Hello, is this emergency?
Yeah, I was just wondering if anyone's handed in a penis recently.
You will burn in hell for this, you bastard!
Found it. Must have rolled under the side of the bed.
Go! Go!
Mrs Alford. Yes.
I was just wondering if your husband Alexander was at home?
Well, what's it about?
Hello there. What seems to be the trouble here?
Oh, yes. It's very bruised.
Is that tender? Oh! Yes.
Yeah, I was kicked in 'em.
Here? Oh, yeah! Yeah.
Does it pass when you hurt urine? It hurts when I squeeze toothpaste.
It hurts when I change radio stations. It fucking hurts, alright?
It's like I've got a couple of bowling balls down there.
Can you achieve an erection?
Bernie, do you think I'm going to pull this out in front of anybody
who hasn't had medical training? It looks like a blue-ringed octopus!
Yes, well, I would avoid show-and-tell for some time.
In fact, I'd steer clear of sex for awhile.
I suspect it's only bruising,
but I wouldn't mind running some tests.
You absolute bastard!
Uh, I'm sorry. Would you excuse us, please, ladies?
I, uh, think someone's got the grumps with me.
Excuse me.
You attacked this woman and then you conned me into covering for you.
I haven't been charged and I didn't do it.
Because of you I perjured myself in a sworn statement to the police.
Yes. Yes, why did you do that?
I had trouble understanding that myself, then I got these.
Where are they? Jesus, filing. Oh, here we go!
Oh, look, here's a nice one of you getting into the lifts at the Hyatt.
1:51pm, around the same time
I'm supposed to be knocking off this woman.
Hot to go to the 21st floor. You had me followed?
No! No interest in you whatsoever.
This is against the law.
Oh, surely you must know by now
for all practical purposes I am the law in this state
and he is my direct opposition.
It's my business to know everything about him,
so imagine our delight when the Pretzel gets in the lift
two minutes after you and then guess what floor he goes to?
Nothing happened. I just had a drink with him.
Ah, well, this one suggests otherwise.
One hour and 15 minutes later.
Yeah, he's not a stayer, is he?
Look, word of advice from an old hand, hey?
Always take two lifts and leave ten minutes apart.
You will never get away with what you've done to this poor woman.
You keep forgetting I haven't been charged.
I'm just a person of interest.
I love that term.
It's worth of a gravestone.
Callum Dalgleish McGregor - person of interest.
You don't scare me.
Oh, wow.
Yeah, big wow, big wow. Oh.
OK, that's it. That has, that has to be it.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that's it.
Yeah, I can't, we can't... do this.
I can't keep doing this. I know, I know.
OK. I agree.
I'm getting married in three weeks, you know?
If I keep doing this, I'm going to go mad.
I'm not this sort of person, you know?
At least, I never thought I was.
I know. You're not. I'm not.
You're not and I'm not.
I'm not the kind of person who has shabby affairs.
Oh!
Alright. OK.
Yep. Alright.
Yep. Oh!
This is late even by my standards.
Get off my case, will you? I got caught up, alright?
You've got Tuesday's buttons in Wednesday's holes, mate.
So? You once turned up to a conference with the DPP
in a dressing gown.
Yeah, but I'm the dissolute brilliant one. You're Watson.
No, you're just dissolute.
Still sore?
I'm tenured.
12 years as an IT lecturer.
I co-wrote the authoritative manual on 120 ARM processing notes.
So I should be in a lecture hall right now
teaching my Indian students about gigaflops
and instead I'm here listening to this humiliating nonsense.
Why is that?
The police felt your history with your neighbour suggested a pattern.
There is no logical sequence of events here
describing a uniform pattern.
It's merely a few squabbles and, what, I'm supposed to have
cut off the man's johnson?
It's more than a few squabbles.
The police have a list of 23 separate incidents here
over a nine-month period.
I mean, even to non-computer people, it does look like a bit of a pattern.
Now, I understand it all kicked off with a noise complaint
about a neighbour's birthday party.
Was it a 21st or something?
Hunter was turning six.
It was an unbelievable commotion. Tell them, please, Alannah.
Well, I, we don't have children of our own,
so we're not used to that level of noise.
Alex called the police.
What time was this? Well, three in the afternoon.
Oh, fair enough.
Yeah. Alex had been to a conference and he was trying to nap.
I was exhausted.
