Fresh Meat (2011) s04e03 Episode Script
Series 4, Episode 3
1 O mio babbino caro Mi piace, e bello, bello Vo'andare in Porta Rossa A comperar I'anello! Are you ready? Can you believe 50% of our mark is about to be decided? Something terrible has happened.
What? Well, when I was writing this, I had this amazing feeling like it was the most original thought-provoking dissertation ever written.
In the English language.
But now, looking back over it well, it's more like the tedious meandering waffle of a madwoman.
What's going on? You're probably just too close to it to be objective.
Want me to? Fuck off.
What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What I'm thinking is what they're gonna want is a playlist of the self.
Five songs that distil my essence.
Who is Kingsley Owen? They will ask you about your work ethic, or if you are a team player.
No, no, no, no, no.
They're gonna be like "Do you dig Miles?" You just don't want to be pretentious or, you know boring.
I have to get back to the office.
Um, cool.
I'll call you later, yeah? Let you know how it goes? Cool.
I may come with you on the Megabus.
I'm applying for a job at Ordnance Survey, but they're based in London.
I need to do a recce of the surrounding environment, make sure we're compatible.
I don't want to work for Ordnance Survey if it requires, for example, being kettled by Metropolitan Police on a daily basis, as happened on my last visit to London.
I'm pretty sure you're not going to get randomly kettled on the way to work, Howard.
Oh, Kingsley doesn't "think" I'll get kettled.
How reassuring And yet experience tells me that on 100% of my visits to London, I have been kettled.
Therefore, it is only sensible to make sure.
So, can I come? I guess, but you have to be ready early, OK? Oh, don't you worry.
I'll be ready.
Hi, Tony.
Thanks for calling.
Um I've got two minutes, so let me download the facts and then you can respond, OK? Basically, Jeanette Winterson has agreed to be our judge for the Shawcross Uh-huh.
Uh-huh, yes, it's fabulous.
But the thing is, she only has time to judge the two best poems.
Now, what I need is someone to read through the bulk of the poems and choose Jeanette's two.
A stableboy, if you will.
Someone to shovel through the shit and find the gold.
And I thought of you.
Now, I know that lecturers don't make the big money any more, so, er, I can offer you Ð100 plus expenses.
Because I'm offering you the chance to work with Jeanette Winterson! Oh, thank you.
That's great.
OK, you won't regret this.
I promise.
Rosa, why are there six angry men in wheelchairs in my office, shouting at me? They are protesting your decision to take away their minibus.
I didn't take away their minibus.
It's the murderball team.
That's the murderball team.
Yes, that's the murderball team.
No, that's the murderball team.
OK, why do we keep saying it? Those men in wheelchairs are the murderball team.
"Murderball" is another word for wheelchair rugby.
Yes, you took away their special minibus.
The one that takes them from the outreach programme to the disadvantaged youth centre.
And you used the money to fund poems for a prize named after yourself.
Obviously, you knew that.
Because you wouldn't slash funding for something without understanding what it was for, would you? Oh, no.
Where's our bus? Where's our bus? Ohh.
Oregon, are you about for a chat? Vod, can we have a talk about? Yes, hello, Nightline? I need to talk to someone.
About something I've done.
Something terrible.
I've had sex with JP before.
Quite a few times.
But this is the first time we've ever done it sober.
I fucking hate myself.
Yeah, well, I would talk to my friends about it, except they're all third years and they're too busy, so I'm in this on my own.
Maybe I need to detach myself from these people.
Try and be more self-sufficient.
More independent.
Yeah, I'm the guy who, yeah, will listen to I'm Ready by Royal Trux when he gets fucked on Jack.
But sees no contradiction in rolling out of bed the next day and slowly grooving to Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond while he sips his morning latte.
No, wait Well the family baton has been foisted upon me.
So, here I am.
About to don my father's suit and go for a job in the City with a starting salary of 100K.
I tried so hard to escape my destiny.
But alas, she has come to claim me.
Have you tried that hard, though? I mean, really? Of course I have.
You wouldn't understand.
You don't have a destiny.
But people like me we always have a destiny.
And we must always fulfil that destiny.
Because if we didn't, the whole fabric of society would unravel.
I mean, what would happen if people like me stopped quietly accepting their privilege and started shirking the responsibility of being in charge of everything? We are overwhelmed with gratitude.
Eurgh.
Another shit one.
Add that to the shit pile.
Where's the good pile? There is no good pile.
They're all shit.
Hi, Nas, have they gone yet? Well, they're gonna have to eat and sleep at some point, so can you just let me know when they've given up? Ooh, To The President.
This sounds hopeful.
It might be political.
"You took away my rugby You took away my bus "You took away all hopes and dreams from us.
" OK, well, that doesn't even scan properly.
"I hope you die of something Like tetanus or Aids "If I wasn't in a wheelchair I'd dance upon your grave.
" Shit.
Oh! No, not a-shitting-nother one.
Oh, sweaty fucking Christ.
Right, you dozy fuckers.
Let's do a bong.
What did you just say? I said, load up the billy, I wanna smoke a bowl.
- Why are you talking like that? - Like what? Also, um, I need a new nickname.
- The Idiot? - Something, um, cool and catchy and something people will chant, like, er you know, Josie is - Cosy.
- No! Something cool.
People already think I'm too nice.
I've got it.
- Ohh! Leave me alone.
- OK, what about? Listen.
What about - Jobbo? - No.
- Jobbo, yeah? - It sounds like a cross between a blow job and a poo.
- No, it doesn't.
- I don't like Jobbo.
Guess what? Jobbo doesn't care if you don't like her.
That's what makes her so fucking likeable.
I need a lift right now.
- Oregon? - Where? - Er, West Wittering.
- Yeah, great.
Where's that? Is it far? - Quite far.
- Great.
- Where are you going? - Just a little getaway.
Not like driving away fast from the scene of a crime or anything.
Just like a mini-break.
- Is it? - Sort of, yeah.
Er, I need to see an old friend, Paz, down at a free space commune.
Is that my lipstick? No.
Can I come? Sorry, Jose, it's not really a group thing.
Oregon's just gonna drop me down there.
A commune's not really a group thing? Right, so you're going, Oregon's going, and the three boys are going to London.
