Dead in a Week: Or Your Money Back (2018) - full transcript
After his ninth unsuccessful attempt on his own life, a young man outsources his suicide to an ageing assassin. "If you're serious about ending it, you need professional help"
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I could
push you, if you want.
Jesus Fuck!
You
should be careful.
You could kill yourself.
Can I watch?
You can't stop me.
No I wouldn't try.
Can I ask why you're doing this?
I mean jumping off a bridge?
Look, I
don't mean to be rude,
but could you, you know...
Oh, sure, sure.
Yes, yes.
Are you going to be long?
Duh!
You've ruined the mood.
I'm here to help you.
You can help
me by leaving me alone.
Sure?
I could make this much easier.
No?
Well, it's your death.
Here, I've got a card.
There you are.
If you need any help.
Look, I appreciate
what you're trying to do,
but
I'm past help.
Yes, well,
good luck.
(dramatic orchestral
music rising
Hell.
And you
didn't look down?
I had my eyes shut.
In a way
you're very unlucky.
And what prompted this time?
Must be something.
You can tell me.
Our lives are
a futile struggle
to make sense of the senseless.
Oh William.
You can see my predicament.
One of my lifeguards
is suicidal.
That's hardly reassuring.
I'm really trying to
understand William-
you're not the only one
with problems you know.
Yeah, the world is shit.
But if you stare
all day at the shit
then there's no wonder
you can only see shit.
The trick is to find something
that makes it appear bearable.
You've got the
gun in your mouth,
your finger on the
trigger but you think,
"I've never eaten a Twix."
What?
It's about finding something
to distract you from
the terrible reality.
Like this job.
I work in a leisure center.
You're a lifeguard!
What could be more important
than saving people's lives?
But when did I
last save someone?
Last year.
Mrs Richards.
She was in the shallow end.
She was in distress.
She could put her feet down.
But she didn't.
She was panicking
and you saved her.
That's the problem, William.
Besides your
questionable attitude,
you need to be here!
I don't think you're
suited to this profession.
We have to let you go.
Think of this as a good thing.
Now you can concentrate
on your writing.
Thank you for calling
NRG gas and electrical supplies.
If you've been disconnected
due to an unpaid bill,
please press one.
Yes, I was away.
No I was hoping it
would be permanent.
No I wasn't trying...
Mr O'Neil?
Mr O'Neil?
I said 11 o'clock.
It is now seven minutes past.
Yes.
Sorry.
You said we could
discuss some options...
I said we should meet at 11.
I dare say it's
that casual attitude
to arrangements that has led
to your current predicament.
Tea?
Sorry.
Yes, thank you.
Sorry, you're not
what I imagined.
Meet many assassins do you?
It's just I never
pictured a polo neck.
What's wrong with a polo neck?
My wife got it for me.
What should I be wearing?
I don't know.
A cardigan?
No!
Hitmen don't wear cardigans!
Well I'm so sorry I'm not
living up to your expectations.
Are you sure
you're up to this?
Let me tell you something.
I've killed more people
than you've had hot baths.
I'm the angel of death.
I'm Abbadon the destroyer.
I'm a one man euthanasia clinic.
Only with me you don't
have to go to Switzerland.
Ever been to Switzerland?
No.
And now you never will.
If you're serious.
I'm serious.
How serious?
Serious enough to
phone an assassin.
That serious enough?
How do I know you
are really serious
and not just saying
you're really serious?
When we met, on the bridge,
that wasn't my first time.
Go on.
That was the seventh.
Tenth if you count
the cries for help.
I tried hanging,
gassing,
booze and pills,
electrocution.
Oh, and I waked
into a main road.
How did
you survive that?
I was
hit by an ambulance.
You couldn't be
in better hands.
Great.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
You really do need me.
I started to worry
that I might be immortal.
I've never met
anyone I couldn't kill.
Actually I wrote
a book on the topic.
My Many Deaths.
It's unpublished.
Okay, so how do you
want this to happen?
You're not going to
garotte me are you?
I don't want to be garotted.
What makes you think that?
I'm getting a strong
feeling of garotting.
Is it the polo neck?
It's not helping.
No garotting.
You have my word.
So, what are my options?
Here, look, I've
got a brochure.
So, you just hang
around bridges,
trying to find clients?
Bridges, cliffs,
tall buildings.
Usual places.
Killing yourself is a lot
harder than people think.
Tell me about it.
There's not much work
for a conventional hitman
these days.
All the Eastern Europeans
taking our jobs.
But I had to meet
my quota somehow.
So, you came along just at
the right time, as it happens.
What about this one?
Ah, the hero's death.
This would be perfect.
Killed saving the life of
a child, a beautiful nurse
crying over my bloodied body,
a small crowd gathered.
Maybe they're clapping?
Do you know a beautiful nurse?
No.
Do you have access to a child?
No.
Well I'm not
saying I can't do it,
but there's a lot
of admin involved.