And then he dumped garbage on your lawn
and you dumped an old tyre on his. An old burning tyre.
And then he cut down our beautiful silver birch.
Yes, after you had urinated in his petrol tank.
Alex, this is a very serious charge.
Police have found DNA evidence,
your fingerprints and traces of his blood on the...
..on the instrument they believe was used.
Yep, and I loaned him those garden shears ages ago
and he never returned them and of course it's got my DNA on it.
I told the police all this! Does anyone listen anymore?
I understand you were all once friends
in a golden age before Archduke Ferdinand was shot.
Alex and Bob were in Rotary together
and played squash.
Squash! Went fishing.
Never caught a thing. And were you friends with his wife?
Well, we played golf a couple of times.
She's very good and I'm more of a tennis girl.
I guess we were friends, but this is so very wrong.
I did not cut off his business!
I did not.
Mmm.
I did not!
IT people, just, we don't do that sort of thing!
Jesus!
We'll speak later.
Darling.
Alex and Alannah, Barbara and Bob.
Perfect initials on the bathroom towels
out here in this Utopian dream.
What the fucken blue blazes happened in there, mate?
Alex is a volunteer with St John's Ambulance,
Alannah Meals On Wheels, Barbara golfs.
One of them collects penises.
A fall from grace is a bloody quick elevator ride, mate, I tell you.
What man chops off another man's tackle?
And then ties a piece of string around the stump
so the victim doesn't bleed to death.
Radical circumcision's not a Rotarian rite, is it?
They still frown on it.
It has to be Bob's wife. It's what wives do to husbands.
She's a nurse.
Ah, but good Mrs Oakley was at a golf tournie
with 200 eye witnesses admiring her short game.
I've met someone.
Shit. Yeah.
Does Scarlet know?
Sort of.
When you say 'met'. I mean I'm in...
I think there might be a chance I'm in love with the woman.
She seems to make sense somehow.
And the sex, what she does... Yes, but are you sure that's not it?
I mean, you know, it could just be a root.
You're not obliged to fall in love.
I'm not a farm animal. I don't just root people.
I'm not built that way.
It has to be love. It has to be.
Do I know her? No, no, no, no.
No, look, it doesn't matter. It's not going anywhere anyway.
She's get, she's with someone.
Jesus.
Why do chicks always feel the need to do the phone thing
with their fingers?
Do you think they think we don't know what a phone is?
When Alexander Bell invented the phone,
do you think his wife invented the finger thing at the same time?
Mate, the most wonderful news.
Cal McGregor's raped someone - direct from my contact in the force.
Has he been charged? Not yet, not public.
Still building a case.
The only thing standing between him and eight years
in an all-men's shower facility
is the testimony of that bitch working for him.
If you're referring to Scarlet Engels,
she and her husband are friends of mine.
OK. Well, in that case, I'm sorry to tell you
my cop contact reckons she's lying
and may end up joining Cal in prison.
David, you do realise this is a great day for the party.
I did mention she's a friend of mine!
Your boss is in a sea of trouble.
I'm told you're his only alibi.
Did you have a meeting with him or are you covering for him?
Hello, David.
Are you asking me this out of concern for me
or wanting to put the boot into him?
I'm sorry, but I need to know.
Was this meeting real? Did it happen?
No. I lied.
Jesus, you lied to the police?
You signed a sworn statement.
That's right.
Have you any idea what you've done? Why would you do that for him?
The meeting that didn't happen with Cal coincided perfectly
with the time that you and I were angsting on a hotel bed,
so I just thought...
You are kidding.
Had I known that I was supplying a watertight,
diarised alibi for rape I might have given it a second thought,
but at the time all I could think was, 'Yay, we got away with it.'
You are not putting this on me.
I thought I was helping. Bugger that! You were protecting yourself!
And Barney.
I'm sorry, Scarlet, but no matter how I feel about you,
I cannot and will not be a party to perjury.
You're on your own.
That much I do know.
Hey.
What are you doing? Timing.
Timing what?
This claims to be a current affairs show.
They've spent 2 minutes 10 on border protection
and 6 minutes 20 on one of the lesser Kardashians.
Up next I speak with celebrity psychiatrist Sandra Wilson
about what impact this divorce might have on the family.
I once timed a sex scene with Salma Hayek.
One of the happiest 1 minute and 23 seconds of my life.
I thought we might go out for dinner. Oh, I've eaten.
