Anyone watching thinking we know 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!
And 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 cloud, necking mushrooms rarely found.
This green and pleasant land in ancient times.
Yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak-yak!
It's not theirs any more. This is our England now.
Paaaarty!
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
'My husband has killed men, I don't know how many,
'I don't know the circumstances.
'I do know better than to ask.
'There's a dark side to my husband, he has secrets.
'Defends what is his -
'it's in his blood, generation after generation.
'Do not cross my husband lightly.
'Because if he finds you, he will exact a terrible revenge.'
I'll get it.
No, it's all right, I've got it. Go back to sleep.
Hello?
This has to stop.
You better stay in your hole, you little fucking prick,
because I'll cut your throat from ear to fucking ear.
Everything all right?
Yeah. Wrong number. Let's go back to bed.
Cheers.
Cheers now.
South African?
Yes.
You are a white South African - batons and Soweto and Steve Biko?
Desmond Mandela, and the rest.
My father went out after the war, to be a policeman, for a party.
Apartheid.
They know how to treat the police out there.
They've got maids, gardeners, servants, the lot.
And a proper respect for the law.
You must've had a passport before now?
Didn't need one.
I've never been north of Bury, or south of Stockport.
These are for the Citizenship Test, Lillian.
Why would you need a Citizen...
You're not a British citizen?
There were a load of forms to fill in, I couldn't be bothered.
Woo, yeah!
Hey, come on, pace yourself, son, it's a Snickers, not a sprint.
Come on, Frank, I'm just getting warmed up.
Eh, Senorita! Come on, drinks all round.
Oh, you beauty!
Click your fingers at me again, and you'll be tickling your prostate with them.
I do apologise.
Oh, hello, are the Nursery full?
I heard the slap, didn't I? Do it again please!
When we ask for a drink, we ask with some fucking good grace.
Some fucking good grace.
Well, we would be most grateful if we could have a top up, please.
Better.
You know what,
that might've been one of the most erotic moments of my life.
I think you're confusing sex with corporal punishment. Schoolboy error.
You know that I'm good with the ladies, better than most.
Oh, you think so, do you?
Watch and learn, son.
Could I interest you...
Not unless you had a full head and body transplant.
Crashed and burned!
Mock if you must, but I have spread my seed plenty wide.
Flying solo doesn't count, Frank. Solo!
Dominos?
Anything?
Just bills and stuff. Don't worry.
Just got to, er...
Come on, then, you fucking coward! Eh!
Shadow boxing again, eh?
What are you sneaking around for?
Fuck. I'm not sneaking around,
I've got four pounds of fucking weed here, do you think I'm gonna go in through the front door!
That was out of order.
Pressure.
Oh, apology accepted.
I didn't fucking apologise.
Yeah, one of these days, I'm gonna hit back.
A little alcohol, but definitely no weed,
or her larynx will swell like a baboon's arse,
then she'll be smoking through a hole in her neck.
It's for my time. It's taking up more and more of my day.
I've noticed.
Meaning?
Don't pick a fight just cos you've got a guilty conscience.
Her mother's not got a pot to piss in.
That lot would've cost her £60 over the counter.
So, you're the Great Provider - I hear you.
Yak, yak, fucking yak.
Swear and wear a micro-mini - that'll get you ahead in life.
Start smoking while you're at it.
I already do.
I'm helping people.
So what you gonna spend your earnings on?
Is that what your big book tells you?
How to be a smart arse?
You've convinced yourself what you're doing is right, haven't you?
It is.
You've got to ask yourself -
when was the last time you got your end away?
Twice, this morning, and a blowy.
Fuck!
I have recently, frequently...
Thought not.
Don't try and out-sex me. How many women have you poked?
I haven't got a clue.
A-ha.
Look, the point is - him, he's starting out,
me, I'm at my prime. You, you're a spent force.
I mean pretty soon, your sex life will be consigned to history.
Like Spangles.
Oh. I'm out.
Got to start me shift.
32. And a half.
How many I've shagged.
I'll be back in a couple of hours, yeah.
Everything all right?
Why wouldn't it be?
20 minutes, see you then.
Where you off?
Lock up in Gorton, there's been a fire.
Have we lost...?
The lot. We've lost the lot.
Who the fuck knew about Gorton?
No-one. Had to give the lads a postcode so they could Sat-Nav it.
You need company?
No. I'll be back as soon as.
What they laughing at?
