Ladhood

- Hey. Heya.

Oh, I actually remembered that spare key you got me for once.

I'm so sorry I'm late.

I got stuck with a really difficult problem at the climbing wall.

But anyway, I cannot wait to try this chicken!

I'm looking forward to it. Oh.

Hmm.

Oh, yeah, I was going to do the recipe

from the men's cookery club, wasn't I?

I just didn't really have the energy for that in the end.

Mmm.

But you had the energy to kick the shit out of the bin?

How was work?

- Fine. - How did the pitch go?

I want to start off by thanking you guys for this opportunity

to pitch my ideas for an exciting new direction

for Buccaneer Bill Rum.

I want to teach you a new word today, "rumification."

I am envisioning the rumification of Manchester,

the rumification of Scotland,

the rumification of Ripon.

Buccaneer Bill is a problematic buccaneer.

This is something we can use...

...what I want us to focus on is de‐problematising

pirate masculinity.

I want us to think about the semiotics of cola bubbles.

I really hope you can take on board some of these,

if I say so myself, brilliant ideas,

for our brand.

Erm, I think... To be honest, I think...

I think we'll just stick with what we've got

though.

"Rum is fun."

Is that... Is that a concept?

It's a rhyme.

- It's not even a rhyme. - Well, it's a half rhyme.

- Yeah, that sucks. - Yes.

Kicking the bin just seems like a pretty immature way

to react, though, no?

"Ralph wept for the end of innocence,

"the darkness of man's heart and the fall through the air

"of the true wise friend called Piggy."

So that's, for me, basically about boyhood sensitivity

of the emotional wisdom and potential loss

in restrictive notions of masculinity.

The correct answer is actually stormy weather equals tension,

but thank you for that completely unprompted speech, Liam.

You can sit down now. And next time,

don't stand up and come to the front unless I ask you to.

Right, for this chapter...

My old English teacher, Mr Dreyfus.

Absolute goon.

He thinks you're a knobhead, he thinks you're a knobhead,

he thinks you're a knobhead, she...

Look, I'm just going to say it.

I think you're showing signs of anxiety and depression.

- Like what? - Well, anger.

What are you talking about?

- Self‐loathing. - Sorry for getting angry.

I know I'm pathetic. I'm a child.

Overthinking.

No, I know you think that, but it's not true.

I've been thinking for a while that you think I'm overthinking,

but that's just a perception that you have that you're putting on me

that then starts to actually get inside my head and does...

Stop! Stop.

You say you're going to get your shit together.

You say you're going to take up slam poetry again.

- It's not actually slam poetry. - You never do.

You say you want us to move in together, but you can't even

treat your own possessions with any respect.

You say you want to be more active,

but whenever I ask you to come climbing you just say no.

- Is it 'cause you don't like heights? - No.

I just don't like the sort of people who go to climbing walls.

See, this is the whole thing.

You know, you just...

You used to be more positive and fun and just up for stuff.

You never used to be this, I don't know...

Unhappy.

Look, I know how you feel.

- But when I went to therapy... - I don't need to go for therapy.

I haven't got anxiety and depression or anything like that.

I'm just from the north.

I mean, being from the north

is not a mental health condition.

Jess, you're from the Midlands.

You wouldn't understand.

Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.

No, it's fine. Look, my point is...

Look, I definitely don't want us to break up.

What the fuck?

- Why are you saying that? - What?

That you want us to break up.

I just said I definitely do not want us to break up.

Yeah, but you saying that you definitely don't want us to break up

means you definitely do want us to break up.

That's not how language works.

- Oh. - What're you doing?

I'm storming out.

Good idea, just clear your head.

- Well, don't approve. - (SIGHS) Huh?

It sort of undermines me storming out

if you think it's a good idea.

Oh, sorry, sorry. No, wait.

Please don't go storming out of your own flat, leaving me here all alone.

- Just please. - All right, don't overdo it.

Another bin ruined and Jess is annoyed again.

Maybe she just doesn't understand because she's not

a straight white man, and it's actually really hard to be

a straight... Fucking hell.

What a stupid thought.

I really am in a bad place.

But if Jess really knew what I'm a product of,

she'd know that therapy or pills can't cure that.

It's in your blood.

I know I'm going to be late.

Life is hard for most teenagers, but my teen angst

went further than everyone else's.

Everyone else might have been a moody teenager, but I,

I was different and better.

I was an existentially disillusioned teenager.

In terms of any actual psychological support,

there came little beyond the PE/PSHE teacher, Mr Stones.

Bins are to be respected.

There is never, ever a reason to kick a bin,

especially not existential disillusionment.

So, next time you feel angry or sad,

bottle it up.

Bottle it up and then unleash it on t'badminton court.

Stones had once represented the county at badminton,

so all his advice took the form of badminton metaphors.

In badminton, you always keep your eye on the shuttlecock.

In life, you always keep your eye on the problem at hand.

There comes a time in life where you just need to get out

on that court and play badminton.

This is that time.

It's badminton time.

- (WHISTLE BLOWS) - Craggy, take a breather.

Liam needs a kick up t'arse.

Right.

I want to see a lot more enthusiasm from you, laddie. Are you ready?

Stonesy's!

Stonesy's!

Stonesy's cock!

Yours, Liam!

What the hell is up with you?

I don't know, sir, I just don't...

- I don't feel good. - Right, I'll be doctor.

Definitely not an acceptable thing for a PE teacher to say.

Definitely not even an expression.

Stand there. Craggy, you're back on.

Right, move your head. Good!

Right, flap your arms like a bird.

Come on, come on, come on, come on.

Right, touch your toes.

- I can't... - Touch your toes!

Good lad. Right, lunge with me.

Lunge. Come on.

Lunge with me! Right, other leg.

Right, you've got full range of motion. There's nowt wrong with you.

I don't know. I just... I don't... I don't feel good.

Look, son, when things aren't going your way,

you just need to change the direction...

- Of the shuttlecock. - ...of the shuttlecock, absolutely!

Mine!

Yeah!

Jesus Christ.

But just when it seems that the thudding monotony

of school life would never be broken,

something happens which meant that the thudding monotony

of school life was actually, in fact, broken.

Mr Dreyfus had gone on paternity leave.

So, for two weeks our English lessons would be taken

by a substitute, one Miss Monroe,

a very different kind of teacher.

Shut up.

O Captain! My Captain!

Right, I'm sorry I'm late,

but the head teacher was giving me

an absolute earful about smoking outside the smoking staffroom.

The smoking staffroom? Heady days!

Hello, everybody. My name is Miss Monroe.

Do teachers usually do this? Do they write their name on the thing?

Probably not.

Right, I'm your supply teacher.

How come you're not a proper teacher, Miss?

You think I want to be trapped in a classroom with you lot

five days a week?

Er, also, I'm writing a book, so...

What sort of book's that, Miss?

Erm, it's a sort of, er...

No, I really, really can't be asked to explain it to you lot.

Erm, so, Mr Dreyfus is away on paternity leave.

I didn't know he were pregnant.

What's your name?

I'm Ralph.

A bit of a joker, are you, Ralph?

- Yeah. - Tell us a joke, then.

- A joke? - Mmm.