Brassic (2019–…): Season 2, Episode 2 - Episode #2.2 - full transcript

Where's the weed shed?

Underground.

Show me.

And you've been living down here,
have you? Since you died.

Mr McCann.Ssh-ssh.

Have a seat.

You're wondering what I'm gonna do
to you, right? Yeah.

That thought had flipped through my
mind.

I see you in me, Vinnie.

In what way? No, Christ. Not that
way, no.

What I mean is...



...I see some of you inside me.

Mm... Fucking hell.

I started out with nothing.

Scrapped my way up through guile,
cunning.

And I respect people who do the
same.

So if you can do all this...

...and fake your own funeral,

you're a man I can use.

So, this is my proposition.

I'll pay the cash and all this.
Doubles, trebles, quadruples.

You'll need more space. You run it,
but I own it.

OUR weed empire.

And if I should ever need a thief

or something that requires your
unique skills,



I will call and you will assist.

Do we have ourselves a deal?

C... can I stop worrying you're going
to cut my dick off?

Consider it safe in my hands.

But nobody fucks with me twice,
Vinnie.

Deal? Yeah, deal.

Get yourself cleaned up. You can't
work for me looking like shit.

I think this calls for a drink.

Oh, er, no, that's er...

It's piss. Mm.

Where are you shitting?

# That's what I want

# That's what I want
# That's what I want

# That's what I wa-a-ant
# That's what I want #

Hey-hey!

Hey, Vin, are you all right? Hey!

Hey, Vinnie! You all right?

# I'm alive!

# And I'm seeing things mighty
clear today

# I'm alive

# I'm alive

# And I'm sitting here yelling
and doing my thing

# I'm alive

# And I'm real

# I can breathe and touch
and see and feel

# I'm alive

# Yeah, hear me, all

# I'm a man

# Who don't care if my hair's
a bit long

# I'm a man

# Na na # Na na

# Na na # Na na

# Na na # Na Na

# Na na # Na na

# Baby, baby

# Baby, baby

# Yeah, yeah

# I'm a man

# And I'm red and I'm yellow
I'm black and I'm tan

# I'm a man

# I'm alive

# Sitting here yelling
and doing my thing

# I'm alive... #

Voila. Voila?

It's a closed metal shutter.
Yeah, fuck me.

It is now, but not when it's full of
exotic plantation, Dyldo.

Unit 51. That's where the Americans
keep their extraterrestrial aliens.

That's Area 51.It's highly
classified. They reverse engineer
crashed alien spaceships,

study the occupants and make their
own aircrafts based on the
technology.

Right. Well, in here we're gonna be
growing weed. Industrial scale.

Where'd you get it? Chinese Dan.

That slippery fuck. I know he's a
slippery fuck,

but he's a slippery fuck offering us
a deal on a unit, no questions asked.

The best part is next door's a
storage place for curry flavourings,

bloody herbs, powders and shit like
that.

With a bit of clever drilling,
ventilation, it's gonna mask the
smell of the ganja.

There's only one problem.

He's made you look quite silly
there.Mm-hm.

Carrot Top Dolls.

They've had a resurgence, actually...
Press that.

...in China.Right. And Chinese Dan,
being so fucking Chinese,

he seized upon this. What are we
supposed to do with them?

I bought 'em as part of the deal on
the unit. Fuck's sake! Fucking hell.

Dolls are dolls. Kids loved 'em in
the '80s. Couldn't make 'em fast
enough.

We should buy a thousand fucking VHS
machines while we're at it.

Yeah, and some Tamagotchi's,
basically.

Ha ha ha! Shut up!
We're gonna need grow lights,
irrigation and extractor fans.

We can nick all that shit. But can we
make it work for an industrial grow,
Dyl?

Right.

It's gonna need a false ceiling
erecting.

It's gonna need marking out into
grow lanes.

Properly measured, no winging it.

We need to seal that entrance, use
the side door.

Can't expose the plants every time
we come and go, but...

otherwise... it could work.

Yeah. Oh, shit. It's
McCann. Here you are.

Mr McCann. Hello, Vin, where are you?

You won't believe it, but I'm
standing inside

what is soon to become our industrial
grow here. Excellent, excellent.

You have twin girls, don't you? Do
they like dolls?

