Righteous Villains

Every man is said

to have a little bit of the devil in his heart.

But some men have more than most.

Let me go!

No.

He's not yours.

He's not yours!

No, no!

Come along, Mr. Hector.

One must show a certain level of dignity.

Even in times of great strife.

Just made a mistake.

Please.

I change my mind.

You can take it all back.

Please give me back my baby.

I just want my baby back, please.

You made an agreement, Mr. Hector

and a bloody good one, if you ask me.

Just suck it up, old chap.

Just do it, yeah?

Put the cunt out of his misery.

Go on.

God, please forgive me.

Kill him!

Toodle loo.

They control the entire world.

The money, the media.

They control everything.

Everything about our society is covered

in mucky little footprints allover it.

I mean, I see now,

you're one of the conspiracy theorists, oh yes.

I do love conspiracy theorists.

I was raised in the big old house

by my grandfather.

He belonged to a different generation to me

and he saw the world through a vintage lens.

But there's a maternal feel

about the home you were raised in

that pulls you towards it bosom

when the times are their worst.

No, keep still

because this is going to hurt.

Oh, it's just a cut.

Afternoon.

Mrs. Jackson?

Little did I know

this would be the last day of work

and the first day of the rest of my life.

Today would be the day that I met the devil

at the crossroads and sold my soul to him.

Yes.

Oh, of course you are.

Mrs. Jackson, you've got no idea

how extremely happy I am to catch you at home.

You see, I've got some magnificent news

to you, Mrs. Jackson.

Mind if I come in?

Well, what is it?

I haven't got any money, if that's what you're after.

Mrs. Jackson, I don't want a penny from you

but what I would like to be

is a person that informs you

that you have just won 10,000 pounds

on the post code lottery, madam.

Congratulations.

Oh, I haven't done the post code lottery.

Well, that's the wonderful thing

about the post code lottery, you see, madam.

You're entered automatically just living in the area.

You must of seen the TV advert

or had the flyers through your door or whatever?

This isn't a scam is it now?

I've got a confirmation letter

for you right there, darling.

Take your eyes on that.

Oh my god, I've actually won?

That's exactly right, Mrs. Jackson.

Now, all I need to do before I can release the check,

I've just got to run through a little bit of paperwork.

Is it all right if I come in?

Yes, of course.

Please come in.

My husbands at the bookies at the moment.

So he won't be long.

Oh he'll be over the moon, won't he?

Especially if he comes back with no winnings, eh?

He's not going to believe this.

Would you like a cup of tea, dear?

I'm actually in a little bit

of a hurry today, Mrs. Jackson.

I've three winners to visit before four o'clock.

So, if you could fill out sections one through three,

I'll get the paperwork processed for you

and be on me way, yeah?

Mrs. Jackson, do you mind if I borrow your loo?

Yes of course, upstairs on the left.

Brilliant, absolutely perfect.

I won't be a sec, Mrs. Jackson.

My journey to becoming a billionaire

began humbly when I was moved out

of my grandfather's home at 16

and into a hostel for the homeless and destitute.

Some days I'll go hungry,

but that poverty gave me gile,

and made me savvy and able

to fend for myself by any means necessary.

I was self employed and self sufficient.

But my soul stunk of the stench of a thief,

a liar, and a conman

and my long, hard road searching for a way out

of the poverty I chose for myself

by moving away from me granddad

and the proclivities of poverty

can drive even the most ambitious men

to the lowest stacks imaginable

and justifies it with those fateful words.

I do what I have to do to survive.

In my perverse previous life,

Shaun was about as close to an employer as I had.

He bought just about anything for the right price.

Yeah, that's a good one.

Over the years, I sold him

just about most things.

Before I forget, some weirdo was in here

looking for you the other day.

What do you mean a weirdo?

I don't know, he was a weirdo.

He was wearing a white suit.

What's this, 1975?

That's what I'm saying.

He's a fucking weirdo.

He left something for you.

Hang on.

Butterflies filled my belly.

They had begun to spin

and I can't describe the feeling

of the pull I had towards stress.

Maybe it was just a prospect of being well paid.

Either way, from that moment

I was already mentally preparing my journey ahead.

Seems like bollocks to me, mate.

Yes, so your friend Shaun, he did this to you?

You're not fucking listening, Grandad.

Of course, I am so.

All right, stay away from me, mate, honestly.

Adrestos was blessed with the power

of the third eye and lived deep

in the real beyond comprehension to an unblessed mind.

But when God gives you a gift,

he also hands you a knife

to stab yourself in the gut with.

Why are you doing that?

Honestly, what are you doing?

What the fuck is this?

Huh?

Unless I get some fucking answers,

I'm gonna start popping every single one

of you motherfuckers.

Huh?

Am I talking to my fucking self?

Why are you stabbing yourself up like that?

Can we lose the gun, please?

Jolie, I am very aware of your temperamental nature.

I say the wrong thing, you get trigger happy.

I'm a firm believer in the second amendment

and I will not survive my arms.

Second amendments actually a part

of the American constitution.

Yeah, so what?

Doesn't really apply, does it?

It does fucking apply

because there are 10 motherfuckers

waving around shotguns like cigarettes.

This son of bitch is stabbing himself up

and now he wants my fucking gun.

Well, I say no.

Fuck no!

Jolie, please.

Relax.

You are amongst friends.