You don't just disappear in your final term.
What are you doing?
I'm searching for clues. I think
it's got to the point where we need to call someone about Howard.
It's two days into term. And where is he? What if he's dead?
He's probably just been held up at the border.
Not allowed back in since they went independent?
- Scotland didn't go independent, JP. - Yeah, I'm pretty sure they did.
He's probably up in Aberdeen,
sat on a Trident, bathing in the Queen's oil.
Do you ever even watch the news?
Kingsley, only maniac bore-holes watch the news
when it's not the Olympics or a big war.
With your pretentious imported cereals and your big, boring book.
Infinite Jest's Notes And Errata are a greater contribution to
literature than the entire oeuvre of your Joanne Kimberley Rowling.
Fascinating.
I mean, I, I think I... er, dropped off a little bit
during the sentence, but otherwise, very interesting.
OK, that's enough of the bullying now!
Josie, you don't have to suck up to him any more. You're free.
No more boring Italian films!
I liked Italian film night.
Fellini is a modern master who...
...er, something, something, something, something. Right?
Yeah. Look, JP. Right, at a certain point in your life,
basically when you grow up, your differences stop being weaknesses.
They become eccentricities. Foibles.
"Oh, hello, is that Mr Foibleman? Yes, Michael Foibleman?
"A man who eats American cornflakes because he thinks it makes him
"more interesting."
What kind of time is this for a doorbell?
That is insane.
Tomothy? Great to see you, bro, but, erm, no heads-up?
Oh, sorry, man, yeah.
You got a lecture you need to be at or some shit?
- Er, no, actually I don't... - Oh, really - that's interesting.
Because I checked the geology schedule online
and you've got a crystallography lecture in about, er, no minutes.
- Er, no, because... - Because?
- Because it's can celled today. - Why?
- Because of illness. - Whose? - The man.
- The man. Professor Paterson? - Yes. - Who I just made up?
No. Yes. I don't know.
- You don't know? - No, I do. I don't.
I'm lying, I can't keep up.
Well, it's third year, buddy, finals!
You need to sort yourself the fuck out, JP.
And that's what I'm here, in this arctic climate, to do.
- Oh, my God, Tomothy is here! - Tomothy is here?
Tomothy is here. My bro.
Mummy wanted Tom. Daddy wanted Timothy.
- Tomothy. - Tomothy has a razor brain and an acid tongue.
He is very fucking "wow". Just act normal.
No, wait, act clever. Talk! About the euro and... Fuck!
- JP, relax. - He's very organised. But he's also incredibly chilled.
- He hates ditherers. He'll like you. - I don't give a fuck.
That is just the kind of attitude Tomothy loves.
- Yeah, well, I don't give a fuck. - But he hates fakes.
Hey, Tomothy.
Yo. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?
Hmm, yeah. What are you having?
Er. What am I having? Tea. No, coffee.
- No, tea. - Shit or get off the pot, dude!
Tea. Teas all round!
OK. Howard hasn't even touched his cheese.
- Oh, I'll have it, I'm skint. - That's it, I'm calling round all the hospitals.
He's not going to be dead because of a lack of cheese consumption.
I mean, if anything, he's probably thriving on his incredibly low cholesterol.
So, everything shipshape on HMS Hartnell?
Everyone up-to-date with their rent?
Uh, basically, yeah. I mean, it's hard to remember.
It's not like I keep a big book all about the rent.
You don't have a rent book?
No, I do. I just... call it something different.
It's a good job I'm looking over the incoming direct debits.
You can't be friends to your tenants, bro.
You're a land-LORD not a land-MATE.
You need to pull an Uncle Royston, get busy with
the 12 bore, start randomly shooting up the grain stores.
Spread a little fear.
Because whoever Violet Nordstrom is, she is taking
the piss like this is Nando's and she has unlimited piss refills.
Er, I better go! Laterz, haterz.
Bro, don't be horrible to Vod, be horrible to Kingsley.
And who the fuck is Eskimo Joe?
Oh, so when you eat it in tiny pieces,
it's the oh-so-fashionable sushi?
But a whole raw fish, that's unacceptable for some reason.
Howard!? What the fuck? Where have you been?
We've been worried.
I've been right here, since the Christmas period.
Thought I'd lessen the distractions from revision. I've been
getting up at midnight and going to bed at 8am, in the cellar.