What did you eat? Twisties.
Could I interest you in another food group?
Ya.
Hey. I'm having a dinner for Fuzz's birthday.
Has he told you he's got a new girlfriend?
No. How old's this one?
Do I have to pick her up from an aged care facility?
She's 17. I've met her once. She's a bit serious, but she seems gorgeous
and cute and he's super keen.
Bring Melissa if you like.
Oh, I've told you, it's not like that.
Did you? I don't remember. I'm bringing someone.
Who are you bringing? This guy.
Which guy?
Sally's ex, Roger.
Roger. So to our son's birthday dinner,
you are bringing the husband of the woman our son was porking?
Fuzz gets on with him and he likes Fuzz.
Vampire 2 has cleared off and he's here looking after their kids
and I like him.
Oh, you like him? Yeah, I like him.
Yes, yeah, I heard you.
What are you...? OK, well, it's nice that you've got nice new friends.
Hang on, have you got a problem?
No, I don't have a problem. Why would I? No.
Problem!
I'll see you there.
Oh.
Are you right there? Do you want to throw a little something on?
I'm covered.
Yeah, you're covered in a way that says,
'I'm naked apart from this little bit of covering here.'
I'm gonna go to bed.
Oh, well.
Did you leave me any Twisties?
You sent me an official invitation.
'The honourable August and Maria Vargas
invite you to attend the matrimonial of their most precious daughter
Nicolette Maria St Agnes Magdalene...'
Yeah, it did not say that and I only invited you
because I thought you'd say no.
What, free canapes and booze and a chance to laugh at your relatives?
Why would I say no? Please, just don't come, OK?
You'll get drunk and you will argue with my extremely right-wing family
and you'll ruin my special day.
I've already RSVP-ed. I am there, baby.
I'll be good. Barney will keep his eye on me.
No, he is not coming! He's not available.
He won't be there. What do you mean, he's not available?
Barney never does anything. Of course he's available.
A coward. Yes, Your Honour.
A gutless peddler of smear.
Yes, Your Honour.
Unreliable. Yes, that too, Your Honour.
And untrustworthy.
Indeed, Your Honour, I called the plaintiff all of those things.
So we're agreed on the imputations, then.
At least that's some progress.
So, Mr Greene, where do you stand?
Uh, well, Your Honour, I shall, of course, be pleading truth.
I see it as my duty not only to this court,
but to decent society at large
to prove that Mr Potter is all of those things.
This stinks, you know?
I didn't start it. Yes, you did!
Mr Potter, you hold yourself up publicly
to be an honourable and truthful man.
Would that be a fair comment?
I don't know if I do that,
but I like to think of myself as an honest man.
I see. Mr Potter, this is a transcript of a TV interview
you gave on The Today Project, dated July 12 this year.
Is that correct?
I suppose so.
Your Honour, if you turn to the last page,
the interviewer, Ms Polly Nesbitt,
asks the plaintiff, and I quote,
'Have you read the best-seller A Thousand Lies I Have Told
by the ex-prostitute JM Doolan.
Word is that half her clients were Labor Party bigwigs.'
To which you responded, 'I haven't read it.'
Later, in response to another question,
'As I say, I don't know. I haven't read it, Polly.
I wish I had more time to read. I especially love fiction.'
Let me remind you, Mr Potter, you are under oath here.
Have you read A Thousand Lies I Have Told?
Yes.
Am I correct in assuming you had read it
at the time of the interview, Mr Potter?
Yes.
I see. So on national television, you openly lied
to millions of your fellow Australians.
Poor man. He was only protecting his privacy.
Can't good people make the odd mistake
without the whole world judging them?
We're only human.
That's been my argument since I was 13.
No, you used up your quota of forgivable mistakes years ago.
Ah!
I've called you in today because I thought we might settle
on an appropriate term before this wretched trial commences.
Uh, an appropriate term?
Mmm, yes. An appropriate one.
An appropriate term for what, exactly, Your Honour?
We're grown men here.
Given the nature of the case,
references will be made apropos the item in question
and we need to find a workable term.
Ah.
One that won't provoke sniggers in the court.
Right, so no then to meat popsicle or pink flute.
I will not have this trial reduced to a mindless sideshow
of tawdry innuendo and filth talk, do you hear me, Cleaver?
Absolutely, Your Honour. All fair seas.
