(People speak indistinctly)
Good morning. Good morning.
What are you doing. Eating breakfast.
That's not breakfast.
Where's Mum?
In the bathroom, crying.
Right. Why?
Didn't like the picture in the paper.
I think she looks really pretty.
(Knock on door)
Come on, unlock the bloody door.
No. I don't want to see you. I can't see you. Go away.
You have to see me. What the hell is this about?
Nothing happened.
Well, something bloody happened.
There's a photo of it, woman.
We just kissed, that's all.
I don't believe you. That was it.
OK, he... he felt my breast briefly once,
then we realised it was wrong.
(Door handle clicks)
Open the fuckin' door!
(Cries)
What the hell were you doing there in the first place?
Just... I felt so alone.
Oh, screw alone! Talk to me.
I can't.
I can't take any more humiliation, Barney.
How am I going to face anyone?
Oh, I'm not much interested in muckraking, Neil.
You know, you and I, we don't trade in gossip.
If David Potter chooses to knock off a good mate's wife, his business.
But what does hurt is missing...
Mum, where are we going? Shh!
..trusted member of my inner sanctum,
privy to all manner of private information.
This is miles away. You've got legs, haven't you?
Move. Quickly, go!
The sort of information that could jeopardise...
Mummy loves you very much.
..and the great people of this great State.
I dread to think what State secrets were traded in that hotel bed.
But, look, you know who I blame in all of this?
Me.
Yep, the buck must rest here.
I... I trust too much, I believe in giving people a fair go.
I want to hope that people can be better than they think they are.
Quite frankly, Neil, it hurts. I'm only human.
MAN: And not a bad quality to have, mate, in one of our pollies.
Ah, well, that's very nice of you to say that, Neil.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Reverend Ron Drury is,
as his stepbrother was before him, a prophet
imbued with the gift of healing.
Now, the complainants in this matter,
by their own admission, consented to being,
and I quoted, 'Rubbed with unguents and oils
and further consented to sexual intercourse
with the accused in the hope that they may be healed
of possession by the devil.'
Ladies and gentlemen, it was only much, much later,
after the complainants realised that the rashes
that they were suffering were not, in fact,
the devil's work, but rather the result of aggressive solvents
used in the Reverend Ron's giftware shop, where they were employed,
did these women think to cry foul rape.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, a charge of rape cannot be made
simply because one regrets consenting to sex.
You'd be locking up 90% of the population on that basis.
The complainants in this matter seek vengeance, ladies and gentlemen,
and vengeance never results in justice.
Vengeance results in misery.
Mr Greene, have you done the community any favours today
by getting Ron Drury off rape charges?
Polly Something-Or-Other, right,
on The Seven Days This Night, This Day, Today,
To, This Night Will Be The Same As Tomorrow Project?
Yes, one of those, but you haven't answered my question.
Ask me again.
Ron Drury has a history of abusing women and getting away with it.
No, he doesn't.
Reverend Ron Drury has a habit of treating sick women
who are seeking alternative therapies,
having been abandoned by the conservative medical establishment.
It's the AMA you want to be pointing your finger at.
What's your surname again?
So it's appropriate for Drury to continue practising his voodoo?
That's a hell of a surname.
Maybe we can make a deal.
Oh, yeah.
I don't really want to do this story
about you getting a serial rapist off.
Don't you now? No, I'd rather do a story on your little friend Melissa
and how she's coping after the death of Joshua Floyd.
You obviously haven't met Melissa.
Nobody who knows Melissa would describe her as 'little'.
So do we have a deal?
Oh, how I wish we had a deal.
Um, no, I don't think so.
Melissa's not doing any interviews.
It's a pity.
Yes, it's a pity.
I guess I'll see you on the telly, then.
I guess so.
It's, uh, Nesbitt, by the way. Polly Nesbitt.
Ah, well, I'll see you on the telly, Nesbitt.
Yes.
(Phone rings) Ah.
So, guess who managed to score two el primo tickets
to Mr Neil Diamond this evening.
You're kidding me.
You are fuckin' kidding me.
You sweet man, you!
Mmm! Oh, God!
The show's not till eight, so I was thinking
a really, really long breakfast in bed.
Oh, yeah.
Hey, Sweet, there's one more thing I need you to do first.
You name it, I'll do it.
Cleaver's missed another payment.
Right.
