Ideal (2005) s07e02 Episode Script

The Debtors

Remember when we were in Portugal? Yeah.
They were amazing times, man.
I'll never forget a second of it.
Remember when I lent you them 100 euros? No.
Yeah, you do.
OK.
Look, I'm skint.
I've got a week before I sign on.
All I've got to my name is 50 quid.
It's what they call an economic downturn.
So, I'm calling in all of my debts.
I don't carry euros.
I'm on probation.
I don't want euros.
I want pounds.
What? You can't lend euros and expect to get paid back in proper money.
All right, well, we'll see what the exchange rate is.
The "exchange rate"? What's that? Some sort of international system of relative currency values? Yeah.
Oh.
Well, I can't pay you right now.
Well, when can you pay me? That's anybody's guess.
If you had to guess, when would you guess you could pay me? Next year? It's February! I need it now! You see, this is what happens.
What do you mean "this is what happens"? This is what happens when you lend people money.
Woah! Careful, Carol.
Sorry, Keith.
You know, I've really enjoyed living here.
Oh, me too, kitten.
Obviously, this flat has got some sad memories, too.
I'm thinking mainly about us being held hostage here.
Me getting my ear cut off.
But then, it is in a great location.
All right, Moz? Good time? Bad time? Erm, good time, please.
We're on our way to see the woman who makes my costumes.
German Barbara.
She's making me a mountie outfit out of peacock feathers.
What an obviously good idea.
It's more romantic than that.
I'm his girlfriend and I'm his manager.
You're managing Silicon Valets? No, just Jason.
Silicon Valets have split up.
I don't need you in the band.
You'd be lost without me and my minimoog.
What? If I want to record songs, I don't need musicians or instruments.
I don't need a studio, recording equipment or microphones.
What you going to use? Your knob? I'll download my songs into peoples' brains.
You are such a big nut job! Do you know what? I am sick of your negativity.
Yeah? Well, I'm sick of your nut-job-ativity! I'm sick of the pair of you.
If you're splitting up, have the decency to buy two lots of weed and fuck off.
So, you got the Jason end of the stick? He's already got a new band together.
Thank God.
What you called? Becausemonauts Three.
What? The Becausemonauts Three.
It's like cosmonauts, but it's spelt with a "because".
And the three's in Roman numerals.
I love the simplicity of it.
With a name like that, you can't help but be massive.
Jason's already medium-sized, so getting massive shouldn't take too long.
What's Lee doing? Is he a happy medium size or is he thinking of downsizing? Lee's retained ownership of the Silicon Valets brand, but Jason still receives 33 per cent royalties on any future product bearing the band logo.
And I retained the rights to my own action figure.
I couldn't think of owt worse than somebody else controlling an army of dolls with my face.
Pollen, Afghani Black, skunk.
I want you to sell it for the same prices as last time.
Me and the gang have been having a bit of a think.
I've been thinking like a bastard.
And the thing we've been thinking is, we think it might be time to take a break from, you know, ganging.
What else could you do? I mean, what transferable skills have you lot got? We're scared, blud.
We're not scared.
We're just wary.
Wary of what? The Red Mist.
The Red Mist? That's just a myth.
A nerve gas that makes you think communist thoughts? Of course it's a myth.
It's a gang.
A big gang.
They started out as one family of gingers called the MacCreedys.
Three brothers and a dad.
They were Burnley's Hardest Family 1988, '89, '90, '92.
What happened in '91? They all had bad colds.
But soon, loads of other gingers started coming from all over the country to join them.
And then they became the Red Mist.
Nobody knows how many of them there really are.
Some say 30.
Some say 31.
Cartoon Head reckons there's 3,000 of them.
My mum says every single ginger you meet is a potential killer.
Now, table is cleaner.
Cleaner, but not clean.
What more could we hope for? Hey, we're going for our scan tomorrow.
Oh.
Hey, I wonder if the nipper'll look Japanese or Derrick-oid.
On the scans, they all look like fat skeletons.
Anyway, they won't look like me because we used a donor.
Oh, right.
I didn't know.
Was it an anonymous donor or? No.
It was Fist.
Fist?! But he's a violent, psychopathic vicar.
But he has got a very high sperm count.
So, why didn't you go DIY? We try, but Derrick's sperm is very disappointing.
They have all got bent tails.
It's a classic design fault.
And they are very, very small.
All sperm are small.
Derrick's sperm is too small.
Excuse me.
So, you think the Red Mist want to stop us from selling weed? They stabbed me.
It hurt.
A bit.
Oh.
What's that? Oh, Stemroach did that one.
Remember? With a Gurkha knife? I was clinically dead for the afternoon.
But they can't just come into town and take things over.
I mean, look who they're dealing with.
Psycho Paul.
Precisely.
And Cartoon Head.
Surely you're not scared of a few gingernuts? You're right, Nicki.
This gang is diamond hard.
We've got brain power and we've got kill power.
Hiya.
This is my book group.
Paul, Xavier, Cartoon Head, this is my sister, Jess.
Hiya.