And it's not cheap.
What's your budget?
Well, I've got
around two grand.
Two thousand?
I wouldn't reverse over you in
a Ford Fiesta for that money.
Well what can you do?
Quick and painless.
Right.
And even then I'm
doing you a deal.
For two grand, it's
usually quick but painful.
How?
Well, I'd shoot you.
From a distance.
One shot.
You'd never see it coming.
Okay.
Deal.
Excellent.
Here we go.
Standard contract.
Name?
William Morrison.
Address?
Flat three, 27 Drake St.
Reason for wanting death?
Why do you want to die?
Is it terminal illness?
Money problems?
Do you ever wonder
what's the point?
Frequently.
What's the point of me?
Why am I here?
What am I contributing?
I think about that all the time.
Over and over and over.
And I want to
switch my brain off,
but it builds until
it becomes unbearable.
It's like my brain is on fire,
like it's burning
from the inside.
And I want it to
stop, to feel nothing.
I've never talked to
anyone about this.
We're already dying.
Just very slowly.
Life's one long terminal il...
Yeah, yeah, look
it's a very small box.
I'll write cancer.
Okay.
All right, sign here.
Excellent.
Well, congratulations.
You've just signed
your own death warrant.
When will it happen?
Oh, anytime within a week
of the money
clearing our account.
All the money up front?
Well we can't get
it afterwards, can we?
But how do I know
this isn't a scam?
Do you have any references?
I'll give you a list
of graves you can visit.
You pay the money
into an escrow account
run by the British
Guild of Assassins.
The money isn't transferred
to me until after your death.
And if you're not
dead within a week,
you'll get your money back.
The Guild of Assassins?
Never heard of it.
We don't advertise.
And the word of
mouth is limited.
What's it like, a union?
We're not bus drivers.
It's a co-operative bound
by a strict code of conduct.
An assassin is not
just a man with a gun.
We're not murderers.
We're professionals.
And what do I do?
Do what you normally do.
Just don't hide in a
cupboard for the week.
I don't mind, I'll
kill you anyway,
but you'll regret it.
Okay.
Right.
You seem like a decent man.
I'm very happy to kill you.
I'm very happy to die.
Hello?
Yes, it's Leslie.
Hello, Les.
Hi Wendy.
I need to register
this contract.
Look at that!
Well done you!
Just in time.
Those assisted suicides
were a great idea.
He's just needs to
transfer the money.
He seemed keen.
Depressed was he?
He's another writer.
Unpublished.
That's the trouble
with some people.
They think too much.
Is Harvey in?
They're all at the conference.
Didn't you get the newsletter?
No.
It's today and tomorrow.
They're staying at
a hotel in Egham.
Here's the schedule.
Mmmm.
Buffet lunch.
So have you got the
Ruger Precision?
No, Leslie I'm sorry.
It's out at the moment.
We've got plenty of handguns?
Glock 17?
Let me just get that for you.
Ammunition is in the case.
Can you have it
back by Thursday?
Yeah, yeah.
Have you still
got the Browning?
No, no, I brought
that back last week.
It's saying it's still out.
Where is it then?
Les?
Did you get the Worcester sauce?
Oh, Leslie!
Well, I'll go now.
No, no, it's not essential.
Look, I'm sorry.
Just be a bit bland.
Well I will go.
No, you're home now.
Don't worry.
I'll add some Bovril.
Hello boys.
How are you today?
What's wrong with you?
You all right?
I thought we could
have it on trays.
It's
hard to move quickly
when you only eat plants
It's a three-toed sloth
The sloth hangs from
branches, eating plants
Bland?
Delicious.
I don't know how I'm
going to finish this
in time for the
Southern Counties.
What I was thinking?
You'll get it done.
Sloths are not
exactly enthusiastic eaters,
but meals takes up a sizeable
proportion of the day,
it's a constant cycle.
Yep.
Bland.
My life was long enough
and full of distress.
Unlike my death,
which was quick and painless.
The time is 8:19
and now a summary of
this morning's news.
This one goes the
whole way round.
120 nights.
Imagine,
wouldn't that be incredible?
There's places here I've
never even heard of.
Nuku'Alofa.
Nuku'Alofa.
It's in Tonga.
And they've got an offer
on if you book early.
Listen love, about that...
Oh Les, you said this year.
You said that you were
going to retire this year
and we could go
'round the world.
No, I said I'd
think about retiring
and I have thought about
it and I've decided
that I'm not ready.
Don't worry, the world will
still be there next year.
But will we, Leslie?
You should be enjoying life,
not working yourself
into an early grave.
I love my work.
And what about Harvey?
I thought he wanted to give
more work to the youngsters?
He can do what he likes.
I've already fulfilled
his stupid quota.
You have?
Yes.
The money just needs to be
transferred, that's all.
At least you can
be happy for me?
Budgies can fly
at over 90 kilometers per hour,
and cover huge territories,
Leslie O'Neil.