Dolls? Yeah, I got a couple going
spare.

I'll drop 'em off for you next time I
see you. Did you want me?

I did, yeah. My boys are tied up, so
I need you to collect something for
me.

Yeah, yeah, no worries. What is it?
His name's Tony Tillerton.

That's a person.
I'm gonna text you two addresses.

One's his, one's where I want him
bringing.

You might wanna take a friend with
you. He's a conniving toerag.

Yeah, understood, yeah. And Vin?
Yeah?

Get the fucker back safe, yeah?
Listen...

Er... No, he's gone.

Right, who fancies a nice day out?

# Can you tie them in a knot?

# Can you tie them in a bow?

# Can you throw them over your
shoulder like a regimental soldier?

# Do your ears hang low? #Yo.
Tommo, where are you?

Halfway down the country on our way
to France. France?

France, yes. Booze cruise for the
Rat and Cutter. Jesus Christ, his
memory. We told you.

It's the fucking new pills, I can't
remember a sodding thing.

Cardi says hello. Carol's given him
the full Vinnie makeover.

Right. How's he look? Er...
an absolute plum.

The whole family's here. I've got
Carol, Erin, Tyler

and, for maximum effect, Carol's
gran Alma. Say hello, Alma.

Hello. You all right, Alma, love?

Yes, thanks.

Is that the darkie? Gran!

Oh, Vinnie. The mental one.
That's the one, Alma.

I've gotta go. Bring me back some
cheese, will you? Will do.

Cheese, Es and as much booze as you
can fit in an Skystrider Crusader.

What are Es? Nothing you need to
worry about.

CARDI: They're sweeties for
grown-ups.

Thanks, Cardi. Helpful!

Au revoir, Vin. Au revoir, bon
voyage.

Deja vu. Fucking French stuff.

Oi. Stop fucking about with them
dolls.

He's done something wrong. You don't
send people to collect people unless
they don't wanna come.

Maybe he doesn't drive, Dyl. Fucking
tell him to get the train.

What if there's not a train line
where he bloody lives. A fucking bus.

Look, I don't know! He's asked us to
collect him so I have to fucking...

What's going on down there?

I think I've got an infestation.
An infestation?

Who've you been shagging? Met this
fella online. Randolf.

He was kind of dirty. What dirty or,
like, dirty dirty?

No, not dirty dirty, just like...
actually dirty.

The sex was amazing, destroyed him.
Lovely little arsehole.

But ever since I've got fierce itchy
pubes now. Have yous any advice?

I do, actually, yeah. Don't have sex
with dirty men called Randolf.

You'll need to shave. I'm Googling
it, but I'm sure you've got genital
lice.

Fuck. What? Could be a yeast
infection. Or scabies. Crabs even.

Extra-mammary Paget's disease. Could
be. Cheers, lads.

Thanks for making me feel better!
Right, here we are.

Avondale. That's not a thing, is it?

I spy with my little eye... No!

No more "I spy".What can we play?

I've got a game, right? This is
brilliant.

We use to play this at school.

Everyone has to tell a secret.

Yeah! Yeah? All right. All right,
I'll go first.

When I'm alone in my house -There's
kids present.

Don't worry, it's clean.

I like to get comfortable, grab a
hairbrush

and pretend I'm in front of
thousands of adoring fans, belting
out power ballads.

# I wanna know what love is

# Ooh, oh yeah

# And I want you to show me
Oh, yeah... #

Why am I not surprised, eh?

Who's next? I'll go. Oh, God.

I'm genuinely nervous. I once stole
a child's breakfast from a cafe

when he went away to the bathroom.
Gran! Awful.

Why? He was a lardy little shit.

All right, your turn. Who me? Yeah.

Let me think. You must have hundreds.

Not really. Oh, come on, Carol

All right

Well... But it's not for young ears.

A fucking porno, Carol?

I thought this was supposed be a
laugh.

What, you're t-telling me you had
s-s-sex

in f-front of a camera and the whole
fucking world's seen it?

It wasn't Pulp Fiction though, was
it, Cardi? Huh?

And it was a long time ago. I've got
fucking pictures in my head.

Ah, you're overreacting. Sure, my
gran's not bothered. Oh, well, she...

