Vigilante Murder in Successville

This programme contains very strong language.

Hello, I'm Vicky Pattison from Geordie Shore

and Queen Of The Jungle, but today I'm starring

in me very own cult drama.

I've got no idea what's going to happen to us,

so wish me luck. I'm off to Successville.

Welcome to Successville,

a town full of celebrities.

Sometimes the famous faces that live here break the law

and when they do, I'm here to take them down.

I am DI Sleet, I brush my teeth with crime.

I wipe my ass with bad guys,

and I de-scale my kettle with kettle descaler.

I guess there's no other way.

-Why aren't you doing any work?

-Well, I...

Why aren't you doing any work, you fat slob?

Well, actually, it's a special day today, Sir.

It comes around once a year for everyone.

It's your birthday!

I'm so sorry.

-I had no idea.

-It's the same day every year.

I could not give a solitary shit.

So you have no gift for me at present?

-Actually, as a matter of fact, I do.

-Oh, really?

-Rookie!

-Oh, great(!) HE CLUCKS

Happy birthday, Sleet!

-Hiya!

-This is Vicky Pattison, yes,

fresh off the shelf.

Try not to break her or I will fucking break you.

I'll break her!

I don't...sorry.

-Thanks. Hiya.

-Take a seat.

He is a bit of a helmet, isn't he?

He's a complete helmet, he busts my balls all the time. That was a weird handshake.

-I know, I did a finger thing.

-Don't worry, take a seat, Pattison.

What's with the cake?

Well, it's my birthday today.

-Happy birthday!

-Thank you.

Thank you very much.

-Hey, do you want one of these cool birthday hats?

-Yes, please.

Shall we both put one on?

Yes, I think it will be whimsical.

I like the word whimsical, I don't use it enough.

-You want a game of pass the parcel?

-What's that? Oh, all right, pass the parcel. Let's do it, then.

I've got this present, so are you ready?

Yeah, man, of course.

Do you know the rules?

Pass it on, music stops, undo the wrapping?

You are the cleverest person I've ever met.

-Thank you.

-You really are.

-I've got a degree.

Have you? What in? Being cool?

Drama, Media & Cultural Studies.

-Oh, right, that isn't as cool as I thought.

-No, it's a bit wank.

Yeah. Hey, pass the parcel.

Yeah, let's do it.

Let's get this party really started.

DANCE MUSIC PLAYS

-Yeah, I like it.

-Go!

-Oh! What the hell?

-You go for it.

Seems that we have...

pants!

-Wow, they are cool pants.

-And also...

a vest. Do you want to wear the pants and I'll wear the vest?

-Y...yeah.

-OK. There you go.

That'll be so frigging cool.

We should just get so drunk later and still have this on.

Yeah! I'm up for that.

HE LAUGHS

Oh, my pants are stuck on my heel.

My vest is stuck on my carpets.

-Look at this!

-I mean...

-Who's this guy?

You look like a superhero, Sleet.

Yeah, well, I am.

Oh, wow. Pattison, this is so epic!

It's strong.

-This right here, right now...

-Yeah.

-..I will label it

as the best birthday of all time of my life.

Right, DI Sleet, the game is up.

I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

You're joking. Chief, come on, is this some kind of joke for my birthday?

What do you mean by this?

Nick Knowles has been found dead in your fucking car!

Yes, it was driven up to the woods and dumped.

He was killed last night.

Goddammit, I ain't killed no-one. You got to believe me, Pattison.

-I do.

-Hand over your gun and badge, pig!

It's weird getting it out because I've got pants over my...

What the fuck are you wearing?

It's his birthday, Chief...

God, you as well.

You know I'd die for this badge.

Damn you, Chief.

I'm the best copper in this damn force.

Cuff him, Sid!

Get off me, Lowcroft! Come on, I thought we were friends!

Let me tell you something, Lowcroft,

I wish I'd had sex with your wife at the Christmas party like everybody else did.

SHE SPLUTTERS Lowcroft, what are you doing? You're fingering my ass

like you're looking under your bed for your wedding shoes.

-You're not sticking your fingers up his arse, are you, Lowcroft?

