Bad Education (2012–…): Season 3, Episode 5 - The Exam - full transcript
Fraser discovers that Alfie never got his Biology CSE and tells him he must sit it or lose his teaching job. This involves him being a pupil in Miss Gulliver's class and sparring with his fellow students so he decides the only way to pass is to cheat. Sadly for him the adjudicator is the fearsome Maurice Hewston, who knows all the ruses but fortunately Grayson has an excellent Plan C which sees him through. Alfie's father also splits up with Grayson's mother due to his dislike of her annoying dog.
Two households, both alike in dignity,
in fair Tring, where we set our scene.
Ancient grudges have been forgot, thanks
to these star-crossed lovers.
I love it when you quote old shit.
Smooch, how's your breakfast?
Frank cooked it special, you know,
to say sorry for all them practical jokes.
You stopped being mean to Alfie, ain't you, Frank?
Ugh! Yeah. Yes, he has.
No more pubes on my toothbrush.
Aw, I knew you two was going to get on.
Ding dong! All passengers for Posh
Paws Pet Salon, please disembark.
Woof, woof!
Oh, Mart, you're so funny.
Say goodbye to Daddy, Coco.
Bye-bye, Daddy!
Bye-bye, Coco!
Come here, you big hunk of man.
Please don't!
Oh, God.
Oh...
You put them in my sandwich, didn't you?
Do you know why I have summoned you
here, to the Embassy of Bantartica?
To tell him to dump Grayson's mum?
No.
Although, as Headmaster, Martin,
I am formally obligated to remind you
that you are seriously punching
above your ruddy weight.
What's your secret?
I'm like the Tory party.
I perform very well down south.
Right, you, shut up.
You, why are we here?
The local education authority have forced me
to run background checks on the staff,
However, in the rummage,
I have discovered Alf's guilty little secret.
Ugh, God! Is this about
my Harry Potter audition?
Alf got down to the final three,
just pipped at the post
by Emma Watson.
I'm talking about your GCSE Biology,
or absence thereof.
Ooh, the GCSE story.
Let me dust off me old book of yarns.
Get on with it.
It was young Alf's GCSE term
and he was having to deal with
some pretty brutal bullying.
His mother and I never got to the
bottom of why they picked on him.
Alfie was also struggling with biology.
Luckily though, Alf wasn't the only
neglected soul at the school.
A friendship was born.
That young janitor from Boston
taught Alf everything he knew.
Come his exam, he was brimming with confidence.
What happened?
He got a U. Oh.
Turned out the janitor didn't know
anything about biology.
Or much else for that matter.
The man had an IQ of 40.
He was tutoring Alfie in a strain of pataphysics
he claimed a lizard had taught him in a dream.
So what? I failed an exam, like,
seven years ago.
I suppose now you're going to tell me
that I'm not allowed to teach anymore.
Yes, I am. I can't employ you
without your core GCSEs.
You're going to have to sit biology
along with the other candidates.
Me? Do an exam with the kids?
But I haven't done biology since I was, like, 16.
Well, I tell you what,
I could probably give you an A to Z
on the Ps and Qs of the birds and bees.
Right, anything but that.
Alfie Wickers, can you concentrate please?
Can I go to the loo?
It's "May I go to the loo,"
and no, you can't, because you've
already been three times.
Now, carbon dioxide plus water
equals glucose, and...
Yes, Alfie?
Can-- sorry-- MAY you teach me the equation
of how to cook crystal meth?
Just in case I fail the exam.
Well, you won't fail if you concentrate.
Er, Miss, when do we get to see a fanny?
If you ask nicely, maybe your
brother will let you see his.
Ooh! Settle down please.
He ain't my brother.
Sorry, can I just point out,
I don't have a fanny.
Why have you predicted us all A stars, Miss?
Because, Joe, nothing is more
powerful than self belief.
Yeah, but, Rosie, in Joe's defence,
he's about as likely to get an A star
as he is to win Rear of the Year.
In my defence?
Joe's right, when we crash and burn,
our 'rents are going to be mucho sad face.
Other than Jing's obviously.
Yeah, obviously.
Jing's going to get ten A stars
and a scholarship to an all-girls private school.
So, obviously Jing's going to be fine.
Sorry, babe.
It's not your fault.
My parents are obsessed with me
getting this scholarship.
Remember, Jing, parents only want
what's best for you.
