Episode 3 Peaky Blinders

This programme contains some violent scenes and some strong language

-No fraternising with foreigners.

-My son will walk with any woman.

Your son can't walk anywhere with a bullet in each knee.

-You said you wanted peace at home.

-Now we go on the offensive.

You are a woman of substance and class.

I've painted many women. There'll be no charge.

The name I heard was Section D.

MPs. Army officers.

All we're trying to do is save the country from revolution.

This is for the killing of the spy.

And a down payment on future services.

Does your wife know that the sapphire

she's wearing has been cursed?

Nothing on Earth would make me wear it.

For Angel!

MUSIC: Red Right Hand by PJ Harvey

# Take a little walk to the edge of town

# And go across the tracks

# Where the viaduct looms, like a bird of doom

# As it shifts and cracks

# Where secrets lie in the border fires

# In the humming wires

# Hey, man, you know you're never coming back

# On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man

# In a dusty black coat with a red right hand... #

He's back.

Was he out there all night?

Every night since the funeral.

He comes back in the morning to see Charles and feed the horses.

And when it gets dark he goes off again.

He used to sleep out when he was a kid.

Curly'd find him in the pasture...

How's the baby?

He asks for his mum at night.

Tommy made a list. He wants to see you two first.

What about John and Arthur?

DOOR SLAMS

How are the books?

Unaffected.

Up slightly.

There's also been a three-fold increase in donations

to the Shelby Foundation charity.

The council have suggested naming the new school

the Grace Shelby Institute.

Tell the council the name Grace Shelby Institute

is acceptable to us.

This is a list of the other things I want doing.

That's all.

-Tommy...

-That's all, Pol.

And well done, both of you.

Right, let's go.

Erm, we've already seen him.

He wanted to see people in a particular order.

I can normally read him, but he's difficult to read.

So, be careful...

-I thought it was a fucking family meeting.

-Yeah.

All of us together, I thought.

John, he's grieving.

To see everyone together would be too much.

Yeah, well. Come on, John.

Arthur, we need him back.

Sabini and Solomons have already sent condolences and flowers.

So, it won't be long before they come trotting up the A1 like wolves.

Go on. There's a timetable.

Only good news.

There is only good news, Polly.

(Here we fucking go...)

There. There he is.

All right, Tom?

All right, boys?

We, erm...

We didn't get a chance to see you after the funeral.

Well, you disappeared on us, but, erm...

Well, me and John, we just wanted to say...

-Arthur. Shut up.

-All right.

All right. Now, talk to me.

We got to Angel at the hospital.

Where he laid, cut his throat. He's dead.

We cleared out the rest of the Italians

out of the south of the city...

They mostly went to the Black Country,

but we told Betty Kitchen to keep 'em moving.

-And Betty sends her condolences...

-What about the old man?

We interrogated his boys.

Yeah, he went to Liverpool.

-He's waiting for an immigrant ship to New York.

-When?

First ship sails Saturday.

All right.

I have contacts, people in Cunard at Liverpool.

They'll have passenger lists.

They can get you into the point of departure.

You pick him up and bring him to me.

Who's he got travelling with him?

His wife.

What?

His wife.

So, shoot her and bring him to me.

Tommy? Mrs Changretta was a teacher at our school.

She's a good woman, Tom. A good woman.

Well, if she's a good woman, then she'll go to Heaven, eh, Arthur?

Just do what's on the list. Nothing else. Then burn it.

And don't speak on the phones. The fucking secret service is listening.

And I want the old man alive.

I want to do it myself.

Right, that is it. You can go.

Come, John.

Tommy, if you ain't going to be here,

you're going to have to tell us something.

Ask Polly.

Not Michael?

What?

Not Michael, no?

No, not Michael, no.

Cos Michael deals with legitimate business.

You saw him before us.

John, not now.

Wait, what did you say?

You saw Michael before us.

For fuck's sake, John.

Because legitimate business, John, is the priority.

-Legitimate business...

-Since when?

Since my fucking wife took a bullet meant for me.

Oh, yeah. OK. It's all secret service. Secret fucking service.

Blah-blah-blah. But you don't tell us shit.

We are a couple of fucking toy soldiers. Do this, John.

Do that, John. Kill your fucking teacher, John.

Is this how it is going to be?

All right, listen to me.