-He's trying to.

Get off me, Lowcroft, have you not done enough?

-Sleet.

-Pattison, you need to free me and clear my name.

-I will, Sleet.

-I didn't do it, I swear!

-I believe you, Sleet.

-PATTISON, CLEAR MY NAME!

You're on your own now, kid. Time to put your best bollock forward.

-Good luck!

-Thanks.

DOOR BUZZES, HE WHISTLES

Pattison, Pattison, Pattison!

Take a seat.

-Is everything OK?

-No, Pattison, not everything's OK.

I've been fitted up for murder and now I'm in the big house.

And let me tell you, this ain't as cool as people say.

It ain't that nice here.

The food's cruddy, it stinks.

The other thing that really gets my goat is this uniform they've given me.

-It's too small.

-But at least orange is your colour.

-Oh, do you think I look nice?

-Yeah.

It's a bit weird, Lee said that, too.

He said if I did my hair up all night, he'd take me for dinner.

He said to me if I wanted he could lend me some of his bubble bath.

So he seems like a real straight guy, a real straight shooter.

I think straight is the last thing he is.

What...?

We've got to get you off, that is why I came here today. (I brought the file you wanted.)

Good, you are the best, Pattison.

It says about the weapon and it just says it was a standard police-issue

revolver.

Yeah, a Glock 17.

I've got one of those, of course.

I know, that doesn't look good.

Yeah, but everybody's got one and they're all over the streets like dog shits.

-Anything else?

-This is a forensic report.

It says that the victim was killed last night,

that the killer drove the car because the vehicle was caught on CCTV

approaching the woods.

I couldn't have driven, I was drunk out of my mind.

The last thing I remember is I drank a quart of mulled wine

and then I did a couple of shots of mead.

Where the fuck where you drinking, a monastery?

THEY LAUGH

Yeah, it was a pretty cool place.

-Those monks go OFF.

-Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

You're getting baited up, Sleet.

-Yeah, exactly, that's what I think.

-(Without a doubt).

Someone wanted my sweet ass in jail.

The only way of clearing my name is if we bust me out of here

and me and you go renegade.

-We hunt them down.

-Uh-huh.

I need to get that big piece of shit guard over here

so I can use this.

(What the fuck's that?)

Chloroform, I snuck it in.

Here's what we do.

I'm going to start staging a small argument between us.

-Then you overreact, start crying, sobbing, saying how much you miss me.

-Yeah.

-Right?

Yeah, well, maybe if your mother showed me a little bit of respect

when she came round instead of complaining about my food,

because someone else won't cook at home.

Right, OK. So there you go,

bringing up me mother, eh?

Well, at least she comes round. I don't care what she says when she gets there,

at least she shows her face - what about your family?

They're intimidated by you because you're so nasty all the time!

I AM NOT NASTY, I'M SASSY, ALL RIGHT?

There's a difference!

Yeah, well, you tell me the difference and I'll write it on my ass

and send it to the lawyers!

I will take you for every penny you've got, Sleet!

I haven't got any MONEY!

Well, the joke's on you cos I've got loads.

-Well, REALLY?

-Really!

Let me have some!

No!

Oh, my God, why have you done this?

Everyone in our household misses you.

There's a lot of missing going on.

Hey, thanks, buddy,

you're a great big stinky lump.

Take this, you big clown.

That's it, hit the ground.

Hit the deck, big fella.

ALARM SOUNDS

Ha-ha.

Right, Pattison, let's hit the streets and find out who fitted me up.

Let's go! Come on.

Let's do this.

'We were now on the run.

'We'd kidnapped our first suspect,

'sleazy politician, Len Goodman.

'He loathed me.

'Time for me and Pattison to become masters of disguise.'

What accents can you do?

Can you do Cockney?

-COCKNEY ACCENT:

-All right, mate?

That's brilliant.

I'm a fucking geezer, ain't I?

-I'm going to be Scottish.

-OK. Let's hear your Scottish.

GLASGOW ACCENT: Eh, you're going to get yourself one of these.

Right, I think...yeah, brilliant.

For a minute there, I fucking thought you were Scottish.