Yeah, I mean parents always say that,
but sometimes what parents actually want
is really, really shit for everyone involved.
Are you saying my mum ain't good enough
for your saggy-bollocked
prick of a dad? No, Frank.
What I'm saying is that when
my father is motorboating
your ridiculously-titted,
dog-bothering mother over breakfast,
that perhaps they don't have
our best interests at heart.
You leave Coco out of this.
Who the hell is Coco?
The rat his mother keeps in her handbag.
Coco is a pedigree Chihuahua.
Probably the ugliest dog I've ever
seen in my entire life.
I'm warning you! It looks a bit like
someone glued some whiskers
onto a junkie's scrotum.
OK, I'm sorry. Frank! Oh...
...Fireball Tomahawk rockets?
Freeze!
Uh-oh, it's the MILF hunter.
Any last requests?
Does your missus have a sister?
No, but her mother's quite tasty.
Excuse me.
Yes, 30 litres of gasoline.
I'm organising the kids' end of exam party.
Ingredients - one skip, one match
and a whole heap of textbooks.
About that, the skip party's off.
Council were very clear.
No more fires.
Yeah, well, there's always a killjoy somewhere,
living in a thatched cottage.
Martin, I think you need to call Frank's mother.
There's a problem. Oh, God!
Has Frank found our home videos?
No...
Tell me everything you know
about nitro-glycerine.
Now, this morning, I had to break-up a fight.
He started it! No, I didn't.
Dad, he called you a prick.
Boys will be boys.
They were just play fighting.
He called Coco a rat.
What?!
Did I? I don't remember saying that.
You can say what you like about Frank.
I can?
You can call him a useless mongrel.
Bit harsh.
You can call him a selfish,
bed-wetting, little bastard,
who made his dad up and leave. Whoa!
But don't you dare be rude about my little princess.
Right, um, I wouldn't say any
of those things about Frank,
mainly cos he scares the shit out of me,
but also because underneath the bravado
and the pube sandwiches,
I know that he's a good kid.
Alfie's absolutely right.
I'm not sure you should be calling...
You have no right to tell me
how to bring up my boy. Martin?
Perhaps you should try... Martin!
You're bang out of order, Rosie.
Mrs Grayson, I'm not telling you
how to raise your children.
Behavioural problems are sometimes
linked to jealousy.
Not jealous, Miss.
Don't deserve Mummy's love.
Coco's pedigree.
I'm... I'm not pedigree.
OK. Um, here's an idea.
How about we just say sorry to each
other and then we can all move on?
I think that's a wonderful idea.
Frank, I...
Well?
You want me to talk to the dog?
Coco, I'm very sorry
for saying that you look like a junkie's scrotum.
Martin?
Well done, Alfie.
No, Martin! You as well.
You hurt her feelings.
But I didn't...
Sorry, Coco.
See!
That wasn't so hard, was it?
Silly old man, won't be having
any of Mummy's pudding tonight,
will he, Coco?
Nice to see your father's found
himself another nutcase.
I mean how does he find them?
Look, I know it's tricky with Frank,
but you and your class have
to stay focused on this exam.
Rosie, you know I have the utmost
respect for your judgment,
but A stars? For my class?
Are you mental?
But don't you realise what an amazing
opportunity you have here?
You can stand shoulder to shoulder with these kids,
going through the same ordeal together, as equals.
Alfie, you can inspire them to do great things.
The only way we can pass the biology exam
is if we cheat. Agreed?
Agreed! Boys and girls,
prepare to be transformed
into ruthless cheating machines.
This is your Tour de France
and I am your dodgy Italian doctor
with a suitcase full of blood.
The Sit Behind The Clever Kid method.
Here we go.
One smart kid makes their work
visible for the cheats
slipstreaming either side of them.
Apropos of nothing,
Jing, how big is your handwriting?
The Water Bottle method.
The invigilators are required
to allow you to take a bottle
of water into the exam.
We simply steam the labels off the bottle,
write the answers on the inside of them
and then stick them back on.
The Plaster method.
Same logic applies.
Answers underneath,
then simply peel back when necessary.
The Tissue method.
We write the answers on the tissues in this box,
then swap it for the one in the exam hall.
If you're stuck, all you need to do is fake a cold.
Or have a wa... Fake a cold and the
answers are literally handed to you.