And I am, copyright of the McDonald's Corporation,
"lovin' it".
We have a cellar?
Now you tell me.
And all this time I've been storing my wine in a rack like some...
accountant!
Oh, God, you've gone full serial killer.
And there it is. My dream...
my nightmare...
my Killer. The Dominatrix.
Is it...?
Oh, it's just a revision timetable.
Yes, my simian friend,
in the same way that Napoleon Bonaparte was a mere "soldier".
Like the Ark of the Covenant is simply a box. Yes, this is
"just a revision timetable".
Hmm. This structure defines my every movement in 30 minute intervals
between now and my final examination.
All I must do is submit to its every demand,
however unreasonable,
and then a first class degree will be mine.
And my dream job as data architect at Ordnance Survey.
JP, tell you what, you need to get on it, like Moleman here.
- No offence. - Some taken. - Ten more weeks.
Easter, then lectures pack up, that's basically it.
- The party's over. - No! It's...
11 weeks and some days.
Fuck! The fun's running out!
Howard. Why, today, are you venturing upstairs?
Well. Er, Vitamin D,
fish oil, and today is the day that Candice returns from her
- Erasmus term in France! - OK?
And I will be decorating my room with the remains of flowers
gathered from behind the local florist's!
Nothing says love, according to the Western romantic canon,
like decaying plant matter.
Hi, Rosa! Sorry I'm late.
- What is this? - Final year forum.
Wow. A lot have come.
Yes. There is a lot of anger.
And they need to vent it on someone.
Yeah, no, I get it.
It's just... do they have to vent it on me?
No, I mean, they probably do.
OK. Showtime!
So! Third years. January. Hello.
Er, for many of you, these are your final months of education.
You are at a crossroads. You are confused. Anxious.
Now is the time to look to me, your president, to help you cope.
For, like my fellow President Mandela - God bless you, Madiba -
- I have written a book!
Think of it as your Bible.
But it's better than the Bible because it's got an index of
sexual health clinics and registered media recruitment agencies.
Ogs! Can we have a word?
I'm going to take a word with her.
Can you push the whole day back five, please?
Yeah, so, look, er, thing is... I'm getting heat on the rent.
And finals coming up. Bank's closed my account,
so I'm going to need cash for Red Bull, protein shakes
and guys in Korea to knock out my course work.
I get it. You've come crawling back to me for help?
Well, not exactly crawling, but...
Vod, I'm the President, of course I can sort it out for you.
Even if there isn't a job, I'll just make one up. Rosa?
Has a president ever had a sort of - not really like a jester -
but a sort of artist in residence?
Like that area? Yeah?
We can certainly look at it.
Really? Well, that's one way of looking at it.
I suppose the other way...
Miss Shawcross. Miss Nordstrom.
So pleased you could join us to share your, no doubt,
ground-breaking thoughts on The Waste Land.
Jeremy was just saying he thought it was a bit "short".
Yeah, OK. Sorry to interrupt, erm, but I just wondered
if I could just jump in?
Because I've actually got a meeting with the Mayor,
for a mayoral tree planting at 11, with the Mayor.
Will the Mayor be there?
Yeah, he will, actually.
Er, then lunch with the MP for Didsbury before we open the new lab.
So, if you don't mind, I'm just going to dive in with a brain dump,
and then just leave you guys to stay and chat.
Is that OK?
OK. Anti-semitism!
So, dude. How's the five-year plan?
Here we are, full English with game sausage and chips!
The Nanny Pru special!
Yeah, good. And I'm on course for a rock star bonus.
Fail. Nanny Pru would never let the eggs touch the beans, dude.
- So, what you got for me? - Well, I've had some ideas.
I've been Googling. And not just since you arrived.
I think I'd like to work with lions. Maybe in a safari park.
- Are you fucking kidding me? - Well, I mean,
maybe just in an admin capacity, but I like lions. That's solid.
No-one works with lions, don't be a wanker.
Right, but I mean, some people do, obviously.
No, you're right. What about my art?
Do you think there's maybe something I could... You know?
You can't make a living drawing dicks. This isn't France.
- It's time for the suit. - The suit? - Hmmm, yeah.
- This is what you'll wear to go and see Jonty Harrington. - Jonty Bonty? - Yeah.
Jonty Bonty Harrington. Mind your Ps and Qs and he'll slide you into a job at my firm.