Put this on. I'm going to wear this balaclava so he doesn't know it's me.

-Do you want me to put this straight on me head, like?

-Yeah, put it on your head like that.

How about now? Do I look really like a man?

Oh, my God, you look so tough and cool.

Ha-ha, yes!

Right. Pattison...

are you ready to slip into the world of torture?

Let's do it.

Let's go torture Len Goodman.

Och, aye, the noo!

Get oot of here, you piece of crap!

Get here, you fucking mug.

You're going tae get it.

Right, take off this hood.

Get off me!

Eh, you're going tae get it

cos we are from Glesgae and you're going to get it.

What are you on about? What you after - money?

Word to the wise, Sunny Jim,

and you, half pint.

You don't want to make an enemy out of me.

And anyway, what are you talking about?

See noo, we're from Glesgae,

and we're going to dig your head in

and we're going bury you in a basket.

Glasgow, where, Nigeria?

Glasgow in Scotland.

Uzbekistan?

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

I'm going to take your...

Why's he laughing?

Do me a favour, what's he on about?

-Right, this is...

-Shut up!

You mug.

Where are you from?

-IN DREADFUL ACCENT:

-I'm a Cockney geezer, ain't I?

Don't make me laugh!

The pair of you, bleeding muppets!

YELLS IN APPALLING GLASGOW ACCENT

UNINTELLIGIBLE RANTING

'Ere, have you seen his eyebrows?

Look at that!

Whit's that supposed to mean?

Look at the size of them. You're some kind of freak, you are!

-Believe me, under there, a hirsute gorilla!

-What?

He just saw...

-That's it, that's it! I'm getting out...

-Oh, it is you, Sleet!

-You wouldn't know it was me until I...

-Yes, I did!

You're on my case again, are you? You lanky glass of milk!

How did you know it was me before?

I'll tell you what, you sound more Scottish now than

when you was doing all that "Glasgae waffle-waffle!"

Shush-ee, Goodman, shush-ee!

Check his pockets, Pattison. Have a look.

I don't think you're going to like what we find.

-Can't you be more inventive than that, Sleet?

-Very interesting.

-What's this we have?

-Well, it's a passport. It's pretty obvious, isn't it?

-Yeah. Been anywhere nice?

-Yes, I've just come back from Tenerife.

-What are these?

-Well, they're your car keys, aren't they?

-Why have you got them?

I've had them donkey's years, mate, in case you start poking

that big porky, piggy nose of yours into my business.

Then I run your little jam jar down the garage and I fill her up

with diesel, even though she runs on unleaded!

HE CACKLES

Do you know how much this has cost me? That's cost me a fortune, you horrible piece of shit!

-Why would you do such a thing?

-Because I like toying with you!

-What do you like doing?

-Oh, my...

-What? What are you doing that for?

-Why are you pulling that face?

-Jesus, Sleet!

-Have you been nibbling on turds?

-What?!

That's disgusting! H for halitosis! Dear me.

Bring back hanging!

Bring back hanging for halitosis!

-Come on, Sleet...

-Oh, shut up! HE COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS

-Oh, you're exaggerating.

-No, really.

That's like mustard gas coming out of your mouth.

-I'll tell you something.

-What?

-You want to fry?

-You want to fry, Goodman?

-What are you going to do?

-I wondered what you were going to do then.

-Hey! Hey!

-Don't make it like that!

-Yeah, OK.

-Don't make this weird.

I don't know, you might have changed, Sleety boy.

Right, that's it, that's it, that's it! Let's electrocute him up.

You are going to have a million volts of electricity

-put through your body.

-Oh, right. Off the grid or solar?

-Huh? What?

I don't know.

It's electricity, it's... We're going to make a smoothie out of you, Goodman!

-Light him up.

-Are you ready for this?

-Yeah, light him up.

-Hey, how do you feel now?

-Oh, look! Zilch!

-I'm just going to...

-Ouch again! Ha!

What have you pressed? Have you pressed anything that's wrong?

-Is this actually on, or...

-I just pressed the buttons, man.

-Oh, for Christ's sake!

Argh!

-It doesn't work.