So, what are you reading? Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus.
Right.
What do you think? I love anything with spaceships in.
Well, I think we should call that it for today, lads.
Laters, Nicki.
Thanks for reading us the story.
Bye.
Everything all right with Yoko? She seems a little bit mentally, mentally? I was wondering if you'd noticed the mentally thing.
Pregnancy can be a challenge.
Especially for the man.
Nicki used to eat sacks of coal and belt out Shirley Bassey numbers.
Then there was that two weeks where she believed she could see through people's shoes.
Fist-o.
Hey, listen.
You remember that 90 quid I lent you? Yeah.
I tell you, there's nothing as expensive as having a baby.
Yeah, I know, but The IVF costs a fortune to begin with.
Then there's so much stuff you've got to buy.
Cot, clothes, bedding, buggy, nappies, nappy sacks, zinc ointment, wet wipes.
So, if there's any way I can repay you, you let me know.
Well, you can repay me by repaying me.
How do you mean? Pay me back the 90 quid.
Well, you know, if you ever get desperate.
I'm desperate now.
I mean if you get really desperate.
I AM really desperate.
OK.
Well, if I think you might look like you're about to crack, I'll pay you back in dribs and drabs.
How about one big drib or one big drab? I'm not really fussy.
Think we're about packed up, now, Keith.
There's only one more thing I need to take with me - Bug-a-lugs.
Oh, Keith.
I know you're upset, but sometimes you just have to say, "That mouse with my new ear on its back has gone".
No, Carol.
I've lost one ear, I'm not losing another one.
My mouse trap will do the job.
Hi, Carol.
It's Moz.
Dad in? Hello, Moz.
Come in.
Yeah.
We're just about to launch Keith's new mouse trap.
Oh, and here's me in informal dress.
All right, son? Keeping busy, I see.
Listen, I'm skint.
I need that 100 quid I lent you.
Me paying you back isn't that straightforward.
Really? Cos you taking it off me seemed very straightforward.
If you're skint, you should start dealing drugs again.
What sort of fatherly advice is that? I don't want to be a dealer.
There's no pension scheme and the health and safety's a nightmare.
Before I pay you back, I've got to pay back 200 quid to Dribbly Bob.
Well, who cares about Dribbly Bob? I'm family.
You should pay back family first.
Family should be prepared to wait longer to be paid back.
How do you reckon that? Keith's right.
Family wait longer to be paid back.
I waited two decades to get a fiver back from our Beverley.
And who knows how long you might have to wait? You know, me with my terminal wasting disease.
There's nothing you won't do to push the sympathy button, is there? I'm not after your sympathy, son.
I'm just a poor, 68-year-old man, with a blind girlfriend and one ear.
There's no reason for you to drop round small amounts.
Cartoon Head, hi.
It's nice to see you again.
Coffee? Oh, how sweet.
The thing is, our kid, I'm down to the bottom of my savings and I'm calling in my debts.
Right.
Right, and you want me to be your strong-arm man, in case any of your debtors kick off? They're not going to kick off.
This isn't Miami Vice.
These are my best mates we're talking about.
You can't trust them.
Your best mates know all about you.
They know all your weaknesses.
If you've got any sense, you'll live in fear of your best mates.
Mark my words, they'll all try and wriggle out of paying you.
You owe me 300 quid.
No, I don't.
Yes.
You.
Do.
I lent you 300 quid.
Don't remember this.
December 23rd? Last year? Don't remember this.
Your signed IOU.
Don't remember this.
Me giving you the money.
All a bit circumstansh, isn't it? That could be a photo of me handing money to you.
It's a movie.
I, Moz am officially lending you, Troy £300.
Go on, say your bit.
I, Troy, promise to pay back 300 of your hard-earned pounds, or may God stab me to death.
World without end.
It's such a small screen, Moz.
Very difficult to tell what's going on.
I want paying back.
So, let your wallet flop out.
I've been in prison.
You were in there for four days! Four days I won't easily forget.
Look, if I pay you back I'll have to borrow money off someone else, and you wouldn't want me to be in debt.
I already owe Flu-Strength Darren 400 quid and two chicken kormas.
And korma's legal tender now, is it? Forget Flu-Strength Darren! I'm family and you pay back family first.
No.
Family wait longer to be paid back.
Everyone knows that.
Come on.
I'm skint and I'm your brother.
Half-brother.
Well, pay us back half.
And toss in a peshwari nan.
I can't.
Look, you've brought this on yourself by lending me money in the first place.
I'm well aware of that, thank you.
Look, I'd best get back to selling the Big Issue.
What, are you homeless now? No, no.
I'm selling them on eBay.
Vintage Big Issues from the '90s.
Last week, I sold a mint condition issue three for two quid.
What are you, a digital tramp? Well, if you want to make some dosh, you've got to sell some stuff.
Like what? All them copies of The Watchtower I've been hoarding? Well, what about your records? Bet you've got a few rare twelves in here, eh? Hey, have you still got that white-label by Baron Von Bloke? I Am Your Legs? Yeah.