Mr O'Neil?
Yeah.
It's William Morrison.
I've transferred the money.
But I have a few things
I want to do first,
so I was wondering if you
could give me a rough idea
in terms of timescale.
William, this
isn't a good time.
I'm at work.
What?
Right now?
What, you're going to
kill someone right now?
Wait, it's not me, is it?
No, it isn't you.
Oh.
Bye, William.
Book idea.
An assassin who only kills
people who want to die.
I was hoping it would be you.
Have a nice death.
He
holds death in his hand
and delivers it with the
precision of a surgeon.
I'm not quite dead.
Oh my god!
I'm so sorry, Mrs Rehmann.
I'll have another go.
Benevolently
shuffling lesser beings
off their mortal coil.
Oh, that's very good Penny.
Oh, thank you, Clive.
It will be if I
can get it right.
- A
- hard-drinking enigma.
Single malt his only companion.
A man of action
and unique skills.
Oh Les, you
didn't have anything else?
He lies in wait,
ready to pounce.
Stalking his prey with
a ruthless efficiency.
A master of stealth.
Do you want this?
You don't want it?
- A
- connoisseur of concealment.
Moving in the shadows, he
sees all, but is never seen.
The grim reaper.
Abbadon the destroyer.
To look at him is to look
into the face of death.
A lone wolf.
Taciturn.
What the hell are you doing?
I've only been gone
about five minutes.
No, no.
Sorry, Sir.
It's already in the system.
Oh to hell with you
and your stupid hat and
your stupid scooter!
Unknowable.
He hasn't chosen this life.
It has chosen him.
Hello?
Oh, is this
William Morrison?
Yeah.
Oh, thank god.
You're not dead.
I'm working on it.
Well, that's great.
I thought I might be too late.
Sorry, who are you?
My name is Ellie Adams and
I work at Steeden & Sons.
The publishers?
Yeah, I want to
talk to you about your book.
What about it?
I read it.
Really?
Yeah.
The whole thing?
Yeah.
You're pretty fucked up.
No offense.
None taken.
I want to set
up a meeting with my boss.
How's next week?
No!
No, I can't, um,
anything sooner?
Okay.
Actually something just
canceled tomorrow lunchtime.
How's that?
Yeah.
I should be able to make it.
Perfect.
Do you know Fantacci's?
Yep.
One o'clock?
Okay.
Great.
Just please don't kill
yourself in the meantime.
Or if you do, can
you let me know
and I'll cancel the table?
Thanks!
Morning.
Sorry, I was
having a sandwich.
I just wanted to ask a favor.
You're not having
second thoughts, are you?
No, no, not at all.
I just wondered if
we could postpone?
Postpone?
Yes.
I had a call from a publisher's
and they're
interested in my book.
They wanted to meet me next
week, but I said absolutely not
So we're having lunch at
one tomorrow at Fantacci's.
Do you know it?
But you still want to die?
Absolutely.
Because we have a contract.
You can plead all you
like, lots of people do,
but it's non-refundable.
You did read the small print?
You're only alive because
I haven't killed you yet.
It will be a temporary hiatus.
It would mean a lot to me.
Okay.
Sure.
Thank you, I
really appreciate it.
All right.
Hello, sir,
can I help you?
Hello, I have a
meeting with Ellie Adams.
The young lady
sitting right there.
Oh.
Ellie?
You didn't kill yourself.
I managed not to.
Brian is on his way.
Tell me.
You've thought a lot
about dying, right?
More than most.
Would you rather be eaten
by sharks or mauled by a bear?
Uh, I think sharks.
They seem more efficient.
I wouldn't recommend lions.
I tried jumping into the lion
enclosure at the zoo once,
but all the lions were asleep.
After 10 minutes I had
to climb out again.
That's funny.
Did you know that there are
more people killed every year
by hippos than by lions,
sharks and bears combined.
I mean, that's an
embarrassing way to die.
To be killed by a hippo.
My parents were
killed by a hippo.
Oh.
Sorry.
I'm joking.
My parents weren't
killed by a hippo.
Oh, ha.
They died in a car crash.
So, your book.
You're very interesting
In a good way?
Ah, here comes Brian.
Well, you can tell him
from me he's a fucking moron.
In fact worse, he's an idiot.
A big fucking idiot.
No, idiot is worse than moron.
Idiot is the worst.
Officially, it's a medical term.
Extreme mental retardation.
Idiot, imbecile, moron,
that's the sequence.
Do you know what's after moron?
Cretin?
No, cretin is different.
Cretin is more of
a physical thing.
Just do it will you
or you're both fired!
Your mum's not retarded
or anything is she?
My mum's dead.
Oh, thank god for that!
That would have been awkward!
This is Brian Bentley.
My boss at the company.
We love the book.
Fucking dark.
It's dull by the way.
I wouldn't say that.
Admittedly I haven't read
it, but Ellie loves it.
Says it could be huge.