-Oh, that was like a ballet dancer's kick, there, Sleet!

-Yeah, well, you wouldn't have wanted...

-You're a lot more graceful

than I had you down for. For a big man, you move very well.

You wouldn't have wanted it for a wart on your nose, would you?

-I wouldn't what?

-You wouldn't want it for a wart on your nose.

-Do you understand anything he says?

-Right, that's it, you're going

to have to shoot him. You're going to have to shoot him.

What's that? Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you pleased to see me?

-That doesn't even work, it's in my ankle!

-The old ones are the best.

-I can see right through you, Sleet.

-You couldn't see the gun there before, could you?

-Right, you're going to have to threaten him with this.

-What's going on?

-We're going to blow your kneecaps off.

-Are you really? You haven't got the balls.

I've got the biggest balls you have ever fucking seen!

-She's got big, delicious, hairy, creamy balls!

-"She"?

-What are you talking about?

-It was a slip of the tongue, he meant "he"!

-No, tell him.

-You're a woman, she's a girl, a woman!

-That's right,

-I'm a girl!

-What about the beard?

-I drew it on.

-Fantastic.

It's very convincing, well done.

-Have you ever thought of a career in make-up?

-Well, I have actually...

Enough, get to the point!

-Put a bullet in his knee. Pull the plug on him, shoot him!

-Are you ready?

Shoot him, shoot him good. Do it, just do it! Pull the gun.

-What are you doing?

-I don't know, I think it's broke.

-Dear me!

-What, you've broken it?

-This is why I said to get a receipt!

-You two!

A battery with no charge, a gun with no bullets? I mean, really.

What's next? A knife with no blade?

There's no bullets in it! We look like a fucking pair of idiots.

What the hell do you mean there's no bullets?

Sorry, will you wake me up when this is all over?

Well, it is over, because we haven't got any other ways of torturing you.

Right, OK. The game's up.

-Well, do you want a lift anywhere?

-I don't need a lift anywhere, Sleet.

I'll walk.

I always do.

Jilted lovers are always framing people for murder.

My ex Lorraine Kelly was out of town selling Hoovers,

so we had a snoopsy poopsy around her gaff.

Close the door, Pattison.

What do you think?

Snazzy, isn't it?

There's someone coming, listen.

When she comes in, just say you're a copper and you've heard

that there was a burglary here and you're just investigating it.

-Don't say I'm here, Pattison!

-Sleet...!

Jesus.

-SHE SQUEALS

-Yea, God.

-Oh, my God! Don't move, you wee bitch!

-No, no!

I've had a drink, but I can handle myself!

Put the bottle of vodka down, Lorraine! No need to be alarmed.

-I am a police officer.

-Are you, like, undercover?

-Yes.

-Oh!

-I'm here to protect you, really.

-You were just trying to protect me!

-Yeah.

-And here's me trying to stove your face in!

-THEY LAUGH

Oh, Lorraine! You're funny like that!

I owe you an apology.

-It's fine, it's OK. How are you?

-I'm good.

-Yeah?

-You know, I loved one once.

-Did you?

-I did.

-But he let me down!

-SHE SOBS

SLEET: Agh! Fuck you!

-Ah, Jesus!

-What was that, hen?

-Is it your guy, your policeman?

-Aye.

He left me heartbroken.

Are you still hoping to, like, see him again, or...?

He'll come back. They all come back in the end.

I wouldn't touch you with a bargepole.

-Did you hear something?

-No. No.

Um, you don't know anyone who'd want to see DI Sleet locked up, do you?

-No! My Sleety?

-Yeah.

-No! Well...

Do you think he's capable of murder?

-I don't think so.

-I do.

-You do?

-I do!

I... I do!

-But you don't know him like I do.

-I mean, I'll hold my hands up.

Aye. He's an animal.

A complete animal. Can you imagine what he's like as a lover?

You fucking loved it. PATTISON COUGHS

What was that?

You loved it up you... PATTISON COUGHS

-Are you all right, hen?

-Yeah, I'm OK. I just...

-OK.

-You're being so nice and honest with me, um...

-You're, like, my new best friend!

