Pistol (2022) s01e01 Episode Script

Track 1: The Cloak of Invisibility

1 I'm an alligator I'm a mama-papa coming for you I'm the space invader I'll be a rock 'n' rolling bitch for you Keep your mouth shut You're squawking like a pink monkey bird And I'm busting up my brains for the words You know I am Keep your electric eye on me, babe Put your ray gun to my head Press your space face close to mine, love Freak out in a moonage daydream Oh, yeah Keep your electric eye on me, babe Put your ray gun to my head ♪ I love you! Press your space face close to mine, love Freak out in a moonage daydream Oh, yeah Freak out Stop! Shit! Get back! Hey! Man! Freak out in a moonage daydream Oh, yeah ♪ It still has Bowie's lipstick on it.
Fucking hell! The Phantom of the Odeon strikes again.
Put your ray gun to my head Press your space face close to mine, love ♪ Shit! Pull over! Steve, pull over now.
I'm gonna lose my apprenticeship.
They'll definitely kick the shit out of us for having a better motor than them.
I shouldn't have let you talk me into this.
- Won the pools, have we, lads? - Hello, Officer.
- Step out of the vehicle, sir.
- All right.
You're a fucking lunatic! Do you want to keep your apprenticeship or not? - Dance to the music! - Right, round this corner, we're gonna jump out, throw on the old cloak of invisibility, and scarper! You and your bloody cloak of invisibility! It doesn't work, does it? Oh, it's only cos they can see you, you pillock! Don't forget, rehearsals tomorrow.
You mean we can rehearse here as long as we want? Yep! We're rewiring the entire building.
- It'll take years.
- Thanks, Dad! Just make sure I get a ride in your Rolls when you're famous.
- Yeah, all right.
- Cheers! Yah! All right, good news! I've come up with a new name.
What's wrong with the old name? - Yeah, I like "The Strand".
- Nah, it's boring.
- Like Glen's hair.
- Piss off.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you "The Swankers".
- "The Swankers"? - Sounds like "Wankers".
Nah, it's edgy.
Why do you get to choose the name? - It's my band.
- You can barely sing.
I can sing better than you can play.
I'm the best musician.
You're also a jumped-up little ponce who likes The Beatles - and minor diminished 4ths.
- Oh, yeah.
Plus, I nicked all the gear.
Yeah, you did.
Phantom of the Odeon.
And, uh I've written an original.
- You? - Yeah.
Give us a look.
Oh, it's It's not actually written down.
Oh! So, when you say you've "written" a song, - you mean - Don't be a prick, Glen.
Look, Wally, do you remember that riff we was mucking around with the other day? It was like Da-Na-Na-Na-Na ♪ Da-Na-Na-Na-Na ♪ Nah, sorry.
Jesus! They don't call you "Wally" for nothing, do they? Glen Do you remember the chords? Try A.
Da-Na-Na-Na-Na Yeah, that's right.
- Glen? - D.
All right, play D.
Yeah, Glen? - E, maybe? - Yeah.
That's it.
Right, repeat it.
- Give us some noise.
- One, two, three, four! We like noise It's our choice Gotta lot to learn Gotta lot to learn I don't work, I just speed Gotta lot to learn Now the chorus! ♪ - Come on, mate! - Come on! I'm a lazy sod ♪ I'm a lazy sod I'm a Go back to E! Sod! ♪ What happens next? Uh, I don't know.
I gotta come up with more lyrics.
It's a bloody good start.
Well, it's not quite The Beatles, but It's better! It's ours.
Oh, shut up, you ponce.
Right, one, two with the music, Now we've got to think image.
Yeah, how about tight suits with white shirts and skinny ties? - What, like The Beatles? - Bloody hell! No! No, like The Small Faces.
We cover their songs.
Yeah, it's a good idea.
No, it ain't.
It's no good copying other bands.
We gotta be like us.
What, four broke, working class gits who can't play for shit? The Fucked Four.
What? All them dinosaur bands with their "oh, look at me" 15-minute guitar solos, they don't mean nothing to us, cos we're just we're pissed off, we're bored, we're trying to scrape together enough for another pint.
We're invisible.
No one gives a shit about us.
You know? So, we don't give a shit about no one else.
Maybe that should be our image.
That! You know? Not giving a shit! So, no suits? No! No fucking suits.
You think I can't see you.
You mean, you can? Maybe the old cloak of invisibility is wearing a bit thin.
Put 'em back.
Or I'll beat your brains out.
I didn't think you Yanks played cricket.
I'm not playing.
Put them back.
