Lovejoy (1986–1994): Season 1, Episode 1 - The Firefly Cage - full transcript

Who'll start me at 100?
100 for a start.

100 I'm bid. 100 I'm bid.

Who'll give me 10, who'll make it 110?
I'm looking for 110.

100? 110 I'm bid. 110?

Who'll make it 20?
Come on, gentlemen, who'll make it 20?

120, I'm bid. It's with you, madam, at 120.

Do I hear 50? 150 anywhere?

Come on, gentlemen, that's a genuine antique.
They don't come up every day. 150?

150 I'm bid.

Come on, gentlemen, I'm looking for 350.

350 anywhere?



Don't lose it, madam,
don't lose it for another 50.

350 anywhere? 350 I'm bid.

At 350. Who'll make it four?
I'm looking for four.

Any more? At 350.

Are you all done? At 350? At 350...

Lovejoy.

It's 7:45 on a beautiful morning,
and you're listening to BBC Radio Norfolk.

For God's sake, boy,
get yourself together.

Well, what time is this Lovejoy bloke
expecting me?

As soon as you get there.

There's an auction
on today so he'll be at Gimbert's.

Now, I've wrapped him up some sausages
and a nice loin of pork.

Oh, and, er... here's the cash.

And try and look a little less dozy
than usual.



Boy, if they gave degrees out for lethargy
you'd be a professor by now.

I don't reckon
I'm gonna fancy this antiques lark.

Given the state of Mrs. Thatcher's Britain,

polytechnic dropouts like you
don't have much choice, do they?

And seeing as how it's extremely unlikely
that you're ever going to be an astronaut,

an industrial tycoon or a gynaecologist,

antiques it is.

It has to be said, Eric,
you're a bitter disappointment to me.

Well, only since I've turned vegetarian.

I just had to come over and see your face
the first time that lot went through.

- What's going on, Charlie?
- Right of way, Lovejoy.

I made a deal with the farmer.

You made a deal with me,
I rent this from you.

- I've only given him use of the yard.
- Oh!

I promise you none of the cows
will set foot inside the house.

- I owe you for this, Charlie.
- I wait with baited breath.

Good morning, Mr. Gimbert.
How are you today?

Extremely well, thank you, Bigelow.

Just had the pleasure of making
Lovejoy's life a little less comfortable.

That always cheers you up,
doesn't it, Mr. Gimbert?

Yes, yes.

I know I appear
unreasonably vindictive at times but...

that's the way it is.
You know the form by now.

If home is where the heart is,
then this is home to me.

An auction room. An auction day

when the old ticker beats faster with
the slender possibility that somewhere,

just somewhere amongst the bird cages,
silver spoons, commemorative medals,

rolltop desks and castoffs
from granny's attics

somewhere amongst that lot
a genuine, authentic antique will appear,

shining with all the love that made it.

That's what this lot are doing here, too.

Dandy.

What do you make of this bonheur du jour,
Lovejoy?

- It's listed as Sheraton.
- It's his style.

- So is it good or not?
- It's pretty good.

Good enough for a couple from Belgravia,
with oodles of loot?

And a Rolls
with a vulgar personalised number plate?

It's perfect, Dandy, perfect.

Don't forget antiques can be very valuable

and once money is involved -
a great deal of money -

people can get very greedy, cunning.

Desperate, even.

And then people can get hurt... or worse.

- Rather sweet, don't you think, Tink?
- Horrible.

Genuine Chelsea, look. Gold anchor mark.

Horrible.

Excuse me.
Do you know someone called Lovejoy?

That depends.

You look rather too young
to be an outraged husband,

but you might be one of those
despicable nerks that hand out writs.

No, I'm Eric.
I'm his student, Eric Catchpole.

Ah, well, in that case,
I do have the privilege of being

Mr. Lovejoy's trusted ally and barker.

Barker?

A barker, is usually a dishevelled
alcoholic trained to sniff out antiques

wherever they may lurk

and assess their authenticity, thus.

Blue and gold printed earthenware, Spode,
marked AD 1732.

It's quite an achievement that considering
Josiah Spode wasn't born until 1733.

We now come to lot 29, which on my left.

A small portable of a Japanese bamboo box.

We'll start off the bidding at £100.

Gentlemen, £100?

Who'll give me £100?
Gentleman at the back. 110?

