Anyone watching thinking we know fuck all
about knowing fuck all about owt needs to watch their back.
So you've had your Labour, reclassifying skunk,
sending prices sky-high.
Literally, literally, taking the grass from its own roots.
Now you've got your condemnation.
Liberals noshing Tories like altar boys picking dimps up.
Have we had a national fucking stroke, or what?
Is revolution a word, or was it never?
Anybody watching needs to know
we cope better than average with irony in Chatsworth.
Well, for fuck's sake, we live in Manchester
and they charge us for water!?
I wandered lonely as a clown, necking mushrooms rarely found.
This green and pleasant land in ancient times...
Fuckin' bastard!
Yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak!
It's not theirs any more.
This is our England now.
Paaaarty!
60 seconds a minute, 60 minutes in an hour,
24 hours in a day, seven days a week,
four weeks in a month, and 1,000 months in a lifetime.
Dead man walking.
That's all, if you're lucky.
Dead man walking.
Ha ha ha ha! Boo!
Tick them off on the calendar. Count 'em down, one by one.
One life to squeeze in all the fucking and fighting
and drinking and loving and living you can.
Hiya, sweet cheeks! Ooh, yeah.
Stick it in me, you fucking wimp!
Dead man walking.
But they won't let you live. They want to smother you...
...to damn you,
condemn you to fucking work.
One thousand measly months constitute a life,
and they sentence you to employment.
Me, employment?
Dead. Man. Walking.
Given your lifetime of inactivity,
Feigning mental illness won't work either, Mr Gallagher.
Fucking hell. It's immoral. Thrown to the lions.
It's going cold!
I loved my first job.
Cutie little parlour maid in a big house off O'Connell Street.
Pretty uniform.
The master used to tamper with me after Mass on Sunday
while his wife delivered scones to the poorhouse.
Means there's one less job for the school leavers.
The job he's going to get isn't one you'll want to do.
Yeah, cos there's going to be loads of them about
Eh!
Whatever.
And can you give us two packs of the green papers? Small ones.
You're putting away a lot of weed, aren't you?
The skins are Mimi's, OK?
Cos she knows buying them makes me feel like a tramp.
Ours is guaranteed to hit the spot quicker.
What, in a "Mike Tyson and foreplay" kind of way yeah?
Here you are, there's your stuff.
I'm not looking to date rape you, this stuff is 100% legit.
If you feel drowsy, blind money back.
You don't know what you're missing, love.
You'll come round.
You have to stop fucking with the formula.
You see, that, right there. That's the difference between us.
We should be looking to leave a legacy. Create a work of art.
How do you think all the timeless liqueurs got invented, eh?
Drambuie, Cointreau, Tia Maria?
One fine day it'll be,
"a pint of lager and a Shane and Jackson, please"
"A Shane and Jackson"?
Yeah, we'll create a design classic. Like snakebite and black,
Sex On The Beach, Black and Tan.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Why not "a Jackson and Shane?"
Alphabetical.
No, it's not.
Er, vowels!
I've got an A in mine.
Well, I've got both, A and E. Fuck off.
Where's the Marmite?
Oh, fucking hell.
Oh, here we go, Al Capone with another crate of Absolut Piss.
Oh, fucking comedian.
Fucking hell, that is 'anging. It's even worse than the last lot.
Told you. You need patience to get it right, mate.
And are you going to sit there all day, are you?
Fucking drip, drip, drip, drip?
I will. I can't get hurt doing that, can I?
It's no place for a mammy's boy.
Such a chore spending time together?
No, course not. It's just... stretch my legs now and then.
We don't need anyone else.
I say we do.
What if I cover half his wages?
Sounds good to me. Billy, you're on.
Really?!
Be careful out there.
Yes! Ha ha!
Thanks, Mam.
Psst! Hey, pssst. What are you in for, sweetheart?
Fuck all. I'm wrongly convicted.
We're all wrongly convicted! The system's got it in for us.
Ey, don't lump me in with you. I'm a political prisoner.
Direct casualty. Coalition of the dick-less, Iggle-Piggle Cameron
and the Last Ever Leader of the Liberal Party.
Not an idea nor a sexual organ between them. I'm different.
We're all different!
Life as you know it is over. You're finished.
I'll be free any day.
There's only one way out of here, mucker.
Ready...
...take aim...
...FIRE!
Mr Gallagher?
You find anything interesting today?
Er... yeah, plenty. Y'know, it's just man in my condition...
Isn't the measure of a civilised society
how well it looks after its raspberries?