No dingle-dangles, no Mr Winkies.
Wouldn't the term penis satisfy, Dougal?
Ugly word.
I want something that might... elevate
this deeply unpleasant case.
Well, it's a hard one to elevate, isn't it?
Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound quite like it did.
I don't mean to be indelicate, Your Honour,
but, uh, may I ask how you refer to it in the home context?
We never do.
Well, sometimes, but in context of moments
of deep personal interconnection.
Of course. It's just that I know your wife to be a woman
of delicate sensibility who would never use an offensive term.
When discussing matters of hygiene when the boys were growing up,
she referred to it as a whatnot.
A whatnot? Yes.
A useful pseudonym which causes few blushes,
but not appropriate here.
Well, my father referred to it as his nonsense,
or nonny, although I'm not sure either term
is legal lingua franca.
I'm very comfortable with either.
No, what I propose is we should refer to it
by its correct Latin name, the membrum virile.
Membrum virile. I don't think I've heard that one.
It's in the Greater Dictionary. Ah. Hmm.
I think it's wonderful!
It's readily accessible, it's inoffensive
and yet in common, everyday usage.
Good. Then we are settled.
I remind you, gentlemen, this is a most serious charge
and the honour of the court must not be traduced.
Your Honour.
Oh. Are you right there?
Yeah, I copped one in the membrum.
The Crown will present detailed DNA evidence
and a tale of a once happy community
falling into hostility and violence
as a result of reprehensible actions by the accused, Alexander Alford.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to look at this poor man.
Robert Oakley is a respected public servant
once charged with building the education revolution
in the primary schools of New South Wales.
He was a proud man, but by virtue of the accused
and a pair of garden shears,
he has been separated from that which traditionally defines
our masculinity.
Bob now can have no more children.
Relations with his lovely wife will be... forever tricky.
This is a brutal, brutal crime by a man
who deserves your absolute condemnation.
The case against my client, you will find,
is entirely circum... stantial.
In 100% of cases of the relatively recent phenomenon of Bobbitting,
the assailant was found to be a woman -
the victim's lover or wife.
100%.
And yet the Crown would have you believe
that my client - a decent, hard-working IT lecturer -
was reduced to an act of animal depravity
on the basis of what?
The Crown will try to present examples
of squabbles between these families,
where things may have gotten a little out of hand,
but haven't we all known times
when our neighbours have driven us to madness?
When we may have wanted to drop a bit of litter on their lawn
or scrawl a commonly used expletive on a child's slide
or, or urinate in their petrol tank.
But how many here would seriously think
that this could lead to the sort of terrible crime
that my client is accused of?
Ladies and gentlemen, it makes no sense.
The surgeons managed to sew it back on.
I'm only grateful that I already have two beautiful children
and a wife who's prepared to stand by me.
You are a monster! JUDGE: Please, control yourself.
The police report tells us that there were traces of Rohypnol
in the bottle of cider that you drank that night.
That's correct. Alex knew every night before dinner
I like my small bottle of imported English cider.
Presumably he wouldn't have been the only person
who would have been a custodian of that information.
Your wife, among others, would have known.
My wife was away for the weekend at a golf tournament
when I was attacked.
When was the last time my client was in your home?
Um, maybe 18 months ago.
I see, so you figure that 18 months ago,
knowing he was going to fall out with you,
my client slipped a sleeping draft in ye olde English cider bottle
and bided his time.
Obviously he broke in when I was out.
Oh, I see. So locks were broken, there were signs of unlawful entry?
No, but he is a computer expert,
so he could have decoded my security system.
I see. Well, he could have been the bassoon player
with the Lithuanian Philharmonic, but he wasn't.
Tell me, have you always been faithful to your wife, Mr Oakley?
Yes.
Right, may I remind you you are under oath here.
You've never slept with another woman while married.
No, never. I mean, Barbara's my rock.
No further questions. Thank you, Your Honour.
Now, to be absolutely clear, you spend the night in question
in the company of women at a golf tournament.
123 to be precise.
That's a lot of witnesses.
Given the number of incidents you have recounted to this court,
you became fearful of your neighbour, the accused.
I did. He changed.
Alex was a placid, shapeless man who used to bore us
with the pros and cons between PCs and Macs
and suddenly he seemed to snap.
It was... it was like living in the Gaza Strip.
You said in your testimony that you heard Alex
threaten to cut off your husband's membrum virile.