So, if I don't go, I'll just be here on my own like Robinson Crusoe and I'll end up talking to a beachball and eating my own legs, or something.
No.
I'll just get fresh knickers.
- No - Why are you going to West Wittering? Need to see an old friend.
Get some advice.
I'll explain more later, yeah? Shall we? Wait for Jobbo.
So, we introduce me as Jobbo, yeah? Cos that's my new name now.
What the fuck is that? What, this? This is Jobbo's marijuana cap.
Who the fuck is Jobbo? I'm Jobbo.
It's my new nickname.
Anyway, according to their website, your anarchist commune do shamanic eraldaketa sessions.
They do what? Completely changes your personality for a significant amount of time.
Jobbo's gonna take some.
- No, she is not.
- Yes, she fucking is.
Shamanic eraldaketa? That's pure fucking Jobbo.
There it is.
- That's free space? - Yeah.
- I thought it'd be more - Ye-e-eah.
Why are we here again? Er, see Paz, my friend from my band.
You'll like her, Oregon.
She's a sand-poet.
She's a what? Oh, there she is.
Oi, Paz.
Nas? What? But it's been 24 hours.
How can they still be there? Jesus Christ, what more do they want from me? - Everything OK? - Yeah.
Everything's brilliant.
- Oh, Vod! Welcome.
- Ahh! I'm the guy with Dropout Boogie by Beefheart going in one earphone, and September by Earth Wind & Fire in the other.
Hurry up, I've got just enough time to get to my interview.
- What's the quickest way to Temple? - Haven't you checked? Well, no, I thought they'd send a car.
Oh, here, I've got a map.
Howard's day bag has useful items for every eventuality.
Mind the gap.
- Oh, hold on, that's my application.
- Get on with it! Get on! I'm gonna be late.
- Howard, get on the train.
- Come on! Driver! What's the protocol now? - Do we get off at the next station and go back? - What if Howard's got on the next train, then he gets off at the next station and goes back, but we're already on the next train forwards? - I don't have time for this shit.
- We'll just call him when we get above ground.
Howard's from Glasgow, isn't he? He can look after himself.
And then I printed out my essay and that was just loads of meaningless bits of paper all put together.
And now I'm thinking I don't know what to do.
That is an obscene amount of money to spend on shuttlecocks.
I say we cut Bad Soc funding in half and send that back to murderball.
Yeah, uh-huh.
Mm, uh-huh.
Mm-hm.
OK, OK.
Now read me the budget for hockey.
Why not get yourself a meaningless bit of paper, if that's what you want? I don't know if it is what I want.
You know, and I owe all this money and, ugh, no idea how I'm gonna pay it back, and what if it was like the band? - Cor! - You know? Cos at the beginning, we were all like, we're gonna be famous, our lyrics are gonna change the world, and we actually believed it.
- Yeah! Then we were, like, sleeping in the back of a van for three years.
Tssh.
Ohh.
What if this whole university thing's just another pointless dream? Oh, come on.
Come on.
All I'm saying is, there's no boundaries any more.
We're in a post-genre landscape.
It's fucking anarchy.
And I'm just watching it all play out with Forever Changes by Love on heavy rotation.
OK, then, peeps.
Let's kick things off with the first question.
Er, Kingsley, how would you describe your work ethic? So, what's with this Jobbo thing, then? You just imagined a new personality out of thin air? - Yeah, why not? - Where'd you get your, er, inspiration? Oh, where'd you get your lipstick? - I got it from a really crazy little shop you've never even heard of.
- Oh.
What can I say? When God made Jobbo, - he broke the mould.
- Hi, guys.
Right, some more info.
All right, there we are.
First of all, let me say how impressed we are with your CV.
And from what your brother's told me, I think you're exactly the kind of chap we're looking for here at Frome & Harrington.
I'm just gonna run you through a couple of simple questions.
I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle.
What do you feel you'd bring to the role of wealth manager's assistant? Mm.
I'd probably bring cheese sandwiches.
- I'm sorry? - And a little flask of tea.
You know, one of those ones with the little detachable cup on top.
I meant qualities you'd bring that make you suitable for the role.
OK.
First up I've got a great sense of humour.
No? Um Sure.
I can see you're looking at me, thinking, "Jonathan, wouldn't it, for example, be better to mention something like maths at this point?" But, actually, I'd be up for any kind of evil shit you want me to undertake.
Er, gambling with people's pensions, lying about investments, hiding Nazi gold.
Sign me up.
I just wanna get my Christmas bonus.
And I will do literally anything to get it.
So, yeah, I guess you could put that down as a quality.
I dunno what you'd call that.
Grasping? Greedy? Ruthless? - Amoral.
- Yes, Jonathan, that's not quite what I meant.
- Look - Oh! I don't care about the old people or the poor people, any kind of people, except our people.
Hm? Now, that is what makes me right for this job.
Shall I take your plate? Time for washing-up duty.
OK, that's it.
I can't take any more.
Tell me what's going on here, please, Vod.
- What d'you mean? - I mean you have to have a trick up your sleeve, right? Like, um Like we're gonna steal all the drugs.
Or a really hot guy's gonna turn up who we all wanna have sex with, who maybe we will all have sex with, cos it's just that kind of vibe.
I'm not sure I follow.
I'm talking about this place and how you've gotta have some sort of ulterior motive for being here.
Because it can't be over a desire to do washing-up duty or read a big book of rules, can it, Vod? - Shh.
- This isn't you.
Yeah, well, maybe you don't know me as well as you thought.
Sorry, no smoking in the main hall.
Yeah, not so much anarchist commune as, er, nanny state, eh, Paz? Listen, Jobbo.
I've gotta live with these people, OK? So, try not to piss 'em off.
What d'you mean, live with them? You are coming back to Manchester, aren't you, Vod? OK, fine, look, I didn't wanna make a big fuss about it, but I might be moving here.
- When? - Now.
You can't just drop out right before your exams.
That's madness.
Why d'you care, Jobbo? OK, guys, if I call your name, you're through to the next round.
If I don't call your name, thanks so much for coming, you haven't made it this time, but there is feedback available over by Simeon.
OK? So - Juniper.
- Yes! Frankie.
Hannah.
And Asif.
Yeah! Thank you.