Compared to most of the world, we provide exemplary care.
Yeah, but how can anyone be 100%, eh?
Except you're deemed fully fit.
"Empathy and Understanding" new Government guidelines.
How we gently nurture the long-term unemployed back to the workplace.
You're now my personal mission. And I'm your champion.
Just sign there, Francis. This is to say you're fit for work.
Frank?
Why won't you sign?
You will not defeat me.
I will not be defeated. You cannot contain me!
I am Frank Gallagher. I am a free man.
No touching!
They're going off.
Well not enough.
These are the wash, getting ready for the still.
Vodka, rum, molasses, with a Maguire twist of cinnamon,
cloves and ginger. The barrels are the volume, the basics,
where we earn most of the readies, but...
These are my fucking babies.
What's in them?
Oak chips.
Ethyl nitrate, lactose concentrate, yeast enzymes...
additives.
Collection commences between 110 and 115 degrees.
Keep an eye on the temperature and burn a sample every other hour.
But basically, all we need you for is to stir or shake.
That every hour. And froth these babies...
harder than your bellend. All of them. Every two hours.
No problemo.
Nectar...
Not bad...
Yeah. Well drink more than a thimbleful at this stage
and your liver'll shrivel like a walnut.
You going to be all right?
Yeah, man.
Owww, fuck!
I'll take double this time.
Not happening, Patty get too fond of these,
and before you know it you'll be clucking like some desperate junkie.
Huh, like it could ever come to that.
Next thing you'll be giving noshes for a tenner in Whalley Range.
Chance would be a fine thing. I'd pay them!
But if you just give me double now,
then, if I know I have some in stock it saves coming here as much.
You know, in case you're not home...
One week's worth. And when they're gone, I'll be here.
You give Sylvia Staples twice as much as me.
She won't see Christmas. They're easing her past the post.
I've got the constitution of an ox.
Mad cow if you don't watch it.
Glass of water?
Thank you.
Melt those stresses away like a bath of asses' milk.
I'm keeping an eye on you.
I've never seen that old boot in such good spirits.
Hey, One Direction, got a proposition for you.
Your lucky day, me old china.
Forget it, Frank.
What, come on, where's your business instinct?
Protecting me from you.
It's not just money... you know?
It's just produce, you know.
Skunk, resin, Mary Jane.
Lay some on us. I'll pay you tomorrow.
After you've smoked it? No chance.
I'm going to sell it, honest...
Oh come on, Escobar started somewhere!
Oh, fuck the lot of you, then.
I'm dropping out.
Dropping out of what? You're not even a part of anything.
I'm going to live off the grid.
The steel things in the street?
No, self-sustenance...
y'know, solar panels, grow some spuds,
chickens for free eggs,
wind turbines in the garden...
sell the extra leccy back to the rapists
who should never have earned out of its privatisation in the first place.
Off the grid? You?
What choice do I have?
I am not built to comply.
I cannot force my soul to... wage slavery.
How would I breathe?
Same as everyone else.
Exactly my fucking point!
You're all dead from the neck up...
slabs of meat, serving the Great Gods Profit and Progress...
Oh, yeah, yeah, go on, laugh it up...
maybe pull out your night-stick and your gun, anything so you don't
have to think for yourself. That's why they give 'em you.
You'll submit, everyone does.
Keep the flesh obedient,
performing, but scour out the man,
the very soul.
That's your lot, not mine.
Anything to avoid taking responsibility, eh?
Any straw you can clutch.
I will leave here.
Survive on my wits.
On your wits?
You almost had me going there...
your wits!
I am a survivor.
I am renegade.
Booosh!
Frank!
That was our tea!
How does "living off the grid" translate as "taking what you want"?
In time, Kelly.
When has a potato ever grown under concrete flags?
So dig them up.
I'm onto it...
Irish Macka's lending me a shovel.
He's taking the piss.
And a glass of wine.
I'll fix him!
This is fucking illegal!
We're in the middle of nowhere.
All the more reason to keep it fucking down, then!
Shhhh. Benchill Polish Club.
Could be the biggy. Ziggy...
Jak sie masz...?
How's it going, bud? Good to hear from you.
Stress levels that high, no wonder this is piss.
Tell me about it.
Out of ten?
My own recipe.
Not bad...
Fuck me, that's tasty.
Oh, aye...?
Well?
Said it tasted worse.
Philistines!
They don't deserve it anyway.
What about... this?
Which one's this?
Needs to blend a few more days before we put it in the still.
I told you not to touch anything!
Oi! I'm glad he did. This is mint!