His what?
His membrum virile. His... whatnot.
Nonsense. Nonny.
His penis, you mean?
Now, what exactly are you claiming the accused said, Mrs Oakley?
I heard raised voices and Alex yelling,
'I'll bloody chop your knob off!'
So he made no direct anatomical reference whatsoever,
a knob meaning anything from a door handle to a node of butter.
Now, tell me, as a trained nurse of 12 years standing,
how difficult would it be to apply a clamp after severance?
I think you would need to know what you were doing.
I thought as much.
You do know that Alex did several St John's Ambulance courses.
So they teach that, do they, at St John's?
Snakebites, CPR, membrum virile removal?
'Bevan, with all my heart I give myself to you,
knowing our love will last a lifetime,
that our long journey together will be one of discovery
as we share each other's dreams and hopes
and build a future to, um... '
Barney, can you, uh, meet me, please?
Dad.
Ah. It's really great to see you.
How are you? Ah, I'm good, good, mate.
Happy birthday. Yeah, no, well done, Cleave.
It only took you four reminders this year.
Hey, come on, Mum. Uh, Dad, this is Tara.
Lovely to meet you, Tara. You too.
And this is Melissa. Ah, I read your book.
Oh, how'd you go with it? I finished it.
Well, I loved it, although I did wonder about
that childlike, substance-abusing, backgammon-playing lawyer.
I mean, could anyone be that dysfunctional?
Well, it's great to have both of you here.
Mmm. Now, listen, mate, I thought you could probably do with the dough
rather than a boring old present, OK?
Thanks, Dad.
Just don't cash it before the 17th.
And, actually - oh, give me a call, OK?
You could use that to buy those books I was telling you about.
Oh, well, I'm sure our author would be thrilled to hear
that you're buying books.
It's a series and they're all connected.
With each one you kind of learn more.
The plot thickens. ROGER: Hello!
Oh, hey, Rog! Hey, Rog.
Hello. This is Tara.
Hey, Tara. How are you? Hey.
Roger, Cleaver, you remember Roger?
Indeedy, I do. I've been looking forward to seeing you, Cleave.
I've been counting the hours too, Roger.
Now, from memory, you are a big Rabbitohs fan, right?
Yeah, no, not really. I've sort of gone off the game.
Since when?
Oh, I don't know.
Just lately it's all just sexual assault
and groin strain these days.
It's a shame you've gone off it. Roger consults as an osteopath.
He could have gotten you free season tickets.
Mmm.
Now.
For you, Fuzz. Spot's old jumper.
Signed and possibly unwashed.
Brilliant. Oh, thanks, Roger.
Oh, man, you can smell the sweat and blood.
Not forgetting the lady of the house.
Now, you said you like authentic kasundi, right?
God knows what it's like. Feel free to chuck it in the bin.
I find kasundi a little bland or something, do you know what I mean?
It's a bit - Melissa makes her own harissa relish, don't you, darling?
No, I don't. I thought you said you did.
No, you didn't.
Happy birthday, Fuzz, darling.
Yes, happy birthday, mate. Good on you. Good one.
Thanks, Roger. Thanks, everyone.
Well, dig in. Would you mind, before we start?
Mind what? If we hold hands.
Uh, well, not in principle, but how am I going to eat?
It's something I need to do before each meal, Dad.
To pay respect to his bounty.
Whose bounty, sorry?
Dad.
Ah...
Um...
♪ Jesus is our friend
♪ He's here with us tonight
♪ Let's make him welcome
♪ Show our delight
♪ Jesus is our Lord
♪ Rejoice in his blessing
♪ Jesus is our Lord. ♪
Amen. Amen. Amen.
This looks great.
Well done, Mum. God Almighty!
Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!
Oh!
Oh! Oh!
Ah! Fuck!
Your Honour, I respectfully submit
the charges against my client be dismissed.
There is clearly a serial Bobbitter on the loose.
We now have two - I'm sorry, what would the plural be, membri?
That would be second declension neuter, yes.
And how appropriate that it is neuter, Your Honour.
What do you have to say about this, Mr Crown?
Your Honour, the Prosecution wishes to continue.
Are you seriously suggesting the man de-membrumised himself?
It's possible in order to escape a lengthy prison term
the accused committed an act of self-mutilation.
We've already established this man is prepared to do
absolutely anything in this neighbourhood war.
