Breeders (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - No Accident - full transcript

-I need a poo!
-I know, darling. You said it 14 times.

-It's all I can think about.
-Can we go in?

No. They're selling designer luggage
and we have no money.

We never go anywhere anyway, so.

-Oi!
-Can I go inside?

-It looks amazing.
-No, it's not amazing.

We need to get home.
Come here or I'll shoot you.

-That's murder.
-No, this right now, this is murder.

Let's go
before Ava has an accident.

-I'm gonna poo my pants like a big pig.
-Pigs don't wear pants.

-Is this where your dad needs to go?
-No. Mum, mum, come back here.



Stop wandering off.
We know where we're going.

I know where we're going.
It's here.

It's the foot department, for one.

Foot-checking department.
Big old hospital, this.

There's no such thing, you're having
your ankle checked by the physio.

-My mum, your gran...
-Yeah.

Used to have a chiropodist visit.

She was housebound, so this foot fella
came to the house.

-The priest would be round to say mass.
-Oh, man.

And the Corona lorry.
Fizzy drinks.

Laundry van for sheets.

Fuck me.

Hold it in, sweetheart.

Quick, quick, I need to go!



-Hurry up!
-Right.

There we go. Upstairs,
straight to the toilet.

Jellyfish sting is a thing,
but pissing on a bee sting,

that's a whole new territory.
Hey, sweetheart!

Don't worry, these awful bastards
are on their way. Guys, Ally.

-Ally, these awful bastards.
-Hiya.

-Hello.
-Hi. Ava, up you go for a poo.

Shout down when you need wiping.
Careful on the stairs!

-Well, fantastic meal, Mike.
-Happy you enjoyed it.

So, Lamb and Flag tonight.
Might need help with the dirty business.

No, we've got you covered, mate.

-Just no single malts.
-All right, agreed. Brandy it is.

-On your way.
-See you soon.

Oh, no, I'll clear that up in a second.

Were those the men
that ate here yesterday?

Yeah, a couple of them.
It's nice to give a meal to people.

They always buy me drinks at the pub.

Fucking hell, Michael, you've
used up all the food again.

Why didn't you call me when I was
at the shops? I was just there.

Yeah. Well, I have a minor issue
with phone credit,

and with not actually
having a phone any more.

Right. Now have you found
a room yet or...?

I'm getting there.

I want to be out of your hair
as much as you want me to go.

I don't want you to go particularly...

I need to hear about
the National Insurance thing,

find out what pension money
I can claim.

-Right.
-Once I know how much I'm getting,

I'll move into whatever place
I can afford, as God as my witness.

Okay. I mean, you are welcome
to stay here, obviously.

At the same time, you aren't.
Does that make sense?

We don't want you
living anywhere too shitty.

-I've finished my messy poo!
-You know what I mean.

Coming! Oh, don't forget mum's
babysitting tonight,

so please make yourself invisible.

Do you want a tea
from the machine

while we wait for your dad
to be seen to?

Can we get a decent coffee
from over the road?

-The machine's stuff tastes a bit like...
-Piss.

Yeah. Hot piss that burns
the roof of your mouth.

I want some fair-trade piss
from the caff.

-Do they do tea?
-Of course they do.

No, I mean do they do it properly
with loose leaves in a nice tea...

Mum!
Fuck!

-You stepped in front of an ambulance.
-Oh, I never!

-You've broke my arm.
-I haven't.

-You've fractured me.
-No, I haven't.

-I was saving her life. It's fine, mate.
-Oh, dear!

-You didn't see the big ambulance?
-It don't half hurt.

I'm sorry. Let me take this.

-We're gonna have a sit down.
-What, in there?

In there, in the hospital. There you go.

Jesus Christ.

I was with Paul, just out the front
there, and he went for me.

-Grab her, she means, to save her.
-He went for me arm, and me stomach.

I was stopping you getting run over.

Let your mother speak, please,
Mr. Worsley.

What? I was... With respect,
I wasn't stopping her from speaking.

I want to hear what happened
in her words.

Me too. I'm trying to facilitate that
so we're all on the same page here.

I'm very clumsy, aren't I?

You are, but don't say that
like I've asked you to say...

don't look at me;
look at her.

He hasn't told me
to say anything, Doctor.

I'm under no threat
of any more violence.

I might ask you to step into that
cubical down the call, Mrs. Worsley.

I'll have a colleague give you
an examination for any other bruising.

I hope you don't think
it's Paul's fault I got hurt.

