Pennyworth (2019–…): Season 3, Episode 5 - Rhyme 'n' Reason - full transcript
I'm sorry.
- Thomas, don't do this.
See you in hell.
- Drop the gun.
- It's okay, Martha...
- Don't move.
- I was just turning around...
- Put the gun down
first, Thomas.
- I mean it.
Put it down, now.
- Jesus, Martha, relax.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- I had a bad dream.
- Okay.
Well, next time, wake
me up and let me know.
Because I nearly
shot you, Thomas.
It's a great marriage
we got going, huh?
- Yeah.
We have to find a way past this.
It's been a month.
- Any ideas?
- Well...
you can stop acting like
you're scared of me.
- I'm not acting scared of you.
I am scared of you.
- Well, all I can do
is keep telling
you that I'm sorry
and that I will never,
ever, hurt you again.
It wasn't me who attacked you.
It wasn't me.
- I know.
But it was you that chose
your father over me.
At least that's how it feels.
- I didn't!
I made a mistake.
He's my father. I trusted him.
And you lied to me.
- Oh, my God, here we go again.
- Yes, here we go again,
because it was those lies
that started this...
- No, enough, Thomas!
Need to go to sleep.
- Martha, I'm sorry. I...
- Yeah.
Me too.
Make sure you put that gun away.
- Where are you off
to, looking like that?
- What's wrong with
the way I look?
- Nothing, you
look nice, is all.
- Then just say that.
I'm meeting someone.
- Who?
- Do I ask who you're
meeting every time
you walk out the door?
- As a matter of
fact, you do, yeah.
- And you rarely tell me,
which is probably a
blessing, truth be told.
If you must know,
I'm meeting Roger,
and I don't want
to hear about it.
- That bloke who legged
it out of here last month?
- He did no such thing.
- Like a rabbit.
- Can you blame him if he did?
Most people aren't used
to your shenanigans.
- Well, he just
didn't seem to have
much of a constitution,
is all I'm saying.
And you have to admit, it's
pretty poor form he made you
wait so long before
ringing you again.
- He didn't ring
me. I rang him.
- You rang him?
- And why not?
Times are changing.
A woman can ring a man
without the world
coming to an end.
- I was only asking.
And you can see who
you like, obviously.
- Well, thank you very much.
By the way, while you were
having a nice long kip,
the Prime Minister's
Office called.
They want to see you
as soon as possible.
- Really? He say what about?
- No, and I didn't ask.
- Why not?
- Because I'm not you're
bleedin' secretary.
- Mm.
- Is everything all right?
You're not mixed up
with anything, are you?
- Not that I know of.
Business has been a
bit slow as of late.
Would be nice if he was
calling about a job.
- Oh.
I'm sure it will
work itself out.
I'm off.
There's bread for
toast if you're hungry.
- Mum.
You look lovely.
- Thank you, Alfie.
- Hm.
- Good afternoon, young lady.
What seems to be the problem?
- Oh, no problem.
- Hello, Mrs. G.
- Well, I'll be damned.
Mai Lin, thank you.
Come, come.
Well, Bet Sykes.
How are you, my dear?
- Well enough. You?
- Oh, I'm in fine fettle.
I rather thought
you'd be dead by now,
given the way that you carry on.
- Never better, me.
- I heard about
the former Ravens
being murdered. That
was you, I suppose.
- Murdered? No.
Put down, I call
it.
- Well, how on Earth
did you track them down?
Well, how did you track
me down, for that matter?
- A little something I
took from Miss Vixen.
- I see.
And this is her baby, is it?
- Julie.
Sweet, isn't she?
- Yes, she is.
Oh, Bet. Really?
- Never you mind her.
We've business to discuss.
- I can't possibly
see what business
we might have at this point.
- John Salt, of course. I
need to know where he is.
- I'm afraid I
can't tell you that.
- Can't or won't?
- Won't, to be more precise.
I know where he is,
and I won't tell you.
- You'll tell us,
or I'll shoot you.
Don't think I won't.
- I do think you won't.
- How's that, then?
- You're not a monster, Bet.
You're just a
misguided young woman,
but not a monster.
Now, would you
like a cup of tea?
- Go on, then.
Proper tea, mind. None of
that Earl Grey rubbish.
- All right.
- Ah, Mr. Prime Minister.
- Alfred.
- Busy around here.
- The summit starts next
week, but Commonwealth leaders
have already begun to arrive,
so I'm quite pressed for time.
- Well, I've got quite
a busy schedule myself,
but I was glad you called.
Thought you might
still be cross with me
for breaking Thomas
Wayne out of the Tower.
Not that I'm saying I did.
Papers say all
sorts, don't they?
- I should have you arrested.
No doubt you'll be back
behind bars at some point,
but until then, your
services can be useful.
- Fair play.
What kind of services
did you have in mind?
- What do you know about the
island nation of Kalpoor?
- Not much.
Used to be a colony
of ours, didn't it?
- Yeah. Well, after gaining
their independence
ten years ago,
their government has
faced intense opposition
from a radical separatist group
known as the Kalpoor
Freedom Party,
which controls several districts
in the southern
end of the island.
They're led by a woman
named Zahra Khin,
who arrived in London yesterday.
- She's here for the summit?
- Not officially, no.
Miss Khin is considered
a political dissident
and enemy combatant
of the recognized
government of Kalpoor,
which is why my office
cannot be involved with
what I need you to do.
- But all due respect,
Prime Minister,
I'm not in the business
of eliminating
political dissidents.
- Neither is the
British government.
Miss Khin is here to
speak with the president
of Kalpoor in hopes a
truce can be arranged.
I need somebody outside
official channels
to look after her
during her stay.
- Happy to help.
Foreign diplomats
is extra, of course.
- Of course.
- My father was a
man of the people.
And the people of Kalpoor have
been abandoned by a government
that claims independence
whilst allowing the yoke
of British colonialism to
remain around our necks
in order to line
their own pockets.
- I see we're off to
a passionate start.
- Prime Minister.
These talks are a waste of time,
as I told you they would be.
Miss Khin's only goal is to
destabilize my country...
- It's not your country.
- And overthrow my government.
This meeting is over.
She's no different
than her father.
- Thank you, Mr. President.
Such a lovely compliment.
- I thought we were here to find
common ground, Miss Khin.
- Oh, one doesn't
find common ground
with a python, Prime Minister.
Only a lack of air.