Pair of dinosaurs.
Take their bras off, and their tits'll hit their knees.
Wouldn't be a teenager again for all the money in the world.
Oh, I fucking would.
The damage I could cause, knowing what I know now.
Sandy Alexander dropped this off. Urine sample.
Any chance of the results by Tuesday, he says.
From Patty Croker, in case you'd forgotten the last set.
Patty's been warned off every GP's practice in North Manchester,
and Sandy... I think he's diabetic.
You're diagnosing people!?
I'm putting tests into the system.
They send off hundreds to the lab every day.
What's the point of having knowledge if you don't apply it?
What do you think of them as a couple?
She'd have him for breakfast.
He's a big lad, your dad.
Yeah, but she's a right dirty scrubber... You can tell.
True.
Totally clear?
Absolutely.
Jamie?
It was nailed to the door.
Whose is it?
My wife's.
16,421 souls.
That's how many I've boffed.
Before or after lunch?
Life-time, smart arse.
It's a very precise number. Not 16,500, 16,421.
Total population of the Chatsworth,
according to the Census of 2011, as reported on "Mancapedia".
You've fucked everyone on the Chatsworth?
That's one a day since you were eight.
365 times 53, your age, minus 16...
Stop.
Fuck off and count matchsticks or lines on the road, you gimp.
By association.
Sex degrees of separation.
Not a single individual on the Chatsworth that I have not fucked,
once or twice removed.
That's bollocks.
Yeah?
I've had him.
I think I would've remembered.
I fucked her. Oi!
She regularly humps her hubby, presumably. More fool him.
Again? Oi!
Hubby slithered out of the scally muff of his mother,
where young William frequently deposits his juvenile jizz.
Therefore, by association, I have jizzed where he has jizzed,
though I jizzed there first, so to speak.
How long's this been going on?
Couple of weeks.
At first I thought it was just some numpty fancying his chances,
but it's got to be a team. They're all over us.
Where we are, who we're with, when we're in or out.
I had to shred my bank cards this morning.
Someone's been in my accounts.
This is the real deal, Mam.
It could be coming from any direction.
Have you told Karen?
She'd fucking freak.
I think you'd better. Forewarned and all that.
You're going to have to smoke them out.
Find out who and then you'll know why.
My little swimmers course through the blood-streams of all.
Female or male. I am omni-gender.
See, anyone can do that.
Oh, yeah? Well, have a go, Rob Roy McGregor. You'll soon hit a hurdle.
I have, for example, deposited my stuff in your little McMuff.
Bullshit. And let's try and keep it clean.
I rode Angie, who fucked Colin G,
who shagged Tricia Patterson, who's the wife of young Danny,
who's been dipping his wick in you if I'm not mistaken.
Though, not a lot of people know that.
Fucking married!?
I am not!
So, sex degrees of separation.
I like it.
And the beauty of it is, every time one of these rides someone new,
my tally expands.
Now how's that "history"? Pint!
See you.
Hiya.
See you, sexy.
Seems unfair. I've paid taxes all my life.
No, you haven't!
Not a farthing, ever! You're the one the Daily Mail warns us about.
Chocolate? Party at yours then, is it?
Got a lot of revising to do. Lillian wants a passport.
In order to get one, she has to take a Citizenship Test.
She was born abroad, never got naturalised.
Hiya.
And now she's tossed her hat in the passport ring,
if she fails the test,
she'll be deported for being an illegal immigrant.
C'mon, trigger.
Something to say?
No.
Fuck.
Her middle name's Finola?
That's not the issue.
Are you totally sure?
White blood cell count is off the scale.
Red blood cell count is in her boots.
It's not a good combination, Jackson.
It's not a real name, is it, Finola?
It sounds more like a pet's name.
You have to tell her. Get her to a doctor.
A, you're not going to get Patty anywhere near a doctor,
and B, no way am I telling her she's dying.
Patty's dying?
No!
Maybe. We don't know.
I've got to tell Aidan.
You want to live till you're 17, you'll say nothing.
Where are you going?
Town. While she's all grown up and out trying to bag a footballer
and you're playing Doctor Dolittle, I've got a life.
With great knowledge comes great responsibility.
You have to tell her.
Just to get warmed up.
How many Parliamentary Constituencies are there?
Seven.
Close.
650. But they'll probably give multiple-choice in the test,
so stick in.
What is the difference in the average hourly wage
for men and women?
Five, ten or 20% lower for women?