I fucking am! You're a hypocrite,
Cardi.

You enjoy the porn but you're not
happy that your girlfriend's in one.

What was it called?

Eager Beavers.

Volume 22.

You're unbelievable. Fucking start
the car!

Fucking hell!

Christ. It's a thatched roof. Hardly
screams axe-wielding maniac, does it?

Hey, he's got peacocks.

Oh, my God, psychopaths like
animals.

Jeffrey Dahmer had cats. Yeah, and
he also impaled dogs' heads on
sticks.

Let's just keep our wits about us.

Any aggro, we jump him.

Hello, chaps!

Fresh scones,
straight from the oven.

Go lovely with a cup of tea.

Right, you know the drill. We're a
big happy family, off on our
jollies.

So, passports out, big smiles...
Passport?..and let's all pretend...

Yes, Alma. Yeah, passports.

Obviously. Cos we're going to a
foreign country.

I haven't got a passport. I haven't
been abroad since 19-

You fucking what?

Jesus fucking Christ!

Gran! What? No-one said.
CARDI: We're going to France.

Is this a Brexit thing? No, it's a
going-to-another-fucking-country
thing. Tommo!

I... I've got my pension book.

Yeah, you show 'em that, I'll show
'em my gym pass,

and he can show 'em his Costa
fucking coffee card!

She's getting out. You can't throw
her out.

We won't get through, will we,
without her passport?

I'm not turning round, Carol, cos
it's taken fucking hours.

We can't throw her out in the middle
of nowhere. It's not nowhere.
It's Folkestone.

There's hotels, a harbour, she'll
have a great time. You go too and
make a p-porno while you wait.

Grow up. There's a market for that.
Gummy BJs and that. What's a porno?

It's a grown-up film.

With sex. Tommo!

What? Was that or was that not
factually accurate? Let's just think
this through.

Why don't we explain what happened
and see if there's anything they can
do?

Like what? I don't know! I'm trying
to think of ways to make it work.

She could hide in the caravan. No,
sweetheart, she can't.Why not?

Yeah, actually. Why not?

No! No, no, Carol, think about it.
The lad's come up with a masterplan.

Hide me? Yes, love, in the bog.

I'm not hiding in the bathroom.

Under the b-bed then. No!

No, Carol. They'll look at us and
assume we're two couples.

They won't look for someone else.
Then why bring her along?

I'm beginning to wonder that myself.

It's the caravan or nothing.

Put these...

...over here and it turns out

there is absolutely... loads of room.

There you go. I'll never get in
there. You will, pull your knees up.

I'm not happy about this. It's a few
hours and then we're in France.

You know what? Pretend it's an
adventure. Pretend it's the war

and you're hiding from the Nazis.
But what if they search it?

Haven't they got infrared cameras?
They don't pick up old ladies,

your bones are too hollow. Come on.
We'll say you've got dementia

and climbed in when we weren't
looking.

Are you OK, Grammy? Give her a
pillow.

Yeah. Do you want some water, love,
and maybe a snack?

Ah, just put the bloody lid on.

Can I go in the other side? No, you
can't.

Grammy? What grammy?

Cunt.

So it all started as my cover story,

so that I could just get a few hours
here and there away from the wife.

You know, "Just going through to
play with the train set, dear."

And then I would just come in here,
through there,

and er... and do the er...
Terence work.

I had to spend a bit of time on the
train set in case she came in

and er, so I started ordering bits
and bobs...

Er... don't touch it. No, you've
derailed the diesel.

I'd ordered bits and bobs on the
interweb

and I really got into it.

When you see that train zooming
around the track

it can be quite therapeutic.

Excuse me. Erm, Mr Tillerton. Mm?

Can I try this out?

I've just always really wanted to
fire one of these.

They're essentially decorative, old
chum.

There's bullets.

Well, be my guest. But just make
sure you do it out the back.

You ever make them crash? I beg your
pardon? Do you ever make them...

sort of smash into each other?

Why would I do that? For fun.
"They're heading towards each
other."

Psshww! Smash. Casualties.

Carnage. "I've lost a leg! Oh!"

You know, "I got separated from the
group."

"Oh, my children, where have they
gone? Where are my children?"

No.

So your wife has no idea that you do
illegal tech fraud?