Are you on Twitter?
I meant after moron.
Oh, the retards thing!
Yeah, that's right, dull.
You know, I once had a
girlfriend who was dull.
Officially...
We were talking
about William's book.
Oh, yeah.
So look, we want to
turn it into a sort of
Idiots Guide to Suicide.
What do you think?
Not medical idiots obviously.
I mean, I doubt those
guys can fucking read.
It sounds awful.
That's not really what, no,
Brian meant that we
want to use the core of
your book to give
a personal insight
into the world of suicide.
Have you really tried to
kill yourself seven times?
10, if you count
cries for help.
Jesus!
You don't seem that disturbed.
When Ellie told me about this
I thought you'd be trying
to cut your wrists
with the bread knife.
You know there's a
bravery in your writing
to acknowledge that the world's
obsession with the banal
is simply a distraction
from the nagging fear
that our existence
has no meaning.
People are discontented
and lonely.
I think your book will
connect with them.
Plus people love
shit that's depressing,
makes them feel better about
their own crappy lives.
Hey, do you really think
you will kill yourself?
Probably.
Great.
Just thinking we could coincide
it with a paperback release.
Well, if he's going
to do it anyway!
I actually wanted to ask
about posthumous publication?
Just hypothetically.
We really want
to work with you.
I'm so pleased
you like my book,
but this guide idea,
it sounds like a lot of work
and I don't have much
time at the moment.
Killing yourself
keeping you busy?
You wouldn't have
to do it all yourself.
Ellie would be your editor.
If that's okay?
This is great
opportunity, mate.
Once in a lifetime, ironically.
This is a chance
for you to say
what you want and be heard.
Yes.
What is that exactly?
That death is nothing to fear.
It's what we all have in common.
There is something
reassuring in that.
Makes me feel less adrift.
Jesus Christ!
I'm not publishing your book
just because you
need a fucking hug.
It's got to sell.
That's the problem these days,
everyone feels a need
to express every detail
of their pathetic lives
to remind us of their existence.
I tweet therefore I am.
No one fucking cares!
I'd rather shoot
myself in the head
than have to listen to
the opinions of these...
Oh balls.
William, get down!
Have a good death.
What are you doing?
Cock.
I think it's stopped.
Aren't you going to thank me?
For what?
I just saved your life.
I'm having mixed
feelings about that.
Jesus.
Poor Brian.
Do you think he's dead?
Half his face was missing.
There goes my book deal.
You smoke?
I didn't think anyone
smoked any more.
You know this is a
non-smoking restaurant.
I don't think they'll care.
Leslie?
Hello, love.
What is it?
Oh, it's nothing.
After 36 years of marriage
I think I know
something when I see it.
Well I,
I made a terrible
mistake at work.
Oh Les, don't worry.
Everyone makes mistakes.
Not me.
Not like this.
Harvey's going to kill me.
Oh, I'm sure he'll understand.
I mean, it's not like
anyone died, is it?
I'll put the kettle on.
You'll never guess
who else is entered
her cushion into the
Southern Counties.
Who?
Only Morag effing Bleasdale.
Who's Morag Bleasdale?
Who's Morag Bleasdale?
She's only the best needlecrafter
in the home counties!
She's won everything!
There's no way I'll beat her.
Yes, you will.
I knew I shouldn't
have done a cushion.
I'm out of my comfort zone.
I would have thought a cushion
would make it more comfortable.
This is not a joke, Leslie!
Morag Bleasdale!
Not to mention Sue
Simmons, and Clive!
Don't forget Clive.
He beat me twice last year
and that was just local,
this is the Southern Counties.
As I say,
it's not about winning.
And like I say,
it is about winning.
I'm not cross-stitching
a cushion
for 30 hours to come unplaced!
You are better
than Morag Bleasdale,
Sue Simmons and Clive.
They're really good.
But you are better.
Thank you.
What are you doing?
I'm just checking something.
Now tell me
what happened at work
and what I can do to help.
No, that's all right, love.
I'll sort it myself.
To miss once was unlucky,
to miss again, unthinkable.
Since signing the contract,
his problems hadn't
seemed so bad,
except one.
And that could
happen at any moment.
Hey.
How do
you know where I live?
It was on your manuscript.
I thought we could
start work on your book.
But I thought...
I've got nothing else on.
I'm on compassionate leave.
You know, for the trauma.
Can I have one?
And are you?
What?
Traumatized?
Oh yeah.
Totally.
Yeah, a man was shot
right in front of us.
That's gonna, obviously it's...
But I probably will
get promoted now, so,
well, he was a total dick!
And I mean, as I
said to the police,
loads of people wanted him dead.
Are you working
on something new?
No, that's...
Your know my friend does
these new writing nights.
You should come.
There's music, beer,
other fuck ups.
So how do you want this to work?
I've had some ideas
on the structure.
I think we should meet
every couple of days...
That sounds great,
but I told you, I can't.
