Millionaire Flatley M.I. High

Explosives Direct.

I've got a delivery for, er, SKUL.

One kilogram dugranite...

Is that what you ordered?

INTERCOM: Yup.

Enough to blow up a school.

HE LAUGHS EVILLY

Bills, bills and more bills.

Oh,

-this one's for you.

-You read it.

It'll probably be another demand for money.

"Dear Kenneth Flatley,

"regarding the dying wishes of your great Aunt...Jemima"?

Jemima.

My father's aunt.

She moved to America and... Oh, I remember now,

she married a millionaire oil baron from somewhere like...

BOTH: Khazboldia.

She inherited all his money,

but now she's died.

"As one of her four favourite relatives,

"you have been invited to share her fortune

"totalling £4 million"! £4 million between four of you.

Headmaster! You're going to be a...

Millionaire.

The 21st century faces a new kind of threat.

Old-school spies have had their day

and MI9 must create a new breed of skilled undercover agent.

Hidden in a place no villain will think to look.

Welcome to MI High.

Ooh! Thank you!

Thank you, oh!

BELL RINGS Thank you!

So Flatley's getting a million quid.

And some new friends.

Ah, sir. When is after-school morris dancing club start again?

Ah, at last, Timothy. A useful hobby.

Ah, Frank.

Could you round up some extra chairs for my office?

I've got some relatives coming for the reading of my...

great aunt's will.

Today's the big day.

No problem, Mr F.

Here, bit unusual to have the reading of a will at a school,

-isn't it?

-Yes, the solicitor asked if he could do it here.

Something about his office being redecor-r-r... Ooh, oh!

"Turn down your share of the money or I blow up your precious school.

"And don't tell the cops neither."

Blow up the school!

Does that mean a bomb?

Keep this to yourself. We don't want to cause a panic.

I'll search every corner of the school if I have to.

Yes, thank you, Frank.

You're a good man in a crisis.

I mean, who could possibly want to do this?

-Sir?

-Oooh!

I found this South American weavers cooperative.

I thought with your new fortune, you might want to buy them a school.

-That's a kind thought, Avril, but...

-Sir, relax.

-You're in the hands of professionals.

-Am I?

We are your new personal shoppers.

Clothes, accessories, shoes.

Cars, televisions, gadgets.

Er!

I know what you're all after -

some of his million.

Well, he hasn't even got it yet. Have you?

No.

Run along.

-Go!

-Oooh!

I am so sorry about them.

Now, you mentioned you'd forgotten your lunch.

So, I thought you might like to buy a sandwich.

It's really not necessary, Mrs King.

No, no, no!

I insist.

We can't have the top man going hungry, can we?

HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY

Hmm.

Keep away from Mr Flatley today.

He's got a lot on his plate without you acting all matey.

ELECTRONIC BEEP

WARNING ALARM BEEPS

This was on Flatley's desk.

"Turn down your share of the money

"or I'll blow up your precious school!"

-ALL: What?

-Must be a hoax.

Unfortunately not.

Right, I have a gadget for you.

Detector specs.

They show up the tiniest trace of any unusual substance.

What can you see?

ELECTRONIC BEEPING

Dugranite?

Dugranite - a rare and powerful explosive.

Whoever sent that note is serious. There is a bomb in the school.

We need to evacuate. Everyone's in danger!

One wrong move could trigger the bomb.

Who'd want Flatley to turn down his million?

Any one of his relatives. They would all get a share of it.

-Oh, that's bad.

-What?

The only supplier of dugranite made their last delivery six weeks ago...

to SKUL.

I thought you said Flatley's relatives would get the money?

They would.

Though it appears one of them is working for SKUL.

-Unbelievable.

-Shouldn't we call the police?

-The note says not to.

-The bomb squad, then!

We don't want to cause a panic, this is SKUL we're talking about.

We're the best people to deal with this.

I want you to find out which relative is behind this

-and stop them before Flatley accepts the money.

-Look.

The Flatleys - they're arriving.

Result.

The bomber licked the envelope.

We have DNA.

Get DNA samples before they reach the office -

skin, hair, nails, anything!

And keep an eye out for the bomb.

Wait!

I didn't notice that before.

-Carrie, come on!

-No, you go.