Come on, it's just business. Yeah, I know.
It's 200 grand. Yeah, I know.
Oh, don't be grumpy with Angel, Sweet.
It's just a little hard for me. You know, I owe him one.
I sometimes think if it wasn't for Cleaver,
you and I wouldn't be together.
Oh, don't say that! Never say that. We were always meant to be together.
It's a lot of money, you know.
I won't let him get away with it. I can't let him get away with it.
Yeah, I know.
So I was thinking maybe I could sub Cleaver out.
Sub him out?
Yeah, well, I've got this mate of a mate,
he's new in town, he's from the UK,
he's never met Cleave, he's got no history,
he's got no emotional involvement.
I'd be really, really grateful, Angel.
OK.
I will give Cleaver two more weeks, but I'm doing it for you, Sweet,
and not for him and if nothing comes in in that time,
you're gonna have to call your mate.
I fuckin' love you.
I fuckin' love you too.
(Both pant and laugh)
This is nothing in the scheme of things, mate.
I know it's nothing. We didn't do anything.
I believe you. There's no reason to drop your case against Greene.
The man has got away with every sort of abuse under the sun -
he has to pay.
I couldn't agree more. Weakness to let him off.
Oh, come on, mate, nut up!
He'll call me back into the box, he'll call Scarlet,
he'll eat us alive.
Dave, take him on.
After all, he's screwed her too. That's got to count for something.
I thought you said you believed me. Yeah, but I'm paid to.
I did not have sexual relations with that woman!
Oh, God!
David Potter and I did not have sex.
Oh, I'm sure you didn't.
That's just politics, Engels.
I didn't plan to drag you down, you just presented me
with this gold-embossed gift, so...
I have a family. I'm not rolling over. I will hit back.
(Tuts)
(Siren wails)
Hey. Hi.
There she is, the married woman.
Ah, Mrs Nicole Lee, at your service.
How was your honeymoon?
Oh, good, yeah. It was fantastic. You've been to Ubud, haven't you?
Mm-hmm. Lovely and romantic and...
Great. That is so good.
Big breakfasts every day and long walks.
Fantastic. Yeah, lovely, it truly was.
(Laughs)
So...
Yeah, I just wanted to sort of catch up
before we see each other in the office.
I didn't want there to be any tension.
Oh, God, no. Nor do I. No, I'd hate that.
So let's not have it.
Yeah, just being alone with Bevan again reminded me
of all the reasons I married him.
He doesn't know about us, does he? No, nup, no.
That was, yeah, I wasn't married then.
It'd be different now, of course. Of course.
Oh, but I, seriously, Barney, I want us to keep in touch
Oh, oh, we will. Yeah, as friends.
We will. We will. As really good friends.
Alright. I'm so happy that you're happy.
I really am. Happy, I'm happy.
Happy, happy, happy, happy. (Laughs)
(Phone beeps)
Happy, happy, happy.
You must be loving this.
I take my pleasure where I find it, Harry, sorry.
Shove it. You win!
I withdraw the action.
The whole thing?
You heard me. You deserve to burn, but...
There's, there's the small matter of my costs.
My time doesn't come cheap, you know, mate.
Everything about you comes cheap.
What does it say about David Potter
when he withdraws a libel charge against a man
who accused him of being, and I quote,
'A sadistic, cowardly, lying buffoon
whose contempt for common decency makes a mockery
of the position he represents.'
Our Shadow Attorney-General clearly thinks he is all of these things.
If that is true, Mr Potter must resign.
(Reporters talk over one another)
Cleaver Greene?
Oh, for God's sake, for the last time,
she's not giving any interviews, OK, and I'm not her fucking agent.
No, that would be me. My name's Gloria Beckford.
I've been trying to get in touch with Melissa,
but she's proving to be quite elusive.
I'd be grateful if you'd pass this on.
Hey. How was your day?
Um, I watched a documentary on cancer.
Great. Now, look, I thought we might head out and celebrate.
I've had a couple of little victories today.
(Phone rings)
I'm going to bed.
Oh, come on, it's not even seven o'clock!
I don't want to go out.
Come on, sweetheart, you can't hide away forever.
You go out, do whatever you like.
A couple of laughs, a couple of, you know, drinks,
you could have a little shower or something,
freshen up a bit, get glammed up.
It might turn out better than you think.
Come on, please? It's on me.