Everyone else, thanks for your time and all the best for the future.
OK, let's crack on with round two.
Oh, and don't forget your feedback.
Feedback.
Some feedback.
Oh! Feedback, yeah.
Thanks.
Because what I need in the wake of this all-crushing and, frankly, heartbreaking failure is a big list of what's wrong with me.
Yes, please, BBC 6 Music.
While you're at it, why don't you cut my throat and ask if I mind if you stamp on my head? Your moustache is horrid, by the way.
There's my "feedback" for you.
How do you like it? Feedback's optional.
Thanks.
Thank you.
- To freedom.
- Yeah.
Except I don't wanna be free.
I wanna be an intern at BBC 6 Music.
And instead, I get fucking feedback.
Knutsford, I think you're taking this all too much to heart.
What did the feedback say? - I don't know, I didn't take it.
- You didn't take it? When someone rejects you, the last thing you want is a list of reasons.
I just thought it might be useful for next time.
If you get another interview.
- Where the fuck is Howard? - I textedhim and told him to meet us here.
- I'll text him again.
- I should've taken the feedback.
- I should've read what they had to say so I could be better next time.
Oh, shit! Oh, shit.
Howard's phone.
Thanks to the invention of the hand-held device, I don't have one useful telephone number memorised.
And all I can think to do is call the operator and speak to John at Ordnance Survey, ask for his help, but how can I admit to the man at Ordnance Survey that I'm lost? I mean, look at me.
First morning in the capital and I'm already destitute.
Rita, this may sound strange, but can you spare me some change? You came all the way to London just to commit interview suicide? Fuck Tomothy.
I went and did his stupid little interview and now he needs to let go of my balls.
And if he doesn't let go of my balls, I'm gonna tell him to suck on my balls.
I did his stupid interview.
He didn't say how well I had to do it.
I'm my own man.
I will not be dictated to by my brother.
- I shall do as I wish.
- Like what? - Dunno.
Something amazing.
- For example? For example, think of something amazing to do and then do it amazingly.
You're not worried? At all? I'm not worried.
Why would I be worried? And even if I was worried, I wouldn't allow myself to feel worried, because feelings of weakness only make other people uncomfortable.
If one boy cries, we all want to cry.
And since we all want to cry, but we also don't want to cry, we need to beat the boy who's crying to stop him from crying.
- You see? - Oh.
Oh, shit.
Tomothy.
Shit.
Jonathan, it's your brother.
I've just had a phone call from Magda.
She told me what you did, you little shit.
D'you really think you're gonna get away with this? Isn't this when you get out there and tell him to suck your? Shh.
Daddy's turning in his grave, JP.
Squirming in his fucking grave.
If he wasn't already dead, he'd probably die of shame.
Just call me back straightaway, or I'm calling Mummy.
Paz tells me you're joining us.
Yeah.
Need to get away for a while, go off-grid for a bit.
Yeah.
I know what you mean.
Best decision I ever made, escaping all that shit.
- Job? Mortgage? - You just don't need it.
Wife? Two kids? Had the lot.
It weighs on you.
You know, that kind of baggage.
Out here, no way they can track me down.
Haven't even got a phone.
It's brilliant.
Hello, Ordnance Survey, John speaking.
How can I help? Hi, John, it's Howard here.
- I'm sorry? - Howard McGregor.
We've been exchanging e-mails about my potential application for a job at your company.
Howard, of course.
How can I help? I'm in London with no phone, no money, no access to GPS, and my only piece of navigational equipment is the old-fashioned compass.
I was wondering if you might be able to help me.
Go on.
Oh Sorry, I changed my mind.
I want my feedback.
At the time, I didn't wanna know my faults, but now I do.
I mean, I already know one of my faults was not wanting to know my faults.
- But I'm ready now.
- You were at the workshop? - That's right.
- Yeah, I'm sorry, I think we put all the unwanted feedback in the bin.
- Oh.
- What was your name again? Er, Kingsley Owen.
Could you just maybe maybe just tell me what it was so I can be better next time? - Right, Kingsley.
Yeah, what did we say about you? Er Ooh, was it, maybe, um Some of my opinions were half-baked? - Er - Did you find me pretentious? Or annoying? My personality can be grating? - Well - I'm inauthentic, maybe? I'm boring? Um Oh, no, wait.
Um, I'm a people-pleaser.
I'm indecisive? - Sorry, were you in today or yesterday? - Um Well, today.
It was It was It was today.
Right, it's just we've been running these workshops all week, I'm ever so sorry.
Um I'm the guy who listens to I'm Ready by Royal Trux when he gets fucked up on Jack, but then - Right, yes! Now I remember, yeah.
Yeah, I asked what music you liked and you were talking for about half an hour and I couldn't really work out what your answer was.
It was all, like, "Oh, I don't really believe in genres.
" But, you know, all I wanted to know was D'you like U2 or do you not? I'm sorry, I don't really understand the question.
Cut golf, cut fencing, cut fucking Juggle Soc, OK, Nas, I don't care.
Just do it.
You know the radio waves from that thing are being absorbed by your brain? It's OK, I don't mind.
Is that? - Are you doing your poetry? - Yeah.
You can write better poems in the sand than in any of your fucking books.
I've written over 1,000 poems in the sand.
I've written a whole screenplay in the sand.
- Awesome.
- And once they're finished no-one will ever read them.
- Right, and that's good, is it? - Right, so, are we ready to begin? Yes.
In the words of Shirley Bassey, Pink and Welsh hero Rhydian Roberts from The X Factor, - let's get this party started.
- Wait.
Before you drink, you must cleanse the space.
Speak your truth.
If you don't, you can have a very, very bad trip.
I once hallucinated 1,000 Jabba the Hutts crawling out of my eye sockets and ejaculating onto my breasts.
Yeah? So, unless you want that, get any little grudges, any secrets, out in the open.
Cos once you drink this stuff, it is all coming out, one way or another.
Ring this bell when you're ready.
I'll come and pour the eraldaketa.
Yeah.
Mm-hm.
Mm-hm.
Yes, thank you.
Howard Anyone who can find their way to HQ using nothing more than latitudinal coordinates and an old-fashioned compass might be just the kind of candidate we're looking for here at Ordnance Survey.