The Wheelchair method.
All you need to get through this is a false bottom.
Is that what your mum told you when
she sent you to boarding school?
I meant in his wheelchair.
It's an old shoplifter's trick.
What?
The Tapping method. Perfect
for multiple choice questions.
I merely tap out the number
of the question that I'm stuck on.
And then whoever has the answer,
taps it out back to me.
Memento method.
Write down answers on parts of your body
that are concealed by your uniform.
The more body space, the better!
Get in!
And, for my final trick, the Smartphone!
They get confiscated, you fool!
Oh, my God, how am I going to
retweet all my little monsters?
Never fear, because I will be
handing in a dummy phone,
leaving me free to use my toilet
breaks to consult my actual phone,
which I have sneakily planted
in a designated toilet cubicle
before the exam.
While you're in there,
you can give your mum a bell.
Her number's still on the toilet wall.
My number's up there too, Sir.
You know, phone a friend with benefits.
Yeah, as opposed to my dad,
who has a friend on benefits.
Is that it then?
Can we get back to revising now?
Not quite.
If all else fails, I have a trusted third party
waiting to receive an all-clear text message.
If that text doesn't come through,
they will call the school,
claiming to be from the hospital,
saying that my grandmother has
been in a terrible accident.
Whole exam rendered null and void.
But, Sir, who would tell such a horrific lie?
Oi, oi, Dickers! Sounds like your
bollocks have finally dropped.
Right, I only get one call a day,
so this better be good.
Martin? Ssh,
I've just got Coco off to sleep.
I'm babysitting while Catherine
redecorates Coco's boudoir.
She wants it to be a surprise.
Martin, are you 100% happy?
Please don't wake her up!
She wouldn't stop barking.
I had to slip a little whisky in her milk.
Oh, God, don't tell me she's making
you wear that as a breast?
See you in there.
Oh, I'm not invigilating the exam.
What? But you have to!
When you invigilate it's so much easier to cheat...
expectations and exceed academically.
Remember when you sent me that clip
of a geriatric man singing with his genitals?
And remember how I accidentally broadcast it
to an exam full of children?
Best prank ever!
Yeah, well, since then, they've been a bit weird
about me invigilating exams.
But fear not, my replacement
is the best in the business,
the legendary Mr Hewston.
You do know Maurice Hewston?
Never heard of him.
Maurice is the most ruthless,
ball-breaking cheat buster
ever to have removed a child's
nipples with a shatterproof ruler.
The man is an arsehole!
Shit! Legend has it,
as a youth, the boy Maurice got
caught cheating on an O Level.
He was sentenced by a kangaroo court
of disaffected rural Latin teachers
dressed as crows,
to suffer the ultimate punishment.
What happened?
They cut out his tongue.
Jesus Christ! Good luck!
I'm going to smash this exam, yeah.
Alfie, I'm really proud of you.
The kids look so confident.
Whatever you did has done the trick.
Well, you know, it's like you always say,
nothing beats honest to goodness hard work.
Alfie, not really appropriate.
Just a little good luck hug.
Well, OK. There we are.
There you go.
Ah!
Good luck, kids. Good luck, Alf.
Alfie, I'm scared!
What if we get caught?
Don't worry, mate.
You're going to nail it.
You'll get your grades, I'll keep my job.
Rosie'll be impressed, take me back.
It's literally the perfect crime.
Hewston!
Bad luck, babes! Oh, shit, man!
Oh, this guy's good.
Oh, for fu...
Time for Plan B.
By the way, er...
thanks for telling my mum that
I ain't a bad bloke.
Oh, that's no problem.
I mean, it don't mean you and your dad
ain't pricks, yeah,
but I owe you one.
Thanks.
Hello, Abbey Grove.
This is a message from Watford General Hospital.
'This is a message from Watford General Hospital.
'We've checked all the scans, all the x-rays.
We've even borrowed the Hubble Telescope,
'but we still can't find your cock.'
So hot...
Have some water.
What happened? You fainted.
I asked Mr Hewston if that meant
you got special consideration.
He just spat on the floor,
which I took to mean no.
How did you do?
That bad? Worse!
I've lost my job, Joe.
The papers!
What about them?
Distract Hewston.
I'll sneak them out.
Hey, I just wanted to say,
well played. Good game.
Want to swap shirts?
Just a joke.