- You must be new.
I'm Steve.
- Put them back! They're for me band! They're for me band! Viv Viv said I could take whatever I wanted.
Did I? Oh Right, I I thought that's what you said.
- Do you remember? - You're that mouthy kid that's always trying to steal things.
Seems like that cloak of invisibility is a bit shit.
Here at Sex, we don't call the police.
We have our own methods of dealing with felons.
What did you steal? See, I thought that you said it'd be OK if I borrowed some things to wear on stage.
Cos our band's gonna be really famous.
Where do you play? Look, we're in the rehearsal phase right now, but we'll be playing soon.
Who are your influences? Roxy Music, Mott The Hoople, Bowie Bowie's a big one.
You heard about that fella what got on stage, nicked a load of gear after the "Ziggy" show at the Hammersmith Odeon? That was me.
One of the mics still had Bowie's lipstick on it.
In my book, thievery's the highest form of flattery.
Oh, we should be flattered, Viv! - Why'd you steal these? - Cos they're cool.
Why are they cool? Cos they're trousers, which is really normal, right? But they're bondage like a straightjacket for a mental patient, which isn't normal, you know? So, it's sort of like the world.
See, everyone's pretending everything's normal.
You know, like "Rule Britannia" and all that shit, but really everything's falling apart.
And all of us poor fuckers who've got nothing, we're supposed to just stand there and shut up and sing "God Save the Queen", and that's sort of mental.
Well, you certainly know your size.
That's very important when you're always nicking I mean, borrowing stuff.
What's your band called? - The Swankers.
- Wankers? The Swankers.
It's edgy.
- Are you queer? - No.
Oh Though I did pay a guy 50p to suck me off on a train once.
I was coming back from juvenile detention.
Oh, fuck off! I think I was just a bit depressed to be going home.
You're a product of state oppression.
- Aren't you? - What? Juvenile detention Where do you live? Just here and there.
With friends, mainly.
Ruffians like you excite me.
Look, it was just the one time on a train.
- I don't want to fuck you.
- Oh.
I want you to fuck the world.
What? Viv and I want to create a revolution inspired by the raw authenticity of forgotten kids like you.
What Malcolm in his uniquely pretentious way is trying to say is that you are welcome around here anytime.
If you want to wear something, you ask.
Because if I ever catch you stealing from me again, I will chop your bollocks off, you got me? Yeah.
Got you.
She said we could borrow clothes for the band.
- I won't even have to nick 'em.
- You're kidding! Yeah.
Malcolm's gonna manage us.
Did he actually say that? Well, no, but he wants me to you know, inspire him.
- "Inspire him"? - Yeah, for his revolution.
- "His revolution"? - Yeah.
So he's not managing us.
Not yet, but he will.
I'm gonna convince him.
Ain't got no trouble in my life No foolish dream to make me cry I'm never frightened or worried ♪ Hello, darling.
- I know I'll always get by - How are you, darling? - Long time no see.
- I heat up I cool down When something gets in my way - I go round it - Hey, lovey! You got any Mandy? Gonna take it the way that I found it I got the music in me I got the music in me I got the music in me yeah! ♪ The minute you walked in the joint I could see you were a man of distinction A real big spender You step foot out of this house again, and you know what you'll get.
Wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind? So, let me get right to the point I don't pop my cork for every man I see - Mum! - Hey, big spender Hey, big spender Hey, big spender Spend a little time with me Yes! ♪ Mum? - Mum! - Turn around, Mary.
Get back to bed and stay there.
What's wrong with her? Mum? Irene! Call a doctor! I think she's losing the baby.
- Mum! - Get out of it! - Don't annoy Ron.
- What have you done to my mum? What have I done? It's you what done it! Always bothering her, always causing trouble.
Now we're losing the good baby, and all we'll be left with is rubbish you.
You're a good-for-nothing lazy little sod.
No wonder your poor mum's in the hospital.
What the fuck? Are you here to clear the place out? Oi! Chrissie, hang on.
Fuck! I'm just Jesus! doing this inspiring thing with Viv and Malcolm now.
Like they said last night.
Yeah, sorry, it was already broken.
I'm just hanging out being inspiring, till they want me to, you know, fuck the world.
I'll have two sugars in mine.
Hey, what d'you wanna hear? Astound me.
Astounded? Mildly surprised.
Sittin' in the mornin' sun ♪ You know, I heard this song for the first time when I was Battersea Fairground when I was thirteen.
Couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Stood there for two hours, hoping they'd play it again.
For some reason, it just rewired my brain.