- May I introduce
Mr. Alfred Pennyworth,
a private security consultant
I thought could act
as a guide while
you're in London.
- Pleased to meet you, madam.
- Do I look like I'm
here to see Big Ben
and Trafalgar Square?
- You should.
The fountains and
the bronze reliefs
were made from French cannon.
They're... quite beautiful.
- Prime Minister.
- While on British soil,
your safety is my
responsibility.
- Her safety is my
responsibility, sir.
And I don't need help from a
British security consultant
who is, no doubt,
reporting back to you.
- Mr. Win is right.
If you want someone
to spy on me,
you're gonna have to
try harder than that.
- Well I guess
that's that, then.
- Miss Khin's views on
the matter are irrelevant.
Follow her.
- Spy on her?
- Watch out for her.
The eyes of the world are
on us during the summit,
and I can't have any surprises.
Any questions?
- Protection is one
price. Spying's extra.
- Of course.
- I'll get it.
- Thanks, Gladys.
Oh, hello.
- Hello.
Guess who's back.
- Ah, Patricia.
- Thomas.
- Hi.
- Hello, Martha.
- Hi.
When did you get into town?
- Just now, I would have called,
but thought I'd surprise you.
- Yeah, uh. It worked!
- How are you guys?
It feels like it's been forever.
- We're good, yeah. Thomas?
- Yeah. Yes, we are.
We're good!
What are you doing here?
Uh... in London, I mean.
- I am in town for the new
Francis Fuchs art installation.
- Oh.
- Lovely.
- You have no idea
who Francis Fuchs is, do you?
Of course you don't.
You have busy lives and
a daughter to raise.
Where is my niece, anyhow?
I brought her a great present.
Her ears are pierced, right?
- Oh, no.
- Oh. Well, I could
pierce them for her.
- Oh, no, no, no.
- So, um... where
are you staying?
- Well, here, of
course. Where else?
Hm.
- I have to admit, I
was somewhat surprised
you called me, Mary.
- Well, you didn't
leave me much choice.
I waited for a month,
and when you didn't ring,
I thought you must
have been scared off.
- I was a little
worried. I'm sorry.
- Don't be.
It's why I wanted to
talk to you today.
Try and explain things.
- I appreciate that.
While I'm sure
there's an explanation
for most of what I
saw, I just don't know
if I'm the kind of chap
you're looking for.
- Are you sure we don't have
that the wrong way around?
- Just think we might
be chalk and cheese.
- Maybe we are.
Maybe we aren't.
Life's short.
Why not find out?
Anyway, if you don't think
it's worth giving it a go,
no harm done, and I wish
you the best of luck.
- Wait.
Don't go.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe.
- Well, be still
my beating heart.
- I'd love to keep
talking with you, Mary.
If that's all right?
- Yeah.
- Boy, pay attention.
- Sorry.
- Since when do you read books?
- Sally gave it to
me. It's about art.
- Good, is it?
- I couldn't tell you.
Can't understand much.
- So why you reading it, then?
- I'm thinking she's
gonna be asking questions.
- What, she gives you homework?
- Ha-ha.
- Hang about.
- Get down!
Arjun!
Arjun!
Take cover!
Fuck!
It's all right. Look at me.
- She's got guts.
- I'll grab her and meet
you back at the pub.
- Stay with me!
It's okay.
- He's gone.
Well, come on, then. Come on.
Let's go.
- How long has it been
since you've had a
good night's sleep?
- Babies are right
nuisances, aren't they?
- Yes.
- Why won't you tell
us where Salt is?
- Because he's not worth
the trouble or the danger.
- That's my business.
What do you care?
- I care about you, Bet.
You saved my life, and
in a dispassionate,
Christian sort of way,
one might say I love you.
- Get out.
- I don't want to see you
get hurt.
- Well, that's very nice,
I'm sure, but I'll not stop
just because you've
got a soft spot for us.
I'll keep looking for
Salt no matter what.
You could save us a
lot of bother, though.
That's all.
- I'll tell you what.
I'll give you John Salt
if you give me Julie.
- What?
- Salt for Julie.
You cannot take her around,
killing people willy-nilly.
What sort of upbringing is that?
I can give her a good
and safe home, and you?
Well, you can have
your vengeance.
Why not?
You said yourself
she's a right nuisance.
- She's a fucking
nightmare, but...
- But?
- No.
No, I won't give her up.
- Why not? You know
it makes sense.
- Because. That's
why, because.
- Because you love her.
And you can see a
future for yourself
as her mother, more
important than vengeance,
better than hatred
and bloodlust.
- All right.
I admit it.
I love her.
But that's not why
I'm keeping her.
I won't give her up
because I'm stubborn,
and I won't let the likes of you
tell me right from wrong.
You wouldn't know
the first thing
about hatred and bloodlust.
I know.
I know in here.
- Bet, my dear...
- I am what I am.
And I'll keep Julie, and
I'll keep spilling blood
until I find Salt and kill him.
And that's that.
Thanks for the tea.
- Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Here.
- What's this?
- A lesser of two evils.
- Eh?
- Salt's whereabouts.
- I can't make head
nor tail of it.
You call that writing?
- Here you are.
- You're all right, Mrs. G.
- Now, be very careful.
And let this be the
last one, please.
No more bloodshed.
- Promise.
- Hear that, Julie? Job on.
- All right, come on.
This way.
Right.
How are you, then, okay?
- I'm fine. It's
not the first time
a government has
tried to kill me.
- How do you know it was them?
- It's neither mine nor
yours, not that it matters.
I need to go to my hotel.
- No, that's not a good idea.
Those men knew where
you were going to be.
Someone's giving them
your private schedule.
Now, come on.
- If you're not taking me
to my hotel, where
are you taking me?
- Well, there's
strong public support
for isolating the PWEs
from the general population
as a protective measure,
to ensure their
safety, and ours.
Well, let's get some
reaction from...
- A public house?
This is your safe place?
- Trust me.
This particular pub is one of
the safest places in London.
This way.
- Zahra Khin, Mr. Chadley,
one of my associates.
- A pleasure, madam.
- Call whoever you need.
Just don't tell
anyone you're here.
- Thank you.
Privacy, please.
- The PM's office is
ringing every ten minutes,
asking for you.
Who's the lady?
- Rebel leader, sort of thing.
In town for the summit.
- Take special care.
- Eh?
- Special care.