Higher.
No, sweetness. Lower.
Higher.
It's not a fucking game!
I didn't get the question.
Simpler one.
How old was the Queen Mother when she passed away?
What?
How old was the Queen Mother...
The Queen Mother's not dead.
Come again?
She stole the show when William married Kate.
With her gin and her horses,
and all the young men oiled and sent up to her room.
Except Barney.
What?
I've shagged everyone on the Chatsworth except Barney.
There's no connection, nothing.
Ah, come on Frank. Not like it matters.
There, there, there.
You can't win them all.
Take them to the usual place.
I'll be there soon as I can.
And, Benny, tell absolutely no-one, understand?
Just nipping to the park.
Have fun.
See you in a bit, love.
We're on.
Be careful.
Donnelly...
McCann...
Turk...
One of you cunts has been in my house,
rifling through my wife's knicker drawer,
taking pictures of my son, my family.
Now I want to know who sent you and why.
Fuck you, Maguire.
Three...
two...
..one.
Yaah!
Strike one!
Look at him...taunting me.
He's a big cock-tease, right enough.
You know the worst of it?
He fucking loves our deep fried double bacon burgers.
Can't get enough of it.
He's at my work every fucking day reminding me of my one failure.
Failing to have fucked him by association
is your biggest failure in life?
My one and only.
Jesus Christ!
Dump them somewhere public, send out a statement.
No problems, boss.
Mam, what's up?
'They hit Karen.'
I'll be right there.
Fuck!
Ready for some questions, Champ?
I was born ready.
What do you want for Christmas, lovely?
Michael Jackson tickets.
Special guest appearance by...
Whitney.
If money were no object, where would you go on your holidays?
New York, dine at that restaurant on top of them Twin Towers.
380 degrees view out across Manhat-ley.
What's happened?
She was grabbed in the park.
Slapped her about the face in front of Connor.
And he stuffed this down the front of her shirt.
What's going on?
What the fuck is going on?
This isn't the first threat that's been made.
Well, how many?
Eight maybe.
Who is it?
I'm out of ideas.
Have you done something to put us at risk?
No.
I am properly scared, Jamie.
How many were there?
I saw one.
Tell him what he said.
That Connor is a legitimate target.
They will do a second test.
Have a consultant examine you.
Things they can do these days...
How many drinks did you have before you could tell me this?
A few.
I'm probably wrong.
I've no idea what I'm doing.
No, you'll not be wrong. There's no mistake.
The leukaemia took my mother, and her sister,
and my grandfather before them.
I knew it would come at some point.
We'll get you to a doctor first thing.
You'll do no such thing.
If I have it, I'll not be spending my last days
having radio waves shot through me.
How far gone do you think I am?
I can't possibly know that.
Yesterday, you thought you were Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman!
You saw the results.
You must have an idea.
Thank you.
If you'll excuse me, I have things to do.
How is he?
He's fine.
Don't think he even knows.
I couldn't bear it if something happened to him.
It won't.
Maybe you should leave. It might be safer.
I'm not going anywhere.
Besides, what would we be without each other, eh?
What the fuck?!
Woah, woah, woah. Stop it!
This country is brought to its knees by immigrants.
I'm second generation Bradford!
I'm an immigrant.
You're an immigrant!
I'm Irish. God's chosen tribe!
You don't even believe in God.
I believe in Ireland!
Piss off.
Aww.
Boy or girl?
Girl.
That's the ugliest fecking baby I ever saw.
Looks like the Michelin Man ate Angel Delight and took a dump.
You.
It is time you embarked on the rest of your life
and stopped dressing and behaving like a Jack Russell
in lipstick and heels.
I beg your pardon?
Another couple of years,
folk'll start thinking you actually area transvestite,
rather than merely resembling one.
Who spiked your sherry?
Ah! From Middle Earth comes the dulcet tones
of the Scouse Skank unleashed.
Who the fuck do you think ...
Ah! Now, get back in your box.
You've the face that sank a thousand ships.
No wonder your husband ran off to be with the lady-boys.
As for you...
Wheelchair or not, I will kick you in the minge.
That's all one needs to know about you.
It's a tremendous sense of freedom.
All right, Barney?
All right?
Prick tease.
Eh, Barney, wait. Hold up.
Love the old deep fried double bacon burgers, eh?
Heaven sent.
You know, after the breakfast rush, we toss a whole bunch of them.
They don't want them reheated. Very big on hygiene and that.