- So that's what I'm doing, is it? - Sure. Daddy did it for me,
and now I'm doing it for you since... Daddy's not around.
- Yeah, there's no need to cry. - I'm not crying, mate. Daddy's no biggie for me. - Yeah, likewise.
- I'm cool talking Dad. It's easy peasy not to get cheesy. - Well, good, mate,
don't blub about it. - I'm not going to blub, are you going to blub? - Fuck off.
Hey, Vod, check out my suit.
I was worried about my future, but it turns out it's going to be fine.
Oh, brilliant. I was really worried about you.
How's that, er, pharmacology course going for you, mate?
Do you realise that tonight is the last chance we'll have to watch the
first in a new series of New Tricks all together, as a house, ever?
Yeah, er, out of interest, can you make Mandy or acid yet?
Did we miss the last Pancake Day?
Look, the thing is, I am going to need some money.
It moves. Yeah, Pancake Day, you slippery fucker.
So now I'm thinking, "Vod, play to your strengths.
"You know drugs, you've got some great contacts.
"All you need now is a source."
- I am not going to be your drugs mule. - Not a mule!
You would be a lovely, rosy-cheeked, nutty little drugs milk maid.
No. And also, what's with the rosy fucking cheeks?!
Hey, Howie, last first New Tricks tonight? Feel free to bring Candice.
OK. Oh, no, she texted saying not to meet her off the coach after all.
Oh. Er, everything all right?
Yeah, just one of her texts.
One of her texts?
We text in a text window, once a fortnight, rain or shine.
Got to put the hours in a relationship, Jose.
Right?
"I think we need to take a break, I need to get my head together."
Yeah. She sent that before Christmas.
And it was actually perfect because I needed to get my head
together, too, so the timing was good.
And, er, now... head together.
Oh, God. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Maybe. Are you thinking about Nanny Pru's three-legged Labrador?
Check it out, guys! I'm wearing my future,
and it feels amazing!
The future starts now. Revision starts now.
I'm going to get a 2:1 and I'm going to slide into my amazing job
that my amazing bro has swung for me.
I need to knuckle down. We all do.
That is true. Nose to the grindstone.
Do some serious fucking study.
I'm already four months in.
We need to seriously, seriously start knuckling down.
- Tomorrow. - Tomorrow, yes, I like it.
Yes. Good. Up at 6.30?
Yeah. That's the spirit, mate.
Tomothy, pleased to meet you.
Oh, er, we already, erm... I'm... I was the one with the American cereal.
Here's my thinking, though. Before we focus like laser beams,
surely we should have one really, really big one?
A huge one. Massive.
- There is a certain logic. - So pathetic.
We had that quite long argument about the euro?
We take all the temptations, all the distractions, all the booze
and the drugs, everything from down the back of the sofa.
All the intoxicants, the gluten and the coffee and the weed
and the speed and the Drambuie and the voddy and the Nurofen
and the garam masala...
You get distracted by garam masala?
Shut up, Howard! Sometimes I do.
And then we turn it all into a terrible milkshake.
Or pancake. Nice!
We consume it all tonight.
And then we go out and we go absolutely fucking mental.
Then tomorrow, we knuckle down, camomile tea it through until finals.
Pancakes or punch? Shall we go for pancakes or the punch?
You need to decide. Shit or get off the pot, new guy!
Punch! Fine, it's the punch!
I should be able to sort the naughties. So, tell your mates.
Yes, classic Hartnell night out!
We give the bloody internal organs some trouble that they won't forget!
Fuck you, liver!
Now's the time for you all to get seriously laid. Third year.
The social circle gets tighter and tighter and then,
when you leave uni, someone turns the sex tap off for good.
You've got six months to live.
This is Adolf's bunker the night before the Allies arrive.
12 weeks, you're out of here.
Tonight's the night.
Everything I've wanted to do in Manchester,
I've just got to fucking do it.
I want to release a chicken in a tutorial.
I want to eat the hottest curry in Rusholme. I want to do
a conga at a bunga bunga, hire a limo and fill it with foam!
I want to get a blow job in a toilet.
I want to go to Stockport and Wythenshawe!
I want to go to the Gay Village and get fucked by a bunch of really great guys!
What?
It's just that...
It's what the Lonely Planet said you should do.
So, how's life, bro?
Great, mate. It's fucking great.