Anyway, I understand why
you're such... an arsehole.
I mean, God knows I'd be like that
if a teacher had cut out my tongue.
What the hell you talking about?
Why would anyone cut out my tongue?
Oh!
That's why you don't speak.
I beg your pardon?
Goodbye.
Where are the papers?
I had a better idea. I swapped
your cover page with Jing's.
What? Think about it.
All week she's been saying how
she wants her parents to love her
for who she is and not her grades.
This way, everyone wins.
I dunno, Joe.
All right, Bum and Bummer.
Fraser wants ya.
You're missing the skip party.
Where's Jing?
I need to talk to her.
She's over by the skip.
We're going to get more books, Sir.
Cool.
Grab some shit from my desk too.
Jing?
Look, there's something I'm feeling terrible about,
though, technically it's Joe's fault.
Cheers, Sir.
You know the way you said
you didn't really want to get
an A star in your GCSE?
What if I told you
that you're definitely not going to get an A star?
I'd say, "I know."
And that I'm delighted about it.
Well, that's worked out rather well, then.
That's why I torpedoed my exam.
Sorry, what?
I wrote the worst paper you have
ever seen, literally un-gradable.
It's offensively stupid! I mean...
I could be sent to some kind of home.
Well, isn't that just...
terrific?
Kill me!
Oi, My Little Pony, say goodbye to your satchel.
That ain't mine, darling.
Pink is so noughties.
Alfred, have you seen Coco?
Pink travel bag, I left it on your desk.
Ah! Where's baby Coco?
I bought her some pressies.
Dad, what I think may have just happened,
in the long term,
might be for the best. Short term?
Run!
Martin, where's my baby?
I told you not to leave her alone!
I... I'll look in the car.
Jing, I can't read Mandarin, are these fireworks?
No, they're not, actually.
Oh, thank God, I thought you'd
gone completely insane.
They're military flares.
Highly explosive, potentially blinding,
containing lead, arsenic and...
Oh, God and the box is empty.
Fraser?
The nice pirate in Shanghai
said they'd make a real fire dragon
come alive in the sky. Oh, shizzle!
Children, get back from the skip!
Just cover your eyes, kids.
I may have made a slight miscalculation.
Frank, what are you doing? Plan C!
Is that...?
Open the door, Martin.
Tell me what you did to Coco.
I didn't do anything to her.
Then where is she, Martin?
Oh, you don't need to be afraid,
so long as you let me into the fucking car!
Coco!
Martin!
in fair Tring, where we set our scene.
Ancient grudges have been forgot, thanks
to these star-crossed lovers.
I love it when you quote old shit.
Smooch, how's your breakfast?
Frank cooked it special, you know,
to say sorry for all them practical jokes.
You stopped being mean to Alfie, ain't you, Frank?
Ugh! Yeah. Yes, he has.
No more pubes on my toothbrush.
Aw, I knew you two was going to get on.
Ding dong! All passengers for Posh
Paws Pet Salon, please disembark.
Woof, woof!
Oh, Mart, you're so funny.
Say goodbye to Daddy, Coco.
Bye-bye, Daddy!
Bye-bye, Coco!
Come here, you big hunk of man.
Please don't!
Oh, God.
Oh...
You put them in my sandwich, didn't you?
Do you know why I have summoned you
here, to the Embassy of Bantartica?
To tell him to dump Grayson's mum?
No.
Although, as Headmaster, Martin,
I am formally obligated to remind you
that you are seriously punching
above your ruddy weight.
What's your secret?
I'm like the Tory party.
I perform very well down south.
Right, you, shut up.
You, why are we here?
The local education authority have forced me
to run background checks on the staff,
However, in the rummage,
I have discovered Alf's guilty little secret.
Ugh, God! Is this about
my Harry Potter audition?
Alf got down to the final three,
just pipped at the post
by Emma Watson.
I'm talking about your GCSE Biology,
or absence thereof.
Ooh, the GCSE story.
Let me dust off me old book of yarns.
Get on with it.
It was young Alf's GCSE term
and he was having to deal with
some pretty brutal bullying.
His mother and I never got to the
bottom of why they picked on him.
Alfie was also struggling with biology.
Luckily though, Alf wasn't the only
neglected soul at the school.
A friendship was born.
That young janitor from Boston
taught Alf everything he knew.
Come his exam, he was brimming with confidence.