- What do you mean?
- She's trouble.
- Isn't she, though?
- So...
how long do you think
you'll be staying with us?
- I don't know. Why?
- No reason. Just, um...
Well, with... what
with work and Samantha,
things can get a little
hectic around here.
- You don't want me
to stay with you?
- No.
It's not that we don't
want you to stay.
- Yeah. We just...
we just know
that you value your own space.
- What's going on?
Are you guys' fighting?
- No.
Why would you say that?
- Yeah, we're not fighting,
and even if we were, it'd
be none of your concern.
- Whatever.
Dad said you were acting weird,
and he was right.
- Weird?
Dad said I was acting weird?
- Something like that.
You know I don't listen
very closely to him.
- Son of a bitch.
- Why? Did he do
something wrong?
What?
Did he not give you enough hugs?
You've always been so sensitive
when it comes to that.
- Okay, drop it.
- Well, at least
he made the effort
flying over here to see you.
He barely acknowledges
that I'm alive.
- You want to know
what happened?
What he did?
I'll tell...
- Thomas.
- He gave me an experimental
mind control drug
that he developed with the CIA
so that I would kill Martha
in order to save his skin.
- Whoa! Okay, that's not cool.
- So please don't
mention him again.
- You don't have to
be so melodramatic.
- He tried to make
me kill my own wife!
- But you didn't, did you?
She's sitting right there.
All's well that
ends well, right?
- I guess she has a point.
- So you're a real
doctor now, huh?
I'm so proud of you.
You can write
prescriptions? Huh?
- Seriously, can you?
- The prime minister wants
me to escort you to Whitehall
to discuss your official
protection detail.
- Does he now?
- He does.
For your safety.
- This isn't about my safety.
It's about bad press during
his precious little summit.
- That don't change the
fact your life's in danger.
- My life has been in
danger since the day
I took over from my father.
He gave his life
for his country.
I'm willing to do the same.
- Yeah, but willing and eager
are two different things.
Anyway, come on. We should go.
- I'm not going to Whitehall
until I find out
who the traitor is.
- Well, how are you
planning on doing that?
- Simple enough. I told
my people where I am.
- I told you not to do that.
- I know. That's what
gave me the idea.
If there is a traitor, they'll
want to finish the job.
- Yeah.
- So I've given them
a chance to do that.
We have the advantage.
We know they're coming.
- We?
- My head of security
will be here any minute.
- Smashing.
- Is Plumstead nice?
- Our flat is...
Sorry, my flat is
near the common.
Good birdwatching.
I still say "our"
and "we" a lot.
I'm trying to get
better at that.
- My Arthur's been
gone for five years,
and I still find myself
talking to his photograph.
I could barely get a word
in when we were married.
Silver lining, I suppose.
- When my wife ran off,
I told myself it
was no one's fault,
that we just weren't
right for each other.
But the truth is, she
wanted more out of life,
and for some reason, I didn't.
But you know what?
Now I do.
I want more, Mary.
Would you give me
another chance?
- I'm not sure you're up
for an interesting life.
- Try me. I'll show you.
- How's your dancing?
- Where's Zahra Khin?!
Bring her out, or
we start shooting!
- All this fuss and
only two of you?
- I'm not fucking about!
- I'm afraid you are.
- Drop your guns and take
off those fucking masks.
- Hey, Alfie.
- Fuck's sake. Gary.
You know this is my pub?
- Sorry, Alfie.
It's just a job.
You know it goes.
- Yeah. How's your mum?
- Not bad.
Her arthritis has
been acting up.
You gonna kill us?
- Nah.
We'll have a pint, see
what you can tell us.
- No. These men need to die.
- Easy, mate, lower your gun.
- I don't take orders from you.
- All right, Miss Khin,
please tell your man
to lower his weapon.
- My driver's dead
because of them.
He had children, a family.
- Yeah, look, I
understand, but this is
my bar, so I make the rules.
- So they just get away with it?
- No.
But they might be
able to tell us
who betrayed you.
- I already know.
I knew the minute
they showed up.
I am so disappointed
in you, Win.
- What?
No! These people
have been filling
your head with lies.
I will kill them all
where they stand.
- Stop!
You were the only person
I gave this location to.
I didn't want to believe it.
But somehow I just knew.
Why did you do this?
How could you betray
what we believed in?
What my father believed in?
Answer me!
- Because I can't feed
my family with belief.
It has been ten years,
and nothing has changed.
They deserve more from me.
- So did I.
Who put you up to this?
- I said I was not
to be disturbed!
- Oh, my God.
You were a prisoner in
the Tower of London?
That's crazy.
- Yes, it is.
- Okay.
I guess Dad is, like,
totally beyond not cool.
No wonder you're mad at him.
So what are you gonna do?
- What can I do?
- I don't know. You're
asking my advice?
You're the smart one.
- Right.
- That's me.
I've allowed this thing
to tear my family apart.
What kind of a man
lets his own father do this
without any consequences?
- You, apparently.
- Rhetorical question,
Pat, but thanks.
- I'm here for you, brother.
- I don't know what to do, Pat.
I don't know.
- Oh, well. There's my ride.
I'm sure you'll figure it out.
You always do.
- I thought you said this
was a new art exhibit.
- It is.
- Where the fuck's the art?
- Here he is.
- My friends.
We live in the moment of history
in which the commodity of art
threatens to complete
its colonization of social life,
in which we have gone from being
into having, and having
into merely appearing,
until we become the
commodity itself.
Which is why, I tonight...
I give you not art,
not simulation,
not a representation of reality,
but reality itself.
And wet.
- Wait here.
Clear.
I've posted men on the
corners and the entrances.
You keep these closed.
I'll be in the lobby
if you need anything.
- I'm sure I'll be fine.
No reason for you to spend
all night in the lobby.
- Just a precaution.
No plans, anyhow.
- I'm gonna drink now.
Perhaps you care to join?
- Thank you, miss.
Rules are simple.
Every card in the deck has
a pair, except for one,
the dirty queen,
which is cursed.
I
know how she feels.
- We take her out of
the deck and then deal
the rest of the cards.
Then discard any pairs
you have, and the cards
you have left is your hand.
- Okay. And then?
- Then we start drawing
from each other's hands,
and whoever's left with
the dirty queen loses.
- I think I can follow that.
Thanks for sticking around.
- Want to make sure
there's no blowback
from the care package
we dropped off
at your president's hotel.