And especially one with such great taste in knitwear.
Well, now you've got me, are there any questions you'd like to ask me? Well actually, I wanted to ask if you could see your way to lend me?29 in cash? You what? That is the peak-time fare from London to Manchester, without which, unless I manage to meet up with my friends, I won't be able to make it home.
I would, of course, repay you.
Perhaps at my interview.
And, yes, I should have checked what murderball was, but I've been really busy with Fulbright and my dissertation and the Shawcross.
And what have I learned? That I can't trust my staff.
And I guess I'm also feeling really bad because I haven't read any good poems and I need to find one to send to Jeanette Winterson.
But I'll get round to it after we've finished this.
Er, OK, I think I'm done.
Jobbo? You got something? OK, so, um I was hoping to find a better time to talk about this, but I think I need to say it now because I'm quite afraid of having a bad trip.
Yeah, no big deal, but I woke up yesterday morning and it turns out that I had had sex with JP.
Again.
You We've actually, um done it quite a few times recently, regularly.
So yeah.
OK.
There's no need to look at me like that, all right, Mrs Judge and Mrs Judgey.
OK? I'm not going out with him.
It's just sex.
Jobbo is very much like Vod in that respect.
I just use men and I dump 'em when I'm through with 'em.
How's that like me? You know what I mean.
I don't give a shit about anyone else's feelings.
I just chuck people away whenever I decide to move on.
OK.
Er Oh, I've got one.
- I fucked JP.
- What?! - Really? - Yeah.
No.
Or was it the other one? Maybe it was another house.
When we all went to Liverpool on that night.
- We've never been to Liverpool.
- Oh, yeah.
No, I didn't wanna fuck JP.
So, I didn't.
Right, take this seriously.
We're meant to be speaking our truth.
All right.
Here's one.
I don't like Jobbo.
- I think Jobbo's a wanker.
- What?! How can you not like Jobbo when she's so clearly based on you? I knew it.
- How is Jobbo like me? - I'm just cruising through life, never facing up to any of the consequences of my actions.
I'm so fucking cool, it hurts.
Well, no, you're not.
And neither am I.
- Yes, you are.
- Am I like that, Oregon? - No.
- Vod, you've nearly finished uni and you're about to fuck off and live on some commune.
- You're doing what? - Yeah, she's planning to move here.
At least I'm not shagging JP.
I can't believe you're planning to move here.
I knew you were judging me.
How dare you, after everything you've done? OK, yes, it's disgusting.
Yes, it's not very fair on Kingsley.
Yes, it's sneaky to do it behind my friends' backs.
But maybe, if my friends weren't being such fucking self-important twats, then maybe I wouldn't have done it in the first place.
"Oh, oh, we're third years, we're so important.
" "Oh, no, I can't come for a pint with you, Josie.
I'm union president.
" "Oh, no, I can't.
I've gotta write my dissertation.
" "We don't care about Josie and her stupid, second year, immature "wanting to hang out and do fun stuff bullshit.
" So, now she's lonely and she's accidentally had quite a lot of sex with JP.
But that could happen to anyone.
One time you asked me to go for a pint with you because you said everybody else was busy.
Which proves my point.
Do you think I've had a pint with Oregon? If I wanna see Oregon, I have to make a fucking appointment.
You don't have to make an appointment.
OK, so you've got time to go for a pint with Oregon Oregon is my best mate, Josie.
And I hardly see her any more.
Oh, my God.
This is so unfair.
I'm applying to be a Fulbright scholar.
I'm union president.
"I'm union president.
" Oh, fuck you.
You're both selfish, you're both self-centred, and I'm shagging JP and you're both responsible.
You are really fucking me off now, Josie.
Yeah, well, if you cared about any of us, Vod, then you'd come back to Manchester, like a proper friend, and you'd finish uni.
But, no, you don't give a shit, so you're just dropping out.
You wanna shut your fucking mouth right now before I lose my temper.
D'you think Jobbo's scared of you? Because she's not.
- Maybe she should be.
- Maybe she's not.
Oh, God, I'm so sorry.
I didn't mean to.
I'm really - Stop it! - I'm gonna kill you! Josie, stop it.
Ah! Ow! Rrrgh! You know, I worked really hard to get to Manchester, Josie.
I worked my factory job in the day and did an access course at night, and lived on fucking beans so I could afford our rent near college.
And now I'm about £5 billion in debt.
And guess what? I don't have Mummy and Daddy to come and bail me out.
I'm on my own.
So, I might have fucked about a bit these past three years, but if you think that means I don't give a shit then you don't know me.
Here's your fucking truth.
What are we gonna do? We can't just hang around London on the off-chance that we bump into him.
I knew we should have put a tag on him.
"Please look after this Howard.
" - We've gotta get on the coach.
- Yeah.
Just hope he finds his way back, like a big, bearded homing pigeon.
Wait.
Look.
Howard! We've found you.
The next time we go on a trip and I propose arranging a safe meeting point in case of nuclear attack, - I suggest you take me seriously.
- Oh, fuck it.
Thank God you're safe.
It's not that bad, you know.
A solid 2:2.
Borderline 2:1.
A 2:1? It's not actually that hard to get a 2:1.
You basically just have to hand stuff in.
I don't want a 2:1.
I want a first.
Do you? Yeah.
I've always wanted a first.
Just something about a first just appeals to me more than a 2:1.
Know what I mean? Kind of.
Let me get this straight.
You either want a first or you want to leave civilisation? Yeah.
If we leave now, we can still make it back in time for you to hand this in.
Yeah, OK.
I'm killing Jobbo! Just to check Begging a future employer for bus fare Impressively nonchalant or incredibly bad first impression? Mummy? 'Have you spoken to Tomothy?' Tomothy? No, he hasn't called me.
Why? 'What the bloody hell have you done?' Well, I don't know what he's talking about, Mummy.
"And so I said, 'Could I be dead "Or should I be in Maidenhead?" Shit.
"Let me be alone till now - "I" - Shit.
"Whose woods these are, I think I know "His house is in the village, though.
" Shit.
- Shit.
- Shit.
Shit.