There's going to be a little war,

in a little place that no-one gives a fuck about

and the side that is going to lose needs a little bit of help.

And they're willing to pay.

When that business is done, legitimate business is the priority.

Now, do what's on the list and fuck off.

And when are you coming back? Hmm?

I'm back, Arthur.

The thing is, we all naturally came in here.

Where the servants eat.

It's nothing to do with politics, Ada.

It's fucking freezing in the big room.

John, mind your language in front of Karl.

Ada, we're in the servants' quarters,

because it's where the fucking booze is kept.

Arthur, find better words.

Hey, Pol, does swearing in Gypsy count?

There is no reason for us

to be speaking Rocka or Shelta in any case.

THEY CHEER

Hey, I'm just saying there is no need.

When she's drunk, my wife can't speak fucking English.

-John!

-Fucking right.

You dealt with it?

Incentives, no threats.

Implied consequences without specific reference

to physical harm...

That's why young Michael is the boss.

He knows better words, right, Pol?

Since when was I your boss, Arthur?

First the boss' meeting, then the workers' meeting, eh?

When did either of you two do a day's work?

In the old days, Finn,

family meetings used to be all of us...

-..together.

-Arthur, shut up.

Now, me and John...

..we're just fucking binmen...

..whose duty it is to obey.

Hm?

Mrs Changretta.

Arthur.

Shut up.

Finn. Go and get his cigars.

So, what are we going to do all night, eh?

Climb fucking trees?

John, stop swearing in front of the kids.

Yeah, and who said you're staying the night?

I know what we can do.

We get the guns out, John.

We go outside and we shoot some fucking pheasants.

That's what the bosses do, innit?

Fuck off, Arthur...

The fuck did you just say to me?

I didn't ask for separate meetings today, all right?

What the fuck did you just say?

Cos I just didn't hear you right.

I didn't ask for separate meetings today. All right?

Fucking pheasant.

-Karl, you can't say things like that.

-Now look what you've done.

JOHN SNIGGERS

All right, brothers, it's just the fucking whiskey talking.

I don't ask to be protected, all right?

Right, shut up, the pair of you.

Sit down.

Sit down.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Look around you.

Look at this house.

Look where we are.

Look how far we've come.

I think it is time we all started acting

in a way more appropriate to our station.

We're none of us binmen any more, Arthur...

Tommy needs us all together.

I'd like to propose a toast.

SHE WHISPERS

It's a family united that shall never be defeated.

Tommy's gone, I swear to God, he is in a wagon with Johnny Dogs!

Shit!

This is what he does now.

Tommy! Wait!

-Arthur!

-Tommy!

Arthur, let him go.

-Tommy!

-Tommy!

-Tommy!

Walk on. Walk on.

-Tommy?

-Walk on.

They're coming out on the drive.

-Are you not going to tell them?

-Tell them what?

That we're going to Wales.

I left a note.

-Did you tell them why we're going to Wales?

-No.

At some point, are you going to tell me why we're going to Wales?

Yeah, when we get there.

Walk on.

Should've brought at least one woman, Tommy.

Johnny, it's a woman we're going to see.

-There, boy. Walk on.

-Right.

Walk on.

He says he'll be back in Birmingham in three days.

Let him go.

The important thing is if he says he'll be back,

he'll be back.

Come on, let's go light a fire in the big room.

Let's go drink whiskey.

With water.

Go see to the horses, Johnny.

Right, Tom.

So, we'll go out through Meriden and into the Black Mountains.

Yeah.

Here, give me some. Good boy.

Here you go.

Now, remember last night when you asked after Mama?

She's gone, Charlie, and there's a few things

we need to get this straight.

There's her photographs, there's her clothes.

We will keep things the way they are in the room.

Just...keep things the way they are.

There you go.

There, here you go.

I'm not much good, Charlie.

And they'll find that out soon enough.

But she's not going to be coming back, so it's just you and me.

But she'll be with us in our hearts.

Cos we love her.

-Tommy?

-Yeah?

-This fucking horse of yours won't come to me.

-All right.

-Huh? Come on.

All right! I'll be there. All right.

That was her favourite horse, Charlie.

And he's been all over the place since she's gone.

-Tom?

-Yeah, you watch him.

I will, yeah. Huh?

Right.

Now, cock it with your thumb.