120?

130?

140? 150?

160? 170?

180?

190?

200?

210?

210 at the front.

220?

230?

240? 250?

260?

270?

280?

Come along, ladies and gentlemen. 290?

300...

Saved by the bell.

Mind telling me what is going on, Officer?

This is not a den of inequity
or a house of ill repute.

We're trying to conduct
an auction here.

Sorry, Mr. Gimbert,
I'm looking for Lovejoy.

Tell him you never touched the girl.

Oh, in that case, Sergeant,
you must do your duty.

You sold that, Lovejoy?

Yes, to a guy in Cambridge.
Got a nice price.

- Hope you haven't spent it.
- Only on luxuries like food and rent.

It's nicked!

It was stolen a month ago from a house near
Thetford, among other things.

I don't steal antiques, I deal them.
You know that.

You'd deal them if they were stolen,
we both know that.

Oh, thank you, Colin,
but I didn't want one anyway.

- Where'd you get it?
- Someone who is neither a dealer or a thief.

Drummer.

- Drummer?
- Who's he?

Old character lives out on the estuary.
Owns a donkey and cart.

Gives kids rides in summer.

Rest of the year he spends beach combing.

Which is where he found this.
He brought it to me.

My only crime is that I still
haven't paid him his commission.

As it was nicked, you also owe
the man in Cambridge his money back.

Well, if I could get back to the auction and get
back to my trade I might be able to do that.

OK, Lovejoy, but I warn you.

Yes, Chief, I know.

I have graced you ruby anchor before.
Oh, just one thing...

Please don't send uniformed cops
to pick me up.

Hurts my standing in the community.

What was it, love, parking tickets?

- Who got the cage?
- You really wanted that Japanese thing?

It's not a thing, it's a genuine
18th-century Japanese bamboo firefly cage.

I know a collector in London
who'd have paid me a stack for it.

Better talk to her then, darling.

Oi! Oi!

Excuse me, are you Lovejoy?

Some other time, all right?

I'm Eric.

Eric Catchpole, like. My dad spoke to you.

- Look, another time, all right?
- I've got some cash.

And some meat.

I've also got a motorbike.

I take great pleasure in unveiling
this plaque for the town of Kersey.

- No brakes.
- What?

- No brakes.
- What?

No brakes!

- Sorry I lost her.
- It's OK.

Why were you so keen
to get hold of her?

She got something I'd wanted at the auction,
hoped I could make a deal with her.

I certainly bollocksed up
that ceremony back at the village.

The Mayoress didn't look too pleased.

She wasn't the Mayoress,
she was Lord Felsham's wife, Lady Felsham.

And very tasty too. Well, from what
I saw until you covered her in pond life.

Well, I turn up this morning
and they say you've got nicked,

then we tear around the
country like Miami Vice.

- And then we drank some aristocrat.
- So?

Well, so, this job might not be
totally boring after all.

- What's wrong?
- The house?

- What about it?
- I know the family, they're away.

- So?
- So somebody is there who shouldn't be.

Hey, now look, we're not gonna
get heroic or anything, are we?

Ruddy strange lot, this antiques business.

What is it, boy?

Get him!

Police? Lovejoy.

Help.

Obviously that dog belonged to the thieves.

The people wouldn't go away on holiday
and leave that thing in the house.

Now, look,
if it was me turning over a house,

would I call you up and report my
own break-in and take the lad along?

Pity you didn't get the number plate.

That doberman was a trained
attack dog,

there can't be that many
of those in this area.

Just run your eye over this lot.

For over a year now there have been a series
of systematic robberies in the whole area.

Between here and the coast,
about 100 miles radius.

- Very selective, everything's small.
- Small?

Portable. They're not pinching sideboards.

- Have you seen any of this lot?
- No.

Believe me, I'd know.
Some very tasty little items here.

Nope, they've all gone to London
or another continent or they're sleeping.

Sleeping?

Stashed. These things aren't gonna lose
their value, are they?

I'm losing my job
if I don't come up with something.

Sorry, I must have dozed off
or something.

He's had a very full and exciting day.

What do you think
of this antiques business, then?

- Well...
- It's amazing, isn't it, Eric?

Totally amazing.

- You forgot your meat yesterday.
- Hm?

Oh, yes.

Now is the winter of our discontent,
made glorious summer...

by that loin of pork.