Of course you can.
No, I'm sorry.
Do you really want to
be stuck in this flat
your whole life?
Look at it.
It's no wonder you
want to kill yourself.
You don't get it.
I get that I
connected with your book
and I think other
people will too.
Isn't that what
you're looking for?
Something to feel
less, what did you say?
Adrift?
But I...
What?
I have something to tell you.
I employed the guy
who killed Brian.
Why would you employ
someone to kill Brian?
No, I employed him to kill me.
But he missed and killed Brian.
What?
Well, I wasn't having
much luck on my own
so I thought I'd outsource it.
Outsource it?
You outsource market research,
you outsource website design,
you don't outsource suicide.
I did.
What happens now Brian's
dead and you're not?
I don't know.
The contract lasts a week.
Great!
And what about our book?
You know what?
You have to postpone it.
Post, what?
Or call it off.
I don't know.
You got his number?
You just, you call him and
tell him the deal's off.
But I think it's a
non-refundable kind of thing.
I signed a contract.
Non-refundable?
Mm-hmm.
You've agreed to be
killed by a hitman,
I doubt that's legally binding.
Call him.
Shit.
Fucking thing.
Um, hello.
Hello.
How are you?
Yes, I'm fine.
You?
Good, thank you.
In fact, I've been
thinking and I'm thinking
that I might want
to call it off.
What?
Sorry about that.
But you signed a contract.
Yes, I know, but look,
things have changed...
Didn't you read
the small print?
We've got an agreement.
We have a contract.
It's not legally binding!
Oh, Jesus Christ!
Take some responsibility!
I'm doing the best I can.
I'm one kill away and now
you want to call it off.
Oh look, I tell
you what, fuck you.
We need to go.
Oh!
Here.
What?
Oi, what are you...
No, I'm sorry but it's
already in the system.
Oi!
Go, go!
Where are we going?
I know somewhere!
Oh, for God's sake.
I'll do wine.
You do fire.
Hello, Les.
Harvey.
So, we're in a
bit of shit here.
Harvey...
You are the
source of that shit.
You're a shit factory.
An incontinent shit factory.
But, I'm fixing it.
How are you doing that?
By shooting a traffic warden?
That was an accident.
You're a real black spot
at the moment, aren't you?
Worse than the fucking A14.
The problem, Leslie,
is that our business
is life and death and we can't
afford to have accidents,
understand?
We're professionals.
We don't miss.
Whoever heard of an
assassin with a shaky hand?
You don't see Michael
J Fox running around
shooting people, do you?
And why not?
Because he'd be
fucking terrible at it.
No, Michael J Fox sticks to
raising money for his charity.
He doesn't even do
much acting anymore,
which is a shame because I'm
a big fan of Michael J Fox.
Back to the Future,
Secret of my Success...
Stuart Little.
Why mention that?
Why bring that up?
He's in it.
Only the voice, only
the fucking voice.
Now, if you'd said Doc
Hollywood, I'd agree with you.
Teen Wolf.
Teen Wolf, exactly.
But he doesn't do films anymore
because he knows
he's not up to it.
Do you see what I'm saying?
Not really.
Let me explain.
You're done.
What do you mean?
Okay,
no there's no clearer
way I can say this.
You are done.
You can't fire me.
You haven't made your quota.
But I'm only one hit away.
Listen Shakin' Stevens.
You missed, twice.
You've had a good run.
But as of now...
We even got you a present.
Look at that.
Fucking lovely.
Wha, for shooting
a traffic warden?
Come on!
No one gives a fuck
about traffic wardens.
No, you shot the womble
in the restaurant.
This is the reason
the guild was set up
and you've jeopardized
the entire thing.
Rules, regulations, contracts,
without those you're
just a tit with a gun.
But the target ducked
when I took a shot at him.
It could happen to anyone.
To be honest it
could've been worse.
There was a contract out
on the guy you shot anyway.
Oh, Jesus.
What are the chances?
The universe works in ways
that people like us
will never understand.
Brian Bentley.
Here, you can read all about it.
So, um,
if I completed the contract...
Don't get cheeky.
Pavel was furious
when he found out.
He'd just put a
deposit on a new car.
So, what happens now?
You take your zimmer frame
and fuck off into the
sunset of retirement.
Just don't take up golf.
Golf is for cunts.
But if I finish this
contract I can make my quota.
It's been reassigned.
Who to?
Ivan.
Look at him.
Like a fucking
bear with alopecia.
They're hardcore,
these Russians.
It's a different game now, Les.
You're getting out
at the best time.
But this is what I do.
Not any more.
This job means
everything to me.
Killing people gives
me a reason to live!
It's a terrible
thing, getting old.
Please, Harvey.
I'm begging you.
It's so close.
This is no way for me to go out.
You can't fucking go around
fucking shooting people!
It's not what we fucking do!
What happened to you, Mr.
One-foot-in-the-fucking-grave?
You were the best
and now look at you!