MAN: Rachel, over here, thanks. Over here, thanks, Rach.
MAN: Just one last one. MAN: Beautiful.
You can keep that change.
Melissa! Melissa! Cleaver, why here?
Here, here is good. Here's good, here's good.
Fine. Come on.
No, she's, we're after a quiet night here, boys, quiet night.
VIPs coming through.
Cowra corn-fed chicken with citrus foam and asparagus.
Where is the asparagus from? I'm sorry, sir.
Well, you've given me a postcode for the chook
as well as its pre-death eating habits.
You've done the same thing for the mussels, the oysters and the steak.
I know, for instance, that the cow lived happily in Gippsland,
where it ate grass, but there is absolutely nothing in here
about the formative years of the asparagus.
Could you please ask the chef? He'll have the chicken.
I don't know anything about Cowra,
except it's where they kept the Japs during the Second World War.
I hope my bird fared better.
They've taken a thousand shots of me.
What are they expecting me to do?
MAN: Oh! (Woman laughs)
MAN: What's going on? Come on. No, no, no.
Have you thought any more about the second book?
Why do you ask?
Well, I just, I think it could be
an important part of the healing process.
I wanted to support you in that.
I mean, you're gonna need a legal consultant, aren't you?
I presume I'm going to be in the second book.
Actually, if you think about it,
it's like, you know, there's more than one perspective
on the story, isn't there?
It doesn't just have to be about you.
You know, Josh touched both of our lives, didn't he?
Just a thought.
Um, that arrived.
Some woman...
Ah...
Fried green tomato ice-cream.
Pumpkin and chive sorbet - where are they going with these sorbets?
Avocado and nashi pear gelato.
Pumpkin...
Oh! Pfft.
Good. Good. Good.
So that's good.
Ah.
(Phone rings)
Sister, I was just about to call you.
I've been trying to reach you since yesterday, Cleave.
Oh, this bloody phone.
Dad's died, Cleave.
Right.
I'm sorry, Cleave. OK.
So, um, it'll be at Dad's church. You know?
OK.
Um, the wake will be at Jane's.
Good.
Could I get another bottle?
(Bird squawks)
Ah!
Oh! Pfft!
Ah!
What happened to Wednesday?
What happened to Wednesday? Fuck!
Miss, it's me. I'm just ringing to apologise.
I'm sorry I was insensitive to your needs.
Good. Um, listen, I could, uh, I could really do with a lift.
Um, and could you bring a suit?
(Cleaver vomits)
Your dress is caught up.
He prided himself on being a decent man
who worked daily to put food on the table
and to teach his children the worth of human values.
Love of family always came first.
It gave his life meaning and what a life he gave them.
Malaysia, Singapore, where our intrepid explorer
set up a business in the copha trade
before returning here with his lovely wife, Kate,
and the children in 1979.
With the money he made there, he set up a travel agency,
where his attention to detail...
I thought your dad had a hardware store.
Wrong funeral.
The Nankervises have always had a reputation
for being an intrepid bunch.
Keith and Kate took the kids - Bridie, Wally and Joshua...
WOMAN: So, anyway, yeah...
Excuse me. Thank you.
Here you go, ladies. One each. Thank you very much.
Excuse me.
Take one of these. Thank you.
Can I give you one of these? Give one of these a read.
Sorry, what is this?
It's a factual account of the true circumstances
about David Potter and myself.
I need you to know what's been said in the tabloids and on the radio
about certain misinterpreted events is not accurate.
My details are included if you have any queries.
OK, thank you. Hurry, darling, let's go. Come on.
(Phone beeps)
You didn't even know my old man.
Oh, I'm not crying about him, it's about Keith Nankervis.
His life had such meaning.
Oh, and every corner was occupied by people
he'd spent a lifetime avoiding.
Oh, Aunty Eadie. Sid.
My sister, Jane.
So, not close, then? Where were you?
Uh... Hi, Dad.
Mate, how are you?
So, what was so pressing you felt you could miss
your own father's funeral, for Christ's sake?
We decided to go to Keith Nankervis's instead.
The travel agent? Why the hell...? He seemed like a wonderful man.
This is Melissa. I know who you are.
Yes, you told me St Thomas's, his old church.
He hasn't stepped foot inside St Thomas's
since Father Bart and the youth camp.
Do you honestly think I wanted to go to fuckin' Keith Nankervis's funeral?