Well, my dad wasn't too chuffed
about last night.

Oh, yesterday was not a typical day, Eric.

A typical day is filled with
much more honest endeavor.

- What's on the agenda for today then?
- Principles of forgery.

Well, not so much forgery as restoration.

Eric?

Until you know something,
leave antiques alone.

Never touch, handle, scrape,
polish or brush.

Always assume it's a Goya,
a Chippendale, a Sheraton or a Michelangelo

until you've proved otherwise.

What's this gonna end up as then?

A lustrous oak, 17th-century bible box.

- What is it now?
- A rather dull, brown 19th-century bible box.

- So what do I do, then?
- You, Eric,

help create a demand for
what we have to sell.

How?

By placing this ad in tomorrow's paper.

"Wanted urgently, English bible box,
oak preferred, 17th century or earlier."

- I don't get it.
- It's what we call doing a breeder.

Now, tomorrow a lot of dealers
will have read that out, right?

So my bible box will be in great demand
when I flash it down the arcade.

So I don't put your name on, then?

Course you bloody don't.

Well, whose then?

I don't know. Anybody's.
Stick a pen in the directory.

Just as long as I sell my box to a dealer,
I don't care.

Oh, and Eric...

I wouldn't tell your father
about this if I was you.

There's all cows in the yard.

I know.

Thank you, Eric.

Lovejoy, what's happening, then?

Amanda, please. You're almost naked.

Oh, knock in on the head, Charlie.

If you've come about the cows,
you're wasting your breath.

Thanks, Charlie.

Look, that track belongs to me and I've
leased the right away to the local farmer.

I've given up on the cows, I've dropped by
to ask you about something else.

The auction.

There was a girl there very pretty, petite,
great hair, about 25.

Do you know her?

I've seen her around. Yachting club,
the odd restaurant with Frank Devlin.

Devlin? Nasty sort from what I've heard.

Very nasty
if you're after his bird.

No, she's got something I wanted.
I could lay it off in London.

Hello!

Oh, you are beautiful when you're wet.

All right, don't throw yourself at him.

I'm going down the Yew Tree,
will you come have and have a jar?

I've got a bible box waiting for me,
some other time.

I'll hold you to that.

Constant source of worry, my sister.

Oh, she's all right, Charlie.
It's called youth, remember?

There's no excuse for promiscuity
and dying your hair green and...

- And what?
- She just did it to wind me up.

Did what? Come on, tell me.

Had a butterfly tattooed
on her left buttock.

Well...

A very pretty butterfly, Charlie.

Mm.

Mr. Lovejoy?

Lovejoy, no Mr. Come in.

I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anybody.

- Please, don't bother.
- OK.

- My name's Nicola Paige.
- I'm delighted.

I went to that pub where all the antiques
people hang out. Um, the Wool Pack.

They gave me your address.

They must have had a few,
they're not usually that benevolent.

They said you were a divvy,
whatever that means.

That's someone who can tell
a genuine antique at a glance.

No research, no catalogs,
just instinct, that's all.

I would have imagined a
person with such a gift

might have... lived a little better.

Oh, this is just a front,
keeps up my street credibility.

My real homes are in
Gstaad and Monte Carlo.

Oh, yes. That is... lovely.

Genuine Oiran firefly cage.

Oiran?

She was a courtesan.

She used to catch fireflies
in her master's garden

and when they made love,

they'd do so by the light
from the fireflies in the cage.

If you didn't know anything about it,
why the hell were you so keen to get it?

Because of this.

I've seen some coal carvings in my time
but nothing quite so... fragile.

Who did this?

Someone I knew.
For reasons I'm not about to tell you,

I think the coal one
contains a clue to something.

I found out it was modeled
on a Japanese firefly cage,

I've been trying to find one ever since.
Yesterday I did.

- Hoping it would give you a clue.
- It hasn't.

That's why I'm here.

I'll make it worth your while.

I'll pay you.
It looks like you need money.

This has been lacquered.

Perhaps to hide any lines
that have been drawn round the cage.

What's this.

That's clever.

See, the whole thing is it's own key.

Nothing inside.

- What are you doing?
- Shh.

Sorry, nothing.

Nothing.

If your interest has faded in the original.
I've got this buyer in London.

- Good night, Mr. Lovejoy.
- It's Lovejoy.