The little guy's not sleeping too well,
so, er, it's good to get away, you know?
Right, and this is definitely the hottest one you have?
Ah, God!
That is ridiculous.
I can't eat that, it's too fucking hot.
Oh, my God. I mean, that is an unrealistic curry.
I mean, you've at least got to give me something I can eat.
This is meant to be my dinner!
Yeah, I'm pulling some big ones so, it's usually only weekends
when I see the little guy.
You know, out at five, back at nine.
You mean, nine to five?
No, man. Five to nine.
Right. Well, I mean, how does that work?
When do you, you know, have a nice time?
Er, I get a coffee on the way in.
Big lunches?
OK, look, I'm sorry, mate, are you taking the piss?
Is everyone having a big laugh at whitey, back there?
I mean, that's basically a fucking korma.
It's lovely. I'm not an eight-year-old girl!
Come on, give me something with some balls on.
Lunch in the saddle, mate. Desk jockey.
Right. And then what? Cuddle up at night?
No, Jen's usually wiped out. So I, er, microwave something.
Fall asleep in front of Newsnight.
Wank in the shower, if I can manage it.
You know, do the e-mails every 30 minutes, that's the secret.
Ping them back, keep pushing them back or they'll bury you.
It's just "yes, no, OK." "Thank you, thank you, schedule it, Kelly."
Just keep moving.
Oh, fuck.
But it's interesting, right?
Well, what I do is boring.
But if I do anything wrong, I might get fired.
So, that kind of keeps it interesting, you know?
Wow.
Now, you see, this, this, my friend, is perfect.
It's painful, incredibly unpleasant to eat.
I'm certainly going to know about it in the morning.
But I can just about get it down.
Eugh, vile.
I have the product.
Yes.
Well, come on, hand over the goods!
OK. Are the rest like that?
That IS the pill.
How do you mean, that is THE pill?
You wanted your apples tonight, I only had time to make one apple.
This is a very new area of cider production...
(..for me.)
150 quid for one pill?!
What, what does it do,
grow a magic beanstalk back to the fucking Hacienda 1990?
There will be more, Vod.
I'm hardly even a drug pusher with one.
You can't push just once?
That's a not a push, it's a poke.
I'm a drug poker.
Pills?
Oi, psst, hey, hey, pills? Pills?
We could have gone to that bar that I told you about
that Aguero goes to,
with the ice sculptures and the frozen mojitos.
I went. It's shit.
James Milner was there, having a diet Coke.
Whereas, here, pissed student totty!
To look at!
Oh, very mature!
Oh, hottest curry in Manchester, tick. Champagne spray, tick.
Right, now all I need is a blow-job in the toilet.
Any interest?
Anyone?
Kingsley has soft pillowy lips?
Pills?
Come on, Kingsley!
♪ A bunga, bunga, bunga!
♪ A bunga, bunga, bunga... ♪
What an asshole.
Yeah, he's actually one of my closest friends, so,
I can confirm you are totally correct.
"Bunga, bunga." For me, these words are politically very loaded.
Fucking students.
Yeah, fucking students.
And you're here because...?
I work upstairs.
I like watching the wheels go round.
I like watching the holding pen at the slaughterhouse.
So I'm trying to fit in everything I haven't done in Manchester,
before 6.30 tomorrow.
So much to do.
I mean, I've never even listened to a Smiths song!
Oh? Is this The Smiths?
In that case, I have listened to a Smiths song.
Er, we didn't meet. I'm, er, JP's brother.
Tomothy.
Oh? Oregon.
President of the union.
- Right? - For my sins.
Union president. Wow.
You, er, you pushing through a lot of shit?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It gets pretty pushy.
What's your biggest achievement, would you say?
Well, you know, I mean, implementation is, is complex.
But in terms of structural reorganisation fund reallocation?
Uh-huh. Sure.
Well.
You know, it's difficult to change things... because... of reasons.
For example, I tried to do a free day at the gym,
to encourage first years to...
you know? But Rosa said that that's...
So, so in the end, we just sort of put the prices up a bit.
Which is similar, yeah.
OK. I get it. You do a lot of this?
- Yeah, I mean, I open the odd faculty. - Yeah. - Sure.
They roll you out, roll you back in again. You sound plausible.
Look good.
You're an "RC".
A ribbon cutter.
A fruit fly.
A Teflon wombat.
A flak-catching shit sieve.