Shit! No, I don't listen to their wasted lines Got my eyes wide open And I see the signs But they don't know about us And they've never heard of love - Doo doo-doo-doo - Why should it matter to us If they don't approve? Doo doo-doo-doo We should just take our chances While we've got nothing to lose
What? Well, when I was writing this, I had this amazing feeling like it was the most original thought-provoking dissertation ever written.
In the English language.
But now, looking back over it well, it's more like the tedious meandering waffle of a madwoman.
What's going on? You're probably just too close to it to be objective.
Want me to? Fuck off.
What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What if it's shit? What if it's genius? What I'm thinking is what they're gonna want is a playlist of the self.
Five songs that distil my essence.
Who is Kingsley Owen? They will ask you about your work ethic, or if you are a team player.
No, no, no, no, no.
They're gonna be like "Do you dig Miles?" You just don't want to be pretentious or, you know boring.
I have to get back to the office.
Um, cool.
I'll call you later, yeah? Let you know how it goes? Cool.
I may come with you on the Megabus.
I'm applying for a job at Ordnance Survey, but they're based in London.
I need to do a recce of the surrounding environment, make sure we're compatible.
I don't want to work for Ordnance Survey if it requires, for example, being kettled by Metropolitan Police on a daily basis, as happened on my last visit to London.
I'm pretty sure you're not going to get randomly kettled on the way to work, Howard.
Oh, Kingsley doesn't "think" I'll get kettled.
How reassuring And yet experience tells me that on 100% of my visits to London, I have been kettled.
Therefore, it is only sensible to make sure.
So, can I come? I guess, but you have to be ready early, OK? Oh, don't you worry.
I'll be ready.
Hi, Tony.
Thanks for calling.
Um I've got two minutes, so let me download the facts and then you can respond, OK? Basically, Jeanette Winterson has agreed to be our judge for the Shawcross Uh-huh.
Uh-huh, yes, it's fabulous.
But the thing is, she only has time to judge the two best poems.
Now, what I need is someone to read through the bulk of the poems and choose Jeanette's two.
A stableboy, if you will.
Someone to shovel through the shit and find the gold.
And I thought of you.
Now, I know that lecturers don't make the big money any more, so, er, I can offer you Ð100 plus expenses.
Because I'm offering you the chance to work with Jeanette Winterson! Oh, thank you.
That's great.
OK, you won't regret this.
I promise.
Rosa, why are there six angry men in wheelchairs in my office, shouting at me? They are protesting your decision to take away their minibus.
I didn't take away their minibus.
It's the murderball team.
That's the murderball team.
Yes, that's the murderball team.
No, that's the murderball team.
OK, why do we keep saying it? Those men in wheelchairs are the murderball team.
"Murderball" is another word for wheelchair rugby.
Yes, you took away their special minibus.
The one that takes them from the outreach programme to the disadvantaged youth centre.
And you used the money to fund poems for a prize named after yourself.
Obviously, you knew that.
Because you wouldn't slash funding for something without understanding what it was for, would you? Oh, no.
Where's our bus? Where's our bus? Ohh.
Oregon, are you about for a chat? Vod, can we have a talk about? Yes, hello, Nightline? I need to talk to someone.
About something I've done.
Something terrible.
I've had sex with JP before.
Quite a few times.
But this is the first time we've ever done it sober.
I fucking hate myself.
Yeah, well, I would talk to my friends about it, except they're all third years and they're too busy, so I'm in this on my own.
Maybe I need to detach myself from these people.
Try and be more self-sufficient.
More independent.
Yeah, I'm the guy who, yeah, will listen to I'm Ready by Royal Trux when he gets fucked on Jack.
But sees no contradiction in rolling out of bed the next day and slowly grooving to Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond while he sips his morning latte.
No, wait Well the family baton has been foisted upon me.
So, here I am.
About to don my father's suit and go for a job in the City with a starting salary of 100K.
I tried so hard to escape my destiny.
But alas, she has come to claim me.
Have you tried that hard, though? I mean, really? Of course I have.
You wouldn't understand.
You don't have a destiny.
But people like me we always have a destiny.
And we must always fulfil that destiny.
Because if we didn't, the whole fabric of society would unravel.
I mean, what would happen if people like me stopped quietly accepting their privilege and started shirking the responsibility of being in charge of everything? We are overwhelmed with gratitude.
Eurgh.
Another shit one.
Add that to the shit pile.
Where's the good pile? There is no good pile.
They're all shit.
Hi, Nas, have they gone yet? Well, they're gonna have to eat and sleep at some point, so can you just let me know when they've given up? Ooh, To The President.
This sounds hopeful.
It might be political.
"You took away my rugby You took away my bus "You took away all hopes and dreams from us.
" OK, well, that doesn't even scan properly.
"I hope you die of something Like tetanus or Aids "If I wasn't in a wheelchair I'd dance upon your grave.
" Shit.
Oh! No, not a-shitting-nother one.
Oh, sweaty fucking Christ.
Right, you dozy fuckers.
Let's do a bong.
What did you just say? I said, load up the billy, I wanna smoke a bowl.
- Why are you talking like that? - Like what? Also, um, I need a new nickname.
- The Idiot? - Something, um, cool and catchy and something people will chant, like, er you know, Josie is - Cosy.
- No! Something cool.
People already think I'm too nice.
I've got it.
- Ohh! Leave me alone.
- OK, what about? Listen.
What about - Jobbo? - No.
- Jobbo, yeah? - It sounds like a cross between a blow job and a poo.
- No, it doesn't.
- I don't like Jobbo.
Guess what? Jobbo doesn't care if you don't like her.
That's what makes her so fucking likeable.
I need a lift right now.
- Oregon? - Where? - Er, West Wittering.
- Yeah, great.
Where's that? Is it far? - Quite far.
- Great.
- Where are you going? - Just a little getaway.
Not like driving away fast from the scene of a crime or anything.
Just like a mini-break.
- Is it? - Sort of, yeah.
Er, I need to see an old friend, Paz, down at a free space commune.
Is that my lipstick? No.
Can I come? Sorry, Jose, it's not really a group thing.
Oregon's just gonna drop me down there.
A commune's not really a group thing? Right, so you're going, Oregon's going, and the three boys are going to London.
So, if I don't go, I'll just be here on my own like Robinson Crusoe and I'll end up talking to a beachball and eating my own legs, or something.