- Yeah.
- I know that kind
of betrayal is tough,
but you shouldn't
let it get to you.
- Shouldn't I?
- Everyone has a price.
It's the way of the world.
I don't have a price.
My father didn't have a price.
Just because men
like Win and you do
doesn't make it right.
- I charge for my services,
but my honor isn't for sale.
For rent, maybe,
but not for sale.
- You said everyone's
got a price.
Maybe no one's found yours yet.
- Possibly.
It's over a million
quid, anyhow.
- Oh yeah? How's that?
- Someone offered
me a million quid
to do something naughty,
and I walked away.
- You walked away
from a million pounds?
- Yeah.
Can we change the subject?
- What did they want you to do?
- Break someone out of
prison, which I did,
and put them on a plane,
which I didn't.
- Why not?
- They didn't want to go.
- That's it?
- Most decisions
aren't complicated.
Just comes down to
what you can live with.
Who you want to see when
you look in the mirror.
- And what do you see?
- An idiot who walked
away from a million quid.
- What did you
think of the show?
- I think I'm covered in paint.
- I'm serious.
- So am I. This was
an expensive jacket.
Fuck. Wanted to chin the man.
- You don't understand
social commentary.
- Obviously, I don't, no.
- I care about this
stuff, Dave Boy.
I want you to care
about it as well.
- Well, I'm here,
aren't I? I'm trying.
- What if there was
something you could take
to expand your mind,
get in touch with
your inner artist?
- I've seen all the hippies
dancing about on LSD.
I don't think that's for me.
- This is something new.
Francis told me about it.
It connects people in a profound
and spiritual level,
like sharing a dream.
- Last dream I had, I
was naked as a baby,
driving a double-decker bus
'round and 'round
Trafalgar Square.
- What do you say?
You wanna share a
dream with me tonight?
- Fuck it.
Why not?
Cheers.
Good Lord.
- Forgive me, Doctor.
I couldn't resist.
You looked so
delightfully nervous.
- Mr. Fuchs, I would never
have agreed to help you
if I'd known it
was your intention
to use Lullaby in this manner.
- And what manner is that?
- Lullaby was designed
as a mind control drug,
to strip away an
individual's defenses
and provide a blank canvas,
but we have to then
give a structure,
a blueprint.
- Or what?
- That's just it. Who knows
what a completely
unfettered psyche
might dream up on its own?
Could be anything.
- Yes, and isn't that wonderful?
- But...
- You see a blank
canvas, Doctor,
and think anarchy.
I see one and think freedom.
- How many did you give it to?
- Just a small dose
to a few special souls.
Don't worry.
This is only the beginning.
- The beginning of what?
And why the mask?
What are you planning?
- You'll see, Doctor.
All in good time.
You'll see.
- Do you sleep with all
your female clients?
- Well, word of mouth
plays a big part
in attracting new clients,
so I like to do what I can.
- Oh.
Risky move.
Could backfire.
- Well, I never thought of that.
- Sorry about your driver.
You did everything you could.
- There was nothing to do.
The bullet must have
hit his carotid artery
for rapid blood loss like that.
- You sound like a doctor.
- I almost was one.
I was in medical school when
my father was assassinated.
Felt like my whole world
ended in that single moment.
But I had to keep his work going
for the people of Kalpoor.
For him.
For me.
What about you?
- Me?
I live with me mum.
My dad passed away
five years ago.
- Sorry.
- You two would have gotten
along well, I imagine.
- Why's that?
- Shared interest.
He tried to blow up
the queen and overthrow
the government, for starters.
- I remember reading
about an attack
on the queen before
the civil war.
That was your father?
- He was a man of
his convictions,
I'll give him that.
I actually had to shoot him
to try and stop it.
- You shot your own dad?
- I couldn't let all
those people die.
- Is there anyone you can trust?
- I'd trust my best
mate with me life.
You?
- I haven't trusted
anyone since my Dad died.
But I think I can
trust you, Alfie.
I didn't come here
for the summit.
- Well, what did you
come here for then?
- To meet someone.
A man who says my
father's still alive.
- But you said he
was assassinated.
- Because that's
what I was told.
But we never recovered
a body, which means
there is a chance
that he's alive.
- Well, there's a better
chance it's a shakedown...
Or worse, a setup.
- Yeah, I know.
But it's my father
we're talking about.
- Well, what do
they say happened?
- That ten years ago, he
was kidnapped in Morocco.
He was then taken overseas
and has been locked up
in a secret location
ever since.
And this man?
He knows where.
Jesus.
- Oh, no, no, no,
no, no. That's twice.
Dave Boy?
You look like hell, mate.
I'm pleased you're
here, as it goes.
I need to talk to
you about somebody.
- Sure, sure.
- You don't look so good.
Are you sure you're okay?
- Oh, yeah.
I don't really feel myself.
But I'll be all right.
What's... What's going on?
- Do you remember a mission
we pulled about ten years ago?
Kidnapped a political
dissident in Morocco?
- Uh. Not really, no, why?
- I think the guy we
grabbed was Zahra's father.
- Aye? That's...
That's not good.
- No.
Not good.
- Thomas?
- Mr. Wayne?
- Morning.
- May I stow your bag?
- I'll keep it with me, thanks.
- Of course, sir.
We'll be landing in Gotham
at 8:00 a.m. local time.
Welcome aboard.
- How about a
smile for Mr. Bear?
You know he's your favorite.
Come on.
Well, well.
And there he is.
Mr. John Salt.
You hold Mr. Bear.
Mommy's got work to do.
- Bet Sykes.
I thought that was you.
- John Salt.
I've been looking for
you for a long time.
- And now you found me.
May I ask how?
- Ask away. Fat lot
of good it'll do you.
- Well, I suppose you found me
through one of those Ravens
you tortured and killed.
That was you, was it?
- Guilty.
Any last words?
Not that there's anyone
around to hear them,
or that I give a bloody damn.
Hmm.
This is for Lord Harwood. A
finer gentleman never lived.
You weren't fit
to lick his boots.
- Lord Harwood was a
weak-minded old fool
who got what he deserved.
- Right, you've had your say.
- You should know
I'm not the man I was.
- Hmm, reformed are ya?
- You could call it that.
Remade, redeemed. Remodeled.
- Bullocks.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Did the loud noise scare you?
The bad man's gone now.
There, there.
- Bloody hell.