TICKING

OK, Oscar. Approaching you now is Flatley's Uncle Hamish -

a university lecturer in advanced chemistry.

He certainly has the know-how to make a bomb.

FAINT BAGPIPE MUSIC

Professor Hamish Flatley?

I've had a hell of a journey

and this is the welcome I get.

One of the nit-ridden kids.

HE GROANS

BOX TICKS

LOUD ROCK MUSIC

Rose, heading your way is the head's second cousin -

Nozzy Flatley - lead singer with Flaky Pastry,

probably the worst rock band ever.

In 20 years they've never had a hit,

so the money will be very tempting to him.

-Flipping heck!

-Nervous?

Er, no, no. Just, em,

you know, excited.

I'm here for the reading of the will.

I know a shortcut. Follow me.

ROCK MUSIC SWELLS Oh.

TICKING

ELECTRONIC BUZZING

Carrie.

Carrie!

CUCKOO CHIMES

"Dear Mr Flatley,

"congrats on your exciting news!

"From all at the Caravan Club."

Carrie, about time! The last Flatley's here.

-It's the Reverend Jeanette. She's approaching reception.

-On my way.

She runs a drop-in centre for youngsters, but check this - it's under threat due to lack of funding.

Hey, homie. Bunking off?

School's like, well boring, yeah?

No!

I mean, I'm here to show you to the will reading.

Wicked!

Yeah, you must be excited about the money.

Oh, no, no. As long as I've got a roof over my noggin.

Dosh can't buy you happiness.

-You feel me?

-Yeah.

Well, em, just follow me.

Oh, thank you.

Headmaster?

Frank's a good man in a crisis.

Headmaster, this is Mr Pronting, the solicitor.

Frank's a good man in a crisis.

Frank's a good man in a crisis.

-Frank's a good man in a crisis.

-He's just overexcited.

Frank's a good man in a...

Would you like to contribute a ginger hair to my science project?

Contribute a ginger hair?

I havnae got time for this.

Obviously the more samples I get, the better.

We're trying to find out why ginger dominates -

why it always comes out on top.

Ah.

Because it's the best hair colour.

Ooh!

Obviously.

Stupid boy.

Now,

where's this head's office?

Rose? Hamish is certainly aggressive enough to be the bomber.

Nozzy's as nervous as anything, and he obviously wants the money.

And then, once I've built my own studio,

we won't need to sign to a label.

We're going to be huge, bigger even than Take That!

SUCKING

Ready?

Hamish's DNA sample.

COMPUTER BEEPS

Rose, Nozzy's.

His dandruff will contain DNA.

COMPUTER BEEPS

So it's Jeanette?

I knew she was too good to be true.

Here. Should be enough saliva for a match.

Then we need to find where she's hidden the bomb...

-COMPUTER BEEPS

-What?

It's none of them.

-The bomber must be someone else.

-But who?

Everything's gone hunky dory.

I'll be listening in.

-LAUGHS EVILLY

-And if I don't get my money...

Kaboom!

CHUCKLES EVILLY

That note didn't just arrive by magic.

Here's the CCTV from first thing this morning.

Er, why would Scoop be working for SKUL?

Look.

Scoop's just the delivery boy.

Someone giving him...

a bear and an envelope

and some money for doing it.

And this is our only angle?

That's our bomber.

I'll find Scoop and get a description.

I'm thinking the dugranite might be...

Inside that teddy bear. I'm on it.

-And you're on forensic analysis.

-Yes!

BELLS JINGLE

Yeah, go on. Laugh away.

Truth is, this is the best way to get in Flatley's good books

and it's a short step from his good books to his wallet.

Oh, so that's why you took him a cuddly toy this morning!

You, em...

-You saw that?

-Dude, you must really like him.

No! No, no, no, no!

See... You, you've got it wrong, see?

I was given that from someone else, innit.

Straight up, some bloke at the gates.

What bloke?

Don't know. I've never seen him before.

Erm, '80s mullet...

erm, dungarees...

sort of talked funny as well.

A foreign accent?

Don't know.

Maybe. Why?

Just that you probably helped an underworld crime syndicate

with a plan to blow up the school.

HE LAUGHS

Pull the other one. It's got bells on it!

Er, Mr Flatley?