No.
I'll just get fresh knickers.
- No - Why are you going to West Wittering? Need to see an old friend.
Get some advice.
I'll explain more later, yeah? Shall we? Wait for Jobbo.
So, we introduce me as Jobbo, yeah? Cos that's my new name now.
What the fuck is that? What, this? This is Jobbo's marijuana cap.
Who the fuck is Jobbo? I'm Jobbo.
It's my new nickname.
Anyway, according to their website, your anarchist commune do shamanic eraldaketa sessions.
They do what? Completely changes your personality for a significant amount of time.
Jobbo's gonna take some.
- No, she is not.
- Yes, she fucking is.
Shamanic eraldaketa? That's pure fucking Jobbo.
There it is.
- That's free space? - Yeah.
- I thought it'd be more - Ye-e-eah.
Why are we here again? Er, see Paz, my friend from my band.
You'll like her, Oregon.
She's a sand-poet.
She's a what? Oh, there she is.
Oi, Paz.
Nas? What? But it's been 24 hours.
How can they still be there? Jesus Christ, what more do they want from me? - Everything OK? - Yeah.
Everything's brilliant.
- Oh, Vod! Welcome.
- Ahh! I'm the guy with Dropout Boogie by Beefheart going in one earphone, and September by Earth Wind & Fire in the other.
Hurry up, I've got just enough time to get to my interview.
- What's the quickest way to Temple? - Haven't you checked? Well, no, I thought they'd send a car.
Oh, here, I've got a map.
Howard's day bag has useful items for every eventuality.
Mind the gap.
- Oh, hold on, that's my application.
- Get on with it! Get on! I'm gonna be late.
- Howard, get on the train.
- Come on! Driver! What's the protocol now? - Do we get off at the next station and go back? - What if Howard's got on the next train, then he gets off at the next station and goes back, but we're already on the next train forwards? - I don't have time for this shit.
- We'll just call him when we get above ground.
Howard's from Glasgow, isn't he? He can look after himself.
And then I printed out my essay and that was just loads of meaningless bits of paper all put together.
And now I'm thinking I don't know what to do.
That is an obscene amount of money to spend on shuttlecocks.
I say we cut Bad Soc funding in half and send that back to murderball.
Yeah, uh-huh.
Mm, uh-huh.
Mm-hm.
OK, OK.
Now read me the budget for hockey.
Why not get yourself a meaningless bit of paper, if that's what you want? I don't know if it is what I want.
You know, and I owe all this money and, ugh, no idea how I'm gonna pay it back, and what if it was like the band? - Cor! - You know? Cos at the beginning, we were all like, we're gonna be famous, our lyrics are gonna change the world, and we actually believed it.
- Yeah! Then we were, like, sleeping in the back of a van for three years.
Tssh.
Ohh.
What if this whole university thing's just another pointless dream? Oh, come on.
Come on.
All I'm saying is, there's no boundaries any more.
We're in a post-genre landscape.
It's fucking anarchy.
And I'm just watching it all play out with Forever Changes by Love on heavy rotation.
OK, then, peeps.
Let's kick things off with the first question.
Er, Kingsley, how would you describe your work ethic? So, what's with this Jobbo thing, then? You just imagined a new personality out of thin air? - Yeah, why not? - Where'd you get your, er, inspiration? Oh, where'd you get your lipstick? - I got it from a really crazy little shop you've never even heard of.
- Oh.
What can I say? When God made Jobbo, - he broke the mould.
- Hi, guys.
Right, some more info.
All right, there we are.
First of all, let me say how impressed we are with your CV.
And from what your brother's told me, I think you're exactly the kind of chap we're looking for here at Frome & Harrington.
I'm just gonna run you through a couple of simple questions.
I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle.
What do you feel you'd bring to the role of wealth manager's assistant? Mm.
I'd probably bring cheese sandwiches.
- I'm sorry? - And a little flask of tea.
You know, one of those ones with the little detachable cup on top.
I meant qualities you'd bring that make you suitable for the role.
OK.
First up I've got a great sense of humour.
No? Um Sure.
I can see you're looking at me, thinking, "Jonathan, wouldn't it, for example, be better to mention something like maths at this point?" But, actually, I'd be up for any kind of evil shit you want me to undertake.
Er, gambling with people's pensions, lying about investments, hiding Nazi gold.
Sign me up.
I just wanna get my Christmas bonus.
And I will do literally anything to get it.
So, yeah, I guess you could put that down as a quality.
I dunno what you'd call that.
Grasping? Greedy? Ruthless? - Amoral.
- Yes, Jonathan, that's not quite what I meant.
- Look - Oh! I don't care about the old people or the poor people, any kind of people, except our people.
Hm? Now, that is what makes me right for this job.
Shall I take your plate? Time for washing-up duty.
OK, that's it.
I can't take any more.
Tell me what's going on here, please, Vod.
- What d'you mean? - I mean you have to have a trick up your sleeve, right? Like, um Like we're gonna steal all the drugs.
Or a really hot guy's gonna turn up who we all wanna have sex with, who maybe we will all have sex with, cos it's just that kind of vibe.
I'm not sure I follow.
I'm talking about this place and how you've gotta have some sort of ulterior motive for being here.
Because it can't be over a desire to do washing-up duty or read a big book of rules, can it, Vod? - Shh.
- This isn't you.
Yeah, well, maybe you don't know me as well as you thought.
Sorry, no smoking in the main hall.
Yeah, not so much anarchist commune as, er, nanny state, eh, Paz? Listen, Jobbo.
I've gotta live with these people, OK? So, try not to piss 'em off.
What d'you mean, live with them? You are coming back to Manchester, aren't you, Vod? OK, fine, look, I didn't wanna make a big fuss about it, but I might be moving here.
- When? - Now.
You can't just drop out right before your exams.
That's madness.
Why d'you care, Jobbo? OK, guys, if I call your name, you're through to the next round.
If I don't call your name, thanks so much for coming, you haven't made it this time, but there is feedback available over by Simeon.
OK? So - Juniper.
- Yes! Frankie.
Hannah.
And Asif.
Yeah! Thank you.
Everyone else, thanks for your time and all the best for the future.
OK, let's crack on with round two.
Oh, and don't forget your feedback.