- I did warn you.
I'm not the man I was.
- Thomas, don't do this.
See you in hell.
- Drop the gun.
- It's okay, Martha...
- Don't move.
- I was just turning around...
- Put the gun down
first, Thomas.
- I mean it.
Put it down, now.
- Jesus, Martha, relax.
- What the fuck are you doing?
- I had a bad dream.
- Okay.
Well, next time, wake
me up and let me know.
Because I nearly
shot you, Thomas.
It's a great marriage
we got going, huh?
- Yeah.
We have to find a way past this.
It's been a month.
- Any ideas?
- Well...
you can stop acting like
you're scared of me.
- I'm not acting scared of you.
I am scared of you.
- Well, all I can do
is keep telling
you that I'm sorry
and that I will never,
ever, hurt you again.
It wasn't me who attacked you.
It wasn't me.
- I know.
But it was you that chose
your father over me.
At least that's how it feels.
- I didn't!
I made a mistake.
He's my father. I trusted him.
And you lied to me.
- Oh, my God, here we go again.
- Yes, here we go again,
because it was those lies
that started this...
- No, enough, Thomas!
Need to go to sleep.
- Martha, I'm sorry. I...
- Yeah.
Me too.
Make sure you put that gun away.
- Where are you off
to, looking like that?
- What's wrong with
the way I look?
- Nothing, you
look nice, is all.
- Then just say that.
I'm meeting someone.
- Who?
- Do I ask who you're
meeting every time
you walk out the door?
- As a matter of
fact, you do, yeah.
- And you rarely tell me,
which is probably a
blessing, truth be told.
If you must know,
I'm meeting Roger,
and I don't want
to hear about it.
- That bloke who legged
it out of here last month?
- He did no such thing.
- Like a rabbit.
- Can you blame him if he did?
Most people aren't used
to your shenanigans.
- Well, he just
didn't seem to have
much of a constitution,
is all I'm saying.
And you have to admit, it's
pretty poor form he made you
wait so long before
ringing you again.
- He didn't ring
me. I rang him.
- You rang him?
- And why not?
Times are changing.
A woman can ring a man
without the world
coming to an end.
- I was only asking.
And you can see who
you like, obviously.
- Well, thank you very much.
By the way, while you were
having a nice long kip,
the Prime Minister's
Office called.
They want to see you
as soon as possible.
- Really? He say what about?
- No, and I didn't ask.
- Why not?
- Because I'm not you're
bleedin' secretary.
- Mm.
- Is everything all right?
You're not mixed up
with anything, are you?
- Not that I know of.
Business has been a
bit slow as of late.
Would be nice if he was
calling about a job.
- Oh.
I'm sure it will
work itself out.
I'm off.
There's bread for
toast if you're hungry.
- Mum.
You look lovely.
- Thank you, Alfie.
- Hm.
- Good afternoon, young lady.
What seems to be the problem?
- Oh, no problem.
- Hello, Mrs. G.
- Well, I'll be damned.
Mai Lin, thank you.
Come, come.
Well, Bet Sykes.
How are you, my dear?
- Well enough. You?
- Oh, I'm in fine fettle.
I rather thought
you'd be dead by now,
given the way that you carry on.
- Never better, me.
- I heard about
the former Ravens
being murdered. That
was you, I suppose.
- Murdered? No.
Put down, I call
it.
- Well, how on Earth
did you track them down?
Well, how did you track
me down, for that matter?
- A little something I
took from Miss Vixen.
- I see.
And this is her baby, is it?
- Julie.
Sweet, isn't she?
- Yes, she is.
Oh, Bet. Really?
- Never you mind her.
We've business to discuss.
- I can't possibly
see what business
we might have at this point.
- John Salt, of course. I
need to know where he is.
- I'm afraid I
can't tell you that.
- Can't or won't?
- Won't, to be more precise.
I know where he is,
and I won't tell you.
- You'll tell us,
or I'll shoot you.
Don't think I won't.
- I do think you won't.
- How's that, then?
- You're not a monster, Bet.
You're just a
misguided young woman,
but not a monster.
Now, would you
like a cup of tea?
- Go on, then.
Proper tea, mind. None of
that Earl Grey rubbish.
- All right.
- Ah, Mr. Prime Minister.
- Alfred.
- Busy around here.
- The summit starts next
week, but Commonwealth leaders
have already begun to arrive,
so I'm quite pressed for time.
- Well, I've got quite
a busy schedule myself,
but I was glad you called.
Thought you might
still be cross with me
for breaking Thomas
Wayne out of the Tower.
Not that I'm saying I did.
Papers say all
sorts, don't they?
- I should have you arrested.
No doubt you'll be back
behind bars at some point,
but until then, your
services can be useful.
- Fair play.
What kind of services
did you have in mind?
- What do you know about the
island nation of Kalpoor?
- Not much.
Used to be a colony
of ours, didn't it?
- Yeah. Well, after gaining
their independence
ten years ago,
their government has
faced intense opposition
from a radical separatist group
known as the Kalpoor
Freedom Party,
which controls several districts
in the southern
end of the island.
They're led by a woman
named Zahra Khin,
who arrived in London yesterday.
- She's here for the summit?
- Not officially, no.
Miss Khin is considered
a political dissident
and enemy combatant
of the recognized
government of Kalpoor,
which is why my office
cannot be involved with
what I need you to do.
- But all due respect,
Prime Minister,
I'm not in the business
of eliminating
political dissidents.
- Neither is the
British government.
Miss Khin is here to
speak with the president
of Kalpoor in hopes a
truce can be arranged.
I need somebody outside
official channels
to look after her
during her stay.
- Happy to help.
Foreign diplomats
is extra, of course.
- Of course.
- My father was a
man of the people.
And the people of Kalpoor have
been abandoned by a government
that claims independence
whilst allowing the yoke
of British colonialism to
remain around our necks
in order to line
their own pockets.
- I see we're off to
a passionate start.
- Prime Minister.
These talks are a waste of time,
as I told you they would be.
Miss Khin's only goal is to
destabilize my country...
- It's not your country.
- And overthrow my government.
This meeting is over.
She's no different
than her father.
- Thank you, Mr. President.
Such a lovely compliment.
- I thought we were here to find
common ground, Miss Khin.
- Oh, one doesn't
find common ground
with a python, Prime Minister.
Only a lack of air.