Well, no, because that's a lot of horrible words, hold on,
because, actually, I've just launched a study guide
for final year students which...
Um, Rosa?
Why isn't the Short Walk To Freedom in the display bins
as per my directive?
People need my book, my little red book.
Yeah, about that name...
Oh, yes, update on that.
The finance committee couldn't agree on a full print run in the end.
I'm sorry.
I can explain to you with your big calculator on Monday.
Well, how many copies did they print?
Ten.
Just 10,000?
No, just ten.
Pill?
Candice. She texted.
- Oh, good. Brilliant. - Yeah. She wants a "big talk".
Uh-huh?
It'll be good cos she thinks I deserve someone better.
Right?
She'll be relieved when I'm like, "Nah, you're fine."
Howard. Erm, "It's not you, it's me."
Erm, well, that's no biggie.
I assured her that I was fine with her.
And as it's not me, as she states, but her, then no problem!
OK, Howard, erm, I'm so sorry.
But I have to tell you,
as a human being from Planet Earth, that your relationship is over.
Oh, yes, patronise me, Little Miss Relationships!
Well, I can settle this...
Oh, no, Howard, don't, don't...
Candice!
Oh, yes, er, it's great to get you!
Erm. I'm just triple-checking.
You are still my girlfriend, aren't you?
Well, I don't see how it can be that complicated...
I'm a ribbon cutter. She's thwarting me.
I was going to roll those fatties onto the treadmill for free.
Look, you're president.
Would Putin let someone do this to him?
Or would he poison them and then shoot them?
And then take his shirt off and piss on them?
- I can't believe he left you for your best friend? - Oh, yeah,
he used to wash his face with the garden hose before
he came home every night, so I couldn't smell her perfume.
Oh, that's horrible.
Oh, it's just so complicated And so grown up.
Listen, if you want to get away from these bloody students,
we could go back to my house?
Your student house?
Yeah, but my room is a haven.
I have a shelf of books I don't even need to read
but I do anyway, just for fun.
- Hello, Rosa. It's the ribbon cutter here. - Hello?
I've worked out what's going on and I'm giving you your notice.
I'm sorry?
Think of your job as a ribbon. I'm cutting it. You're fired.
You just made a big mistake. You can't do that!
Great.
The first grown-up, complicated, fascinating woman who's
agreed to come back to my room all year and you give her the sack.
I'm sure Alan Sugar and my mother would be very pleased.
Pill.
I'm sorry.
Hey, mate! Top night in here.
Do you fancy an Irish cocoa?
Nanny Pru stylee?
- Oh? - Oh, come on, man, let's have a mental early one.
Hit the duvet hard like Eminem and Dre do,
probably, when they haven't seen each other for ages
and want to have a catch-up.
Yeah, fuck that. I'm having a very good time!
But you don't want to do anything that you might regret?
Listen, mate, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!
Sorry, I don't understand. What happened in Vegas?
I slept with a prostitute.
All right, one percenters?
Who wants to cough up for a party pill?
How much?
Er...
200?
That must be a very good pill.
It is like Disneyland, Christmas morning,
your 18th and your hardest cum all got remixed by David Guetta.
Oh, plus, it's got a windmill on it.
That's one half of one of your four months of back rent dealt with.
- You are NOT allowed to have sex with Tomothy. - Why not?
Because of a little something called the institution of marriage
and a little organisation called the Church of fucking England.
Look, I'll do whatever I want and Tomothy should do whatever he wants.
That is a horrible philosophy.
Oi! Quick quiz. What fucks like a tiger and winks?
Vod, I need to speak with you.
All right, Walter White.
I've got a very little, tiny worry about some of the quantities I used.
- The pill. It's probably fine. - Probably?
Has it been ingested?
Oh, God...
Then you need to keep a very close eye on the subject.
Oh, my God, fucking hell, Sabine. Should we just...?
I don't think you need to worry.
Just monitor his temperature and vital signs very closely
and you can relax, have a great night out!
You are a fucking talented administrator.
You know, I can see that just by looking at you.
Yeah. I think I am, actually.
I have tiny Post-it notes...
Cones are legendary.
I mean, students and cones.
But what do I actually do with the cone?
I mean, it's funny, right?
But surely there's more to it?
OK, motherfuckers. Death pancakes!
General announcement.
My relationship, as prophesied by the doom-monger Josie,
is indeed over.