Feedback.
Some feedback.
Oh! Feedback, yeah.
Thanks.
Because what I need in the wake of this all-crushing and, frankly, heartbreaking failure is a big list of what's wrong with me.
Yes, please, BBC 6 Music.
While you're at it, why don't you cut my throat and ask if I mind if you stamp on my head? Your moustache is horrid, by the way.
There's my "feedback" for you.
How do you like it? Feedback's optional.
Thanks.
Thank you.
- To freedom.
- Yeah.
Except I don't wanna be free.
I wanna be an intern at BBC 6 Music.
And instead, I get fucking feedback.
Knutsford, I think you're taking this all too much to heart.
What did the feedback say? - I don't know, I didn't take it.
- You didn't take it? When someone rejects you, the last thing you want is a list of reasons.
I just thought it might be useful for next time.
If you get another interview.
- Where the fuck is Howard? - I textedhim and told him to meet us here.
- I'll text him again.
- I should've taken the feedback.
- I should've read what they had to say so I could be better next time.
Oh, shit! Oh, shit.
Howard's phone.
Thanks to the invention of the hand-held device, I don't have one useful telephone number memorised.
And all I can think to do is call the operator and speak to John at Ordnance Survey, ask for his help, but how can I admit to the man at Ordnance Survey that I'm lost? I mean, look at me.
First morning in the capital and I'm already destitute.
Rita, this may sound strange, but can you spare me some change? You came all the way to London just to commit interview suicide? Fuck Tomothy.
I went and did his stupid little interview and now he needs to let go of my balls.
And if he doesn't let go of my balls, I'm gonna tell him to suck on my balls.
I did his stupid interview.
He didn't say how well I had to do it.
I'm my own man.
I will not be dictated to by my brother.
- I shall do as I wish.
- Like what? - Dunno.
Something amazing.
- For example? For example, think of something amazing to do and then do it amazingly.
You're not worried? At all? I'm not worried.
Why would I be worried? And even if I was worried, I wouldn't allow myself to feel worried, because feelings of weakness only make other people uncomfortable.
If one boy cries, we all want to cry.
And since we all want to cry, but we also don't want to cry, we need to beat the boy who's crying to stop him from crying.
- You see? - Oh.
Oh, shit.
Tomothy.
Shit.
Jonathan, it's your brother.
I've just had a phone call from Magda.
She told me what you did, you little shit.
D'you really think you're gonna get away with this? Isn't this when you get out there and tell him to suck your? Shh.
Daddy's turning in his grave, JP.
Squirming in his fucking grave.
If he wasn't already dead, he'd probably die of shame.
Just call me back straightaway, or I'm calling Mummy.
Paz tells me you're joining us.
Yeah.
Need to get away for a while, go off-grid for a bit.
Yeah.
I know what you mean.
Best decision I ever made, escaping all that shit.
- Job? Mortgage? - You just don't need it.
Wife? Two kids? Had the lot.
It weighs on you.
You know, that kind of baggage.
Out here, no way they can track me down.
Haven't even got a phone.
It's brilliant.
Hello, Ordnance Survey, John speaking.
How can I help? Hi, John, it's Howard here.
- I'm sorry? - Howard McGregor.
We've been exchanging e-mails about my potential application for a job at your company.
Howard, of course.
How can I help? I'm in London with no phone, no money, no access to GPS, and my only piece of navigational equipment is the old-fashioned compass.
I was wondering if you might be able to help me.
Go on.
Oh Sorry, I changed my mind.
I want my feedback.
At the time, I didn't wanna know my faults, but now I do.
I mean, I already know one of my faults was not wanting to know my faults.
- But I'm ready now.
- You were at the workshop? - That's right.
- Yeah, I'm sorry, I think we put all the unwanted feedback in the bin.
- Oh.
- What was your name again? Er, Kingsley Owen.
Could you just maybe maybe just tell me what it was so I can be better next time? - Right, Kingsley.
Yeah, what did we say about you? Er Ooh, was it, maybe, um Some of my opinions were half-baked? - Er - Did you find me pretentious? Or annoying? My personality can be grating? - Well - I'm inauthentic, maybe? I'm boring? Um Oh, no, wait.
Um, I'm a people-pleaser.
I'm indecisive? - Sorry, were you in today or yesterday? - Um Well, today.
It was It was It was today.
Right, it's just we've been running these workshops all week, I'm ever so sorry.
Um I'm the guy who listens to I'm Ready by Royal Trux when he gets fucked up on Jack, but then - Right, yes! Now I remember, yeah.
Yeah, I asked what music you liked and you were talking for about half an hour and I couldn't really work out what your answer was.
It was all, like, "Oh, I don't really believe in genres.
" But, you know, all I wanted to know was D'you like U2 or do you not? I'm sorry, I don't really understand the question.
Cut golf, cut fencing, cut fucking Juggle Soc, OK, Nas, I don't care.
Just do it.
You know the radio waves from that thing are being absorbed by your brain? It's OK, I don't mind.
Is that? - Are you doing your poetry? - Yeah.
You can write better poems in the sand than in any of your fucking books.
I've written over 1,000 poems in the sand.
I've written a whole screenplay in the sand.
- Awesome.
- And once they're finished no-one will ever read them.
- Right, and that's good, is it? - Right, so, are we ready to begin? Yes.
In the words of Shirley Bassey, Pink and Welsh hero Rhydian Roberts from The X Factor, - let's get this party started.
- Wait.
Before you drink, you must cleanse the space.
Speak your truth.
If you don't, you can have a very, very bad trip.
I once hallucinated 1,000 Jabba the Hutts crawling out of my eye sockets and ejaculating onto my breasts.
Yeah? So, unless you want that, get any little grudges, any secrets, out in the open.
Cos once you drink this stuff, it is all coming out, one way or another.
Ring this bell when you're ready.
I'll come and pour the eraldaketa.
Yeah.
Mm-hm.
Mm-hm.
Yes, thank you.
Howard Anyone who can find their way to HQ using nothing more than latitudinal coordinates and an old-fashioned compass might be just the kind of candidate we're looking for here at Ordnance Survey.
And especially one with such great taste in knitwear.