- May I introduce
Mr. Alfred Pennyworth,
a private security consultant
I thought could act
as a guide while
you're in London.
- Pleased to meet you, madam.
- Do I look like I'm
here to see Big Ben
and Trafalgar Square?
- You should.
The fountains and
the bronze reliefs
were made from French cannon.
They're... quite beautiful.
- Prime Minister.
- While on British soil,
your safety is my
responsibility.
- Her safety is my
responsibility, sir.
And I don't need help from a
British security consultant
who is, no doubt,
reporting back to you.
- Mr. Win is right.
If you want someone
to spy on me,
you're gonna have to
try harder than that.
- Well I guess
that's that, then.
- Miss Khin's views on
the matter are irrelevant.
Follow her.
- Spy on her?
- Watch out for her.
The eyes of the world are
on us during the summit,
and I can't have any surprises.
Any questions?
- Protection is one
price. Spying's extra.
- Of course.
- I'll get it.
- Thanks, Gladys.
Oh, hello.
- Hello.
Guess who's back.
- Ah, Patricia.
- Thomas.
- Hi.
- Hello, Martha.
- Hi.
When did you get into town?
- Just now, I would have called,
but thought I'd surprise you.
- Yeah, uh. It worked!
- How are you guys?
It feels like it's been forever.
- We're good, yeah. Thomas?
- Yeah. Yes, we are.
We're good!
What are you doing here?
Uh... in London, I mean.
- I am in town for the new
Francis Fuchs art installation.
- Oh.
- Lovely.
- You have no idea
who Francis Fuchs is, do you?
Of course you don't.
You have busy lives and
a daughter to raise.
Where is my niece, anyhow?
I brought her a great present.
Her ears are pierced, right?
- Oh, no.
- Oh. Well, I could
pierce them for her.
- Oh, no, no, no.
- So, um... where
are you staying?
- Well, here, of
course. Where else?
Hm.
- I have to admit, I
was somewhat surprised
you called me, Mary.
- Well, you didn't
leave me much choice.
I waited for a month,
and when you didn't ring,
I thought you must
have been scared off.
- I was a little
worried. I'm sorry.
- Don't be.
It's why I wanted to
talk to you today.
Try and explain things.
- I appreciate that.
While I'm sure
there's an explanation
for most of what I
saw, I just don't know
if I'm the kind of chap
you're looking for.
- Are you sure we don't have
that the wrong way around?
- Just think we might
be chalk and cheese.
- Maybe we are.
Maybe we aren't.
Life's short.
Why not find out?
Anyway, if you don't think
it's worth giving it a go,
no harm done, and I wish
you the best of luck.
- Wait.
Don't go.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe.
- Well, be still
my beating heart.
- I'd love to keep
talking with you, Mary.
If that's all right?
- Yeah.
- Boy, pay attention.
- Sorry.
- Since when do you read books?
- Sally gave it to
me. It's about art.
- Good, is it?
- I couldn't tell you.
Can't understand much.
- So why you reading it, then?
- I'm thinking she's
gonna be asking questions.
- What, she gives you homework?
- Ha-ha.
- Hang about.
- Get down!
Arjun!
Arjun!
Take cover!
Fuck!
It's all right. Look at me.
- She's got guts.
- I'll grab her and meet
you back at the pub.
- Stay with me!
It's okay.
- He's gone.
Well, come on, then. Come on.
Let's go.
- How long has it been
since you've had a
good night's sleep?
- Babies are right
nuisances, aren't they?
- Yes.
- Why won't you tell
us where Salt is?
- Because he's not worth
the trouble or the danger.
- That's my business.
What do you care?
- I care about you, Bet.
You saved my life, and
in a dispassionate,
Christian sort of way,
one might say I love you.
- Get out.
- I don't want to see you
get hurt.
- Well, that's very nice,
I'm sure, but I'll not stop
just because you've
got a soft spot for us.
I'll keep looking for
Salt no matter what.
You could save us a
lot of bother, though.
That's all.
- I'll tell you what.
I'll give you John Salt
if you give me Julie.
- What?
- Salt for Julie.
You cannot take her around,
killing people willy-nilly.
What sort of upbringing is that?
I can give her a good
and safe home, and you?
Well, you can have
your vengeance.
Why not?
You said yourself
she's a right nuisance.
- She's a fucking
nightmare, but...
- But?
- No.
No, I won't give her up.
- Why not? You know
it makes sense.
- Because. That's
why, because.
- Because you love her.
And you can see a
future for yourself
as her mother, more
important than vengeance,
better than hatred
and bloodlust.
- All right.
I admit it.
I love her.
But that's not why
I'm keeping her.
I won't give her up
because I'm stubborn,
and I won't let the likes of you
tell me right from wrong.
You wouldn't know
the first thing
about hatred and bloodlust.
I know.
I know in here.
- Bet, my dear...
- I am what I am.
And I'll keep Julie, and
I'll keep spilling blood
until I find Salt and kill him.
And that's that.
Thanks for the tea.
- Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Here.
- What's this?
- A lesser of two evils.
- Eh?
- Salt's whereabouts.
- I can't make head
nor tail of it.
You call that writing?
- Here you are.
- You're all right, Mrs. G.
- Now, be very careful.
And let this be the
last one, please.
No more bloodshed.
- Promise.
- Hear that, Julie? Job on.
- All right, come on.
This way.
Right.
How are you, then, okay?
- I'm fine. It's
not the first time
a government has
tried to kill me.
- How do you know it was them?
- It's neither mine nor
yours, not that it matters.
I need to go to my hotel.
- No, that's not a good idea.
Those men knew where
you were going to be.
Someone's giving them
your private schedule.
Now, come on.
- If you're not taking me
to my hotel, where
are you taking me?
- Well, there's
strong public support
for isolating the PWEs
from the general population
as a protective measure,
to ensure their
safety, and ours.
Well, let's get some
reaction from...
- A public house?
This is your safe place?
- Trust me.
This particular pub is one of
the safest places in London.
This way.
- Zahra Khin, Mr. Chadley,
one of my associates.
- A pleasure, madam.
- Call whoever you need.
Just don't tell
anyone you're here.
- Thank you.
Privacy, please.
- The PM's office is
ringing every ten minutes,
asking for you.
Who's the lady?
- Rebel leader, sort of thing.
In town for the summit.
- Take special care.
- Eh?
- Special care.
- What do you mean?
- She's trouble.