It's fennel, actually. With a bit of basil and nutmeg.
I told that useless bitch this would happen.
Oh, fuck!
What are you thinking of?!
This shite's poison!
Keep it out of reach, then.
I'm a 21st century man,
not designed to live off the fucking land.
Whatever happened to green belt?
I can't eat me own young.
I'm not a Scotsman, or a Scouser.
I'm a fucking blue, a league champion.
Welcome to Manchester!
What doesn't kill you...
I'll absolve you for a favour.
I'd rather be grounded.
Get to your room then.
Yeah, right.
It's a really easy favour.
I'll pay you.
Handsomely.
Marty!
Come on I'm hungry!
Marty!
Fuck you all, then...
I promise you, honestly.
Booze For Buttons are definitely interested.
The bird was all over me. I'm outside Off Your Box now.
All right...
Spare any change, mate.
Frank...?
By name and nature,
on the grill and griddle.
A pound'll do. Or buy us a can, the good stuff.
Jesus, Frank.
C'mon.
Give us your hand.
Laters, guys. See ya.
Behave!
Don't think you're trying anything on.
Don't flatter yourself.
We'll get more done if we split up.
Just dropped my pen.
Why didn't you just ask?
Her and Dad think I'm stupid.
Are they for you or Patty?
Patty.
Err... it costs.
That's all she gave me.
Dead. Man. Walking!
You're shit. Not capable!
You're condemned, just like everybody else.
Leave me alone!
Valiant effort, but you can't stand in the way of progress.
Sentence will be carried out, there's nothing you can do.
Oh, yes there fucking is...
At least you're happy.
With you on disability, we know there's something coming in.
You're sure this isn't easier?
Less pain, but less effective.
They can stitch an Achilles, tie all sorts of cartilage together,
have you fully functioning in under a year.
But shattering your kneecap fucks you right up.
Guaranteed to leave a limp.
So it goes through the back of the knee.
How we took care of joyriders back home.
When you're re...
Hillbillies! Who was it?!
She missed. How could she fucking miss?!
She's passed out!
Where is he?
No! No! Frank! Get off. Frank!
So glad to see you.
Dead. Man. Walking.
I'd neck that all day.
Sarsasparilla's an aphrodisiac for birds.
Mix with a bit of ginseng.
Is your nose extra strong?
Just hyper-sensitive.
Got battered for being a freak in infants.
Kept crying every time this fat, trampy kid walked in the room.
Soon learned to keep quiet though.
Does everything smell clearer?
Tesco lemon and almond shampoo, Dove natural for men body wash,
Gillette sandalwood shaving gel, Lynx Temptation deodorant,
Paco Rabanne after shave, MacLean ice-white toothpaste,
clothes washed in Persil, forest fresh non-bio...
Shirt, two days ago. Jeans, yesterday...
It's alright most of the time, just breathe through my mouth.
Gets a bit tricky though, 'cause Mimi's loves getting plated.
Well, Benchill Polish Club are back on.
Crumpsall Ukrainian Institute and Hale Barns Irish.
Now all we need to do is work out the percentages.
If I take my ball away, you two are back to selling piss aren't you?
As much you can supply.
Every punter in Manchester's gonna come my way.
That's it. Sample's all gone.
Do you have to sell to anyone else?
Hey! Don't be greedy.
Alright, there'll be plenty to go round.
You've brewed liquid gold. I knew you'd come good.
Here, deposit on 20 crates.
And me.
Whoa!
Be fair, Shane.
If it wasn't for Billy,
these'd be pissing claret instead of hanging out of each other.
Special edition Ian Brown pair next month.
Eeeeww.
What you playing at?!
I'll show the world what filth is living under my roof.
Where did she get them?
That's my washing, you mental old bitch!
All the bleach in China wouldn't budge the stains on these.
Do you know how much these cost?
Oh, because, I regularly buy such garments.
Oh!
Get your poison talons off me, cos I know where they've been.
No. You're in it together. Three of you.
See, hear, speak no evil.
Think you can rohypnol me?!
Fuck's up with her?
Phone her doctor, tell him she's taken the lot.
Oh, shit.
I'm only interested in your well-being and getting you a job.
50 positions have been created
with the expansion of Poundswick Hospital.
It's natural to be nervous, so we'll practise.
Not often we get fish fingers as a last request.
Folk normally aim higher.
Yeah, well...
sound-track of my youth, Captain Birdseye,
old man with hands reeking of tuna, beckoning kids to follow him.
He'd be outed by red tops these days,
stoned to death, next to a paediatrician. Besides,
it is not my last meal. I'm outta here.