Hanging around Beachy Head,
handing out your
fucking business cards.
It's desperate.
There's no shame in it.
We all get old.
Now take the fucking clock.
I'm not taking the clock.
Take the fucking
clock, Leslie.
Or you will find things getting
a whole lot fucking worse.
No.
He's
become a liability.
Someone should shoot
him in the fucking head.
Here.
Did you try again?
It passed.
I failed to kill
myself so many times
I began to think I
might be immortal.
I guarantee
you're not immortal.
You're just terrible at dying.
Whose house is this?
Ummm, no idea.
What?
I just really hope they
don't come home tonight.
What?
You can't go breaking
into people's houses!
Yeah, and you can't go employing
an assassin to kill you,
but shit happens.
I'm sorry, okay?
I thought it was the answer,
but it was a mistake.
Relax, it's my house.
I grew up here.
It was my parents'
but now it's mine.
How did they die?
I told you.
Car crash.
God.
I was dead too.
For 10 seconds.
Really?
What was it like?
It was only 10 seconds.
Yes, but what
did it feel like?
It felt like nothing.
Literally nothing.
A total empty void.
Oh.
My parents are dead too.
Well, look at us.
Two scarred orphans.
They were crushed.
Crushed?
We went for ice cream.
My parents were arm in arm,
taking licks of each
other's ice creams,
laughing.
So much in love.
They didn't see the piano fall
Mum was splattered
all over the pavement.
Dad was still alive.
Dad, dad!
He looked so surprised.
Hold on, Dad!
Come here, son.
And I thought, "Oh
my god, this is it.
"At this moment, on
the very edge of life,
"he's about to give
me its great secret."
But he just died.
That's...
That's life's great trick,
to make you think
it'll last forever,
that you might be the exception.
That's what's so
unbearable, when you realize
that you're not.
Let's do it.
What?
Kill ourselves.
What, now?
Yeah, why not?
Why are we struggling on?
I mean, for what purpose?
Best to just kill ourselves
now and get it over with.
Up!
Come on!
Though if there
are reasons to live
I'm not sure we'll find
them by killing ourselves.
Seems counter-intuitive.
I would think we would have
a better chance by living.
Living as much as possible.
Doing as much as possible.
Before a piano
falls on our heads.
But I'm sure you're right.
You have thought
about it more than me.
On three?
One,
two,
three.
Your feet are so cold!
What've you got that for?
I'm gonna book the cruise.
I don't want to talk about it.
I know you're upset,
but it's exciting.
The start of the
rest of our lives.
The start of the
end of our lives.
Oh, Les, that's a bit...
I just don't want
to talk about it.
It's retirement, that's all.
But it means I'm useless.
Think of all the new
experiences waiting for you.
You should learn to play golf.
Ugghh!
Golf is for...
I mean, look at this!
Look at this, do
you remember this?
You gave this to
me, Christmas, 1997.
Look, I was a the
top of my game.
I had dominion
over death itself.
And now?
I'm just waiting to die.
If I don't work, who am I?
What am I?
I mean, you must look at
me sometimes and think,
"Where's the man I married?"
You're right.
You're not the man I married.
The man I married didn't
wallow in self-pity.
He did things on his own terms.
I don't want to retire.
Not yet, I'm not ready.
Oh for god's sake!
Then don't.
I thought you wanted me to.
I do.
But not if you're
going to be miserable.
I want you to want it too.
Yeah, but I can't, Harvey is...
You've got to show him.
Finish the contract
and make your quota.
Show him you've still
got the killer instinct.
Done!
Could you choose
how to you wanted to die?
With Leslie?
Yeah.
Yes.
There were lots of options.
He had a brochure.
A brochure?
Yeah.
What did you choose?
Quick and painless.
I didn't want that, but
it's all I could afford.
What did you want?
I wanted to be hit by a truck
after pushing a
child out of the way.
What's wrong with that?
It's a bit extravagant.
I thought it was heroic.
It would mean something.
But it wouldn't
be real, would it?
Well...
And what if you hadn't
got there in time?
What do you mean?
If you hadn't
got there in time.
If you misjudged the speed
of the truck or something,
you'd put a child in danger
just so you could
have your dream death?
Well, uh, I guess
the child wouldn't be
in any real danger.
How could the child
not be in any real danger
if it's about to
be hit by a truck?
I don't know the details.
I guess the truck would
be going quite slowly.
So you'd be saving a child
that's not really in any danger
from a truck going quite slowly.
On a scale of things that
could be considered heroic,
I doubt that would
score very highly.
Hmmmm, I dunno.
What were the other options?
Oh, you know.
Shot in the head,
strangled, poisoned.
Anything more interesting?
Stung by a scorpion?
Melted in acid?
Drowned in slurry?
I've never met
anyone like you.
Now, see what you
could've missed out on?
And it only gets
better from here.
Did you take your pills?
You know what the doctor said.
I don't want you
getting excited.