LAUGHTER

There you go.

Now, she's been cocked.

-JOHN HOWLS

-She's alive in your hand.

It's like waking up a girl when you cock that trigger.

Oh, yeah.

She rolls over all sleepy-eyed and she goes, "Michael...Michael..."

"What you going to make me do, Michael?"

You boys are fucking crazy men.

Yeah. But you feel it though, right?

You feel it.

Yeah. You can feel the power.

Now...

squeeze it.

Ah, fuck...

Fucking useless.

Piss off, John.

Michael, why does a pen pusher who sits on his arse all day

want to fire a gun? Hm? Eh?

Cock it again.

Cock it again!

Cock it again. Round two.

Oh.

Look at that fucking face, John Boy.

Look at that face.

Now he feels it.

But you won't feel nothing

until you point that thing at a man.

So, do it.

There you go, young boss.

There you go. Now you feel it.

Now you feel what we feel.

This is what it's like.

Michael, that is a Webley.

It jumps on the hammer.

How does it feel, Michael, huh?

Better than having a pen in your hand, innit?

More like having your cock in your hand. Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

Yeah.

One squeeze...

..I'm gone.

I'm fucking meat.

Michael, you fucking watch that Webley don't jump you know that.

When you've pulled that fucking trigger

and the body of the man you've shot wraps itself around your ankles.

They pile up.

It gets to the point where you can't walk in a room

without bringing a load of them with you.

What's going on?

What's going on?

Polly, we're just educating the boss here on our side of the business.

Michael, get in the house...

I'm not a fucking kid any more.

MUSIC: Burn The Witch by Queens Of The Stone Age

# Holding hands

# Skipping like a stone

# On our way to see what we have done

# The first to speak is the first to lie

# The children cross their hearts and hope to die

# Bite your tongue

# Swear to keep your mouth shut

# Burn the witch Burn to ash and bone

# Burn the witch Burn to ash and bone

# Burn the witch Burn to ash and bone... #

-You've come to tell me it's cancelled.

-No. Why would it be?

-I read the papers.

-This is business.

It won't work.

I told your brother.

This whole fucking plan won't work.

And if Tommy wants to keep this secret,

tell him there was a woman in a fur coat walking through here

in broad daylight like the Queen Of fucking Sheba

asking about armoured cars.

During a period of grieving some things were allowed to slip.

We know the woman. We're dealing with it.

Now, take a look at this list.

These are all the men who work the night shift

who are members of the South Birmingham Communist Party.

You've got six weeks.

Sack them all.

Are you fucking mad?

He is.

Yeah.

Every factory in the city will come out on strike...

So?

You find reasons.

You set them up.

You sack them.

Look at the list again.

Are there any communists on your shift who aren't on the list?

No.

Please, don't fucking lie to us.

Who's missing?

I don't know.

Emmanuel Hunter.

Hm?

Convener.

Deputy treasurer of the Sparkhill Communist Party.

Lathe operator to you.

I didn't know he was a communist.

We left that name off the list on purpose

to see if you could be trusted.

And you can't be trusted.

Look, I'm just a working man.

We're going to be watching you.

-Watching your fucking house.

-I've got kids.

Mm.

Edna and John.

Just get them sacked.

As they appear on the list.

Two a week.

The last one before the clocks go forward.

Is that a yes or a no?

-Yes.

-Thank you.

Good. Good.

Do you think he'll return?

Tommy?

He will always come back.

-You speak differently when you talk...

-Yeah, I prefer to talk

about other things.

Let me see.

What books do you like?

Riding? Flower arranging? Embroidery?

You'd be surprised at the things I know.

But you'd also be surprised at the things I don't know.

What can you possibly not know?

I wasn't educated...

..at all.

What is there to learn after all?

Goodness.

I'm sorry. You must need a rest.

Do you tell your friends you're painting a gangster?

Is that the fun in all of this?

In truth, I don't have any friends.

I knew everyone through my wife.

When she died...

Well...

Look, Polly, my motivation for doing this is twofold.

Firstly, you have a face full of contradictions

and it's a challenge to capture them in one expression.

That's the sales pitch.

The second motivation is that

I am planning to seduce you eventually

and please, God, sleep with you.

How will that please God?

Please me.

And stop.

And he didn't say what he wants?

When he was drunk he said, "Absolution."