Oh, absolutely, blissfully unaware.

We have a wonderful retirement. God
knows where she thinks the money
comes from.

What the... Shit!..fuck?

Oh, well, fuck.

It was coming for me.
It's a peacock!

It was coming for me. Whoa, whoa,
put the fucking gun down.

This is Struan.

He's my favourite.

I'm really sorry. I'm
a fish-lover.

I hate hurting animals. They'll all
tell you.

I've had this bird in my bed.Oh.

I can't - Not like that, no.

Curled up like a dog. Still weird.

He was coming for me.

Stop saying that! All right, shall
we er...

Oh, Struan... shall we get going?

Come on, Tony.Struan.I know. Poor
Struan.

Come on. I'll never see his like
again. I know, I know.

Come on. Oh, Struan. Come and have a
cup of tea.

I know. It's a shame. Come on, you'll
see him again.

Who is that boy that shot him?
What's his name?

JJ. He didn't mean to do it.JJ.

Bellend. Oi! Get the fuck up here.

Yes, I'm just leaving a note for the
lady wife about er... Struan. Um...

Would you boys mind awfully if I had
a little tinkle before we go,

if it's a long drive. Yeah, all
right. No worries.

Thank you.

Go with him.

Go with him? Go with him. He might
be up to summat. Like what?

Well, I don't know. But Terence said
he were conniving.

Ah, here, he made scones, he's
hardly danger.

What is that there? Side of your head
just there?

Go with him.

Sorry there, I've gotta come in with
you.

Come in with me? Yeah. It's just...

Just in case, like.

Right. If it's just a number one,

I'll just stand with my back to you,
so...

OK, right. Er... I've just got to
warn you

I've got shy bladder syndrome, so...

Right, yeah. Yeah, shy bladder.
Uh-huh.

I'm ever so sorry.

I can feel it in the pipe, just
can't coax it out.

No worries. Is there... Is there
anything I can do to help?

Like what? I dunno. Run some water
or whistle or something.

Well, if you like, yes.

Oh, no, no, no. Ooh, no.
No, that's... that's not helping.

It's gone right back up into the
bladder. I'll try the tap, so.

Oh, yeah, I think were on the w...
We're going...

Oh, no! It's gone
back up again.

For Christ's sake. What? VINNIE:
What are you doing? We're in t'van.

He's got shy bladder syndrome. Shy
bladder syndrome! That's not a thing.

Tell him we've gotta go. We've gotta
go. I'm bursting.

Why don't I just leave him to piss?
I'll stand the other side of the
door.Fine.

- Just gonna lock the door, thanks.
- OK.

Way I see it, right, life's all
about perception.

Two hours ago you didn't know your
girlfriend's chuff were out there

for every Tom, Dick and Harry to
wazz over

and you were happy in your
ignorance.

Yeah, but now I do. Right, so
pretend you don't.

How? Tell your brain it never
happened.

Tell your brain that...

...she didn't nosh a massive-cocked
guy with the cameras rolling

and there aren't thousands of people
who've wanked themselves into
oblivion -Tommo.

Y-you're not helping. Fine, torture
yourself.

But there is nothing you can do or
say that's gonna change things.

There is, actually. What's that?

I wanna see it. All right.

I wanna see the f-film. Yeah?

Think you're up to it, do you? Yeah.

You can handle what comes out of
that Pandora's box?
Whatever comes up.OK.

Your wish is my command.

Rub that lamp, see what comes out.

Thank you, genie.

I'll make some calls.

Bonjour.

I'm from Cornwall. In that case...

Thas it, my
lover, get on my cock!

Passports.

Have a good trip. Will do.

Just er... wish my dear old gran
could have been here.

Piece of piss. Why would
you do that? Why even mention her?

Having a bit of fun. Relax, we're
through. When can we let Grammy out?

France. What?!

There's CCTV everywhere. We'll get
across the sea, pull her out in
Calais.

Hey... beer?

Back of the fucking net.

What are all these things doing in
here? We're doll connoisseurs.

My daughter had one of these.

I think she used to call her
Bernadette.

Yeah, I bloody hated it.

Do you know these things were going
for 500 quid a pop back in the '80S?

See what I mean, demand. Yeah, then.