Do you think I could feel any more gutted than I do?
His granddaughter read a poem that she wrote herself,
Who Will Be In The Armchair At Christmas?
You fuckin' snake in the grass.
Oh! Aunt Jane, it's a funeral!
Just stay out of this, kid. It's between me and him.
I just wanted to say to you that I will never
speak to you again.
Finally, an upside.
He went to the wrong church. Oh, bullshit!
We all know why he didn't come. Oh, yes, why was that, Jane?
Denlion Holdings. Denlion Holdings?
What, is it a West Indian cricketer?
You were too gutless to do it yourself,
so you got somebody else to do your dirty work for you.
What is the mad woman talking about?
You're saying you know nothing
about Dad selling his shares two months before he died?
When you learnt you were getting nothing!
I have no idea what you're on about.
Dad sold everything to this company called Denlion
when he was in care.
They gave him less than a third of the value,
not even enough to pay off the mortgage.
Why would he do that?
Apparently this guy convinced him the world was about to collapse
and if he wanted to leave Jane and me anything,
then he had to sell it off.
He knows! He's bluffing! I don't bloody know.
I don't, I don't think he does.
When he lies he taps the fingers on his left hand.
MISSY: And leans to one side. Yeah, his left. He's not lying.
So you really weren't behind this, then?
Do you honestly think I am that bad?
Sorry, Cleave.
Everyone's just a little bit emotional, you know?
Would some cake help the jaw?
No, some cake wouldn't help.
How was the funeral?
Oh, Don spoke, at length.
I think Keith Nankervis's funeral might have been the wiser choice.
Is, um, is Melissa OK?
She's not exactly looking in top form.
I'm sensitive to her needs. That's what I was afraid of.
I'm sorry about your dad.
He was a lovely man.
Hey. See you, Doc.
That's not it, Dad.
What's not what, mate?
There is a life beyond death.
Yeah, it's called becoming a judge.
Come to a prayer night with me, please.
Oh, mate.
You always said not to judge something without trying it first.
That was just drugs, alright?
In all other matters, I'm very much a judge-early-and-often kind of a guy.
See ya. See ya.
Pull over. Just pull over.
What are you doing to me, comrade?
You must be the only man alive who could lose
a defamation case against Cleaver Greene.
Withdrew, not lost.
First whiff of trouble, you pop on a skirt and play dead.
What more do you want me to do? I've denied it, she's denied it.
Will you please stop denying it?!
We've won focus groups. You're onto a good thing.
Women are taking notice of you, men are jealous - the chick is hot!
For a moment, you looked like you might be a player.
I would have been crucified in court. I am a lawyer.
So am I! So's everyone.
Just go out there and own it or go to the back benches.
And how are you going to manage that, Jack?
We don't have the numbers to field a cricket team.
Who are you gonna promote, Allsop?
One more cock up like this and I'm giving you Health.
No! Not even in jest!
Lane Hole.
That's got to be his porn name, hasn't it?
This is the bloke who cleaned my old man out.
What do you think about us getting married and having a child?
Pardon?
Seeing the Nankervis family today, how much they loved him,
how rich his life was because of family.
Yeah, well, you also met my family today.
You wouldn't describe that as rich.
We die. That's what struck me today.
Without loved ones, it's all bullshit, Cleave.
Fucking Keith Nankervis.
(Laughs) Autumn leaves, hey?
Still, wouldn't be any kind of year without them
brightening our days.
I guess not.
A layer of scraps, leaves, some fertiliser,
seaweed - perfect compost!
Speaking of which, I'm looking for a Lane Hole.
A lot of people are doing that. He lives above me in No.2
You have yourself a terrific day.
(Laughs)
I take it you are the delightfully named Lane Hole.
Yes.
I believe you saw fit to defraud my father, Errol Greene,
of his share portfolio.
Your father signed the papers.
Yeah, while he was in care and for a third of what they were worth.
What sort of pond scum are you?
He was of sound mind.
Listen, listen, mate, let me be crystal clear about this.
I am a criminal barrister of considerable standing.
I win the unwinnables.
If you think you can cheat my family and walk away untouched,
you are seriously fuckin' deluded.
Would you excuse me, please?
You have unleashed a force of nature here, pal.
If you don't make immediate recompense,
I will fuckin' crucify you in court.
OK.