Maybe because old Otis was a bit like me, sitting on that dock wanting to get away, somewhere better.
Another one was Jimi Hendrix, "Purple Haze".
Love how the guitar kinda goes, "Clunk-uh-whoa" Mm-hmm.
Bet yours were English.
I bet that's why you're in London.
What's that? What are you writing? - I have a boyfriend.
- Oh, great! - What's his name? - Nick.
He's quite a famous music journalist.
Oh, yeah.
Nick Kent.
He's a bit of a prick.
I mean, he thinks he's Keith Richards.
Uh Yeah, he's got the heroin part of it right, not so much the playing.
Jealousy is such an attractive quality! Not the jealous type.
Strictly sexual with me.
As soon as feelings are involved, I get bored.
- That's why you're so popular.
- Exactly! So, what were yours, then? - You talk a lot, don't you? - I showed you mine.
Come on.
One wannabe songwriter to another I didn't think you was writing a novel.
All right smart-ass! - Bowie.
- Knew it! English! - The "Spiders" tour? - Cleveland, Ohio.
The Starman, on stage with God! Mick Ronson, playing his Les Paul! Those silver-satin strides just changed my life forever.
- Ronson can play! - And Bowie's I gave him a ride in my mom's car.
- Bowie? - Yeah.
- Bowie! - Yeah.
Get out! How? Uh fuck! It was Ohio.
Did you really steal his gear? And was there really lipstick on his mic? I bet there was lipstick on his mic in Cleveland, an' all! Oh, I don't know.
I never saw his mic.
Viv's having kittens.
The new tailor fucked the rubber.
Can you drive? Look out, they're behind us.
You'd better put your foot down.
Put your foot down, we'll lose 'em easy.
Faster! Go faster! Ding, ding! I hate driving.
Well, I never had a father who would teach me.
Me neither.
I learned on building sites.
Oh, so you have had gainful employment? I wouldn't say that.
Bloody hell! Then I graduated to scooters.
Oi! Come here! I prefer cars.
I'll drive them till they run out of petrol, and then I'll just nick another one.
But how do you get away with it? So, I worked out that for most people a kid like me doesn't even exist, right? So, if I don't exist, I can't be seen.
You know, I just throw on the old cloak of invisibility, I'd go to toy stores, department stores, wherever, I just took what I wanted and walked out.
You're a right little anarchist, aren't you? Yeah Kids like you, they're gonna kick the establishment right up their collective arseholes.
Oh, yeah! Yeah! That's what we're doing with the band.
We're just shaking it all up.
Hang on a minute, lads, I got a great idea.
You and Viv should come and see us rehearse.
You should promote us.
Manage us.
What do you think about "Weimar Republic" - for the next collection? - Uh cool.
Oh, no, it's just up here.
Pull over here, on the right.
Come see us rehearse.
I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
Perhaps "Weimar" is a bit poncey.
All right, I will.
Now, come and help me with this tailor.
- We're closing! - Malcolm's managing the band.
The Wankers! He's coming to see us rehearse tomorrow night.
D'you wanna suck me cock before there's a queue around the block? I'll restrain myself.
How about I go down on you, then? Very equal opportunity in that regard.
That's most gracious No! Suit yourself.
I bet you sing, don't you? I reck you'd be right good an' all.
You're so full of shit, Jonesy.
See, that's it, right there! You're as tough as nails, but when you say "Jonesy", there's that little bit of magic in it.
- Fuck off! - Prove me wrong.
I'm not gonna sing for you.
I promise I won't ever ask you to suck me cock again.
That is an incentive.
Maybe I'll hear of a band who want a girl singer.
That's if you can sing.
Pretend that you're on stage with Bowie in Cleveland, Ohio.
- Only if you be Bowie.
- I don't know the words.
Didn't know what time it was The lights were low I leaned back on my radio Some cat was layin' down some rock 'n' roll "Lotta soul," he said ♪ Don't be shy.
I'm happy listening to you.
Cat got your balls? Came back like a slow voice on a wave of phase That weren't no DJ, that was hazy cosmic jive Du-Du, Du-Du, Du-Du There's a starman waiting in the sky He'd like to come and meet us But he thinks he'd blow our minds There's a starman waiting in the sky He's told us not to blow it cos he knows it's all worthwhile He told me Let the children lose it Let the children use it Let all the children boogie ♪ Equal opportunity time, Jonesy.
Chrissie? Nick! Fuck! I forgot to lock the door.
Hang on! Mm, trying on a bit of new rubber, are we? - Let me see.
- Wait, one sec.