I think it's a fungal infection.

You wanna have that checked out.
Friend of mine had that.

Turned out to be extra-mammary
Paget's disease. See?

What even is that?
Well, it's associated

with an underlying cancer.

Huh? Have you got any bleeding at
all?

Not that I've noticed.

Itchy scrotum? Or is it just the
pubes? Mainly just the pubes.

And any discharge? Oh, come on. Are
you a doctor?

Oh, no, no, but you don't get to my
age

without having your fair share of
health scares.

The main things to avoid are
stressful -

Fuck!

Out of the van! Out of the van!

Give me the keys!

Don't hit me. Be cool, man.
Will you shut up?!

Fuck! OK, let's go! Let's go!

You all right, Dyldo?

Ooh! You fuckers! Fucking keys, dude.

Motherfucker.

Fucker. Well, this is fuck, this,
lads.

They got fucking tipped off. This
knobhead down here. What?

This is fucking you, this, Ash!
How me? Fucking shy bladder?

He couldn't piss. He was fucking
buying himself time, so he could bell
them wankers.

And now we've fucking lost him.

What am I gonna tell McCann?
I found them!

Thank God for that

Ah, fuck. They're in a cowpat.

Fish 'em out. What if I get mad cow
disease or something?

You fucking shot a peacock, dude.

Fish 'em out.

Ugh! Ugh!

Now then, they not gonna be expecting
us to chase,

so I reckon we should chase 'em.
They're fucking armed.

Do you wanna be the one who explains
to McCann

that we've lost a pigging pensioner?

No.Exactly.

Oh, bollocks.

Just get in the van.

This is wrecking my trainers, man.
There's no service out here.

I just put my hand in cow shit, so
shut up.

TOMMO: Bonjour et bienvenue en
France.

Mission accomplished.
CAROL: Get her out of there.

Jesus Christ, you're on
the wrong side of the road!

You fucking eejit.

She can get a plane home. I'm not
going through that again.

Hey. I've texted Fingers
McGuinness.

He's got a sex shop in Southport. If
anyone can find that movie, he can.

Legend.

Grammy, wakey, wakey,
rise and shine.

Grammy, we're through. It's all good.

You can get up now, come back and sit
in the car. Alma, love.

Alma. Shit.

Shit what? Er...

I'm not a doctor but er...

I would say with quite a degree of
certainly that er...

...she's dead.

What? No.

Grammy! Grammy!

Grammy, no-o-o-o-o-o!

No-o-o-o-o-o! Let's get you out of
here.

Has she died? Yeah, but she was very
old.

Come on.

Why did you... why did you put her in
there?

It weren't my idea. It were Tyler's.

I merely endorsed it.

Nobody's f-fault, Carol.

Correction, it's his fault.

Or yours. What, m-mine?

You stuffed her under there! Her an
old woman and her on the pills.

I mean, what happened to her?
Maybe...

maybe it were natural causes.

You stuffed her under the bed of a
caravan!

Which, in and of itself,
won't kill you.

What am I going to tell my grandad?

They've been married for nearly 49
years.

Probably... cancel the golden
anniversary.

That's my fucking Grammy you're
talking about!

It wouldn't have happened if she'd
remembered her fucking passport.

I'm gonna fucking kill you. Carol,
Carol, ssh.

Carol! And she were a racist.

Can we go on holiday anyway with her
just dead?

Er...

No, no. No, darling.

Where are these fuckers? Probably
miles away.

Yeah, cos they're bloody
professionals. They had masks.

Masks don't make you professional,
JJ. They're 1.49 off eBay.

They went straight ahead and there's
not been any major turnoff,

so we just keep going and hope -
Fuck! Oh, shit.

That's them. See? Shy bladder.
Let's get 'em.

Fuck.
Motherfuckers have fucking seen us.

We only want to talk!

"We only wanna talk."

What? It might have bloody worked.

What the fuck are we gonna talk
about? The state of the economy?

For Jesus' sake. You're gonna lose
'em, Vin. Not gonna lose 'em.

Piece of shite can't keep up.

Not a good time, Cardi. It's about
your gran.

Did you not hear me say it's not a
good time? What about her?

S-she's kind of dead.

What do you mean dead? Dead, dead.