So you'll pay back the money?
OK.
OK, what? OK, see you in court.
Oh, OK, then. You bet you will.
Who's going to be the best guy for this?
Treadwell? Morrison? Eddington?
No, mate, it's got to be Dominic Rose.
Dominic Rose? Is he back from the UK? Yeah, almost a year now.
Dominic Rose - Jesus, Barnyard!
Some excruciatingly boring people are almost interesting for being that,
but Dominic Rose is like the,
he's like the distilled essence of boredom.
He's tedium in its purest form. Yeah, you told him that once.
Shit, did I?
Yeah, at a bar-and-bench party about 15 years ago.
Oh, fuck. Oh, yeah.
Oh, well, he wouldn't remember that.
Listen, I have got to beat this Hole prick.
Can you dig up whatever you can find on the little worm, please?
Of course, Cleave. I've got nothing else to do with my time.
Come on, mate.
Send Dominic a decent bottle of plonk, hmm?
That's the way to his heart.
Hey. Nicole!
Hey, you didn't text me back.
Yeah, just got caught up. Sorry.
Alright, no problem, friend.
We are friends, right?
We are, I promise.
I've just been flat out.
Sure. You know. I'll see you.
Right, yeah. See you. Nicole!
I need you to get in touch with The 7:30 Evening Tomorrow Project.
What? What are you talking about?
The current affairs show.
And hook me up a little chat with the hot one, Polly something.
Not the sanctimonious drone with the eyebrows.
What am I, your pimp?
(People speak indistinctly)
WOMAN: Thank you for that.
WOMAN: Perfect. You've got my number?
Dominic Rose!
As I live and breathe. How bloody wonderful to see you.
Hello, Cleaver.
How long has it been, mate?
Bar-and-bench Christmas party, about 15 years ago.
That's too long, too long.
You told me I was the San Andreas Fault line of boredom -
any less interesting and you'd disappear into a coma.
Oh, mate. Oh, mate.
I'm so sorry about that.
I, medication, lashing out, bleak period.
I don't know how many close friends I hurt through that time.
How can I, how can I make it right?
Goodbye, Cleaver.
It's actually an incredible coincidence,
'cause I was just thinking about you the other day.
Oh, really? Yeah.
I've got a mate who gave me a bottle of '71 Grange for my birthday.
The '71, you say?
Yeah, and I was thinking, 'Who on earth do I know
who, who would really appreciate a wine like this?'
and I thought of you.
(Knocks on door)
Ah, there you are.
Dominic. It's so lovely of you to have me.
Come in, come in.
Oh, no! Oh!
I grabbed the wrong bottle.
Miriam.
Cleaver, how lovely to see you. He didn't bring it.
Told you.
The trouble with a lot of your more erotic women's underwear
is it doesn't allow for the male hip - it's constantly sagging.
For some time now I have been
buying my women's underwear online from France.
Oh! Shall I be mother?
Yes, darling.
It's just a simple chateaubriand,
but the sauce is an authentic Napoleonic recipe.
Ah.
The meat Tenterfield, grass-fed...
Ah, Tenterfield, grass.
..and the tiniest hint of Armagnac in the butter.
Mmm. No, it looks like a vision of heaven, mate.
Uh, I came across a case the other day that would interest you.
It's this, uh, it's this Lance, what, oh, no, wait, Lane Hole.
I'm familiar with him.
Makes a big living dicing up the elderly and infirm.
Ah. Sails close, but technically never breaks the law.
Really? Hmm.
ASIC have prosecuted him half a dozen times
under 183C, but failed every time.
183C Potato?
Interesting.
Oh! Shit! Oh, shit!
God, it's a Janet Brown original!
Get a cloth! Get a cloth! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, mate.
We need some salt! I know, salt.
Not salt. You'll stain it, it's silk.
Polly Nesbitt's in your office. Who?
You know, that hack reporter you fancy.
Oh, great. Uh, can you get me a copy of section 183C
of the Corporations Act, please.
How do I look?
Uh, like someone who's spent their life in rebab.
Tim. I know you think I have a diverse practice, mate,
but I cannot get over to the Congo again.
And I cannot keep putting out these political bushfires for you, mate.
Let, let me just deal with Burma first, OK,
and then I'll try and come over and join you.
Alright, see ya.
Polly, how are you?
The Congo, huh?