I thought you'd given in to the inevitable?
Fuck all's inevitable, Sparky.
Governor's on his way down, I'm on a last minute reprieve.
On what grounds?
On the grounds that you cannot keep a good man down.
The policy has not been devised,
the prison not yet built, that can contain me.
What the fuck are you two dressed like?
Even more sinister. Cheap gear.
Whoa! Stop!
Only a few cockles. What?
Shit job anyway!
Vanilla pod.
Shane, caramelise some sugar.
Forget it! Normal brown sugar will do.
I'll get it.
Getting there?
More aniseed.
We're out.
Working with amateurs, man.
I'm on it.
Why doesn't Shane go?
Go on! One more fucking word!
Come on!
Bit of fresh air will do you good.
I'll burn your houses down, you fecking orange shite.
Where are we going?
Nowhere.
If you don't get me out of here in ten seconds flat...
It's for your own good.
It's what?
I might have known.
I'll have you for false imprisonment and kidnap.
There's plenty of vits, minerals and natural sustenance.
There's bed pans, blankets
and lots of water. You're going to be thirsty.
What's more, there's no getting out. You're locked in.
Do your bosses know you're no better than some low-life,
street-corner drug dealer?
Don't listen to threats,
don't listen to or pay attention to any promises,
and do not believe a word that comes out of her mouth
for the next 48 hours.
Aidan...
I'll buy you those new air max you want, the Derren Brown ones.
Don't even look in her eyes.
We'll get United season tickets and go to Spain for the weekend.
Fuck off, Advil!
Steal one more tablet and you are next.
Your grounding starts once you help her get through this.
Give us a hand.
I'll have your drug...
Get me out!
Inside, now!
There's a law against imprisonment in this country you know,
it's a criminal of fence!
All right, Mr Governor.
Bags are packed, I'm ready to fucking roll.
I'm sorry, Mr Gallagher.
It's an election year.
A Chinese election.
Times are hard.
Every man must face his responsibilities.
No reprieves, no exceptions.
This is not how the story ends for me.
How gutted are you?
Fish fingers was your last meal.
Nah man, I'm telling you!
Shut up.
Billy, Shane and Jacksons.
It's not cool enough. It's got too many syllables.
Why's my name always last?
Especially if you order it with lemonade.
How you gonna order that if you're pissed...?
Fuck!
Artic roll, dripping in tinned pear juice.
I tried.
I really tried.
It's just...
Circumstances conspiring against you?
Exactly, circumstances.
I am not fucking wired the way they want, it's a miscarriage of justice.
My fucking ball sack.
There are no unique circumstances or conspiracies.
You sabotage it for yourself.
Every opportunity, every time.
The only thing that stops you from standing up and being counted
is your victim complex.
Poor little fucking me.
What the fuck's this? Tag-team cuntish-ness?
I cannot be a wage slave.
Why everybody else
and not you?
I'm doing me best.
I know you are. It's just proving more difficult than I imagined.
Listen, Frank, if this one goes wrong,
there's nothing more I can do. The state will cut you off.
No benefits ever again.
It's your last chance, Frank.
I wish I could tell you you scrub up.
It's time to make your peace, Frank.
I'm an atheist.
Are you sure?
Well, there's no harm in hedging your bets.
Frank?
It's a miracle any of you walked away.
I still say you should've gone the 'ossie, to get checked out.
You should've gone last night.
You all right, love?
I'm not sure we need such a big team.
Come on, Billy...
Shane brought you into the game.
I knew this little prick were getting giddy.
He's a liability.
I could've died in there.
Excuse me! If you didn't have the music so fucking loud,
you'd have heard it ready to blow, wouldn't you?
Yeah, you bellend. We did.
So you're on his team now?
I'm just saying.
I want 70%.
Fuck off!
Good morning, my darling! I feel great.
And there's no need to keep a little, harmless old lady
locked up any more.
I forgot my earplugs!
I never told you, I heard from your mum.
Don't listen to her.
Shut your mouth!
She's been thinking about you.
La-la-la-la-la!
Seriously, she and your dad are getting back together.
They want to be a family again.
You know she's lying.
Out of order.
What's it got to do with you, you little fecking slag?
Aidan! Come back here, you motherless piece of shit!
No wonder she left. Fuck you!
He wouldn't have been able to do it without you
but it's his recipe
and we all want more.
Come on!
Billy? We've sorted it.
No hard feelings.
No, no hard feelings.
Fucking hell! Shane!
I fucking knew it!
Oh me baby.