She's dead. And talking about
stiffs,

did you know your sister's done a
porno? Hold on.

I'll call you back, all right.

Oh, guys, this isn't good.

Don't ever mess with my peacocks,
you bunch of schmucks.

He's shooting us. He's fucking
shooting us.

Armed and dangerous. Drop back. I'm
not gonna drop back. He's gonna kill
us.

I'm fucking commanding you, stop
chasing them. I'm gonna zigzag.

Zigzagging?! Fucking listen to
yourself! Can't hit a moving target.

Fuck you! Shit! I'm gonna fucking
die collecting an old man that can't
piss.

Will you pipe down, dude? No-one's
dying.

Just calm the... Oi, boys! Calm the
fuck down.

Get out of the fucking van.

Arh! Oh, Jesus, his fucking head's
come off. Brilliant!

Yeah, that's not good. Not good?
Didn't you see the fucking sign?

Misestimated. Yeah, you fucking
misestimated.

Now we've got a head rolling on the
floor. His eyes are open.

He's fucking looking at me. Stop him
looking at me.

What we gonna do? What the fuck do
you mean?

He's no good to us now.
No, funnily enough,

he's not much fucking use to us
either, you lemon.

Oi.Get the fucker.

Fuck, it's McCann. What do I do?

Don't answer it. Don't answer it!
Fucking genius, Dyldo.

What if he knows? How can he fucking
know?

Will you fucking calm down, Dylan?
Calm the fuck down.

You fucking calm down an' all. Shit!

All right.

Hello. Hello, Vin, how's it going?

Yeah, yeah. Good thanks, yeah.
Never been be better, actually.

You got Tillerton? Oh, yeah.

Looking at his... looking at his face
right now, actually.

You on your way back? Doesn't sound
like you're driving.

No, we er... we pulled over. He
needed a... He needed a piss.

Oh, yeah, he's got that shy bladder
thing, hasn't he?

No, he's not got that any more. We've
cured it, actually.

He's like a fucking racehorse.
Tony, come on, lad, will you?

Shall we see you later on? Yeah, the
address I sent. 5pm.

I'll be there with bells on. Oh, he's
fucking gone.

Why did you let 'em get away? Fucking
gone. Took his body. What are we
gonna do?

He's still looking at me, you know.

JJ, if you carry on, I'm gonna
fucking brain you, dude.

JJ? No fucking way
am I touching that.

Fuck. How are we gonna move a human
head?

Those Carrot Top dolls. Go on, Dyl,
bro, throw us one of them boxes.

Gotta be honest, man. I'm not sure I
can do this.

You and me, grab an ear each, it'll
be grand.

He looks a bit surprised. Course he
looks fucking surprised.

So would you if you had your head
ripped off your shoulders.

Ooh, fuck me. Smells of mackerel,
doesn't it? Yeah, that's the blood.

Or there's every chance he had
mackerel for his tea.

Oh, dude. Ugh! Whoa. Have you got
him? Yeah. Have you got him?

Fucking hell!

That was you, thatYou didn't stop it
rolling. Brilliant, dickhead.

You could have broken his nose. How
the fuck are you two doing?

Having a nice afternoon? Why take it?
What you gonna do with it?

What the fuck do you suggest I do?
Leave it here?

I think a severed head might raise a
few questions, don't you, Dyldo?

You grab that way. I'll grab this
way.Right.

Shit. Cyclist. Where?

Cyclist, coming fast.

Shut the door.Afternoon.You all
right, mate?

Fuck me.

We brought a woman into the country
illegally and now she's dead.

If we go to the police they'll ask
some seriously awkward questions.

Can't we just bury her at sea? Shut
up. Poor Grammy.

How I see it, right, we've got two
options.

No, three.

No, four.

Oh, for God's sake, Tommo!
All right.

Option A, we go to the fuzz, tell
them exactly what happened and let
the chips fall where they may.

Do you speak the French? Oui.
Any more than oui?

Es-tu trempe.

What's that? It roughly translates to
"Are you moist?"

Well, that's gonna come in handy,
innit Right, B.

Option B. We arrange for a speedy
funeral. Dignified service,

bang her in the oven, on we go like
nothing ever happened. Oven?