We just need to look you over.

This is a kind son, really.

Although he did once smack me
in the face with a spade.

Plastic one, not...
don't say that, Mum.

It was tiny and plastic
and for making sandcastles.

-It was an accident, I was three.
-You could've had me eye out.

He used to love being all nude
on the beach

-...when he was a toddler.
-Christ.

Running round
with his funny little prawn

-...out for all to see.
-Oh, man.

-My colleague will be with you shortly.
-Thank you.

Thanks. She really was about
to get run over.

-How's your son, Mr. Worsley?
-Luke, you mean?

He's fine, thanks. How do you...
we've seen you before, right, with Luke?

Yeah. Quite a few times.

-Doctor?
-Hi, our baby fell off the sofa.

He's hit his head.
We left for one second. He slipped off.

We put cushions around him...

-He'll be fine. Come with me.
-Thanks.

Doctor!
He flew out the swing.

-I wasn't pushing hard.
-He's a man with weak arms.

-What?
-Come this way.

Hi, he put his Spiderman mask on
backwards and ran into the bin.

Hold on, mate.
It's alright, darling.

-Excuse me, mate.
-Broken child here, mate. Thanks.

It's seems like Luke's right shoulder
has been dislocated.

We were swinging him by his arms.
In a fun way.

Yeah, you know when you each take a hand
and you lift them up and you swing them.

Right. Well, Luke
is fine, thank you for asking.

-Very well. Thriving.
-Quite the catalogue of accidents.

Oh, I wouldn't say catalogue.
Pamphlet, maybe, a leaflet.

-Everyone else in the family well?
-Yeah, my dad's here, currently.

He had a fall.
That was nothing to do with me.

Not that my mum's injuries are.

I mean they are, 'cause I caused them,
but for the right reason.

Well, my colleague will check
out your mum's bruises

and see if any treatment is needed.

-Paul.
-Yeah, come in.

-Thanks for doing this.
-You're welcome.

Been trying to get a table
there for months.

They do things with scallops
beyond human imagining.

Hi Mum! You can give the kids
spaghetti with butter and Marmite

-...or sardines and Ryvita, sorry.
-Where is he?

-Who?
-Him. Your father.

I smell Green Irish Tweed cologne
and brown leather.

I'm wearing aftershave.

-I just bleached the sink.
-He's here.

Why have you got
that shit in your house?

-Michael isn't here.
-He is.

-Michael isn't here.
-See?

He's at the pub with his friends,
won't be back until very late.

I can't be in a house
that man is staying in. Sorry.

Leah.

Twat.

We'd be on the grilled sea bass
if it wasn't for Luke.

-Do we need onions?
-We need everything. We have no food.

Michael has fed the 5,000
and 3,000 of them had seconds.

-So are we having...
-Spaghetti with butter and Marmite.

It's that or Shreddies
avec Thai red curry sauce.

I'll order a fridge full of food.

-Tom and Jerry fridge full.
-Yes.

Big ham and a shiny roast turkey

and a trifle and a cheese
with massive holes in it.

Luke, Ava, dinner's ready!

-Coming!
-Oi, slow down, careful on the stairs.

Michael was talking
about moving out today.

Okay, good.
Do you want him gone?

-Ava, what cheese do you want?
-Monkey bum cheese.

-Another?
-She likes Red Leicester.

Don't know if I want him gone.
Most of my life I wanted him back.

Luke, dinner's ready!

Get down, now!
You're already in my bad books.

-Coming in a second!
-No, not in a second, mate, now.

Quick smart or your dinner
goes in the bin, run!

Hurry!
Hurry, hurry!

-Ah!
-Shit.

Ah! Ow! Ow!

-Ow!
-All right.

-You're mad.
-No, Ally, I'm serious.

I mean it.
We can't take him to hospital.

-It hurts!
-We are taking Luke to hospital.

No! The doctor made
it very clear.

They already suspect
that we are dodgy.

Now if we go in again
with another accident...

-But it was an accident!
-Ow!

Think they'll take Luke into care?

Yes, I do. Or he'll have to live
with foster parents.

-Probably vegans.
-Oh, Paul.

-He hates chickpeas.
-Just calm down.

What do you suggest we do then?

Look, if it is broken,
can we set the bone ourselves?

Okay. How would we know if it was
broken and now would we reset a bone?

YouTube! Everything's on YouTube.
It's how I fixed the toilet.

We could end up disabling our son!

I know, but it's that
or "Hello, King Herod, back again?"