Yes love, don't worry.
What time is Clive coming?
He should've been here by now.
We have to register by 10.
You really think it's up to
Southern Counties standard?
I'm not embarrassing myself?
Of course not.
I think it's up to
national standard!
I wish you were coming.
I've made you some sandwiches.
And a flask of tea.
And I thought, well,
I thought this
might come in handy.
Penelope O'Neil,
I don't think it is possible
to love you any more than I do
right now.
And you'll be back tomorrow?
Yeah.
I'll do lamb
cutlets for dinner.
Ahhh, my favorite!
Where are you going?
That'll be Clive.
Wish me luck!
Good luck.
See you tomorrow, boys
World's strongest man
and celebrity budgie
fancier Geoff Capes
in the studio to
discuss his recessive...
Now this, number three,
has a lovely kaleidoscope.
Hello, is it on?
Hello, yes, that's better.
And in third place,
number 14, Sue Simmons.
Well done, Sue!
And in second place,
not quite up to her usual
all-conquering standard,
Morag Bleasdale!
So sorry, Morag.
Well done, Morag!
Beautiful work.
But as we all know its
not the taking part,
it's the winning that counts.
So the winner of this
year's Southern Counties
Binnual Needlework and
Embroidery competition,
cushion category is,
drum roll please.
Hello, William.
How did you...
I told you
I was up to the job.
But
everything has changed!
I don't want to die.
The irony is not lost on me.
Who are you talking...
Oh.
Oh, great!
Now I have to kill you both.
No!
Please, she won't say anything.
Will you?
She won't.
I might.
No, you won't!
Okay, well, ummm,
you're definitely dying,
so let's get that
out of the way first,
and then I can work out
what to do with you.
So, um, have a good death.
Oh!
Sorry.
Oh.
Jesus, can't you turn it off?
Yes, I really
have to take this.
Sure.
Go ahead.
It's only my life that
we're dealing with here.
Hello, sweetheart?
Yes, uh, I'm sort of in
the middle of something.
Oh, Les!
Something terrible's happened.
What?
Is this about the
Southern Counties?
We've had a break in, Les.
There's papers everywhere.
And, Les, they've
killed the budgies.
What?
Is everything okay?
They look like
they've been crushed.
Ah, ah, all
right, I have to go.
Oh Les,
who would do this?
I'll work it out,
but ah, I have to go.
Someone killed my budgies.
Budgies?
Mm-hmm
I'm sorry.
So, where were we?
Ah, yes!
Who the fuck are you?
Well, thanks.
That guy was going to kill us!
Oh.
What?
Now, you shoot yourself.
What?
Why would I want to do that?
Or I shoot her.
Don't bring me into this.
Okay, okay.
Let's not...
Wait, why do I have
to shoot myself?
Why can't you do it?
For suicide.
You shot him
then you shot you.
I was never here.
Ah yeah, makes sense.
And you'll let her go?
Well then I have no incentive.
If you're going to
kill her anyway,
okay, okay.
Wait a minute.
You shot him with that gun
so he can't shoot
himself with this gun.
Yeah, she's got a point.
I don't understand.
You take this gun and
then you give me that one.
Okay, now shoot.
Okay, Jesus!
Just let me,
oh God.
Will, what are you doing?
Five.
I just want you to know...
Four.
I just want you to know
that ever since I met you
I haven't thought about
killing myself once.
Three.
Thank you.
Two.
One.
You killed my budgies.
I think he's dead.
Yeah.
Are you okay?
Oh, it's only a,
it's a flesh wound.
Well, I suppose we'd
better get on with this!
Oh fuck.
What, but you just saved him!
So I can kill him.
It's my contract!
It's not legally binding!
Oh, you're not
going to shoot me.
You can't even shoot yourself!
Oh, give it here.
Oh, this is
getting ridiculous.
Put the gun down.
You will not shoot that gun.
Whoa, careful!
Put the gun down.
You put the gun down.
I'm not putting the gun down.
Why would I put the gun down?
If you're not
putting your gun down
there's no way I'm
gonna put this gun down.
Then let's just stand here
until you bleed to death.
Leslie, I really
appreciate all your efforts,
but could we just call this off?
If it's about the money, then...
It's not about the money.
Then what is it?
I understand that you
have certain principles.
If I don't complete this
contract by next week,
I won't make my quota.
And then I'll have to retire.
Yeah well, umm,
uh, no, the only way
out of this is to, uh,
is to kill you both and
then say I never saw him.
Maybe then I'll be
able to keep my job.
If she puts her gun down,
will you promise to let her go?
My contract is with you.
I wanted to die because
I had nothing to live for.
And that's what I
was trying to find.
And now I found it.
And that's got to
be worth dying for.
You really think too much.
I want to thank you, Leslie.
You were there for me when
I really needed someone,
even though you were trying
to kill me at the time.
Yes, you're welcome,
but I still have to kill you.
Okay.