I will not be accepting any consolation or human sympathy,
many thanks for your interest.
Howard!
Are you OK?
I've been such a fool.
Yeah, it's confusing because you're normally so pessimistic
and doubting and...
- Negative and sceptical? - Exactly.
So, how did you miss the subtext?
Well, I guess, because...
What?
She said she loved me.
Oh!
She said she'd always love me.
And I didn't know, I had not been informed
that when somebody says that, they don't necessarily mean it.
Oh, Howie.
It's kind of hard to relax with all of this heartbreak and cone-play
and my archenemy, who I just fired, hanging out in my kitchen.
Seven years. I've been in this job seven years
and then that bitch tries to get rid of me like that.
My contract is crystal clear.
If she wants a fight, my ex is an employment lawyer.
Oh, my God. What a mess.
I am going to fuck her.
And when I fuck, I fuck hard.
Promises, promises!
How's it going for you, mate?
Crunchy, or have you got the butterflies?
Temperature feeling nice? Yeah?
Fucking heartbeat regular as Big Ben, yeah?
Yeah, I tell you what,
for a drug dealer, your aftercare is off the scale.
Oh, nice!
I tell you what can be wild about now, is a nice glass of tepid
water and a lie down where we can all see you.
OK, let's crank up this party with dodgy tequila.
So, er...
is this going to be your first lay since...?
She's on the rebound harder than a squash ball,
and she's looking for love in all the wrong places!
I don't know if it's a sex thing or a power thing or what
kind of thing I'm into.
It's so fucked up!
I've left a message with Katrina in human resources.
She's a good friend. An old friend.
I think I might head to bed. Get some room.
Night, everyone.
Psst!
About Tomothy. Maybe keep it vanilla?
I mean, I know you're not exactly a mega-ho in the sack but...
Erm, I'm sorry, Vod, what?
I am extremely, hugely, raunchy and why are you even...?
He's older, yeah?
So, you know, keep his pulse low, temperature low, heart rate low.
Listen, I just want to let my hair down and shag someone who
I won't awkwardly bump into in the arts faculty.
So just leave me alone and let me make one of those really fun
mistakes that I rarely have the time or energy to manage.
Howard? You're killing the vibe!
Maybe you could hoover up your dreams in the morning?
Or put your dick in the vacuum and I'll squirt tequila in your mouth?
No thanks, Josie.
I'm trying to have a party!
Yeah, about time I hit the hay myself.
You can sleep in my room.
Er, yeah, I think I might just sling a sleepy into the sparey.
I'd prefer it if you slept with me.
I get very lonely at night.
- And scared. - What?
It's Howard.
We all lock ourselves in, every night.
It's just sensible.
I mean, he's not done anything... yet.
Once he did.
- Yeah, do you really lock yourselves in? - No.
Well, she doesn't, she's Welsh. She's up for a rumble, 24/7.
Fuck you, Made In Chelsea.
Listen...
bro, how does sleeping with Oregon fit into your five-year plan, mate?
I'm just having some fun, mate.
And it's none of your business.
Well, as a matter of fact, mate, yes, it is.
Because you've got a wife at home. And Jen is lovely.
She bought me that book, Coast, for Christmas.
The one about the coast.
And I like it so much that I won't even let anyone do
a line off it, even though quite a lot of the time it is the only
book that I have around.
So, please don't break her heart.
JP, I'm chained to a fucking desk 80 hours a week.
I'm chained to my wife the other 80.
So, let's just keep this on the down-low, yeah?
I'm not going to do anything anyway.
It's just a bit of flirty-shirty.
Worst... party... ever.
Wow!
You are under a fucking mountain of debt.
This is three credit cards on top of your tuition and loans.
Why are the RAF after you?
That's bad, they have drones.
Oh!
Where'd you get those?
These? These were making a lump under your mattress.
This is like 70 grand...
Shut up. Anyway, I got a plan.
Yeah? What's the plan?
Die before I hit 27.
What's the latest?
Not much. Paolo Nutini and chat.
OK, good.
Why are you even bothered?
I'm not.
I just...
believe that true love waits.
Or something.
Waits about half an hour.
Why's he's being such a...?
I'm going to tell him to fuck off.
Lion taming and art. Those are my passions.
I mean, I'm not unrealistic, I know that I might have to
start off taming something a little more manageable, like a puma.