What happened?
He got a U. Oh.
Turned out the janitor didn't know
anything about biology.
Or much else for that matter.
The man had an IQ of 40.
He was tutoring Alfie in a strain of pataphysics
he claimed a lizard had taught him in a dream.
So what? I failed an exam, like,
seven years ago.
I suppose now you're going to tell me
that I'm not allowed to teach anymore.
Yes, I am. I can't employ you
without your core GCSEs.
You're going to have to sit biology
along with the other candidates.
Me? Do an exam with the kids?
But I haven't done biology since I was, like, 16.
Well, I tell you what,
I could probably give you an A to Z
on the Ps and Qs of the birds and bees.
Right, anything but that.
Alfie Wickers, can you concentrate please?
Can I go to the loo?
It's "May I go to the loo,"
and no, you can't, because you've
already been three times.
Now, carbon dioxide plus water
equals glucose, and...
Yes, Alfie?
Can-- sorry-- MAY you teach me the equation
of how to cook crystal meth?
Just in case I fail the exam.
Well, you won't fail if you concentrate.
Er, Miss, when do we get to see a fanny?
If you ask nicely, maybe your
brother will let you see his.
Ooh! Settle down please.
He ain't my brother.
Sorry, can I just point out,
I don't have a fanny.
Why have you predicted us all A stars, Miss?
Because, Joe, nothing is more
powerful than self belief.
Yeah, but, Rosie, in Joe's defence,
he's about as likely to get an A star
as he is to win Rear of the Year.
In my defence?
Joe's right, when we crash and burn,
our 'rents are going to be mucho sad face.
Other than Jing's obviously.
Yeah, obviously.
Jing's going to get ten A stars
and a scholarship to an all-girls private school.
So, obviously Jing's going to be fine.
Sorry, babe.
It's not your fault.
My parents are obsessed with me
getting this scholarship.
Remember, Jing, parents only want
what's best for you.
Yeah, I mean parents always say that,
but sometimes what parents actually want
is really, really shit for everyone involved.
Are you saying my mum ain't good enough
for your saggy-bollocked
prick of a dad? No, Frank.
What I'm saying is that when
my father is motorboating
your ridiculously-titted,
dog-bothering mother over breakfast,
that perhaps they don't have
our best interests at heart.
You leave Coco out of this.
Who the hell is Coco?
The rat his mother keeps in her handbag.
Coco is a pedigree Chihuahua.
Probably the ugliest dog I've ever
seen in my entire life.
I'm warning you! It looks a bit like
someone glued some whiskers
onto a junkie's scrotum.
OK, I'm sorry. Frank! Oh...
...Fireball Tomahawk rockets?
Freeze!
Uh-oh, it's the MILF hunter.
Any last requests?
Does your missus have a sister?
No, but her mother's quite tasty.
Excuse me.
Yes, 30 litres of gasoline.
I'm organising the kids' end of exam party.
Ingredients - one skip, one match
and a whole heap of textbooks.
About that, the skip party's off.
Council were very clear.
No more fires.
Yeah, well, there's always a killjoy somewhere,
living in a thatched cottage.
Martin, I think you need to call Frank's mother.
There's a problem. Oh, God!
Has Frank found our home videos?
No...
Tell me everything you know
about nitro-glycerine.
Now, this morning, I had to break-up a fight.
He started it! No, I didn't.
Dad, he called you a prick.
Boys will be boys.
They were just play fighting.
He called Coco a rat.
What?!
Did I? I don't remember saying that.
You can say what you like about Frank.
I can?
You can call him a useless mongrel.
Bit harsh.
You can call him a selfish,
bed-wetting, little bastard,
who made his dad up and leave. Whoa!
But don't you dare be rude about my little princess.
Right, um, I wouldn't say any
of those things about Frank,
mainly cos he scares the shit out of me,
but also because underneath the bravado
and the pube sandwiches,
I know that he's a good kid.
Alfie's absolutely right.
I'm not sure you should be calling...
You have no right to tell me
how to bring up my boy. Martin?
Perhaps you should try... Martin!
You're bang out of order, Rosie.
Mrs Grayson, I'm not telling you
how to raise your children.
Behavioural problems are sometimes
linked to jealousy.
Not jealous, Miss.
Don't deserve Mummy's love.
Coco's pedigree.
I'm... I'm not pedigree.