Your Honour, rather than torturing my poor client,
we should be out there advising the good burghers of Concord
to wear protective kit.
No, Mr Greene, I have heard nothing that warrants dismissal
of this case. We shall continue Friday.
If your client is unable to attend,
the court will organise a video link.
He'll make it here.
A couple of ounces lighter, maybe, but he will be here.
So I was thinking I'd start with a lunch with Christian at the Herald.
'Awful about that Cal McGregor rape shit.
Oh, you didn't know? Oh, please forget I said anything.
Is your salad soggy?'
The man hasn't been charged yet. That's why we leak it.
Publicly, you say you won't comment,
everyone has the right to the presumption of innocence,
blah, blah, blah, but we get it out there,
otherwise we lose traction.
I think cool heads.
Jesus, David, you're a bloody killjoy.
This is the first glimmer of hope we've had
since that last bowel-cleansing election.
Can't we look for hope in our policies, in our people,
in our agenda going forward rather than always be
tearing down other people on the basis of gutter talk?
What, you are joking, right?
Do you know who I hate most of all?
Me?
Never you.
Mick Jagger.
The man's spent a lifetime behaving exactly as he likes -
women, parties, drugs, more women.
I've spent 40 years trying to have good values,
trying to forge the kind of life that would lead me
to the position I now occupy.
But if you ask any many - or any woman, for that matter -
whose life they'd prefer, his or mine...
He does move well.
40 years.
If only they'd tell you when you're little,
'Go feral, do as you please. Everyone will love you for it.'
Why wasn't I told?
How many people do you reckon die paragons of virtue
simply because they didn't get found out?
Impossible these days - one foot out of line,
a millisecond later, there you are on YouTube.
Everyone knows everyone else's business.
Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn.
Do you know how many phone accounts we have, David? Seven.
Seven phone bills arrive every month
and I don't want to speak with anyone.
Oh, fuck 'em.
Tell them whatever you want. I don't care.
Time to be a rock star.
David. I'm really sorry.
I'm truly, really fucking sorry.
I am so sorry.
From the bottom of my heart, I mean it,
I'm really, I'm really, truly sorry.
Things happen and you don't have any idea why
and you don't mean for them to happen, but they just happen anyway.
I'm really not a bad person, I promise.
I never thought you were. Oh, God, this is such a bloody mess!
Wedding plans going well then, I see?
To say I'm surprised would be selling the truth below wholesale.
I'm in trouble.
Last time I saw you, you told me to get out
and said that you never wanted to see me again.
I know what I said. I'm sorry.
Are you sorry or are you in trouble?
'Cause I'm afraid I'm knee-deep in penises at the moment.
I think I'm going to go to prison.
Right.
Scarlet loves you so much, Barney,
and I love Bevan and I am going to make this work
and, and if you love me, then you'll be happy for me
and you won't see me again.
Hang on, hang on. You said you saw my wife.
Yeah, she confronted me in Cleaver's room.
She confronted you?
What the hell was she doing in Cleaver's room?
She came to see me and I, and she knows
and I, I started crying and it's just all, it's...
Goodbye.
You may not have a legal problem.
The wheels of justice being what they are
will gradually grind Cal's victim into the dirt
until she can no longer remember her own name.
What you do have is a moral problem.
So do I protect this woman and incriminate myself?
I'm going to have to ask you who you were with.
That's not relevant. Well, you know they'll ask.
David.
David? Hmm.
David Attenborough? David Beckham?
Oh, please, no! David, not Harry, sorry, fuck!
Oh!
What is it with this guy?
I opened the cookie jar and he shoves his hand in.
Thanks for that analogy.
You know this little prick is currently suing me
for every cent I have, little hypocrite.
That's not my concern. Nothing happened between me and him.
Please, can you just tell me what to do?
Well, you know what you have to do.
Cal McGregor can't get away with this, no matter what happens to you.
We're going to have to go to the police.
And tell the truth?
Not what I said. Give us your phone.
You see? It's in Arabic.
Three months ago, a stupid joke played on me at a party.
Guilty.
And it keeps reverting to Arabic and it has the Muslim calendar.
When I try to adjust it, the date shifts back a day,
so the meeting that I swore I was at with Cal McGregor
I now realise was the day before.
If you knew the phone was dodgy,
why didn't you double-check the dates before signing your statement?