-LORRAINE LAUGHS

-We are!

-I like you!

-I like you, too!

-TEARFULLY:

-Oh, God, Sleety!

-He really let me down.

-Argh, Jesus!

-Well, do you want to go out?

-Oh, hen.

-Oh, come here, you.

-SLEET GROANS

LORRAINE SOBS

-It's all right. Men are bastards.

-Right, aye...

-Do you know what you need?

-Yeah?

-A wee settler.

-Go on, then, Lorraine, why not, eh?

-Aye!

I've got some Charlie.

I'll just go get it, we can have a wee bump, aye, that'll sort us out!

-Jesus. What the hell is going on up there?

-Well, I don't know.

I think I'm bonding with her.

-Yeah, you're "bonding"!

-Well, it's all part...

We're here to ask questions about me, not for you to have a sleepover and get drunk.

It is horrible down here. It is dusty, there's actual skin.

-And there was a sandwich here.

-What do you mean, "was"?

-I ate it. I ate the sandwich.

-Oh, Sleet, my God.

And I don't even know what was in it.

-But as I ate it, I thought, "It's got the texture of chicken..."

-Yeah?

"..but it tastes like fish."

Get back under that fucking bed, Sleet, before I kick your head in.

Yes. OK. Just make it quick.

-All right!

-LORRAINE CHUCKLES

Oh, Lorraine, you are a sort!

-Come on, then, here we go!

-Ah! For fuck's sake!

And you've both got your fucking shoes on on the bed?

Hang on.

-You all right, Lorraine?

-I can smell him.

No, that's just the shovel.

Whoa, whoa, chill out, mate!

Why don't you just go back to doing your chizzle, Lozza?

You're sleeping with him.

-Sleeping with him?

-Oh, my God.

Mate, mate, no, no, no. You've got the wrong end of the stick.

I would never sleep with your Sleety, all right?

-You will never have what we had! Never!

-That's it, that's it.

I've had enough. I can't listen to any more of this.

Now listen good.

Don't look at him, Alison, don't look at him,

he's an attention seeker. Don't look at him! Pattison, don't laugh at him.

He's self-conscious enough. Don't you laugh at him.

-He doesn't look self-conscious to me, mate!

-What?

I... Stop it, Lorraine! Lorraine! Shut up.

Pointing your Glock 17 at an innocent woman! Nice.

Now let me tell you something.

I'm going to find out whoever fitted me up

and I'm going to rain down justice upon them.

Now listen, you disgusting, smelly old lush.

Kind of harsh, that, Sleety, like.

-Pattison, this is awkward enough as it is.

-You're telling me!

You're standing with a massive boner

-and I'm pretty sure she's trying to get us to do a line off her.

-What? Did you do any drugs?

Course I didn't do any drugs!

Just saying, this is weird for me too, all right?

I'm trying to get rid of it.

Maybe if someone was to blow on it, it would go away.

-I'll do it, shall I...?

-No, you won't.

-You come anywhere near that thing and I'll blow your brains out.

-OK.

-It's not for either of you.

This is me, this is all for me.

-So selfish!

-Yeah.

-Men, so selfish.

-Men are selfish, though, Lorraine.

Oh, really, Pattison? Maybe we should have a chat about that when we get out of here?

Aye, maybe you should.

Because you seem to have forgot you're my friend, not her friend!

I'm not just one person's friend! Do you know what I mean?

-Am I being too clingy?

-Yes, you certainly are. I'm my own person!

And you know what it is? I quite like Lorraine!

Right, we're going, because I've had enough of this.

We can talk about this in the car.

-Right, we will talk about it in the car.

-Right, come on.

-Only if that goes down.

-Yes, it will go down once it gets

-some cold air to it.

-It was nice to meet you, Lorraine.

-Oh!

-What are you doing? What are you...? She's a suspect.

She might have fitted me up for murder.

Innocent until proven guilty. What happened to that, Sleety?

-Whose side are you even on?

-Listen, stop being so quick to judge, man.

-See you later, Lorraine. You take care of yourself.

-I will, aye.

-I told you to get this door fixed.

-I still love you.