OK. Um, here's an idea.
How about we just say sorry to each
other and then we can all move on?
I think that's a wonderful idea.
Frank, I...
Well?
You want me to talk to the dog?
Coco, I'm very sorry
for saying that you look like a junkie's scrotum.
Martin?
Well done, Alfie.
No, Martin! You as well.
You hurt her feelings.
But I didn't...
Sorry, Coco.
See!
That wasn't so hard, was it?
Silly old man, won't be having
any of Mummy's pudding tonight,
will he, Coco?
Nice to see your father's found
himself another nutcase.
I mean how does he find them?
Look, I know it's tricky with Frank,
but you and your class have
to stay focused on this exam.
Rosie, you know I have the utmost
respect for your judgment,
but A stars? For my class?
Are you mental?
But don't you realise what an amazing
opportunity you have here?
You can stand shoulder to shoulder with these kids,
going through the same ordeal together, as equals.
Alfie, you can inspire them to do great things.
The only way we can pass the biology exam
is if we cheat. Agreed?
Agreed! Boys and girls,
prepare to be transformed
into ruthless cheating machines.
This is your Tour de France
and I am your dodgy Italian doctor
with a suitcase full of blood.
The Sit Behind The Clever Kid method.
Here we go.
One smart kid makes their work
visible for the cheats
slipstreaming either side of them.
Apropos of nothing,
Jing, how big is your handwriting?
The Water Bottle method.
The invigilators are required
to allow you to take a bottle
of water into the exam.
We simply steam the labels off the bottle,
write the answers on the inside of them
and then stick them back on.
The Plaster method.
Same logic applies.
Answers underneath,
then simply peel back when necessary.
The Tissue method.
We write the answers on the tissues in this box,
then swap it for the one in the exam hall.
If you're stuck, all you need to do is fake a cold.
Or have a wa... Fake a cold and the
answers are literally handed to you.
The Wheelchair method.
All you need to get through this is a false bottom.
Is that what your mum told you when
she sent you to boarding school?
I meant in his wheelchair.
It's an old shoplifter's trick.
What?
The Tapping method. Perfect
for multiple choice questions.
I merely tap out the number
of the question that I'm stuck on.
And then whoever has the answer,
taps it out back to me.
Memento method.
Write down answers on parts of your body
that are concealed by your uniform.
The more body space, the better!
Get in!
And, for my final trick, the Smartphone!
They get confiscated, you fool!
Oh, my God, how am I going to
retweet all my little monsters?
Never fear, because I will be
handing in a dummy phone,
leaving me free to use my toilet
breaks to consult my actual phone,
which I have sneakily planted
in a designated toilet cubicle
before the exam.
While you're in there,
you can give your mum a bell.
Her number's still on the toilet wall.
My number's up there too, Sir.
You know, phone a friend with benefits.
Yeah, as opposed to my dad,
who has a friend on benefits.
Is that it then?
Can we get back to revising now?
Not quite.
If all else fails, I have a trusted third party
waiting to receive an all-clear text message.
If that text doesn't come through,
they will call the school,
claiming to be from the hospital,
saying that my grandmother has
been in a terrible accident.
Whole exam rendered null and void.
But, Sir, who would tell such a horrific lie?
Oi, oi, Dickers! Sounds like your
bollocks have finally dropped.
Right, I only get one call a day,
so this better be good.
Martin? Ssh,
I've just got Coco off to sleep.
I'm babysitting while Catherine
redecorates Coco's boudoir.
She wants it to be a surprise.
Martin, are you 100% happy?
Please don't wake her up!
She wouldn't stop barking.
I had to slip a little whisky in her milk.
Oh, God, don't tell me she's making
you wear that as a breast?
See you in there.
Oh, I'm not invigilating the exam.
What? But you have to!
When you invigilate it's so much easier to cheat...
expectations and exceed academically.
Remember when you sent me that clip
of a geriatric man singing with his genitals?
And remember how I accidentally broadcast it
to an exam full of children?
Best prank ever!
Yeah, well, since then, they've been a bit weird
about me invigilating exams.
But fear not, my replacement
is the best in the business,
the legendary Mr Hewston.
You do know Maurice Hewston?
Never heard of him.
Maurice is the most ruthless,
ball-breaking cheat buster
ever to have removed a child's
nipples with a shatterproof ruler.