Well, she did, but her office computer's linked to this phone
and so the mistake was carried.
That's what interconnectivity is - the same fuck-up replicated globally.
I feel terrible about this, Scarlet. It's as much my fault, Cleave.
You do realise it's a very serious offence
to lie on a sworn statement to the police.
Absolutely she does and that's why as soon as she realised
she came straight here.
Well, you're in luck.
It would seem the woman in question has admitted
she can't be certain of her facts.
Charges have been dropped.
But they, they, it could be true.
That's what I'm saying. His alibi doesn't necessarily hold.
It's over. Consider yourself lucky.
He got to her. If I'd come forward at the time...
No, no, he would have still paid her off.
Come on, you're in the clear.
Mmm, so I'm respectable again. That was easy.
God, it's so bloody tenuous.
Wouldn't know - never been respectable.
Never had all that far to fall.
I've got to go.
You OK?
I have missed you, you know.
Jesus, I'll go. Thanks, thanks. Bye.
Alex, you have to tell us what happened, mate.
Facebook, Twitter, YouTube.
No, not me. Give me Cobalt, give me Pascal, give me Basic,
Visual Basic, C, any day.
That's the kind of guy I am.
Thought I am.
A Trojan got into the system.
That's what happened. A virus corrupted my system.
All Alannah ever wanted was kids.
And you couldn't have them?
She was desperate, crying all the time.
The doctors said that she was an intensely fertile woman,
so the problem had to be me, so I, I paid that miserable bastard
$15,000 to impregnate her.
Right, so you paid Bob to artificially inseminate Alannah.
No. She wanted it all to be natural.
She had no time for test tubes.
OK. And how many times would you say that she and Bob were... natural?
43 times...
..at critical moments in her cycle.
That's quite a lot of natural.
And did his wife know about this?
No. He made it a condition that she didn't know.
But Alannah didn't conceive.
And he flatly refused to give us our money back.
He was paid to impregnate her, not to have sex with her.
We were cheated, me of my money and her of a baby.
It's like someone turning up to make your driveway,
but... not bringing cement.
You realise this has implications. It gives the Prosecution a motive.
I've been lying here for the last four days
wondering if I'd been a Mac guy, would my life have been different?
Using a UNIX base system with a C++ language.
Harder for Trojans to get in.
43 times without scoring?
The man should avoid poker.
It doesn't help our boy, though - it puts him dead in the spotlight.
Barn.
Yeah, they're gonna argue it was an eye for an eye, so to speak.
I still smell a woman's hand in there somewhere.
How can we get our hands on his and Oakley's medical records?
Listen, Nicole said she saw Scarlet in your office.
Yeah. Why?
I think she thinks that I've been punished enough,
so it's cool for us to work together.
She said that? Yeah.
Words to that effect.
See if you can get your hands on Bob Oakley's medical records, alright?
Right.
Cough. Why? I don't have a cold.
Neither does it. Alright, don't then.
The swelling seems to be subsiding.
All your tests are back, everything's OK.
Should be back to full strength in a week or so.
Hmm. Hey, uh, Bern, did you look at those files I sent you?
I told you, Cleaver, he's not my patient.
But... let me ask you this - does he had a permanent cold?
No... Oh, well, he's always sneezing.
Hmm. Could be silica on the balls. Makes men infertile.
Well, it can't be that. He's got two kids.
Ah.
OK, now give me a hug.
Aw! Aw! Daddy loves you very much.
OK, OK. Ricky, Daddy's not a well man.
Come on, big cuddle. Bye, kids!
Come on, Bob. Quick, quick, quick. Bye.
This all comes down to my cross examination.
I need this, Barnyard.
Watch in awe as I rediscover the source of the Nile.
Mr Oakley, you stated under oath that you never cheated on your wife.
Do you still hold to that?
Um, in my heart I never cheated.
That's not the organ we're focusing on here, Mr Oakley.
Let me put the question to you again -
did you place your membrum virile
anywhere near the - what would the Latin word be?
Um, oh, of course - vagina of another woman?
Specifically, were you not paid a sum of $15,000
to have sex with Alannah Alford
in order that she might conceive a much-wanted child?
I'm so sorry, Barbara.
I was only doing it to help them out.
And, I mean, you, you and I, we weren't communicating.
You were always off on a golf course somewhere. Mr Oakley.
But you weren't really trying to help them, were you, Mr Oakley?