- Everything all right, Brian?
- Oh, aye.

You know my truck's getting
quite attached to your old motor.

If it's not towing it, it's starting it.

Will it get me to the estuary?

- Oh, yeah.
- Good.

I shouldn't think it'll
get you back though.

Have the police come
and see you about that silver?

Yeah.
I could only tell them what I told you.

I found it out there at low tide.
I reckoned it came off a boat.

- I told 'em not to bother.
- Oh, that's all right.

I welcome a bit of company.
Even if it's the law.

- I couldn't sell it as it was stolen.
- Yeah.

One of life's bitter ironies, sir.

- Cheers.
- Cheers, Drummer.

You used to do a bit of coal
carving, didn't you?

Mm!

I still got a few.

You can't get the right sort of coal tar
these days.

I sells them though, now and again.

They're horrible.

Diabolical. I agree.

I saw a coal carving that was so intricate
and clever, it blew me away.

Who would have done it, Drummer?

George Hepplestone.
I knew him well in the old days.

Then he stopped seeing me,
later he made a few bob.

He got too posh.
Never take up with the posh, Lovejoy.

Where does he live?

Lesser Cornhart,
the other side of the estuary.

- He got rich, did he?
- Yeah.

And he didn't make it
carving coal neither.

Lovejoy?

- What the devil are you doing up here?
- Well, I might ask you the same question.

Me? That's my boat, son.

Oh, yes, the Waverley, 32-footer.
Nice little job.

Thought you kept it down Burnham way.

I brought it up for a paint job,
the yard up here is much cheaper.

What are you doing around here anyway?

Taking in the air, Charlie,
it's good for the soul.

I did myself some good this morning.
Bought some Jade, superb.

Look, why don't you drop in tomorrow
and scan it for me.

Hello? Mrs. Hepplestone?

- Yeah.
- Lovejoy.

- Lovejoy Antiques.
- Oh.

I was hoping were the man
we called to fix the Aga.

I can't help you there I'm afraid but I
can tell you if it's an original or not.

Now, what exactly is it that you want?

I'm trying to trace some superb coal carvings
which I think your husband made. Is he around?

My husband died two months
ago, Mr. Lovejoy.

- I'm sorry, I didn't realize.
- That's all right.

It's just that George never sold
any of his carvings

and so I wonder how you came
to know about them.

Oh, an old character called Drummer,
knew your George in the old days.

I've never seen one myself.

I don't think that's strictly true.

No, it's a bloody lie.

See, Nicola's my daughter,
George's step-daughter.

I knew of her visit to you.

We had hoped the carving held
some sort of secret.

But that was our business

and quite honestly I can't see
what business it is of yours.

My business is antiques
and anything as clever

and intricate as that carving
I'm naturally interested in.

I'd still like to make a deal on the cage.

I've got a tickle in London,
pay a few bob - 50/50?

Forget it, Lovejoy. Forget this, too.

- Nicola!
- There's nothing in it, Mother.

- It was for keepsake.
- It's also a work of art.

No one should be allowed to destroy works
of art, not even a spoilt bitch like you.

- Are you Lovejoy?
- Not necessarily.

Don't fart around.
My guv'nor would like to see you.

Mr. Devlin. Just follow me, right?

- You work for Mr. Devlin?
- Right.

Sales manager?

Nice dog.

Yeah, you need a dog like that,
lot of a valuable gear here.

No, I wouldn't know. My business is
antiques, not combine harvesters.

I know sod all about antiques myself.
My late friend George Hepplestone did.

Friend of Hepplestone's, were you?

Yeah. Still a friend of his widow
and his stepdaughter Nicola

and apparently you've been upsetting them
in their hour of grief.

- Is that what they said?
- Never mind what they say or don't say.

You been round there, right?

Just pursuing my trade
with my usual tenacity.

- Just pursue your trade elsewhere.
- Are you threatening me, Mr. Devlin?

Yeah, now piss off!

All right.

Lovejoy Antiques, dealer to the stars.

- What?
- Oh, hello, Lovejoy.

I was just being playful.

I'm not in the mood for jokes.
Anybody call?

A Lady Felsham called,
wants you to get in touch with her.

Lady Felsham? What's that about?

About antiques, I hope.

Unless she's another
of your belles de nuit.

Oh, please.

Yes?