Uh-oh, it's gone quiet. They've stopped chatting.
Is he having a heart attack?
Probably just... sex?
All right!
Just doing a round of waters! Who's in?
That's not flirty-shirty, that's dirty-bertie!
Hello? Do we not knock any more?
Sorry, Ogs. I just need to check...
Er, bit of a weird one.
Can you open up? I just need to pop this, it's for a project.
What, like an English project?
Come on, or it's going in the back door.
He's got a wife at home. She's lovely. She makes soup.
Can't I have a single night off?
Bill Clinton had his saxophone, he's my saxophone.
Get out!
Look, OK, the truth is, I sold your saxophone a dodgy pill
and I'm worried he's going to die. - What?! - What?
It's probably fine.
But, erm, the "lab" where they came from just had a few... doubts.
Well, what the hell's in it?
I don't know. This and that. Sabine knocked it up...
Sabine?
You gave my brother a pill made by Sabine?
She's a pharmacologist!
She's a biscuit-licking European oddball that hates us!
Oh, God, and it had to happen in the North!
Oh, my God, what have you done? If you have hurt this.
You could knock a percentile off the GDP.
Just call Bupa. I might need to be 'coptered south.
Calm down, we don't want your blood pressure to spike.
This brain is gold!
- If you've damaged even a single cell of it... - I will sue.
- Look, should we get medical help? - Shall we get Josie in here?
Oh, yeah! Josie, the struck-off trainee dentist?
Well, who the hell is that?
Well, I'll get it, shall I?
Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to A & E, on the way
I'll call the police, tell them I got spiked by a drug dealer.
You're going to prison. You know why?
Because you have fucked with the wrong pineapple!
- What the fuck? - Come on, mate. It was just an accident.
- She thought the pill was safe. - Bullshit. - It did have a windmill.
She's an a-hole. All your housemates are a-holes.
The pusher, the no-mark, the Welsh alcoholic,
fucking Stig of the Dump...
I don't live in a dump. I revise in a cellar.
It would be more accurate to call me "The Fritzl Of Revision."
The truth is, Tomothy, you shouldn't have taken the pill.
And you shouldn't be in Oregon's bed!
I'm calling an ambulance and the police.
Put the phone down or I will clonk you on the dome.
Ow! Fuck!
I said I would clonk you.
Now, put the phone down to avoid more clonks.
Guys, could you, erm, keep the noise down?
Rosa and I are trying to relax.
Piss off, Kingsley!
Ah, now you remember my name.
The guy who pulled a hot, fully-grown Italian?
We can all relax, it's fine.
It's safe. I triple-checked.
I was really concentrating this time.
I even turned off the radio.
The pill's safe.
How do you know for sure?
I just took one a few hours ago. I feel great.
Here's the batch.
I'm going to try to touch a duck in the park.
They look so soft. Hey.
Goodnight.
Finally, I'm out.
I'm out the game.
There is too much health and safety in drug dealing these days.
You're turning in. 9am at the tailor.
Ooh, about that.
I'm not sure I actually need the suit.
What?
Well, I think I might prefer to do a more interesting job.
Not lions necessarily.
Or cocks.
Maybe something in media or books
or the music industry.
- Yeah. - But I'm not sure I want to be a fuck-off banker.
Well, don't worry, mate. You won't be.
Cambridge, Imperial, Harvard, they're full of physicists,
geniuses who fuck off the cancer-curing
to work in derivatives.
You wouldn't get a look-in.
Oh.
I see.
Look, real world, JP, you're a fucking good guy,
you're a clinical moron.
Stick with me,
big bro will keep an eye on you, make sure you don't shit the bed.
What?
Look, I'm being nice.
I'm helping you out, bro.
Right.
Thank you.
Yeah.
♪ Doesn't really matter if you're old and grey
♪ It's all right I say, it's OK
♪ Listen to what I say
♪ It's all right Doing fine... ♪
I recorded New Tricks.
It's a goody.
Welcome to the breakfast show.
Coming up, we've got Daisy Day Fawcett, but, first...
♪ We've only just begun
♪ To live
♪ White lace and promises
♪ A kiss for luck and we're on our way
♪ We've only begun
♪ Before the rising sun
♪ We fly
♪ So much of life ahead... ♪
♪ We'll find a place where there's room to grow
♪ And, yes, we've just begun. ♪