Well, now you've got me, are there any questions you'd like to ask me? Well actually, I wanted to ask if you could see your way to lend me?29 in cash? You what? That is the peak-time fare from London to Manchester, without which, unless I manage to meet up with my friends, I won't be able to make it home.
I would, of course, repay you.
Perhaps at my interview.
And, yes, I should have checked what murderball was, but I've been really busy with Fulbright and my dissertation and the Shawcross.
And what have I learned? That I can't trust my staff.
And I guess I'm also feeling really bad because I haven't read any good poems and I need to find one to send to Jeanette Winterson.
But I'll get round to it after we've finished this.
Er, OK, I think I'm done.
Jobbo? You got something? OK, so, um I was hoping to find a better time to talk about this, but I think I need to say it now because I'm quite afraid of having a bad trip.
Yeah, no big deal, but I woke up yesterday morning and it turns out that I had had sex with JP.
Again.
You We've actually, um done it quite a few times recently, regularly.
So yeah.
OK.
There's no need to look at me like that, all right, Mrs Judge and Mrs Judgey.
OK? I'm not going out with him.
It's just sex.
Jobbo is very much like Vod in that respect.
I just use men and I dump 'em when I'm through with 'em.
How's that like me? You know what I mean.
I don't give a shit about anyone else's feelings.
I just chuck people away whenever I decide to move on.
OK.
Er Oh, I've got one.
- I fucked JP.
- What?! - Really? - Yeah.
No.
Or was it the other one? Maybe it was another house.
When we all went to Liverpool on that night.
- We've never been to Liverpool.
- Oh, yeah.
No, I didn't wanna fuck JP.
So, I didn't.
Right, take this seriously.
We're meant to be speaking our truth.
All right.
Here's one.
I don't like Jobbo.
- I think Jobbo's a wanker.
- What?! How can you not like Jobbo when she's so clearly based on you? I knew it.
- How is Jobbo like me? - I'm just cruising through life, never facing up to any of the consequences of my actions.
I'm so fucking cool, it hurts.
Well, no, you're not.
And neither am I.
- Yes, you are.
- Am I like that, Oregon? - No.
- Vod, you've nearly finished uni and you're about to fuck off and live on some commune.
- You're doing what? - Yeah, she's planning to move here.
At least I'm not shagging JP.
I can't believe you're planning to move here.
I knew you were judging me.
How dare you, after everything you've done? OK, yes, it's disgusting.
Yes, it's not very fair on Kingsley.
Yes, it's sneaky to do it behind my friends' backs.
But maybe, if my friends weren't being such fucking self-important twats, then maybe I wouldn't have done it in the first place.
"Oh, oh, we're third years, we're so important.
" "Oh, no, I can't come for a pint with you, Josie.
I'm union president.
" "Oh, no, I can't.
I've gotta write my dissertation.
" "We don't care about Josie and her stupid, second year, immature "wanting to hang out and do fun stuff bullshit.
" So, now she's lonely and she's accidentally had quite a lot of sex with JP.
But that could happen to anyone.
One time you asked me to go for a pint with you because you said everybody else was busy.
Which proves my point.
Do you think I've had a pint with Oregon? If I wanna see Oregon, I have to make a fucking appointment.
You don't have to make an appointment.
OK, so you've got time to go for a pint with Oregon Oregon is my best mate, Josie.
And I hardly see her any more.
Oh, my God.
This is so unfair.
I'm applying to be a Fulbright scholar.
I'm union president.
"I'm union president.
" Oh, fuck you.
You're both selfish, you're both self-centred, and I'm shagging JP and you're both responsible.
You are really fucking me off now, Josie.
Yeah, well, if you cared about any of us, Vod, then you'd come back to Manchester, like a proper friend, and you'd finish uni.
But, no, you don't give a shit, so you're just dropping out.
You wanna shut your fucking mouth right now before I lose my temper.
D'you think Jobbo's scared of you? Because she's not.
- Maybe she should be.
- Maybe she's not.
Oh, God, I'm so sorry.
I didn't mean to.
I'm really - Stop it! - I'm gonna kill you! Josie, stop it.
Ah! Ow! Rrrgh! You know, I worked really hard to get to Manchester, Josie.
I worked my factory job in the day and did an access course at night, and lived on fucking beans so I could afford our rent near college.
And now I'm about £5 billion in debt.
And guess what? I don't have Mummy and Daddy to come and bail me out.
I'm on my own.
So, I might have fucked about a bit these past three years, but if you think that means I don't give a shit then you don't know me.
Here's your fucking truth.
What are we gonna do? We can't just hang around London on the off-chance that we bump into him.
I knew we should have put a tag on him.
"Please look after this Howard.
" - We've gotta get on the coach.
- Yeah.
Just hope he finds his way back, like a big, bearded homing pigeon.
Wait.
Look.
Howard! We've found you.
The next time we go on a trip and I propose arranging a safe meeting point in case of nuclear attack, - I suggest you take me seriously.
- Oh, fuck it.
Thank God you're safe.
It's not that bad, you know.
A solid 2:2.
Borderline 2:1.
A 2:1? It's not actually that hard to get a 2:1.
You basically just have to hand stuff in.
I don't want a 2:1.
I want a first.
Do you? Yeah.
I've always wanted a first.
Just something about a first just appeals to me more than a 2:1.
Know what I mean? Kind of.
Let me get this straight.
You either want a first or you want to leave civilisation? Yeah.
If we leave now, we can still make it back in time for you to hand this in.
Yeah, OK.
I'm killing Jobbo! Just to check Begging a future employer for bus fare Impressively nonchalant or incredibly bad first impression? Mummy? 'Have you spoken to Tomothy?' Tomothy? No, he hasn't called me.
Why? 'What the bloody hell have you done?' Well, I don't know what he's talking about, Mummy.
"And so I said, 'Could I be dead "Or should I be in Maidenhead?" Shit.
"Let me be alone till now - "I" - Shit.
"Whose woods these are, I think I know "His house is in the village, though.
" Shit.
- Shit.
- Shit.
Shit.
Shit! No, I don't listen to their wasted lines Got my eyes wide open And I see the signs But they don't know about us And they've never heard of love - Doo doo-doo-doo - Why should it matter to us If they don't approve? Doo doo-doo-doo We should just take our chances While we've got nothing to lose