Why don't you come by tomorrow and I'll, you know,
put some in your direction,
save you forking out ?3.50 for a pile of old...
You know, for a lovely meal.
What's going on?
Emergency review. Wrong patients been getting the wrong results.
How many? I mean, have they found anything?
Don't know. It's not just us, it's all over the North West.
Every hospital, every department.
Oh, well... That's good.
Russian Roulette with blood test results? Proper spectator sport.
You sure you should be doing that?
My secrets are going with me...
you little gobshite.
Don't need to be so nasty.
Why on earth not?
Slutty little whore that you are?
'Blood tests all over the North will need to be triple-checked.
'Some lab in Durham cutting costs or staff or what ever.'
And that's good why?
They're re-testing Patty's sample. The results were compromised.
She's outside the house now burning stuff.
You have to tell her there's been a mistake.
Yeah, right.
She needs to know.
'Please.'
Shovel your own shit.
Oi, Reese Witherspoon. If you're finished with your nails?
Is he gone?
Sally will have him till the weekend.
Are you going to be OK?
Couple more possibilities.
I'll have the lads with me.
There's a couple of guys downstairs, inside and out.
Everything will be fine.
Out. Now.
Is this you?
What is... Ow!
Are you threatening my family?
No, I'm not! Don't be stupid.
Who have you told about us?
No-one.
Dominic knew!
That was to save your fucking life.
Would Dominic have told anyone?
He keeps secrets for a living. What is going on?!
'Jamie? Jamie, I'm sorry...'
Karen?
'I'll call you at 6pm this evening, let you know if she's still alive.'
Jamie?
I'm sorry.
How the fuck?
We didn't know she'd gone out.
You should've told us. I might've been able to help.
And don't give me the stare cos I won't take it off you.
This isn't the time. What's the plan?
Nothing to do till six o'clock.
We really don't know anything about these fucks?
All the usual suspects, none of them.
That's what we know.
So, first of all, I was dying...
and now I am not dying.
I don't know.
They're going to re-test your sample.
Chances are you've just got a virus or something.
I destroyed my possessions
and allowed a bank transfer of all my savings to my idiot daughter.
How is Libby?
She's an idiot, like she always was.
And don't try to distract
by feigning concern where you have none.
There's nothing noble in telling a lie to protect a liar.
I've burnt my bridges left and right,
told everyone my true opinion, that they're arseholes,
and now will be completely isolated.
We could say I gave you the wrong pills and that you were confused.
Oh, because doolally and old folk are natural bedfellows, of course!
I think we've heard enough stories from you, don't you think?
You OK?
Getting there.
It's a recognised condition, 'historophobia'.
The American Medical Association classifies it as a proper phobia.
So, it's just totally random?
No, no, no. It's historical facts she can't cope with.
That would upset her so she just blanks them out.
Pretends they never happened?
Yeah. Pretty much.
But then she'd have to rewrite the whole of history.
That's what's fascinating.
She's created this whole narrative in her own head.
She lives in a parallel universe.
Well, that would explain a great fucking deal.
Jamie.
Everything all right?
Mind your own business.
I want to fucking...
'Jamie, I'm all right. Tell him to fuck right off.'
Karen!
'You're still here? I take it your wife's disposable.'
Anything but.
She's done nothing.
Take me.
I'll go anywhere, any time.
Are you still there?
'Tomorrow morning, be in your shitty Merc, on Findhorn Road at 9am.
'No vests, no mates, no pals watching your arse.'
Fine.
'And you've put me in a lot of trouble,
'so make sure you bring 200 grand with you.'
I don't have that kind of money.
'Then I'll kill your wife.'
OK. We'll get a couple of motors, plain but sharp, you know.
Keep a distance. Too risky.
We'll never collect 200 grand across one night, love,
we could borrow it, but we might as well paint targets on our backs.
Besides, if it's a choice between you and her...
Will they stop there?
What if it's you the next time? Or Cilla?
I've got the money.
You what?
I've got it. Going away fund in case of a moonlight flit.
If something happens...
take Karen and Connor and help them start somewhere else,
away from here.
Who was Britain's first woman Prime Minister?
Don't be silly, you can't have a woman Prime Minister.
Who is the England football manager?
The Italian. You know, the one that looks like Mrs Brown.
Look, you fucking mad Afrikaner!
Even if you don't believe it, learn it, pass the test,
or there'll be no passport and no fucking holiday to Benidorm!