I'm not leaving Flipsy and friends alone with them.

But what about the will?

I just need to speak to Frank.

I'll give him ten minutes.

If he's not back by then,

I'll have to split his share between the other three.

He'll be back.

Er, hi.

The bear on Mr Flatley's desk.

My sister gave it to him by accident and now she's upset. Could I just...?

Sorry. Legal proceedings. I can't let you in.

Ahh, where is he off to?

I dinnae trust the English!

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Nae offence.

It's Hamish. He has dugranite on his fingers.

But he didn't match the DNA from the envelope.

Plus Scoop described a man with dungarees and a mullet.

Maybe they're working together.

We need to get into Flatley's office and scan that bear.

Classic - using newspaper letters to avoid handwriting analysis.

Could've come from anyone.

Look! Colour.

In Britain we spell it with a U, right?

Here it says C-O-L-O-R - the American way.

Whoever bought this newspaper was from America.

Great. That narrows it down to, oh, 300 million people.

MOBILE BEEPS

Hello.

Frank, I know who the bomber is.

Great, who?

It's one of my relatives.

They're the ones who get my share of the money! Now,

I don't know which one it is,

but I'm going to call the police right now.

No need, I've already found the bomb

-and defused it.

-Really?

How did you manage that?

Er, it was a badge I got in the Cubs.

It all came flooding back.

Frank, you're a marvel!

-Well done.

-Cheers, Mr F.

Frank!

The note says not to call the police.

It could've triggered the bomb.

If he thinks it's been defused, he's bound to take the money now,

which will also trigger it!

I had no choice. I've bought you some extra time to find the bomber.

Now I have to evacuate the school.

It's getting too dangerous.

TOILET FLUSHES

-Headmaster?

-Hmm?

Are you all right?

Tickety-boo, Mrs King.

I'll tell you what, Frank London is my new best friend!

I wonder if he'd like a new car...

HE KNOCKS ON DOOR

ROCK MUSIC PLAYS

Wow!

I heard you were here.

I love Flaky Pastry. Would you sign this?

Oh, right, fans! No problem, mate.

Hey!

This isn't opened.

I know.

I keep all my Flaky Pastry CDs safely in

their original wrapping.

They're that precious.

Precious?

You mean, you've never listened to them?

Never.

Wow!

I'll just get a pen.

There's no dugranite on the bear, but there is a listening device.

That must be so the bomber can hear if Flatley takes the money.

If we invert the frequency of the transmitter in the bear,

we should be able to pinpoint the receiver.

There.

A few streets away.

You go, I'll search for the bomb.

There you go, mate.

Remember,

keep the flake!

Nice shades, man.

Oscar, this is mad.

He's got dugranite on him too.

So Nozzy and Hamish are part of this somehow?

But it was the dungaree man who gave Scoop the note.

Time to find out who's listening in to Teddy FM.

Nice stash!

These kids must think he's well quality.

Now, the sooner we do this, the sooner I can order the...

seven-berth Winchester deluxe caravan,

complete with aquarium, ha-ha!

Come on, Mr Pronting. Chop, chop.

Check it, he's got his own little mic,

look!

RECEIVER SCREECHES

Lost him.

Frank?

The newspaper lettering is dodgy. All the B's have a tiny bit missing.

I'm searching for a match.

Got it.

Our bomber comes all the way from Nohorse, Alabama,

USA.

He's obviously desperate for the money,

but we have to stop him somehow.

No, you won't stop him.

Mr Flatley WILL get his money

and then he WILL buy me a Porsche.

MOBILE RINGS

Mrs King?

Everyone's ready.

We just need you and one other witness.

I have the perfect person.

Oh, I was just about to do a fire drill.

I'm not letting you out of my sight.

ELECTRONIC BUZZING

Rose? We've lost the signal.

I found a newspaper archive.

"Dwayne Flatley, 43, rescued his pet cat, Rosco-Pea,

"after destroying his home with an experiment...using dugranite."

Dwayne Flatley... But,

where is he now?

He's renting a lock-up round the corner.

I'll check it out.

HE LAUGHS

MRS KING: 'I have our witness, Mr Pronting...

BEEPING

Oscar?

Yeah, I see him.

ANSWER MACHINE BEEPS

'Hi there, Rosco-Pea.