What have they said?
Can you smell that?
Does it look like it?
Stays on for 48 hours.
48 hours? Let's get you home, love.
Shit mate, you're joking.
The world has changed these last half-dozen years, Frank.
Every one of us must bear the burden.
Not me.
Half of Europe's bankrupt, below the poverty line.
The easy life is over, the Baby Boomers spent it all.
They didn't spend mine.
I am not meant to graft
and pay bills, and save pennies
and dole my life out in drips and drops from a fucking pipette.
Why?
Because it is fucking dull!
Because I am better than that.
Some people are born to obey.
I was born to think...
...dream, indulge, absorb.
So you are better than the working man?
Of course I fucking am!
See? Look!
Frank. You're a snob.
Let them scurry around. I will not.
The tide is coming in, whether you like it or not.
It's time.
That clock's slow. Shut it, Lillian.
His health's more important than your punters' hard-ons.
We wait no less than the 48 hours.
How's it feeling, mate?
Still pretty numb.
Is it working?
Fucking hell. A bit, yeah.
Deodorant?
Lynx.
Scent? Temptation.
Cool Metal!
At least he got the brand right.
He knows I was wearing it before.
Talk to me. Eh!
Let her do it! Wait.
I think...
There's talc...
Powder?
I think so.
Johnson's Baby Powder?
Vagisil. This clown's lost it.
Satisfied?
You remember the recipe, though?
What? Billy?
You remember, or it's working?
Fresh air! In here?
I can smell fresh air.
I don't have to breathe through my mouth any more.
Now you're real-I-lly in for a treat.
Eh, fucking hell, Mam!
Dead man walking!
Knock 'em dead.
Good luck, Frank.
Dead man walking!
Is there any chance of a last-minute...?
You know, turn a blind eye...?
Your life is over, Frank.
I am sorry.
Ready?
Take aim.
Any last words?
W- would...
Would...
Would you like fries with that?
What?
Would you like fries with that?
Sorry.
Sorry, mate.
Who's Wesley?
Oh, you must be joking.
My sentiments exactly. However...
Late again, first verbal.
Fuck's sake!
How's it my fault if two fat parcels got stuck in the door on the 105?
Bad language on the premises. That is your first verbal.
Are you taking the piss? Come on, mate.
We'll never attain that relationship.
I don't like you.
What? I don't want you working here.
You swear again... written warning.
I'd be happy to see the back of you before you begin.
Darren,
would you eat a burger made with these?
Show Catweazle his locker,
get him scrubbed, then let him loose on the toilets.
Wesley, your hash browns are ready.
Well, box them up, then.
Come on, teamsters!
Back to normal?
Of course!
She will be by now.
And you think any of this was really necessary?
Don't play games, Patty.
I was always in control.
What?
You don't remember the things you said?
I told you that wouldn't be the real Patty, didn't I?
Sounded real enough to me.
I remember asking to be let out.
Kelly's knickers?
What about them?
Nothing about Aidan's mam?
Have you heard from her?
Never again, Patty.
What are they on about?
You know I'd never hurt a fly.
Look, lot of fuss about nothing.
Push me to Chesney's. We could do with some sherry.
Oh! Here you go.
That's a worthwhile sight.
You reckon?
I'm proud of you. You're a natural.
What, at cleaning shit?
Work hard, you'll have your face up there in no time.
Coffee, please.
Another success story.
Cheers.
Yeah, yeah. Pint of lager.
And would you like to go large with that?
Showin' your face at last?
So what's it like in the land of the straight-goer eh?
Yes, boss, no, boss, anything else, boss?
Who you going to shag at the Christmas do?
There's nothing like a hard-earned pint.
Don't forget, we're all free up here.
They can never crush the spirit.
"Thank you, Uncle Frank!"
How long can you rage against the machine?
Against the dying of the light?
No man can live entirely alone, isolated...
maybe two centuries ago, but not now.
The long arm of "progress", of the law, is all-pervasive.
So, what to do?
Do we all, finally, conform?
Submit?
Do we fuck. You bring the fuckers down from the inside.
Let them think they've won and just when they least expect it...
...we, the people, will rise.
Not that I'm one of you, you uneducated twats,
but you get the gist.
There's more than one way to skin a society.
The only thing a smell test will prove
is that you can't tell shite from sugar.
Ready?
Little hint of vanilla, maybe.
Go on. Dash of lime.
Ready for the next!
Fuck me, that's yeasty.
That is very good.
Barley.
Well done!
It's only cabbage.
That was like a fucking sniffer dog!