The man is an arsehole!
Shit! Legend has it,
as a youth, the boy Maurice got
caught cheating on an O Level.
He was sentenced by a kangaroo court
of disaffected rural Latin teachers
dressed as crows,
to suffer the ultimate punishment.
What happened?
They cut out his tongue.
Jesus Christ! Good luck!
I'm going to smash this exam, yeah.
Alfie, I'm really proud of you.
The kids look so confident.
Whatever you did has done the trick.
Well, you know, it's like you always say,
nothing beats honest to goodness hard work.
Alfie, not really appropriate.
Just a little good luck hug.
Well, OK. There we are.
There you go.
Ah!
Good luck, kids. Good luck, Alf.
Alfie, I'm scared!
What if we get caught?
Don't worry, mate.
You're going to nail it.
You'll get your grades, I'll keep my job.
Rosie'll be impressed, take me back.
It's literally the perfect crime.
Hewston!
Bad luck, babes! Oh, shit, man!
Oh, this guy's good.
Oh, for fu...
Time for Plan B.
By the way, er...
thanks for telling my mum that
I ain't a bad bloke.
Oh, that's no problem.
I mean, it don't mean you and your dad
ain't pricks, yeah,
but I owe you one.
Thanks.
Hello, Abbey Grove.
This is a message from Watford General Hospital.
'This is a message from Watford General Hospital.
'We've checked all the scans, all the x-rays.
We've even borrowed the Hubble Telescope,
'but we still can't find your cock.'
So hot...
Have some water.
What happened? You fainted.
I asked Mr Hewston if that meant
you got special consideration.
He just spat on the floor,
which I took to mean no.
How did you do?
That bad? Worse!
I've lost my job, Joe.
The papers!
What about them?
Distract Hewston.
I'll sneak them out.
Hey, I just wanted to say,
well played. Good game.
Want to swap shirts?
Just a joke.
Anyway, I understand why
you're such... an arsehole.
I mean, God knows I'd be like that
if a teacher had cut out my tongue.
What the hell you talking about?
Why would anyone cut out my tongue?
Oh!
That's why you don't speak.
I beg your pardon?
Goodbye.
Where are the papers?
I had a better idea. I swapped
your cover page with Jing's.
What? Think about it.
All week she's been saying how
she wants her parents to love her
for who she is and not her grades.
This way, everyone wins.
I dunno, Joe.
All right, Bum and Bummer.
Fraser wants ya.
You're missing the skip party.
Where's Jing?
I need to talk to her.
She's over by the skip.
We're going to get more books, Sir.
Cool.
Grab some shit from my desk too.
Jing?
Look, there's something I'm feeling terrible about,
though, technically it's Joe's fault.
Cheers, Sir.
You know the way you said
you didn't really want to get
an A star in your GCSE?
What if I told you
that you're definitely not going to get an A star?
I'd say, "I know."
And that I'm delighted about it.
Well, that's worked out rather well, then.
That's why I torpedoed my exam.
Sorry, what?
I wrote the worst paper you have
ever seen, literally un-gradable.
It's offensively stupid! I mean...
I could be sent to some kind of home.
Well, isn't that just...
terrific?
Kill me!
Oi, My Little Pony, say goodbye to your satchel.
That ain't mine, darling.
Pink is so noughties.
Alfred, have you seen Coco?
Pink travel bag, I left it on your desk.
Ah! Where's baby Coco?
I bought her some pressies.
Dad, what I think may have just happened,
in the long term,
might be for the best. Short term?
Run!
Martin, where's my baby?
I told you not to leave her alone!
I... I'll look in the car.
Jing, I can't read Mandarin, are these fireworks?
No, they're not, actually.
Oh, thank God, I thought you'd
gone completely insane.
They're military flares.
Highly explosive, potentially blinding,
containing lead, arsenic and...
Oh, God and the box is empty.
Fraser?
The nice pirate in Shanghai
said they'd make a real fire dragon
come alive in the sky. Oh, shizzle!
Children, get back from the skip!
Just cover your eyes, kids.
I may have made a slight miscalculation.
Frank, what are you doing? Plan C!
Is that...?
Open the door, Martin.
Tell me what you did to Coco.
I didn't do anything to her.
Then where is she, Martin?
Oh, you don't need to be afraid,
so long as you let me into the fucking car!
Coco!
Martin!