Oven or grave. Oven's more
environmentally friendly. So you can
organise a swift funeral

in a foreign country that we can
afford

I can speak to Gary at Abracadaver,
see if he's got any French
connections.

Gay undertaker - there must be a
website or WhatsApp group.

C.Option C would be my favoured
option. Being?

We get the booze, we get the gear,
mission accomplished. And then...

...we hide your granny somewhere
discreet.

Fucking hide her? Look, just think
about it.

We go back, get her passport, come
back here.

Then we reveal she's dead.

Voila. No-one goes to prison.

Where are you gonna hide her, Tommo?
In a field? In a telephone box?

In a fucking roll of carpet?
Obviously not cos they're terrible
options.

Well, the carpet might work, I
suppose.

You killed her, you prick, and now
you want to stuff her in a field

and fill the caravan full of drink.
I specifically said no to the field.

Look, in case you've forgotten,

we brought an undocumented woman
into the country, right?

All of us. Joint enterprise.

QED, we are all in the shit
together.

You're not fucking hiding her! Fine,
what's your big plan?

Right, brought supplies.

How can you eat at a time like this?!

Get off! Oi. Eager beaver.

Carol, nothing's gonna bring your
gran back. I'm sorry, OK?

But I say we get on with the trip,
we...

make the most of the...
beautiful weather.

Yeah? We pick the
booze up, we get... the sweeties.

And then we make a plan when we're
on the road, yeah?

Eugh! Quick, quick, quick, quick.

It wasn't S light spanking.

What's that? Like strangulation? No.

Face sitting? No.

Nothing poo-related? Oh, no, no, no.

Where's the fucking caravan? Where
is it?

Feck the caravan, someone's nicked
Grammy!

Arrrhhh!

His words, his exact words, were,
"Get him back safe."

Not just his head. Not just his
fucking bonce.

He wanted to have a word with him.
"Come for a nice day out," he said.

Smoke a spliff, a few tunes.

And what have I done?
I shot a peacock...

...and I'm sat next to a box with a
head in it.

It's like Se7en.

It's my gran, she's just gone.

It was probably her heart, you know.
Black old heart on her.

Always smoking cigarettes. Fuck!
That's what we tell him. That's what
we tell Terence.

What, that he got trapped in the
seat of a caravan? No. Fucking ring
Gary at Abracadaver.

Tell him we're coming over and it's
urgent. Fucking go on.

That's it, like, we have to tell the
police.Yeah... Ah, mm, yes.

I er... I agree and er...
..I understand
your logic but...

er... before we go down that
particular... avenue,

there might be a few matters it
would be prudent for you know about.

Like what? Well, A,

that wasn't exactly my caravan.

When you say not exactly...
Well, you know, er, not at all.

It was nicked from outside a dog
kennels in Keighley.

B? B. I don't actually have a
driver's license, so we can't say I
was behind the wheel,

which is a problem if they check the
security footage in Calais and er...

C... There's a C.
There's a fucking C.

C, I have a criminal record in
France due to an incident several
years ago

involving two exchange students and
a glory hole in a Paris cinema
bathroom.

Jesus Christ, Tommo! What's a glory
hole?

It's a hole you put your -Cardi.
What?

It... it's... it's for sweets.

You all seem to be forgetting that my
grammy...

The racist... is dead and AWOL.

What if we never see her again?'Ey,
'ey, 'ey. Look, look.

We've saved money on t'funeral.

Right, that's it! Wh...

Who wants to make a porno?!

Anyone?! Anyone want to fuck?!
She's in shock and grief.

Live sex with me! And soon, Eager
Beavers 23.What?

Carol!

Are we on holiday now?

What do you want me to do? It's like
you've been using it as a fucking
pinata.

Superficial, innit, man of your
skills, Gary. Then what?

Where's the rest of him? Fucking
hell, that's where the big favour
comes in

cos we've lost him. You've lost him.
Yeah. Well, no, no.

He got stolen, to be fair. It's a
fucking long story.

The good news is we do have the head.

So I say we stitch that head onto
another body.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sew that head onto
another body? Yeah.

I mean, dude, you must have some
lying around.

Yeah, I have, but oddly enough, Vin,

the bodies are still attached to the
head. They're intact. All right.