One of them went on eBay for 120 quid.
Shit.
Chasm Juice - that worth anything? Chasm Juice? Erm, tenner? Tenner.
I'll give you a tenner for it.
You are such a crap liar.
It's worth a fortune, isn't it? About 300 quid.
Jesus! You're right.
I should have a sort through this lot.
I could be sitting on a gold mine, here.
I could end up richer than the bloke who invented sex.
All right, filth? How do, Troy? What you up to? You know, bit of eBay, bit of breaking and entering, touch of mugging.
Good lad.
Catch you soon, yeah? So, I arrested him for vagrancy.
And then, when he was questioned, down at the station, turned out he was a big bag of washing.
What happened? He got six months.
Bit harsh.
No sense taking chances.
So, have you heard from Jenny? No.
Have you? No.
She's not answering her calls.
I know.
She left her mobile behind.
Listen, speaking as a policeman don't you reckon that if you lend somebody money they're duty bound to pay you back? Yeah, no two ways about it.
Exactly, no two ways about it.
While we're on the subject, I need that 50 quid back.
Eh? What 50 quid? I lent you 50 quid.
Did you? Definitely.
When? A bit ago.
How much of a bit ago? Let me check.
There you go.
November 4th, lent 50 quid to M.
M? I'm not the only M.
Can't you think of some other Ms? Who could it be? Emily? Emma? My dad? I think it's you.
I think you are M, and I claim my 50 quid back.
I'm not M.
You are M.
Are you absolutely sure you can't think of any other Ms? Who else might you have lent money to? Hey, we ask the questions.
I thought it was a social call.
You saying I should've phoned my solicitor? Maybe I should phone my solicitor.
It's just, well Fifty quid's all I've got.
Fifty quid's all I want.
Don't make me fine you as well.
Hello? It's Moz.
Oh, hi, Moz.
Come on up.
Hiya, Tilly.
Hi.
Thanks again for offering to help us with this.
I wouldn't know how to stick something on eBay.
I know you don't use actual glue.
That's right.
I'll open an account for you, we'll get everything posted.
You've still got to post it? I thought the computer did that.
Don't worry about it.
Listen, I just made the most awesome coriander and prune soup.
You've got to try some.
Have I? It's not like other prune soup you've tasted.
There's never been other prune soups.
I'm so glad you're here, I've been feeling so jittery.
I think there's somebody in the apartment.
Could be a soup side-effect.
This stuff is so good for you, it's sick.
Yeah, it looks like, erm I'm just going to pop and use your loo.
OK.
This is all happening very fast.
Scream if I want to go faster? Hi, hi.
Brian! What the hell are you doing?! I'm stalking you.
You should be flattered.
You're in my bed! I'd like to know a better way to collect your pubes.
What? Was it the soup? It was the soup, wasn't it? Brian? What are you doing in a woman's bed? Isn't that like matter meeting anti-matter? He's been hiding in my apartment this entire time.
He's stalking me.
Why? Cos I am a charismatic maverick with 20 years of avant frocks behind me.
This is not my first stalker.
Oh? This behaviour is unacceptable.
I think that's a big part of the appeal.
You're amazing.
Have you seen your Wikipedia entry? It says, "Her confrontational couture makes Vivienne Westwood look like a special-needs Laura Ashley".
Really? That's incredibly insightful.
I wrote it.
Really? Do you need a PA? Possibly.
Do you really want to be putting your stalker on a wage? Oh, I should go.
Peter Andre's doing a personal appearance down Asda.
I thought you were stalking me.
Yeah, I'm going to see him in an ironic way.
See you.
One minute you're in, the next minute you're out.
That's the thing with Brian.
He's got the attention span of a fruity fruit fly.
Oh, God.
No! I'm so sorry.
Ow, shit.
Hot, hot, hot.
I am so sorry, but it's 100 per cent organic, all-natural ingredients.
It might be OK.
I'm sorry.
300 quid's worth of Chasm Juice down the drain.
This is it.
This was my last chance of making any cash.
Shit, what am I going to do? Hi, hi.
Oh, Ziggy Stardust.
I'm Jake.
Are you open? How much is it going to cost? 50 quid for half an hour.
100 quid for an hour.
And I can personally guarantee a very happy finish.
Half an hour, please.
You won't regret it, sailor.
Hola.
Better make it an hour.
Evening, Brian.
Hi, hi.
Evening, Carmel! Ah, Clouseau.
There you go.
Nice weight of black.
Nicely, nicely.
I'll easily shift that.
I've nearly sold all that pollen you delivered on Monday.
Looks like good black.
It's got bite.
It's got plenty of spirit.
Busted psychotherapist from Clayton-le-Moors.
Oh, by the way, I need that 500 quid back.
They're taking over the whole city.
They don't want anyone to know we're seeing each other.
I'm Jake! We spoke on the phone.
I threatened to sue you.
You've killed a man.
The perfect crime.
This is total war.
He's been having another affair.
I could always bust her.
Oh, no, Plastic Face, I won't.
Please.
Perfect crime.