Apparently I have been summoned
by her Ladyship.

- Have you come to repair something?
- Probably the Aga.

Lovejoy.

Jane Felsham.

Sorry about the dirty wellies,
didn't realize it would be so formal.

I'm expecting dinner guests.

You're much more likely to find me
in wellies than in a dress like this.

Your Princess Di outfit was fairly formal.

That little number you wore the other day when
you were unveiling a plaque or something.

You were there?

Passing through.

That outfit was ruined by
some maniacs on a motorcycle.

However, I don't do all
that many unveilings.

Would you like a drink?

I'd love one.

- Could you do the honours?
- Certainly.

Would you like to tell me why I'm here?

"Wanted urgently - English bible box,
oak preferred, 17th century or older.

"Please call Felsham Hall."
Etcetera, etcetera.

I was, naturally, rather confused by this.

I made a few enquiries and discovered
the ad was actually placed by you.

Or rather some associate
of yours called Eric.

Oh, yes. Eric.

An associate of mine
whom I shall later strangle. I'm sorry.

No, it's just a devious little ploy of mine
which wasn't meant to include you.

I imagine it's you who has the bible box?

Know much about antiques, do you?

I'm a decorator.

I do know a little about dealers.
I've heard your name.

I suppose it's surprising we haven't
run across each other before.

Well, actually,
I have ran across you, Lady Felsham.

- Oh?
- On a motorbike.

Cheers.

This place is full of stuff
I've been meaning to get appraised.

Not terribly keen on pewter.
What do you think?

Oh, it's William III.

- Original?
- It screams it, love.

Modern copies don't have that pewter sheen
like a sunset on the marshes.

You're a romantic so and so,
aren't you?

Mm. One of a dying breed.

I think I like you, Lovejoy.

Shall we serve dinner quite soon,
Lord Felsham?

I think I better find my wife
first, Mrs. Cameron.

Mm. Here.

Oh!

Good Lord, we've done a whole Moet!

Jane? What are you doing?

I'm in the attic, Alexander.

Drinking champagne with a total stranger.

Very well, darling, but our guests
are getting rather peckish.

Well, they didn't mark the face
too much, dear heart.

You look no worse than you usually do.

They must have marked me
everywhere else.

Mind you, I didn't feel much last night,
I was half pissed on Lady Jane's champagne.

You told me to pick a name at random.

Yes, drink does deaden pain.

That's one of the reasons
I imbibe so frequently.

At least it showed I'm on to something.

Look, Tink, when I was chasing around
after the firefly cage and the coal carving

I was doing it simply to satisfy
my curiosity and greed.

After I'd seen Mrs. Hepplestone
I was gonna call it a day.

Then I get the shit beaten out of me.

And I thought this antique game
was just about brass rubbings and things.

Now I'm gonna check out Drummer again.

You, find out more about
this George Hepplestone.

Need any help?

Lady Felsham?

Always loved the smell
of the county class.

Expensive perfumes, Range Rovers, manure.

I've always had a thing about
upper-class girls

ever since I picked up a copy of Tatler
in a dentist's waiting room.

All these shiny creatures
with long necks pouting at May balls

and all with names like
Sabrina, Miranda, Natasha.

And where does Lovejoy come from?

Oh, shrouded in mystery, darling.

Apparently you're terribly clever,
from what I've heard.

Which makes me wonder why you're so...

threadbare.

Well, the former Mrs. Lovejoy took
the house and a generous settlement.

I also pay ridiculous school fees
for a daughter who I adore,

lots of deals that got blown,
inland revenue,

it's a long and tragic story.

I suppose it'll have to wait.

- Where do you want me to drop you?
- The estuary.

Where?

- No one at home.
- There's no one out there.

He must be beyond the dunes.

There's a horse and cart.

Should we go to the coastguard station
and get an ambulance?

Too late for that.

The police are on their
way, and an ambulance.

Thank you.

Well, well, well.

You do get around, don't you, Lovejoy?

Never pictured you as a
man of the sea, Devlin.

I've had a boat for years, my son, I
usually park it at St. Marlo or Le Touquet,

it's a bit more placid than round here.

You're been out though?

- You're an inquisitive sod, aren't you?
- Yeah.

Feed it?

I don't think that's asking too much.

Maybe you should give her some exercise,
the cart's optional.