-Oh, Christ. Shh.
-Ow.

All right.
Come on then, mate.

-Come on, darling.
-Ow!

-Ow. Ow.
-Okay. All right. All right.

It's okay, Luke. We're gonna go in
and get your foot mended.

Mate, you've got to tell them that Mummy
and Daddy had nothing to do with this.

We wouldn't hurt you, we love you. You
were running when you shouldn't have.

But you shouted at me to run,
"Hurry, hurry, hurry."

-I'm sorry about that.
-So really it's your fault I slipped.

If you'd come down
to dinner when...

All right. I'm sorry I shouted.
Don't tell the doctor I shouted, okay?

Think about what you're saying
if they ask any questions.

If I don't, will you shoot me
like you said?

-Yeah.
-Come on.

-It hurts!
-I know, sit back.

-Dr. Dimitrescu?
-Ah.

What seems to be the problem
with this young man?

Running when he shouldn't have been?

-So, a bad sprain.
-Yes. A few days off from school.

-Yay!
-And RICE therapy.

Rest, ice, compression, elevation.
He'll be well soon.

-Well, that is a relief.
-Yes, that is. Thanks, Doctor.

And I'm going to ask
that someone visit you.

Just to chat about child safety
in and around the house.

To see if we can't make things a little
less dangerous for Luke and Ava.

S... I'm sorry, do you mean
the Social Services are gonna visit?

The local authority's children services
department will be visiting, yes.

We're gonna get a visit
from Social Services?

Okay, well thanks, shall we...
come here, mate.

I'm so ashamed. We've got fucking
social workers coming, Paul.

-I heard.
-They're coming to our house.

I mean that is serious,
serious shit.

We need to change
how we are with the kids.

-You mean I need to change.
-No. We need to.

That's why I said "we"
and not "you."

I'm the one that shouts at them,
aren't I?

I'm the rager.
I'm Hair Trigger Harry,

I'm the one who made Luke
run down the stairs.

Ally, I'm...

-I'm not an abuser, am I?
-Of course not.

-I mean I'd never hit them.
-Luke's just had a lot of accidents.

Well, some psychologists would say
that nothing is ever really an accident.

I have never beaten you.

An adult shouldn't beat a child,
that's my motto.

Not really sure you can claim that
as yours.

I sometimes smacked you.

Back of the legs, fine.
And your mum hit you.

Women are allowed to hit.
But you were never beaten.

Many thanks.
Though it is a fine distinction.

-No, beating involves a shoe.
-Oh, it does?

Right, that's
the UN definition, is it?

Well, a weapon of some kind.
Shoe, slipper, leather belt.

Ideally it's something you can wear
so you always have it with you.

-You don't hit your two, do you?
-Of course not.

Non-psychopaths don't hit
their children these days.

-I mean I want to sometimes, Jesus.
-Of course you do.

Humans have walloped the living shit
out of our kids since caveman-times.

Right up until Live Aid. It's only in
this last generation it's all changed.

It was always wrong, Dad. You can't
teach right and wrong through violence.

No?

No, I mean
sometimes you can, I guess.

Maybe a wallop is better
than taking the iPad away for a week

or no chocolate for a month
or whatever.

It's quicker, but I couldn't
physically hurt my kids.

Do you think I'm
subconsciously hurting Luke?

-Oh, don't be daft.
-No, seriously.

Maybe I want to hit him
sometimes, like I was hit,

but I know I can't,
so I hurt him in other ways,

subconsciously via swings or stairs,

-...or a dislocated shoulder.
-We both dislocated it.

That's sweet of you to say.

Look, we are, we're in shock.
We just need to get some sleep.

Think they'll check the bins?
See how much we drink?

I don't know, Paul. I've never been in a
fucking Ken Loach film like this before.

Ally.

-Comes around again, doesn't it?
-What's that, Carl?

Bin day. You think it can't be a week
since I put the recycling out,

but of course, it always is.

You can't fight time.

-Carl, can we ask a favor?
-I'll be quiet.

No, no, it's not... it's...

can we put put some of our bottles
in your recycling?

I've only got an olive oil bottle,
couple of Nutella jars. Should be fine.

-Thanks a lot. We've got some...
-People coming round.

-Not to inspect us, to observe.
-Is it Social Services?

-What?
-Why do you say that?

Well, it's just sometimes you shout,
Paul, at Luke and Ava,

and neighbours can hear,
and you swear sometimes,

and I know some have thoughts
about calling...