Yep. Been there?
Yeah, I was Africa Correspondent with CNN for two years.
Where do you stay when you're in Kinshasa?
Kinshasa Hilton.
I'm very time poor, Mr Greene,
so is this a laughable attempt at seduction
or are you prepared to make a deal?
Well, that's actually quite a complex question.
I wouldn't have thought so. Is Melissa prepared to go on camera?
She might be, but she's a very skittish sort of a person
and you need to win her trust.
And... and how do I do that?
Well, the thing is, Melissa was very fond of my father.
Mr Hole, if you have nothing to hide,
then why can't you answer a couple of simple questions?
Did you try and coerce a dying man into giving over
his life savings just weeks before his death?
Mr Hole, why won't you answer?
Mr Hole. Oh!
Fuck! Ah, my foot!
You right? Shit.
When my Ken died, this man came and I signed some document.
Well, I didn't know what I was doing!
I lost my home and everything that Ken and me
had worked so hard for.
I have devoted my life to seeking justice.
Here, the Congo, it doesn't matter. (Scoffs)
Injustice, wherever it happens, is unacceptable to me.
Oh, I'm gonna throw up! When the hell did he ever go to Africa?
I have done this to the detriment of my own career
and sometimes, sadly, to the detriment of my own family.
Dad's saving the world again.
Oh, shit, he's not, is he?
..injustice in my own home.
My father prided himself on being an ordinary, decent man
who worked daily to put food on the table for us kids
and to teach us the worth of human values.
You stole that straight from Keith Nankervis's funeral.
No! Yes, you did.
Someone like Lane Hole must not be allowed to sully it.
The question is - can Cleaver Greene,
a man known for defending lost causes,
find justice for his family?
Mahatma Gandhi said once, 'The human voice can never reach the distance
that is covered by the still, small voice of conscience.'
Well, there sits a man who has no such small voice.
His is a loud blare of deceit and duplicity.
Lane Hole has faced no fewer than 14 similar charges.
Prior to my father, he succeeded in conning
some 23 pensioners and invalids out of their income
and out of their family homes.
He robbed my father on his deathbed
of a lifetime of diligent saving and wise investment.
But I speak today not only on behalf of my family,
but on behalf of all those people who have been injured
by this cruel and indifferent man.
It is time to put an end to Lane Hole's relentless pursuit
of the weak and the vulnerable.
Mr Hole?
Your Honour, this matter falls within the provisions
of Section 183C of the relevant legislation.
Yes. Mr Greene.
Your Honour, Section 183C of the Act clearly provides for remedies
for those who have been injured by such malfeasance or neglect.
Mr Greene, are you seriously suggesting
that Section 183C contemplates remedy?
Your Honour, I am holding the Act as we speak.
Mr Greene, you appear to be holding the Corporations Act.
Indeed, I am, Your Honour.
The Section 183C to which Mr Hole refers
is the Commercial and Financial Trading
Miscellaneous Provisions Act of 1998.
And I am aware of that, Your Honour, but in a broader context...
There is no broader context, Mr Greene.
The High Court has made it abundantly clear.
Your Honour, this is a case where justice itself is on trial.
No, the only thing on trial here is whether 183C applies, and it does.
Your Honour, I have witnesses, I have people whose lives
have been destroyed.
You may well have those, but you don't have 183C.
Anything else before I find for the defendant
and award costs against you, Mr Greene?
No.
I could have done that.
And don't even think of hitting us up for costs.
Lily.
That was a pretty short crusade, in all.
It must have been all that time you spent in the Congo.
But I did love the Gandhi.
Do me here.
Someone will come. Good.
Oh!
Justin!
Jesus Christ! You slut.
You bloody little whore! Bastard! Bitch!
Get out, Justin. What?
Is this piece of shit gonna make me?
Listen... Oh, it's Justin What's-A-Name from your show.
Don't make me call the police.
You broke my heart, Poll.
You just tore it from my chest and you trampled on it.
Please! Please! I beg you, come back.
No, no, no, no. Come on, mate.
Oh, shit!
Shit! It's my favourite.
Don't ask.
We were sort of engaged and I had this fling with his best friend.
You know how it is.
Ah. But he will not move on.
I need a drink.
I have met some walking sink hair in my time, but Lane Hole...
Oh, boohoo.
The man who defends rapists and cannibals now cries foul.