Hi! Hi! - Everything all right? - Sure! Yeah, let's go.
All right, Nick? How ya doin'? Hi.
Are you working here now? Nah, I can't count to ten.
Malcolm's managing the band.
What band? - The Swankers.
- The Wankers? Swankers.
- It's edgy.
- And I I was helping him get his looks together.
For the band.
You've definitely got a future in fashion If the music don't work out.
We should go.
- Right.
- Not you! Me and Nick.
All right, I'll catch you at rehearsals tomorrow night.
You should come, Nick.
Get on the ground floor of "The Next Big Thing".
- Right.
- Swankers! Maybe.
'The potato shortage 'has had many unexpected consequences.
'Our chips are in short supply.
'The prices have shot up at local fish and chippies.
' You got work in the morning, love.
Shall I tell him to stop? Don't make him feel bad.
Are you and Dad gonna need your room back? It's getting late.
Malcolm McLaren is coming to see us rehearse tomorrow.
Oh, lovely.
Fifteen more minutes? - I'll tell Dad.
- All right.
Thanks, Mum.
'more bread and butter, but they don't complain.
' What do you think of Steve? Well, he's very damaged.
- But that's quite good.
- Yes.
Makes his mind work in a very original way.
I'm thinking of taking on his band.
Oh, Mal! After what happened with The New York Dolls! The New York Dolls are up their own arses.
You tried to dress them as Chinese communists, pet.
It didn't suit the music or their ethnicity.
I am creating a revolution here.
I don't want musicians, I want saboteurs, assassins, I want shock troops! Steve's the real deal.
He's got nothing else to live for.
Open it! Oi! Oi, Ron, you cunt! Open the fucking door! Some people have to work in the morning.
- Yeah, then don't bolt it.
- Oh, yeah? Right, so I should risk getting burgled, just so you can treat this place like a hotel? The only stuff worth nicking's mine.
That's because you're a thieving little prick! Why can't you get a job like a normal kid? - And end up like you? - You lazy sod! Making rubber rings, ain't it? - It's honest.
- "Honest"! Come home covered in stinking filth, like a beaten dog - fucking pathetic! Steve! Apologise to Ron.
Oh, no, no, no, you're gonna apologise! - Stop it! - Yeah? - You fucker! - You speak to me like that? Stop it! Stop it! - Apologise! - Fuck that! Or you can leave this home for good.
Thanks for making the choice so easy.
You finally got what you always wanted - me mum, all to yourself.
Ugh! I I just took a ride In a silver machine And I'm still feeling mean ♪ Hello? Fuck! - Oi! - Go, Willy! Fuck it! He's wasted! Come on, move it! You'll fucking die! - You little fucker! - Will you shut it? Come on, you little bastard! You're mine! You're mine! Oh, yeah! Come on, little dickhead! Where did you get that? Thieving little sod! Your mum's coming home tonight.
You, see you? You tell her any stupid stories, she'll throw you out of this house, and you will go straight to the orphanage where you belong.
She'd be happier without you.
And you know that, don't ya? Ey? Did you hear me? Did you hear - Steve Jones got nicked.
What? Word is, he's going away for a few years.
That guy is incredible.
He'd steal his own gravestone if he could.
I heard he even stole Keith Richards' coat.
At least he didn't steal his music.
What? Nothing.
What do you think of this open tuning in G? Yeah! Sounds just like Keith.
Breaking and entering.
Petty larceny.
Resisting arrest.
Assaulting police.
You have been quite the miscreant, haven't you, Mr Jones? - Yes.
- "Your Honour.
" - What? - "Your Honour.
" Yes, Your Honour.
And how do you plead in this matter, your most serious to date? Uh, guilty, Your Honour.
So, we as a society must ensure that you reform your ways.
That must involve punishment.
Before I pass sentence, do you have anyone to speak on your behalf? Parents? Teachers? Character witnesses? No, Your Honour.
See, I'm nothing but a lazy s - So sorry I'm late.
- Who are you? I'm Malcolm McLaren, Your Honour, Mr Jones's employer.
I thought your client was unemployed, Mr Wentworth? Haven't had very long with the brief.
No, far from it.
Mr Jones is our most promising employee.
"Promising"? - At what exactly? - Everything.
I find that difficult to believe.
Well, I did, too, at first, Your Honour.
But you see, Mr Jones, who did grow up so very poor, he was forced to leave school at a very young age in order to support his ailing mother, but sadly drifted into a rather unsavoury milieu.
But he's now become a shining example of the rehabilitative powers of hard work And guidance from the right sort of people.