Other than that, nothing.

Thank you for your time, Madam Boswell.

I heard someone shot your wife.

If you're looking for soldiers, our men are all up at Appleby.

I have no need of soldiers. That's not why I came here.

What do you think?

You're selling?

Giving.

-Why?

-Would you take it?

I'd take it.

-Would you wear it?

-Why would I not?

That's my question.

My wife was wearing it the night she was shot.

And...

I lie awake at night.

At four in the fucking morning and I blame myself for her death.

I pushed some people too far.

You want me to tell you this jewel is cursed.

And then her death won't all be your fault.

If I believed in priests,

I would confess and ask for forgiveness.

But all I have is you, Madame Boswell.

I have a son.

I have a business.

I need to get some sleep.

It is cursed.

I feel its curse burning through my hand.

Bless you, Tommy Shelby.

You'll have good fortune from now on.

-The business is done?

-It's done.

Are you not going to give me one fucking clue what that was about?

All religion is a foolish answer to a foolish question.

What does that mean?

We will go and get Charlie from the camp.

He'll have learned enough bad habits by now.

Then you can drop us at the train station.

And, Johnny boy, if I were you, tonight I'd come back here tonight.

Because later on...

..there's going to be one hell of a big fucking party.

Check the day and date on your ticket.

If you can't read, find someone who can.

Tickets for sailings other than today's will be destroyed.

He has people all over the docks.

If it's going to happen, it will happen now.

We'll be all right.

Why don't these Irish fill in their papers in advance?

Think about Mott Street.

The cafe. The smell of the coffee.

Police! Help! Police!

Officer, there are some men. They mean us harm.

We are in danger here. Can you escort us to the dock?

Please.

Come with me...

Excuse me, brother, have you got a light?

Thank you, Officer, that will be all.

John Shelby.

Is that the lad I used to teach?

John Shelby, I smacked your arse.

Let him go.

Please... Please, let her go.

Arthur, how many times I looked the other way

because of your sweet smile.

I said let him go, he's coming with us.

Not until I know my wife is safe.

She's safe.

We're not going to harm her.

Just get a move on.

Look, we are disobeying Tommy's orders just by talking to you.

Don't push it.

Please, come with us. Let him go.

Let him go, too. Say it's done.

Say he's in the harbour.

He can do you no harm from New York.

I can't do that, Mrs Changretta.

-I can't do that, sorry.

-OK. It's OK. Audrey, listen.

-No!

-Listen to me!

Go to the cafe in Mott Street.

Benito will take care of you.

Let him go, too! He's an old man!

I gave you sweets and cakes.

Mrs Changretta. There are rules.

Your husband knows the rules.

-Come on, old man.

-No!

Sorry.

We're disobeying orders here!

LET HIM FUCKING GO!

You have ten seconds, or Tommy's orders stand.

They stand.

One, two...

Please!

..three...

I love you...forever!

..four...

No! No! No!

America. A new life.

No. No. No.

A new life.

MUSIC: Tupelo by Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds

# Look yonder

# Look yonder A big, black cloud come

# A big, black cloud come

# Here come to Tupelo.

# Come to Tupelo

# Yonder on the horizon Yonder on the horizon

# Stopped at the mighty river

# And sucked the damn thing dry

# Distant thunder rumble Distant thunder rumble

# Rumble hungry like the Beast

# The Beast, it cometh, cometh down # The Beast, it cometh, cometh down

# The Beast, it cometh, cometh down

-# Oh, Tupelo bound

-Tupelo

# Yeah, the black rain come down The black rain come down

# Water, water everywhere

# Where no bird can fly no fish can swim

# No fish can swim

# Until the king is born Until the king is born

# Tupelo! #

VICENTE MUTTERS IN ITALIAN

Do you know what time it is, old man?

I'll tell you.

It's after seven in the evening.

And I am going to keep you alive until it gets light.

I'll not to deliver the final cut

until we can both hear the blackbirds singing outside.

It's a beautiful sound.

Which my wife will never hear again.

VICENTE MUTTERS AGAIN

Now, I am going to have to choose carefully which part of you

I cut away first.

Open your eyes.

Open your eyes, or I will cut away your fucking eyelids.

Now, look at me.

Look at me.

This is the end.

This is the end.

It was your tongue that gave the order.

I'll take your tongue first.