-Shut up.

Still love you. Toodle-pip.

Word on the street was my old police-school rival,

Lewis Hamilton, had stepped into my orthopaedic police shoes.

The street was never wrong. This stank of smelly dung.

Time to break into the place I used to call home.

Let's get this guy.

-Dammit, dammit to hell.

-What is it, Sleet?

-Lewis Hamilton.

-The sneaky, conniving piece of crud.

-What happened between yous two?

When I was at cop college, there was two star pupils.

One was me. One was Lewis Hamilton.

-He didn't like it that I was better than him.

-Yeah.

So when we were first in court together,

he filled my helmet full of custard,

so when I put it on top of my head, it went all over my hair

and on my face.

And then everybody else in the class just threw hundreds

and thousands on me and everyone said I was a big, stupid trifle.

He just never gets tired of hurting people's feelings.

It wouldn't surprise me if this was all down to him, like.

-Exactly, Pattison. And I need you to get him to admit to this.

-How?

-Pretend you're an MI5 agent, of course.

-OK, and?

You need to go in there,

say that you're impressed with whoever killed Nick Knowles.

You like their work, you think they're brilliant and cool.

-And I could use a guy like that on my team.

-Exactly, Pattison.

-This is it.

-Your name will be Edith Plumson.

-Plumson. Got it.

-Do it, Pattison.

-Let's go make a trifle out of Lewis Hamilton.

-Yeah.

You could, though.

KNOCK AT DOOR

-Hi. Lewis Hamilton, yeah?

-Can I help you?

I'm Edith, Edith Plumson. It's very nice to meet you.

MI5.

-MI5?

-Yeah.

-Really?

-Yeah, yeah, yeah, really. I'm not going to lie.

-I'm going to tell you this straight. I'm a big fan of yours.

-Really?

Not just with your interior design and what you've done in this

office, but with what you've done with the murder of Nick Knowles.

Excuse me?

I mean, I admire how you've managed to sort of pin it on Sleet.

Let me tell you something, Edith.

I don't think you're MI5 at all.

-Well, that's just ridiculous, because I am.

-Who sent you?

-It was my boss.

Because I think your boss is old Uncle Sleet,

and judging from you, he's quite the groomer.

He's nowt like your barber, then, is he, son?

Shall we get back to Nick Knowles and how you killed him?

Shall we talk about that again?

There's only one thing I groom, Hamilton, and that's young girls

and young boys to make good police officers.

The game is up, kid.

Well, well, if it isn't Captain Chilly-Winky.

Still laughing about that? Pulling a man's pants down

-in his first victory parade?

-Shrinkage is always funny, Sleet.

When you drew a big penis on my forehead and I went on all those

dates, all that speed dating with a big cock drawn on my forehead...

They were just jokes, Gigantor.

Or don't they have jokes in Giant Land?

They have jokes. You know the biggest joke of all is you.

-A cop who can't drive.

-You know damn well why I can't drive, Sleet.

Well, I ain't here for a walk down memory lane, you son of a gun.

You tell me one reason why me and Vicky don't shoot you right now.

Well, number one, maybe you're the killer, Sleet. You hear me?

-A dirty, lowlife killer.

-No, I'm not. I'm a good man.

Lowcroft.

What are you doing here? Nice little pizza club?

What is on those pizzas? Deceit and pineapple?

One is chicken supreme and the...

-Shut up, Lowcroft.

-You always were a pussy.

Give me that gun. What about now? Who's the pussy now?

-I've got two guns, boy. What are you looking at?

-Police issue.

-Glock 17s?

-Yes, of course they are.

The standard issues weren't built with searchlights.

-That only tells me one thing, Sleet.

-What?

-You've cable-tied pound-shop torches to the barrels.

-Shut up!

-You're pathetic, Sleet.

-No, I'm not! I'm a good cop!

I'm a good boy, Mummy!

-This is where it all ends, huh?

-You haven't thought this through, Sleet.

Yes, I have. I've thought it all through.

Have you considered that it was this rookie over here?

-Edith or whatever her real name is.

-Vicky, her name is Vicky.

Everything was peachy keen until she showed up.