And what is your business, Mr McLaren, Your Honour.
I and my family, we own and operate the Vivienne Westwood ladieswear corporation.
I don't know, you might've heard of us.
We have a number of boutiques.
I'm entirely unaware of it.
Well, that's not unusual for a gentleman Your Honour.
However, I'm sure the fairer members of your family, they would've heard of us.
Given the serious nature of this matter, I fear your rehabilitative powers have failed you.
I do I blame myself, Your Honour.
You see, I was away in Paris at the time, on business, and the only father figure that poor old Mr Jones has ever really had was his great-uncle Dicky.
Isn't that right? Yes.
He was a fighter pilot during the war, and he was shot down over Belgium.
He subsequently lost his leg.
He died on the night of the incident.
Uh who died? Uncle Dicky.
So, you see, Mr Jones here, with no one of any real moral compass to console him in his moment of grief, well, he ran with his old crowd and perhaps drank rather too much and did go on to commit this terrible crime.
But I give you my word, Your Honour, that if you let this young, silly fellow here have one more chance, I shall make it my life's personal mission to see that he reaches his true potential as a truly astounding member of this society.
You're a bloody genius.
Quickly now, before he changes his mind.
Honestly, no one's ever even done anything like that for me.
I don't think I'd ever even done that for my own son.
But still, I mean, how was I supposed to get you to play your first gig? "Gig"? Gig, yes.
That's what a manager does, doesn't he? He lines up gigs for his band.
You haven't even seen us play.
Details! You have the authenticity, my boy, you got that kamikaze spirit.
But "Swankers", I mean, that's got to go.
It was terrible.
From now on, it's "Kutie Jones".
- "Kutie Jones"? - Yes, that's you.
"And his Sex Pistols".
- When's this gig? - Shit! A bloody ticket! Tonight.
- "Tonight"? - Yes.
Is there a problem? Apart from that I just got out of the nick five minutes ago? We're outlaws.
- Are we? - Yes.
And tonight, we're going to change the world.
You're up for that, aren't you? - Course I am! - Good, good.
You can drive! I nearly killed myself getting here.
I hear you boys need a singer! Hey, hey, hey! You're cutting it fine, ain't you? By the skin of his Artful Dodger teeth.
- Who's got a beer? Come on.
- There he is! - Welcome back, pet.
- Oh, thanks, Viv.
Chrissie, bring that shirt.
Viv made you a new cloak.
I need one an' all.
I thought you could wear this tonight.
It's our declaration of war.
Across the top it says, "You're going to wake up one morning "and know what side of the bed you've been lying on.
" And then down this side, it's got all the dead culture that we hate, like synthetic food, Max Bygraves, the Head of the Metropolitan Police, Andy Warhol, etc.
And on the other side, we have things we love.
Legal aid, when you can get it, Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix, Sam Cooke, Muhammad Ali, and right here, Kutie Jones and His Sex Pistols.
Huh! That's pretty good company to be in.
You are the leader of our shock troops.
Things are finally going to change.
Can you feel it? Oh, yeah.
Yeah, definitely.
Nick's coming, too.
He's gonna write about it.
Great! Do you mind if I have some time with the lads? Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, good, good! Play your last string.
Come on! - Who's got a Mandy? - Is that a good idea? Settle down, Grandma! Right, what's on the menu for tonight? Well We open with "Lazy Sod".
Of course, everybody's favourite.
Right! - One, two, three, four! - Yes! Yeah! I can't do it! lazy sod ♪ What's he doing? Say something! Good boy! Don't you stop, you lazy little sod.
You finally found something you're good at.
That's it.
Don't stop.
Lazy little sod.
Don't you fucking stop.
A bit faster.
Go faster.
That's it.
Oi! What the fuck is wrong with you? Piss off! - No! - Piss off! No, I'm not gonna piss off.
All I've heard from you for Christ knows how long now is the band, the band, the band.
Yeah, go on.
My mum and dad have a drum kit in their bedroom because of you! Oh, yeah? And you bottle it! You fucking bottle it like this! Yeah! I'm not good enough.
Yeah, none of us are, but we're getting better.
I'm never gonna be good enough, so For singing, or? It's all right for you, ain't it? Cos you're smart, you got your apprenticeship, and you got a mum and dad who put up with a drum kit in their fucking bedroom cos they Cos they I'm funny.
You know, I screw a lot of birds, and I act tough.
But when I'm up there, and I've got nowhere nowhere left to hide.
It just makes me remember what a total waste of space I really am.
Steve Steve!
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