Then I'll take your ears.

Then I'll take your fingers,

and your fucking toes.

See, I take your balls first, you drain too fast.

Like you fuckers do.

I think tongue first.

VICENTE MOANS

Tongue first.

If I take your tongue, you won't be able to explain.

And I want you to explain.

I want you to fucking explain.

VICENTE MUTTERS IN ITALIAN

Come on, Tommy.

I forget who I am.

I forget who I am.

I'm a Blinder.

I'll take your FUCKING EYES FIRST!

GUNSHOT, WET SQUELCHING

I heard the blackbird sing.

And we let his wife board the immigrant ship to New York.

We didn't kill Mrs Changretta.

Tonight.

We're not those kind of men.

MUSIC: Soldier's Things by Tom Waits

# Oh, and this one is for bravery

# When this one is for me

# And everything's a dollar in this box... #

You get rid of the body, John.

And get rid of those.

For good.

# ..Cuff links and hub caps

# And trophies and paperbacks

# It's good transportation but the brakes aren't so hot

# Neckties and boxing gloves

# This jackknife is rusted

# You can pound that dent out on the hood

# A tinker, a tailor

# A soldier's things

# His rifle, his boots full of rocks

# Oh, and this one is for bravery

# Oh, and this one is for me

# And everything's a dollar in this box... #

Did you do what was on your list, Ada?

You and your fucking lists.

Did you?

I spoke to an old friend of Freddie's.

He's a Communist-Party candidate for Balsall Heath.

I asked him about the Birmingham branch

of the National Vigilance Committee.

He said he'd heard the Soviet Embassy

was getting information from the inside.

And...did you get a name?

Yes.

But just promise me no-one will get killed.

Ada, it will be me, or John, or Arthur who gets killed

if you don't give me the fucking name.

There's someone ahead of us and I need to know why.

James Monkland.

He's a Lloyd's underwriter. He's got an office on Curzon Street.

Tommy, for fuck's sake, who is it that's ahead of you?

I knew I could count on you, Ada.

No, you can't. And I just asked you a fucking question.

And I notice you started wearing lipstick again.

So what?

I got bored...

You can change what you do, but you can't change what you want.

And what is it that I want?

There's going to be a vacancy coming up in Shelby Company Limited.

Boston office.

Boston, America?

Lipstick, clothes from Paris,

no revolvers, all legal.

Just turn a few heads. Do the transit deals.

MUSIC: Don't Sit Down Cos I've Moved Your Chair by Arctic Monkeys

# Break a mirror Roll the dice

# Run with scissors Through a chip pan fire fight... #

James Monkland, right?

Goodnight, our Ada.

# ..Go into business with a grizzly bear

# But just don't sit down cos I've moved your chair... #

-James Monkland.

-Yours, sir.

Who the hell are you?

What do you want with me?

You have been passing information about a robbery

at the Lanchester Factory in Sparkbrook.

Are you...

Tommy Shelby?

I need to know the name of the person in the organisation

who's giving you information.

What organisation?

The Economic League, the Vigilance Committee, the Odd Fellows.

Section D.

They have many fucking names.

Shit, shit shit...

Give me the name of the informant.

Mr Shelby.

They are very, very, dangerous people.

Oh. Oh...

Well, unfortunately, so are we.

You have to choose who you're more afraid of.

The Peaky Blinders at exactly 11.43,

or Section D at some point in the future.

If you make the wrong choice you won't see 11.44.

Do they always have to do the stocktaking at night, Arthur?

-Only cos you know it slows down production.

-Mm.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Night work will have to end.

It will. It will.

You'll have things to do at night.

Yeah.

Yeah, I know.

We've spoken about it.

I was going to wait until you had a strong cup of tea in your hand.

Come on then.

But, erm... I'm going to have a baby, Arthur.

Pregnant?

Yeah.

You said you spent the night taking stock.

Well, so did I.

This working at night will have to stop.

We're going to have a baby?

Yes.

Oh, it's great news.

Right then, let's have a cup of tea.

Come on.

Come on. Let's have that tea.

Arthur, for fuck's sake. What is it?

No. We wait for Tommy.

I've got a stolen statue back there with its dick hanging out

waiting to be melted down.

Tell us. Tell Tommy later...

Yeah. Look he's not here. He's not here, I'm going.