You were just trying to fleece them, because you knew very well
that you were incapable of having a child.
What are you talking about? I've got two children.
Barbara? Barbara? Excuse me.
Barbara, just tell them. Sorry.
Barbara!
Uh...
I put it to you that once you became aware of your husband's infidelities,
you became hell-bent on revenge.
I suggest that you snuck out of your golf tournament,
you drove back to the city,
you jumped the neighbour's fence, you got the garden shears
and you went about your terrible business.
I did nothing of the sort.
I couldn't have cared less if he had an affair.
I couldn't bear to be with him!
OK, I know that my life is just going to be
a giant internet joke anyway, so here it is -
Bob, neither child is yours.
I've been having affairs
to break the interminable boredom of life with you.
Order! I've been having them for years.
Bob was never a sexual man.
He, he was never much of a man at all.
I won't have you say that!
Bobby is a sexual dynamo who made me cross boundaries
that I never thought that I could.
You turned to golf because the tennis girls
didn't trust you with their husbands!
Order! What are you saying?
Your Honour, I might need a moment to confer with my client.
I saw you, Alex! You were climbing the fence and holding the shears!
Order!
The next minute, my darling Bobby had been brutalised.
Well, I finally got some justice!
Mrs Alford! Alannah, did you...?
If you want it back, I would try the wild cats' cage at the zoo.
And for the record, they didn't find it very satisfying!
Your Honour, uh... Oh, forget it.
Order!
Less the Nile, more Shit Creek.
So, Barnyard, uh... my secretary has, uh,
spent much of the past working week sobbing into chambers' toilet paper.
Now, normally I'd put that down to me,
but I do have to ask you, mate,
this mysterious lady who's been taking you to new horizons
of orgasmic fulfillment,
that wouldn't happen to be Nicole, would it?
Well done, mate.
Slipped one in before the marriage.
I didn't slip one in. I'm not that kind of person.
Can't you see?
For me to do something like that, it's totally significant.
It has to be.
Wow. Yeah.
Well, it makes sense.
I mean, you marriage is shit.
Actually, you guys are perfect for each other.
You're bookends. It's no wonder the sex was great.
Ordinary, normal people are great at sex.
It's your big trump card. It's people like me who are hit-and-miss.
It's not about sex and it's never going to be.
So, oh, just stay out of it.
Ah. I mean it, Cleave. I mean it.
Does she make you happy?
Barney.
She needs to know, mate.
You paid her off, didn't you?
Handsomely.
But whatever you think of me...
..I don't rape women.
The person in question was someone I was having a fling with.
I broke up with her, she got angry.
I suppose I should have been more careful.
Excuse me if I don't believe you.
I've handed in my resignation.
Ah. For the best.
Let's put it down as an experiment that didn't pay off.
If you think you're going to get away with this,
you've got another thing coming.
Oh, I wouldn't threaten me.
I'm not sure you hold any of the picture cards as we speak.
Come on!
The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go back to bed.
Yep, yep, yep. Nearly there.
Cleaver. Yeah.
What are you thinking?
I - look, I'm just going to have a little chat with the bride.
What about? I'm not convinced this is such a good idea.
For God's sake, she's wearing white
and there are women carrying her train.
It's not the time for a little chat.
My best mate's happiness is hanging by a thread, alright?
He just needs a little help. This is the least I can do. Nicole!
I bloody told you not to interfere!
I'm doing this for you, mate.
No, you're not! You're not! You're not! OK?
Ah! Alright.
Alright? Alright, OK, OK. Calm down.
Oh! Oh, fuck! Idiot.
You are. No, you are.
Nicole!
Oh! I fucked up your life, mate. I know I did.
And I feel so terrible about it, but I can make it right.
I can fix it, alright?
Yeah? Oh! Fuck! Oh!
Oh, yeah. Oh!
Stop it!
Gah! You said that you loved her, mate.
You said she was the only thing that made sense. Nicole!
Stop! Shut up!
Shut up and listen to me, alright?
I made a mistake. It was just a root.
I realised I am that sort of person, OK?
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today
in this place to celebrate the marriage of Nicole and Bevan.
We're out for a quiet night here, boys, quiet night.
VIPs coming through.
Do me here.
You fucken snake in the grass! Oh!
Pfft. Oh.
What happened to Wednesday?
Mum, where are we going? Shh!
I fucken love you.