There's a moral dimension to everything, you know?
There's no such thing as morality, only personal choice.
Read Sartre and then read Camus.
Oh, fuck Camus!
The world is full of creeps. Who are you gonna do?
Are you gonna knock off all the Lane Holes in the world?
Yes, I might just do that.
If you get rid of Lane Hole, then you and me, we're out of work.
Lane Holes are our lifeblood.
Well, I have to find a way of dealing with this particular Lane Hole.
I just haven't figured out how yet.
I've been to the court of public opinion,
I've been to the court of Section 183C.
I know the law is an ass.
So just plug him. You know anyone?
Plug him? Hmm.
Oh, are you Bogart now?
It's Lauren Bacall, actually, Big Sleep.
Nice reference.
Oh, what the hell?
You owe me, Col.
If it wasn't for me... Go home to bloody bed, Cleave.
Listen, Col... you're happy, right? Yes.
Yes? Yes! State of bliss? Pigs in shit?
Alright, well, this is the name of the guy
who stole my father's money, alright?
Lane Hole.
That's his name, number, address, everything you need to know.
You sort him out and all of our problems will go away.
What, you want me to whack this guy? No, no!
Not whack. Do not whack under any circumstances.
Just, you know, ruffle his feathers a little bit,
give it a little pinch on the arse.
Let him know that nobody steals from me,
except for my secretary...
KIRSTY: Collie Wobbles, who the fuck is it?
..but I know all about that.
Mate, he stole from my father, alright?
OK, Cleave. Do you get it? Yeah.
You tell Lane Hole from me, mate,
that Cleaver Greene is every bit as good as Keith Nankervis,
even if my dad never thought so.
I take it you've not read this.
No.
Mrs Dunstan said Adam read it out for show-and-tell.
Sorry I'm late.
I'm just trying to set the record straight.
(Bell rings)
You should see the way that they look at me.
The way who looks at you. The mothers at the gate.
Friends of yours, are they?
No, not really.
Then why on earth do you care what they think?
(Siren wails)
Oh! Fuck!
Oh!
Col, if you're there, pick up.
Come on, pick up.
(Laughs and moans)
I've got a vague memory of... look, just forget what I asked for, OK?
Don't touch Lane Hole, alright? (Kirsty laughs)
It was the booze talking.
I want nothing done to him.
(Gasps) Call off your dogs.
I was barking, yes? (Laughs) Ooh!
Oh.
I crossed the line, almost, last night.
For one horrible, insane moment, I lost control of my life.
You don't honestly think there's only been one moment, do you?
I bought revenge. Can you believe it?
God, thank God I saw reason.
You mean you sobered up?
The fact I was pissed doesn't make it intrinsically wrong.
I've often been pissed and made excellent choices.
Again, another dazzling moment of self-awareness.
Christ, it's all so tenuous, isn't it?
Fuzz really wants you to go with him to a prayer meeting.
They're singing Christian socialists. I'd rather have a tetanus shot.
Why do I have to go?
Because, Cleaver, this is not my department, OK?
This is father-son stuff and...
What do you mean, father-son stuff?
It's about sex. What do you mean, it's about sex?
She's a virgin! She won't have sex with him until they're married.
Well, that's not gonna happen any time soon.
Of course it is! That's her power.
Have you seen her pert little bottom?
Mmm. Hmm? Can you imagine how frustrated he is?
Mmm. Ask me how old her parents are.
How old are...? 36 years old.
Much younger and we could have had them.
They got married at 18. That's what faith does to people.
They marry young because they're sex-starved.
Just show him that you have an open mind and he'll listen to you.
Alright, OK, I'll, I'll go. OK.
I'll invoke Satan's name, do a 360 head spin.
Thank you.
How are things with Roger?
(Laughs) Pretty good.
(Mimics) 'Oh, pretty good.'
How's Missy doing?
Missy wants to get married.
To you? Yeah.
Oh, now I think she needs to be hospitalised.
WOMAN: Did you read that flyer?
Yes. She's coming now.
(All laugh)
How... embarrassing. Oh, here she comes.
Don't mind me. I don't mean to interrupt.
Bronwyn was just telling us that she and Malcolm
have bought a house at Pearl Beach.
Lovely. Congratulations.
Yes, well, it's always been a bit of a dream.
Of course, the next nine months are gonna be a nightmare.
Will it? How so?