Wait!
Oh, Jesus Christ!
What?
What if we take
out a contract?
What?
On who?
You mean on whom?
On whom?
Retrospectively?
Obviously.
Well, this is, uhh,
utterly irregular.
Who's to know?
Then you'll have your
contract and make your quota.
What about the money?
I've got 2,000 pounds
in an escrow account
you could have.
Do you have any paper?
Yes!
Yes I do, I...
I don't need it.
We should take a
look at that ear.
I've probably got
some Savlon somewhere.
Wait, one thing I
don't understand,
how did you know where we were?
Well, uh, there was a
background check on you.
On?
There isn't a...
No, no, it wasn't you,
it was for your boss.
Apparently he was
very unpopular.
So he didn't
die because of me?
Oh, yes he did.
But someone would have got
to him sooner or later.
What are you going to do now?
I have an idea for a new book.
The main character at least.
You're a good man, William.
I'm glad I didn't kill you.
Thanks, Leslie.
I'm glad I didn't die.
Hello, what's this?
I was worried.
What happened?
Oh, you should
see the other guy!
So?
So?
The Southern Counties?
Ah, first place!
You got first place?
Yep.
And Morag Bleasdale?
Second.
That's fantastic.
It's just the
Southern Counties.
Ahhh, so now it's just
the Southern Counties!
Oh, I am so proud of you.
Hello
Penny, is Leslie home?
Penny, could you give me
and Harvey a minute, please?
You sure?
Yes.
Midsomer Murders
is on in a minute.
So, why are you here, Harvey?
You know.
No, I don't.
You know.
And I know you know.
I don't know.
Mr. Morrison is still alive.
Really?
And no one's heard from
Ivan the terrible hitman.
Well, you can't trust
these foreign kids, can you?
You should have asked
me to do the job.
What do you take me for?
I'm not one of your senior
fucking Alzheimer friends.
I'm actually a
little bit impressed.
I didn't think
you were up to it.
I told you.
Yeah, you did.
And I told you to take
the fucking clock.
You don't have to do this.
Have a bit of
fucking pride, eh?
No, I mean, um,
I mean this.
What is it?
It's a contract.
What?
On Ivan.
You must be fucking...
All right.
Where's the money?
I think you'll find two
grand of Mr. Morrison's
in the escrow account.
But that was...
No, he's still alive
so it's his money.
No, you can't take
on new contracts!
You're retired.
I hadn't made my quota!
Now I have.
You're taking the piss.
Why can't you just retire
like a normal fucking person?
I am an assassin.
That's what I do,
and that's who I am.
You're a fucking dead man.
Ah, like that is it?
Under the table?
Right now?
Right now under the table?
Take a look.
Fuck.
Now, wait a sec, all right?
Leslie!
Please, Penny.
Hasn't Midsomer
Murders started yet?
It was a bit grisly.
And I wanted to show
Harvey my cushion.
I won first prize in the
Southern Counties Biannual
Needlecraft and Embroidery
competition, cushion class.
Oh yeah.
What are they supposed to be?
They're turtle
doves, a mating pair.
Interesting thing about turtle
doves is they mate for life.
They stay together, grow old
together and when one dies,
the other one tends
to die soon after.
They absolutely need each other.
Sweet really.
Huh.
Is that for Les?
Look at that!
Oh!
Isn't that something!
Les?
Isn't that something?
I think he's a bit
scared of retirement.
But I said to him,
it's exciting.
Time to enjoy himself,
didn't I, Les?
The start of the
rest of our lives.
Isn't that right, Les?
Is that right, Leslie?
Did I tell you?
We're going on a cruise!
'Round the whole world!
Cape Town, Sydney,
Nuku'Alofa.
Hmmm?
It's in Tonga.
Ah.
It's a trip of a lifetime,
that's what they say.
Awww, thank you
for this, Harvey.
It'll look perfect
on the mantelpiece.
Isn't that kind of Harvey, Les?
Thank you, Harvey.
Anyway,
I'd best be off.
Leave you to your evening.
You not stopping
for tea, Harvey?
We've got herbal.
No, no, you're all right.
Enjoy your retirement, Leslie.
We're sorry to lose you.
Send our love to Sandra.
Mmm.
I'm not sorry.
I know you loved your job,
but it's not all you are.
At least not to me.
What would I do without you?
I'm just pleased I
didn't have to stick him.
So, uh,
did they like it?
Seemed to.
They love the
assassin character.
And they want to
meet you next week.
That's great.
You can make that?
Yes, I think I can make that.
So this living thing's
really not that bad, is it?
Well, you never
know when a piano
is going to fall on your head.
William!
William!
Call an ambulance,
call an ambulance!
William!
Is, is he...
What, yes, yes,
he's fine, he's fine.
You saved him.
What about you?
I've definitely felt better.
Here, lie down with me.
Are they clapping?
Yeah, they're clapping.
Perfect.
Subtitles by explosiveskull