So, let's just say, for argument's
sake,

one of them heads was to fall off
that body, right?

And then we get that head and stitch
it onto that body

and borrow it for like two fucking
hours. Is that deeply unethical?

Yes. Utterly contemptible,
unthinkable, undignified.

300 quid.Done.Sick.

All right, so... we've got sort of a
fat fella.

And er... like a thin woman.

And...

...a black lad.

So there's no perfect match.

All
right, one of yous has to catch it.

Dyl? No fucking chance.

My gran died earlier today.

Fuck, dude. I've been fucking lifting
his head all day long.

Quickly, now. This is fucked.

Oh, dude! Fuck!

Fuck me!
It went in my fucking mouth!

How am I supposed to know where it's
gonna spray? It's not my fault.

I'm doing you a favour! Fucking
hell, why's his dick out?

Because he's dead!
"Why is his dick out?"

What do you want? Shorts?
Yeah, some short something.

Bit of dignity for t'poor lad. Just
hold his head! Jesus Christ, dude.

It's fucking... It's like he's
staring at me dude, all limp.

Why does it smell of burnt dog meat?
It's fucking horrible.

Why's it smell like that? You get
used to it, OK?

And, to be honest, I find it quite
relaxing. Hold his head! Ugh!

Eugh!

Right, here we go!
Oh, fucking... Jesus!

Eugh! Whoa! Here we go!

Ugh! Eughhh!

Eugh! Eugh! Eugh!

Eugh! Eugh! Arhhh!

Fuck! Just get me the other one!

Fuck. Ugh! Ugh!

Oh. I don't know if we're gonna have
enough neck here to stitch it on.

Ugh! Ugh!

We're gonna have to put a scarf on
him.

Here we go. There we are. Two
o'clock.

T-two o'clock?

Ahead and right a bit.

What are you saying two o'clock for?
Like on a clock.

Fucking hell. Him there, dickhead,

with the beard and the bloody
terrible sandals.

Keys straight in his jacket pocket

Go on. Off you pop.

Go on.

Oh! Sorry, sorry. Pardon, pardon.

Er, yeah. No, I'm fine, I'm grand.
S-sorry. Sorry.

Ah, success.

Right, where is it?

Where have you parked,

you sandal-wearing prick?

You have got to be shitting me.

How are we all gonna fit in that?
We've got no choice. Get in.

Fingers? You've got it?

You, sir, are the Inspector Morse
of minge.

I spoke to Fingers.

Am I or am I not a genius?

# I'm waiting for my man

# 26 dollars in my hand... #

Shit, that's him. Right, just let me
do all t'talking, yeah?

Mr McCann.

Where is he? He's in the back of the
van.

I wanna see him. Yeah, he's er...

He just started panicking on the way
here.

Fucking hyperventilating and that.

I think he's had a heart attack, you
know.

Open up then.

Go on.

He said he'd put on some weight. It's
probably stress.

It was very quick.

You bastard.

Cheated my fucking wrath with death,
you cunt.

This your fucking way out, is it?
Eh?

This your fucking escape route?

See that face? Face of a traitor.

Face of a man who tried to fucking
cheat his fucking paymaster.

These the dolls?

Ha!

The girls are gonna love these.

Get rid of him.

I've weed myself a little bit.

Oh.

Um...

Er, I need a pee.

Yep. I'll er... just pull over.

# La fille du coupeur de joints

# La fille du coupeur de joints... #

Right, dead quick. Come on.

Carol, smell that smell there?

No!

Oh. Is that a dog lead?

Oi! Eyes off, you.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Oh, Christ.

That...

That's... That
is worse than spanking! Carol!

Carol!

Oh, shit! Dude, the car.

The car's...
I spy with my little eye,

something beginning with F.

Oh, shit.

All right, Vin, how's it going?
Yeah, good, thanks, yeah. How's the
trip?

Great, thanks. Just having a nice
day out.

Yeah, same.

Lovely day out. Hm!

Grammy!

Fuck.

Ready? Ready, yeah. Whoa!

Wow, that's a gasper, isn't it?

That is a bad boy. Hell's teeth.

Right.
I'll be back in a sec.

What a phallus. Huh!

Oh, God.
What about the itching though?

Crabs? Crabs, yeah.