But I love them documentaries.
Just learn it, parrot-fashion, try not to think!
I'll try.
She's got no chance.
They'll deport her.
Couldn't someone go with her?
You think they let mates in?!
No, but take the test alongside her,
less intimidating if she had a pal there.
Keys.
Put these on,... put your own clothes inside.
Fuck you.
Wait!
This how you get your kicks, is it, stripping men?
Follow the Sat-Nav. When you get there, leave the money in the car.
'Turn right'.
Be right with you, two minutes.
Here we go. The one that got away.
Yeah! Complete the set.
Frank?!
It's not what it looks like!
OK, maybe it is.
Hello?
I'm unarmed!
Oi! You fuck!
I'm here!
Got my money.
If I don't get my wife back safe and smiling,
you will be found, you fuck!
Thank fuck! I thought they'd bluffed me.
Are you all right, Karen?
I will be.
Right come on, babe. We need to get out of here, it's not safe.
Nobody's coming, Jamie.
Nobody's coming.
What are you talking about?
Just me.
'Still here? I take it your wife is disposable?'
'Still here? I take it your wife is disposable.'
It's an App. Any kid can get it for a couple of quid.
You lied to me.
I'll get it.
No, it's all right. I've got it. Go back to sleep.
'You better stay in your hole, you little fucking prick,
'cos I will cut your throat from ear to fucking ear.'
The phone calls, the text messages... the pictures.
All me.
Guy in the park?
Me. There was no guy.
Hi!
I went to great lengths because this matters.
This is family.
The kidnapping?
A night in the Marriott, it wasn't too shabby.
Are you off your meds?
No, you cunt!
You fucked Gloria.
You could've fucked all of Manchester and I'd never have known,
but you didn't.
It was a mistake.
Yeah, too fucking right!
What if I'd left?
Then I'd have known that we don't matter to you.
But we do.
I do.
You stood up for your family.
Good for you.
I'm impressed.
Things will be different.
'Now, I'm in charge.
'Though only you and I need to know that.'
'How's that gonna work?'
'Every bit of money comes through me, income and expenditure.
'You probably think you can hide some,
'like you did with the 200K, but I will know.
'And, by the way,...
'your going-away fund is now my going-away fund.'
What if it doesn't work?
It will.
You love me...
and despite all your weaknesses...
..I love you.
Now, should anything ever happen to me,
my friend in the Ford has a lot of information...
on your past...
and your present.
Who is he?
Every marriage has its secret.
I know, and I'm sorry, but...
I'll be right with you.
Everything all right?
It's these fucking re-tests!
They want the drug history of ICU going back a month.
Are these the false results?
No, they're originals.
All triple-checked. They're accurate.
Are you sure?
It's a good job you're pretty.
This is me final word on it and I won't keep going on,
but there are reasons governments and corporations don't pay ransoms.
Now every one of us is a target, cos they know we'll pay out.
Thanks, Mum. I'm glad you're not gonna keep going on about it.
I won't!
Hi, love.
Frank, it's over, leave the man alone now!
Yeah, you're probably right.
Things are better imperfect, you know, they're not...finished.
Will you still get your dole money, now that you've been fired?
I weren't fired.
Technically, my position fell victim to internal restructuring.
Oh! So they didn't want bad publicity?
"Worker spunks in burger".
For an alcoholic, you're a very astute man.
I'll drink to that.
Someone's got the love-balls in.
I'm official.
Passed her citizenship test.
Stood in the queue. She's all passport-ed up!
Good for you.
What's up with sour puss?
Fucking failed the test!
7 out of 24.
Serve these while I go and see to Cilla.
Tell her.
I can't.
"You're dying, you're not dying, you're dying." It's cruel.
Let this be the end of all that Doctor Dolittle stuff.
Doctor Dolittle talked to the animals, you fucking arsehole!
You absolutely loathe me, don't you?
'My husband has killed men.
'He's a strong man...
'a violent man, if need be.
'I love my husband.'
'But he lied to me too often... too harshly,
'and now things have altered, permanently.
'You'd do well to remember,
'revenge is a dish best served.... female.'
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
Oh, yeah. I've had her....and her.
Well, I've had her... and her.
I've had her...
and her sister.
Well, I've had the mother, a night I'd rather forget.
I've had her, when she was married to Terry B.
I had Terry B's second wife,... before they hooked up.
Which means...
I've had... You?!