-Hold your horses.

-Right, Curly. Come on.

-There he is.

-All right, what is it?

He's fucking given us all this shit.

-Come on. Come on.

-Right!

Arthur, you've got wire on the fucking cork. Give it here.

Bastard!

Right, gentlemen.

Linda...

..is up the Swannee, I am going to become a fucking dad.

Fuck off!

LAUGHTER

Yes, Guy.

Arthur, I knew you had it in you.

I knew he had it in him.

September, she reckons. Her tits feel different already.

That's not the only thing that's going to be different, Brother.

You're fucked now, man.

Fucked. Absolutely fucked.

No. Nothing's going to change, John.

Goodbye, Arthur.

I've a meeting I have to go to.

Yeah. Yeah. Course you do.

Yeah. You, erm...

You go to your meeting.

Congratulations.

-I'm going to be a dad.

-Proud of you.

Your Highness, Mr Thomas Shelby.

Welcome, Mr Shelby, I believe you've met everyone

apart from my wife.

Grand Duchess Izabella Petrovna.

Please, take a seat.

Before we begin, Mr Shelby, we must offer you our sincere

condolences on your recent loss...

..which some of us witnessed.

-Did you drive, Mr Shelby?

-Yes.

-They say you are an expert on cars.

-Yes, I am.

-I am curious. What was your father's profession?

-Well, he, erm...

He told fortunes and stole horses.

Often he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen

and they would marvel at his powers when it was.

Before we eat, should we say grace?

For what we are about to receive

may the Lord make us truly thankful.

-Amen.

-I'm not here to eat, I'm here to do business.

What I have to say can be said before the main course.

Then I will leave you all to your evening.

Grand Duchess, I must apologise for the bad manners of my compatriot.

This is a report on the mission's progress so far.

I've made only one copy for security.

Who should I give it to?

My husband is in charge of this operation.

But since there will no doubt be vodka later,

perhaps you should give it to me for safekeeping.

Speak, Mr Shelby, while we eat.

Five factory foremen on our payroll have begun a campaign

of victimisation against communist workers in five factories

across Birmingham.

Anger amongst the workers will grow, but we will control it.

On the night of June 21st, a general strike will be called

across the city.

Protests will develop into riots.

And all police who are not already under our control will be busy.

-The city will be paralysed.

-So, how will you move the train?

We have two locomotive drivers who have been allocated to drive

the midnight-goods train to London.

The armoured vehicles will be waiting on flat beds.

-And the ammunition?

-The ammunition...

I have to say that this soup is exceptional.

Absolutely delicious.

Ammunition, incendiaries, will already have been packed up

and crated for transport to Istanbul.

And how long to London?

The train won't reach London.

All the goods will be unloaded at a coal yard

in St Albans and put onto Shelby-Company trucks.

From there, they will go directly to the Poplar Docks.

Your Highness, if you're having difficulty understanding

his accent then I can go through the plan with you at a later date.

If there is no ship waiting for my men,

all goods will be dumped into the sea before first light.

And what happens when they discover the armoured cars are missing?

During the rioting the Lanchester Factory will be firebombed.

A scrap-metal dealer of my acquaintance

will declare that all the armoured vehicles are in the wreckage

and should be written off as salvage.

No-one will know that they are in your possession.

We formulated this plan when we met at Birmingham.

I'm certain that nothing has been overlooked.

This, erm...

is the amount of extra expense

I believe I will incur

for trucks and fuels.

I trust you will respond in kind.

But of course, Mr Shelby.

Before I go, I would like it known that

I am unable to swallow food in the same room as this priest.

Enjoy your evening.

Tatiana? See Mr Shelby to his car.

Yes.

Walk with me.

The priest is passing information about the robbery

to a Lloyd's underwriter called Monkland.

He, in turn, is passing information to the Soviet Embassy.

If you want him dead, I will kill him. No charge.

Why would the priest pass information to our enemies?

I'm being paid to act and to observe, like a soldier.

The complexities are your business.

Go and speak to Izabella. I trust her to decide.

You are able to continue your business dealings

even after what happened.

Perhaps you didn't love her.

She's here.

By my side.

And she says, "Don't trust these people."

Now, get me permission to kill the priest.

# On a gathering storm

# Comes a tall handsome man

# In a dusty black coat

# With a red right hand. #