Suddenly she's here, your world crumbles. Coincidence?

I don't know what to think.

It's like left is right and right is left, up is down and down is up.

I don't know my arse from my elbow right now.

What are you doing eating pizza? Come on.

It's going to go cold, Sleet.

-They are going to go cold.

-I don't care about the pizza!

-Get here.

-What the hell?

-Calm down, you don't have to do this.

-Yeah, I do.

-Sleet, this is a stupid idea.

-This ends on the roof.

-Why the roof?

Because it's cooler that way.

-Everything comes to an end, Ramsay.

-Don't be stupid, Sleet.

-Put the girl down.

-No way. No way, Jose.

-I'm going to blow her kaboosh off.

-Shut up, Sleet.

-I've got three people here making complaints against you.

-Shut up!

-Shut up!

-All right, all right, just calm down.

I ain't calming down. I've got a list of demands.

I want a helicopter, a purple, sparkly one

and I want you to kiss Sid Lowcroft.

-Come on, Sleet, that's childish.

-Kiss his slimy arse-kissing mouth.

-Sleet, that's babyish.

-Yeah?

How babyish is it if I put a bullet in her head?

-Kiss Lowcroft.

-All right.

-Kiss Lowcroft. Kiss him now. Do it.

Be big about this, OK?

-Right, Sleet, come on.

-No, that's not all. Touch his face.

Do it again, sensually. Do it as sensual.

-You are pissing me off now.

-I really have got the gun.

-Touch his face and his ears when you do it.

-Oh!

-Now hump his leg like you're a little Jack Russell. Do it!

-Fuck me.

-This is fucking horrible.

-Do it now, do it good.

Faster. And look at me and Vicky and smile.

Right, that's it, Sleet.

No more funny games. You put the gun down or we open fire in ten seconds.

-Right, Vicky, we haven't got much luck much longer.

-Ten...

I need you to take this gun and I need you to take out who you think

framed me for the murder of Nick Knowles

-and when you shoot him...

-Seven...

-..say something cool.

-OK.

One, two, three, do it, Vicky!

-Sorry, Lorraine, but I think it's you. You drunken slag.

-Jesus Christ.

-Right, can I go now?

-Yeah, get lost, Goodman.

-Shit!

-What the hell was that?

-Did I kill her?

-Of course you killed her.

-God, I hope she did it, mind.

-Why did you shoot Lorraine?

I just think hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

And Sleet scorned her, you know what I mean?

And she thought if she could frame him for this murder

and the police didn't want him any more, she'd get him back.

And not just that, she was able to identify

a Glock 17 as a standard-issue police weapon.

What type of woman knows that? I certainly didn't.

-Well done, Pattison.

-Bravo. Yes, absolutely brilliant police work.

-It was, of course, Lorraine Kelly.

-What? She did it?

Hell hath no fury. She was a woman scorned.

She did identify the Glock 17.

Pointing your Glock 17 at an innocent woman.

And you obviously saw the keys to Sleety's car in her bedroom, yes?

It couldn't have been Goodman

because his boarding pass showed he wasn't even in the country.

Yes, I've just come back from Tenerife.

And it couldn't have been Hamilton

because he couldn't even fucking drive.

-You know damn well why I can't drive, Sleet.

-Bravo.

-And I've got a feeling that my face is completely covered in blood.

-Yep.

-That's why we do this. Well done.

-Oh, chief. Silly old chief.

-Hey, how do you feel?

-I feel like I've just cleared your name, Sleety.

-Yeah, you did. You know something, Vicky?

-Yes, Sleety?

-It's still my birthday today.

-You're not wrong, like.

-Fancy going out?

-Let's go and get smashed.

-No, let's go get mortal.

-Here he is.

-Come on, son. Listen, have you ever slut-dropped?

-No, I haven't.

I think you'd be good at it, me.

Well, you'll have to teach me, Pattison.

-Don't worry about it.

-That's so Pattison.

# She's got a smile that it seems to me

# Reminds me of childhood memories

# Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

# Now and then when I see her face

# It takes me away to that special place

# And if I stare too long I'd probably break down and cry. #