I'm supposed to be learning about antiques.

She's not all that young.

The place I found Drummer
can't be seen from anywhere,

there's a high sand bank that protects
the view from his shack, the marina,

the coast guard, everything.

I'm sorry, Lovejoy.

You've dragged my bum down here before
opening time, I'm not at my brightest.

I know, I know. But I think Drummer
saw something that day

and it's got something to do
with the old gun fort.

- The old what?
- Napoleonic gun fort.

We're gonna have a look at it.
All we need is a boat.

- What do you want?
- Jade, remember?

Ah, yes, right.

I need the keys to Charlie's boat.

- Superb, eh?
- It's jade, old son.

The miracle stone.

What did I tell you?
There's a fortune here, right?

Well, some of it's agate
and those deep leaf green pieces

are curved with one eye on the clock and some
productivity man whining on about output.

But there are some really
lovely pieces, Charlie.

Which pieces? Tell me.

- All right, I'll cancel the cows.
- Thanks and I'd like a drink.

- You owe me one, Lovejoy.
- Indeed I do, Amanda.

What about the coastguard?

He knows me,
I took Drummer in, right?

I'll start her up, you can cast off.

Are you sure you know
how to drive this thing?

Used to have one, a little 22-footer.

But I hate the sea.

If I were to sober up I'd be petrified by the
overwhelming foolishness of this enterprise.

Oh, my God.

Let's do it, sailor.

It's crammed with antiques.

This must be where they stash
the gear from the robberies

until it's picked up
and taken to the continent.

They must have been making a drop
when old Drummer spotted them.

George Hepplestone knew about this place,
he made that coal carving.

He was obviously in on it.

George knew about antiques
and Devlin is the villain

who provided the muscle,
resources and the boat.

We shall of course impart this to
the police and nail the buggers.

Absolutely! We shall of course pick out
one or two choice items first,

- sort of, erm, reward, eh?
- Nobody deserves it more.

Lovejoy.

Lovejoy.

This bleeping flashing
thing, is it a radar?

Yeah.

Well, there's something on it
and it's getting closer.

There.

There's the bastard.

They're gonna kill us, Lovejoy.

You take the wheel.

What are you gonna do? Clean up Charlie's
boat before they blow us all to Kingdom come?

- You've got any booze left in that flask?
- Very little I'm afraid.

This one's full, though.

They're coming in again.

You got a light, Tink?

No, no, I mean a bloody match,
a lighter, anything.

That was the hospital.

Devlin and his couple of boneheads
are comfortable.

Fairly badly burned and bruised.
Otherwise, in the worst of spirits.

Then why the hell are we still here?

We've saved some of the nation's
glorious antiquities.

Saved some of the nation's antiquities
for yourself, didn't you?

Is that what the charge against us is?

That and stealing a boat.

Of course, it's up to Charlie Gimbert
if he wants to press those charges.

There do seem to be several questions
to be answered

regarding the involvement
of you two gentlemen.

We shall therefore defer
to the police request

that you be held in custody
pending further investigations.

I shall of course allow
bail if it is forthcoming.

Excuse me, sir,

- bail has been offered.
- Oh, really?

By whom?

By your wife, sir.

Ah!

Thank you.

I didn't know who else to call.

I'm not sure being your friend
is such a wise move.

Fancy ruddy Lovejoy
knowing that Lady Felsham.

She's the one we just asked to open
our new rifle range.

- Er, Colin?
- What?

Wasn't there a silver powder box?

Charlie Gimbert's just turned up.

Right.

Get the bible box, quick.

- Eh? Why?
- Just get it.

Hello, Charlie.

- You destroyed my boat.
- Only one side of it.

And you said that fellow up here
does a cheap job.

Don't smartarse me, Lovejoy,
you stole that boat

and unless you come up
with the scratch which I know you can't

our charges will stick.

- Oh, give me a break, Charlie.
- Bollocks.

I haven't got anything.

Eric, would you please get rid
of this junk please.

No. No, don't even think of it, Charlie.

Very nice. 17th century?

No, no, no, Charlie,
this is my lifeline,

my, my rainy day, Charlie.

- This is your rainy day, Lovejoy.
- No, you wouldn't.

I would.

- No.
- And drop the charges?

- I haven't got much choice.
- None whatsoever.

This job is amazing.
Totally amazing.