- Isn't she, though?
- So...
how long do you think
you'll be staying with us?
- I don't know. Why?
- No reason. Just, um...
Well, with... what
with work and Samantha,
things can get a little
hectic around here.
- You don't want me
to stay with you?
- No.
It's not that we don't
want you to stay.
- Yeah. We just...
we just know
that you value your own space.
- What's going on?
Are you guys' fighting?
- No.
Why would you say that?
- Yeah, we're not fighting,
and even if we were, it'd
be none of your concern.
- Whatever.
Dad said you were acting weird,
and he was right.
- Weird?
Dad said I was acting weird?
- Something like that.
You know I don't listen
very closely to him.
- Son of a bitch.
- Why? Did he do
something wrong?
What?
Did he not give you enough hugs?
You've always been so sensitive
when it comes to that.
- Okay, drop it.
- Well, at least
he made the effort
flying over here to see you.
He barely acknowledges
that I'm alive.
- You want to know
what happened?
What he did?
I'll tell...
- Thomas.
- He gave me an experimental
mind control drug
that he developed with the CIA
so that I would kill Martha
in order to save his skin.
- Whoa! Okay, that's not cool.
- So please don't
mention him again.
- You don't have to
be so melodramatic.
- He tried to make
me kill my own wife!
- But you didn't, did you?
She's sitting right there.
All's well that
ends well, right?
- I guess she has a point.
- So you're a real
doctor now, huh?
I'm so proud of you.
You can write
prescriptions? Huh?
- Seriously, can you?
- The prime minister wants
me to escort you to Whitehall
to discuss your official
protection detail.
- Does he now?
- He does.
For your safety.
- This isn't about my safety.
It's about bad press during
his precious little summit.
- That don't change the
fact your life's in danger.
- My life has been in
danger since the day
I took over from my father.
He gave his life
for his country.
I'm willing to do the same.
- Yeah, but willing and eager
are two different things.
Anyway, come on. We should go.
- I'm not going to Whitehall
until I find out
who the traitor is.
- Well, how are you
planning on doing that?
- Simple enough. I told
my people where I am.
- I told you not to do that.
- I know. That's what
gave me the idea.
If there is a traitor, they'll
want to finish the job.
- Yeah.
- So I've given them
a chance to do that.
We have the advantage.
We know they're coming.
- We?
- My head of security
will be here any minute.
- Smashing.
- Is Plumstead nice?
- Our flat is...
Sorry, my flat is
near the common.
Good birdwatching.
I still say "our"
and "we" a lot.
I'm trying to get
better at that.
- My Arthur's been
gone for five years,
and I still find myself
talking to his photograph.
I could barely get a word
in when we were married.
Silver lining, I suppose.
- When my wife ran off,
I told myself it
was no one's fault,
that we just weren't
right for each other.
But the truth is, she
wanted more out of life,
and for some reason, I didn't.
But you know what?
Now I do.
I want more, Mary.
Would you give me
another chance?
- I'm not sure you're up
for an interesting life.
- Try me. I'll show you.
- How's your dancing?
- Where's Zahra Khin?!
Bring her out, or
we start shooting!
- All this fuss and
only two of you?
- I'm not fucking about!
- I'm afraid you are.
- Drop your guns and take
off those fucking masks.
- Hey, Alfie.
- Fuck's sake. Gary.
You know this is my pub?
- Sorry, Alfie.
It's just a job.
You know it goes.
- Yeah. How's your mum?
- Not bad.
Her arthritis has
been acting up.
You gonna kill us?
- Nah.
We'll have a pint, see
what you can tell us.
- No. These men need to die.
- Easy, mate, lower your gun.
- I don't take orders from you.
- All right, Miss Khin,
please tell your man
to lower his weapon.
- My driver's dead
because of them.
He had children, a family.
- Yeah, look, I
understand, but this is
my bar, so I make the rules.
- So they just get away with it?
- No.
But they might be
able to tell us
who betrayed you.
- I already know.
I knew the minute
they showed up.
I am so disappointed
in you, Win.
- What?
No! These people
have been filling
your head with lies.
I will kill them all
where they stand.
- Stop!
You were the only person
I gave this location to.
I didn't want to believe it.
But somehow I just knew.
Why did you do this?
How could you betray
what we believed in?
What my father believed in?
Answer me!
- Because I can't feed
my family with belief.
It has been ten years,
and nothing has changed.
They deserve more from me.
- So did I.
Who put you up to this?
- I said I was not
to be disturbed!
- Oh, my God.
You were a prisoner in
the Tower of London?
That's crazy.
- Yes, it is.
- Okay.
I guess Dad is, like,
totally beyond not cool.
No wonder you're mad at him.
So what are you gonna do?
- What can I do?
- I don't know. You're
asking my advice?
You're the smart one.
- Right.
- That's me.
I've allowed this thing
to tear my family apart.
What kind of a man
lets his own father do this
without any consequences?
- You, apparently.
- Rhetorical question,
Pat, but thanks.
- I'm here for you, brother.
- I don't know what to do, Pat.
I don't know.
- Oh, well. There's my ride.
I'm sure you'll figure it out.
You always do.
- I thought you said this
was a new art exhibit.
- It is.
- Where the fuck's the art?
- Here he is.
- My friends.
We live in the moment of history
in which the commodity of art
threatens to complete
its colonization of social life,
in which we have gone from being
into having, and having
into merely appearing,
until we become the
commodity itself.
Which is why, I tonight...
I give you not art,
not simulation,
not a representation of reality,
but reality itself.
And wet.
- Wait here.
Clear.
I've posted men on the
corners and the entrances.
You keep these closed.
I'll be in the lobby
if you need anything.
- I'm sure I'll be fine.
No reason for you to spend
all night in the lobby.
- Just a precaution.
No plans, anyhow.
- I'm gonna drink now.
Perhaps you care to join?
- Thank you, miss.
Rules are simple.
Every card in the deck has
a pair, except for one,
the dirty queen,
which is cursed.
I
know how she feels.
- We take her out of
the deck and then deal
the rest of the cards.
Then discard any pairs
you have, and the cards
you have left is your hand.
- Okay. And then?
- Then we start drawing
from each other's hands,
and whoever's left with
the dirty queen loses.
- I think I can follow that.
Thanks for sticking around.
- Want to make sure
there's no blowback
from the care package
we dropped off
at your president's hotel.
- Yeah.