Are they talking about whether or not
I'm a good father?

Fuckers in this terrace,
are they bitching about me?

Strong word,
but probably the right one.

Don't need strangers to say I'm a bad
dad, got myself and Social Services.

-How's your fridge?
-My fridge?

My sister had a visit when she was
married to a sociopathic narcissist,

no comparison intended,

She said they checked the fridge
for what the kids will eat.

It's empty, currently. But we have got
another delivery coming, about now.

We can't let them see
how the fridge is.

It's like one you'd leave by the road.
Thanks!

Good luck.
And if you need a character witness,

-...my number's in my newsletter.
-Okay.

Hey. What's... what's this?
It was in the recycling.

-What's what?
-Hmm?

-Oh.
-Oh?

You're not eligible for any pension.
Didn't pay for long enough.

-Were you gonna tell us?
-Sure, tonight.

I don't know how it got in the
recycling, maybe by accident.

-Some say there are no accidents.
-Then they're morons.

So you have no money at all,
and no prospect of any money at all.

I'll find a place.
Don't worry. I'll take a job...

Michael, you're 70, what will you do?
Be the face of fucking L'Oréal?

Now is not the time for this.

I am not having our kids taken away
and replaced by you.

I understand. I'll disappear before
the child catchers arrive.

-Fucking hell.
-Where's our shopping?

It's late. Want me to go out?

There's no time,
and we'll end up with two lots

and it'll look like we're
making our kids obese.

-Is that Mr. Worsley?
-Yes it is.

-Your shopping delivery.
-Supermarket guy.

There's an accident up ahead,
so I'm gonna be late.

-Very sorry, sir.
-How late? You can't be late.

Oh, it seems like
a pretty major accident.

There's two air ambulances. Looks like
there's definitely fatalities.

Right, but I do need my shopping.

Don't... don't judge me.

If I don't get it in two minutes,
my children will be taken into care.

If you don't get your shopping in two
minutes, your kids will be taken?

Sounds unlikely, I know, but yes.

Is there another of your vans

a minute from my house
who can give me someone else's shopping?

I don't care what, as long as it's food,
not just tampons and clingfilm.

You can't have someone
else's shopping, Mr. Worsley.

God, it's the Stasi. They're early.

Fuck you. When my kids are being diddled
in a shed by some bearded nonce,

it'll be your fucking fault.

-Hi.
-Hello.

Hello.

-Do you... yeah.
-Please.

-Come in.
-Thank you very much.

3,000 a month.
Bills included.

Boiler's just been serviced.

It is quite a challenging
house for young children.

Yes, no.

We bought it when we weren't
thinking about kids.

Yeah. Not that we didn't want them.
We did. We do.

-They mean everything to us.
-Yes.

How old are the children?

-Four and seven.
-Stair gates seem brand new.

Ordinarily with older children
you don't expect...

We panicked.
They are new. Sorry.

We just... we put them in today.

We're scared. We're scared.
I'll be honest with you.

We're fucking terrified.

We think you're going to take the kids
'cause I'm a monster.

-Are you a monster?
-He's definitely not.

I try hard not to be a monster.
I love those kids.

I don't want them hurt, don't hurt them,
but accidents happen.

Look at Princess Diana...
although they do, sometimes think that...

I'll save you the trouble
of looking in the fridge. It's empty.

Although we do
have a food truck coming.

I can show you the receipt,
on my phone.

-Yeah.
-Yeah, see?

One substitution.
A different kind of ham.

That's fine.

This is obviously a home
where children are cared for.

The number of books, the variety

of clothes, bathroom toys.

It's clearly a very
child-centered household.

Yes, it is, thank you.
Thank you.

-So, have we passed?
-It's not a question of passing.

Right. No. Yeah.
But have we?

We just need to try
and avoid any further accidents

as much as possible in the future.

If we feel there's any neglect
of the kids,

including preventable accidents,
we can and will legally intervene.

-Understood.
-So we're sort of on probation.

Well, it could be worse, I suppose.

Though obviously it could be
a lot, lot better too.

Yeah.

Excuse me.

Just a few details...

-Does it come...
-You just... you press, lift, and then...

Right. You know what?
I'll just...

-Actually safer like that.
-Yeah.

See you later.

-Shall I bring the bags in, sir?
-No, just hand them over's fine.

Cheers. Sorry for swearing
at you earlier.

Go fuck yourself, you little shit.

And we're good with
the ham substitution, by the way.