite right leaving a snake in a child's soft-play area.
'Burying your wife alive, it just has such an unfortunate ring.'
Maybe we should leave a note.
Saying...? "Sorry... Snake"?
Hmm...