- I know that kind
of betrayal is tough,
but you shouldn't
let it get to you.
- Shouldn't I?
- Everyone has a price.
It's the way of the world.
I don't have a price.
My father didn't have a price.
Just because men
like Win and you do
doesn't make it right.
- I charge for my services,
but my honor isn't for sale.
For rent, maybe,
but not for sale.
- You said everyone's
got a price.
Maybe no one's found yours yet.
- Possibly.
It's over a million
quid, anyhow.
- Oh yeah? How's that?
- Someone offered
me a million quid
to do something naughty,
and I walked away.
- You walked away
from a million pounds?
- Yeah.
Can we change the subject?
- What did they want you to do?
- Break someone out of
prison, which I did,
and put them on a plane,
which I didn't.
- Why not?
- They didn't want to go.
- That's it?
- Most decisions
aren't complicated.
Just comes down to
what you can live with.
Who you want to see when
you look in the mirror.
- And what do you see?
- An idiot who walked
away from a million quid.
- What did you
think of the show?
- I think I'm covered in paint.
- I'm serious.
- So am I. This was
an expensive jacket.
Fuck. Wanted to chin the man.
- You don't understand
social commentary.
- Obviously, I don't, no.
- I care about this
stuff, Dave Boy.
I want you to care
about it as well.
- Well, I'm here,
aren't I? I'm trying.
- What if there was
something you could take
to expand your mind,
get in touch with
your inner artist?
- I've seen all the hippies
dancing about on LSD.
I don't think that's for me.
- This is something new.
Francis told me about it.
It connects people in a profound
and spiritual level,
like sharing a dream.
- Last dream I had, I
was naked as a baby,
driving a double-decker bus
'round and 'round
Trafalgar Square.
- What do you say?
You wanna share a
dream with me tonight?
- Fuck it.
Why not?
Cheers.
Good Lord.
- Forgive me, Doctor.
I couldn't resist.
You looked so
delightfully nervous.
- Mr. Fuchs, I would never
have agreed to help you
if I'd known it
was your intention
to use Lullaby in this manner.
- And what manner is that?
- Lullaby was designed
as a mind control drug,
to strip away an
individual's defenses
and provide a blank canvas,
but we have to then
give a structure,
a blueprint.
- Or what?
- That's just it. Who knows
what a completely
unfettered psyche
might dream up on its own?
Could be anything.
- Yes, and isn't that wonderful?
- But...
- You see a blank
canvas, Doctor,
and think anarchy.
I see one and think freedom.
- How many did you give it to?
- Just a small dose
to a few special souls.
Don't worry.
This is only the beginning.
- The beginning of what?
And why the mask?
What are you planning?
- You'll see, Doctor.
All in good time.
You'll see.
- Do you sleep with all
your female clients?
- Well, word of mouth
plays a big part
in attracting new clients,
so I like to do what I can.
- Oh.
Risky move.
Could backfire.
- Well, I never thought of that.
- Sorry about your driver.
You did everything you could.
- There was nothing to do.
The bullet must have
hit his carotid artery
for rapid blood loss like that.
- You sound like a doctor.
- I almost was one.
I was in medical school when
my father was assassinated.
Felt like my whole world
ended in that single moment.
But I had to keep his work going
for the people of Kalpoor.
For him.
For me.
What about you?
- Me?
I live with me mum.
My dad passed away
five years ago.
- Sorry.
- You two would have gotten
along well, I imagine.
- Why's that?
- Shared interest.
He tried to blow up
the queen and overthrow
the government, for starters.
- I remember reading
about an attack
on the queen before
the civil war.
That was your father?
- He was a man of
his convictions,
I'll give him that.
I actually had to shoot him
to try and stop it.
- You shot your own dad?
- I couldn't let all
those people die.
- Is there anyone you can trust?
- I'd trust my best
mate with me life.
You?
- I haven't trusted
anyone since my Dad died.
But I think I can
trust you, Alfie.
I didn't come here
for the summit.
- Well, what did you
come here for then?
- To meet someone.
A man who says my
father's still alive.
- But you said he
was assassinated.
- Because that's
what I was told.
But we never recovered
a body, which means
there is a chance
that he's alive.
- Well, there's a better
chance it's a shakedown...
Or worse, a setup.
- Yeah, I know.
But it's my father
we're talking about.
- Well, what do
they say happened?
- That ten years ago, he
was kidnapped in Morocco.
He was then taken overseas
and has been locked up
in a secret location
ever since.
And this man?
He knows where.
Jesus.
- Oh, no, no, no,
no, no. That's twice.
Dave Boy?
You look like hell, mate.
I'm pleased you're
here, as it goes.
I need to talk to
you about somebody.
- Sure, sure.
- You don't look so good.
Are you sure you're okay?
- Oh, yeah.
I don't really feel myself.
But I'll be all right.
What's... What's going on?
- Do you remember a mission
we pulled about ten years ago?
Kidnapped a political
dissident in Morocco?
- Uh. Not really, no, why?
- I think the guy we
grabbed was Zahra's father.
- Aye? That's...
That's not good.
- No.
Not good.
- Thomas?
- Mr. Wayne?
- Morning.
- May I stow your bag?
- I'll keep it with me, thanks.
- Of course, sir.
We'll be landing in Gotham
at 8:00 a.m. local time.
Welcome aboard.
- How about a
smile for Mr. Bear?
You know he's your favorite.
Come on.
Well, well.
And there he is.
Mr. John Salt.
You hold Mr. Bear.
Mommy's got work to do.
- Bet Sykes.
I thought that was you.
- John Salt.
I've been looking for
you for a long time.
- And now you found me.
May I ask how?
- Ask away. Fat lot
of good it'll do you.
- Well, I suppose you found me
through one of those Ravens
you tortured and killed.
That was you, was it?
- Guilty.
Any last words?
Not that there's anyone
around to hear them,
or that I give a bloody damn.
Hmm.
This is for Lord Harwood. A
finer gentleman never lived.
You weren't fit
to lick his boots.
- Lord Harwood was a
weak-minded old fool
who got what he deserved.
- Right, you've had your say.
- You should know
I'm not the man I was.
- Hmm, reformed are ya?
- You could call it that.
Remade, redeemed. Remodeled.
- Bullocks.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Did the loud noise scare you?
The bad man's gone now.
There, there.
- Bloody hell.
- I did warn you.
I'm not the man I was.