We're doing a bit of a reno because it's just a shack right now.
It doesn't even have internet.
We're going to have to furnish and decorate
and Malcolm's got his heart set on Hockneys.
I don't know what that's about, for a beach house.
We had the most awful fight about it last night.
You poor thing. Yeah, you poor thing.
That sounds like a real nightmare.
A real fucking nightmare.
Have you all got beach houses?
This is like a cancer cluster.
I never realised how lucky my family was
to be spared a nightmare like that.
Oh, my grandmother was in Belsen for a couple of months
when she was a girl - sans Hockneys, by the way.
Are you quite done, Scarlet?
You know, I think I am.
Residents of Sydney's southern suburbs are reeling
with the brutal murder of a pensioner.
Albert Platt had lived among these shady trees
and streets for 50 years until a senseless act of violence
brought his life to an end.
What an angry and frightened community wants to know
is what sort of monster is out there... Oh, Jesus.
Oh, no. What?
Oh, please tell me it's a coincidence.
WOMAN: A police spokesman said they were pursuing...
Tell me you got my message.
COL: What message?
Ah, right, the one cancelling the hit.
It was never a hit, it was a pinch, remember?
Yeah, yeah, I got the message.
So you didn't go? Nup.
Oh, thank God! Oh, thank God!
I subbed it out. You what?
I was, you know, busy, so I subbed it out.
You su... you subbed what out?
You mean you told somebody else to visit Lane Hole?
Mate, we sub out of a lot of work in our game.
Is... is there any, any possibility
that your friend may have visited the wrong friend?
Dunno. I've never had him visit friends before.
Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus. Oh, my God.
Oh... Mate, why so stressed?
Apart from the fact that a lovely old leaf-raking man
living in the flat below our friend is dead,
you mean, ignoring that, Col,
I'm a little concerned that I was filmed on national television
threatening the man who lives in the flat above him.
Do you understand?
And I'm a little worried that your work experience pal
might be so fuckin' thick that he went to the wrong flat!
Oh, shit.
(Knock on door)
Oh... Is Mr Greene in?
Yes.
Mr Greene, I'm so sorry.
It was a breakdown in communication -
partly me, partly him.
Who are you?
I'm a friend of Col and Kirsty's, you know?
Please tell me what I think happened didn't happen.
It won't happen again, you have my absolute assurance on that.
Can I ask you not to make a big deal of this?
What?
I'm trying to set meself up in a new town,
make the right connections.
A mistake like this could set me right back,
so what's say no charge and we'll forget it?
(Laughs) No charge!
(Phone rings)
No charge!
(Laughs)
Oh, Jesus Christ!
It's the rapture.
When I was, like, 14, I was a real mess, just like you
and I fought Jesus all the way - I mean, I wouldn't let him in.
Here was this guy who'd lived this sinless life full of love
and, you know, he died on a cross for us and I just thought,
'How do I compete with that?' you know?
But then he came and he spoke into my heart,
'I forgive you everything, Tara.
Leave your sins behind and come and walk with me.'
And I fell to my knees and I said, 'I am yours, Lord.
Take me to you.'
And I was reborn.
MAN: Praise the Lord! You right, Dad?
Oh, great.
(Laughs) MAN: I love you, Jesus.
# Can you hear us? # Can you hear us?
# Can you feel Him? # I can feel Him
# Can you fe-e-e-e-el Him?
# Jesus, we are here tonight
# Can you feel Him...? # Oh, Jesus.
Oh! Jesus! Oh! Dad!
Oh, Jesus! Dad, stop making a dick of yourself.
Oh, God, God! Dad!
(Laughs)
Cleaver Greene, we're here to arrest you on a charge of manslaughter.
Oh, Jesus! Oh!
# Yes, I can feel Him Yes, I can feel Him
# Yes, I fe-e-e-el
# Jesus, we are here tonight... #
Old mate of yours, apparently, Greene. Oh, fuck!
Am I hearing wedding bells anytime soon?
Oh!
Will you listen to me, Stevie?
Greene's all bark. The story's got no legs.
Fuzz.
What the hell? I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
Look, are you crazy? I had to see you.
You're gonna fuckin' die, bitch, and I'm gonna fuckin' bury you!
Your Honour, this is outrageous!
Mr Greene, I cannot allow this line of question to proceed.
I'll move on, Your Honour.