'I've left you a saucer of milk on the side

'and I'll be all right soon.

'Everything's going to be hunky-dory.

'I'll be listening in

'and if I don't get my money...'

HE LAUGHS EVILLY

'Kaboom!'

MACHINE BEEPS

Rosco-Pea.

"Confirming your status as an animal charity"?

Weird.

Oscar?

No sign of Dwayne.

That's because he's here.

I'm on my way, just need to check something out.

Guys,

I'm stuck in the office,

it's up to you now.

Er...

No time for odd jobs. Now, sit down

where I can keep an eye on you.

No hillbilly's going to blow up our school.

Oscar, the bomb trigger.

Y'all get back.

Come any closer... and I'll blow us all sky high.

In order to receive your share...

..you each need to sign this form.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Before we start,

I'd like to know which one of you sent me the note

about a bomb.

A note like this one

threatening my precious lecture theatre?

Mine said, "Your precious church."

"Precious shed."

It's where I keep my drum kit.

They each got a note.

That's why they all had dugranite on their fingers.

So you're working alone?

Stay back!

I will do it.

Where's the bomb, Dwayne?

I'm not saying nothing...

till I hear 'em say no to the money.

You all got a note,

but you were all brave enough to come here today?

No-one tells me what to do.

For a million quid, it seemed like a chance worth taking.

Chillax, man!

It's probably some Herbert having a giraffe.

Oh, no, no, no!

It was a real bomb. Frank here defused it.

Good heavens above!

A real bomb!

Ach, who'd do that?

Wait a minute.

If we all turned down the money,

who gets it?

It's in the small print.

It goes to an animal charity -

SKUL.

SKUL.

CAT MEADOWS

Dilute it.

Aggravate.

Heat.

Distil.

Gives you liquid dugranite!

Carrie? Dwayne converted the dugranite into a liquid,

that's why it didn't show up.

Flatley's carried it into the school in a vase of flowers.

Repeat, the dugranite is in the vase.

-WHISPERS: The bomb's in a vase in Flatley's office.

-Frank's in there.

No interruptions.

Nothing is going to stop Mr Flatley from getting this money. Got it?

You're doing all this just for the money?

Oh, no.

It's not for me.

I just want SKUL to have the money.

I believe in everything SKUL stands for.

-MR FLATLEY:

-I've made up my mind.

We don't give in to bullies at this school.

I shall be taking my share of the money.

Thank you.

No!

You stupid...

HE PRESSES SWITCH

BOMB BEEPS

Two minutes till...

..kaboom.

I can't stop it.

You need my four-digit code.

You'll blow up this whole school!

If SKUL don't get the money,

life's not worth living.

SKUL?

Save Kittens with Unconditional Love?

Carrie, Dwayne doesn't work for the Grand Master. It's a different SKUL.

A charity.

Save Kittens with Unconditional Love.

He might not be the Grand Master,

-but he's crazy enough to blow up a school.

I've got an idea. Call me back on my mobile.

Carrie?

I'm not taking any money.

The risk is too huge.

I have no idea what he just said,

but I dare not put the church at risk. I decline.

-MIAOWING

-Mr Flatley keeps his kittens in school.

They're all over the place.

Of course, erm,

blowing up the school would make you a kitten killer.

All right.

I'll stop it.

BOMB CONTINUES BEEPING

Hey, Rose,

the new ring tone totally worked.

I've forgotten my PIN number!

Frank!

Morse code. Let's just hope Frank's listening.

LOUD TAPPING

That's terrorism.

Nothing less.

Frank!

I changed the water in those earlier.

Did smell quite odd.

-WHISPERS:

-Sit down.

If I may continue, Mr Flatley.

All the money is now coming to you.

As you know, your aunt's husband was Khazboldian.

Yes.

So all I need to do is convert

the four million Khazboldian pounds

into English money.

Convert it?

You lucky beggar.

Please dinnae say it's even more.

How much is it?

Minus my fee, plus overtime...

£5.

Exactly.

THEY ALL LAUGH

You owe me that for lunch.

£5.

That's funny!

ALL: Sir, Mr Flatley, sir!

He's in there.

ALL: Sir, Mr Flatley, sir!

-HE SOBS

-I've spent it all!

On a sandwich!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd