Witless

Tony!

This young man, Ian, is an angel.

Well, I don't know about that, Mrs Forrest.

What are you doing?!

(You're going to get us their address.)

'Leave immediately.'

As soon as we get news about Jackie, we need to get out of here.

That guy could have followed us.

Shit!

Disguises. This guy, he'll be in overnight, right?

I had a quick swizz down his chart. He ain't coming out.

I think we've found a bed for the night.

What's happening? Where am I?

Where do you think you are, Scumbo?

You shot an innocent woman.

You are in the back of a prison van on the way to Clinky, Rhona.

- What? - Rhona!

Rhona!

Sorry. Yeah, sorry. I was...

Where are we? We are in the caravan, remember?

Yes, right.

And what it is, is I woke up and this was happening.

Do you think it could be the gang? No.

No, they'd just kill us instantly,

not tow us down the middle lane of the motorway at 50mph.

It could be caravan theft. There's a lot of that around.

Could be on our way to a traveller's site.

Maybe that's not a bad hideout.

Marry 16-year-old boys, clean all day in low-cut tops...

No, it's just the caravan owner going on a little jaunt. Mm...

Balls!

Why did we have to break into a caravan?

Why don't we just sleep in the park like normal vagrants?

I think it's a very positive thing, actually.

How?

We are getting a free lift away from Swindon and all that danger.

And we've not had to give a single hand job to a lorry driver.

Yes, to the first bit but, if she finds us in here,

then she's going to call the police.

So what we do? Well, I guess just sit tight, keep our heads down and,

as soon as she stops, run for it.

Please leave your message after the tone.

All right?

Yeah. I want you to get all your crew together,

everyone you've got selling,

get down The Badger at 12 for an audience with the boss man, yeah?

Right, what's going on now? That's midday.

Not ten past. Not 20 fucking five past.

Cup of tea...

Have you heard? Tony Forrest's wife's called in.

He didn't come home last night.

Er, yes, I'm probably only his best friend

out everyone here at the station,

so who do you think she spoke to?

Look, they are having difficulty.

You happy? I think he might be our mole.

I would advise you to choose your words incredibly carefully, Wilton.

There's an assassination attempt on our witnesses.

They get a tip-off about a mole on the same night that Boris opens...

Shhh...

Sergeant Forrest and I are very close friends.

Our dogs get along.

I've been at his house on several Boxing Days.

Now, I'm just going to pretend you didn't just say any of that.

Right, we are on the M4 westbound.

I think we deserve to go on holly-pops

after all what we've been through.

Now, Rhona, I know you like rye bread and organic butter

but we are camping now, so it's white slice and marge.

Leanne, can you maybe not do that? We are trying to be discreet here.

Stand back. I'm going to flip a pancake.

The first one is always shit.

How's your bum boy, then?

Ian's dead.

Yeah, you fucking heard me right.

Ian's dead.

Down in a car park, middle of fucking nowhere.

Run over like a fucking dog.

So, first off, we are having a whip round!

Some of you know Mandy, Ian's fiancee, and his little lad.

Here you are. 200 fucking quid.

Get your hands in your pockets, dig deep.

Now, who's going to tell me what happened?

What's he doing in a car park in the middle of fucking nowhere?

Yes, thank you! Speak!

Er...I was with Ian yesterday.

I was with this copper, who gives us information.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Danny boy, likes a wank.

He gave us the address of those two girls,

the ones that saw Mogs.

And... Yeah, when I left him, he had gone to the copper, Ian did.

So this fucker's done it, then, has he?

And these witnesses.

So that's all dealt with, then, is it?

Well... Fuck me! Come on! What?

When I got to the flat, I heard a gunshot.

So?

So I hung back. Why? You had a gun as well.

You know, assess the situation.

Oh, right, assess!

Well, that's good, isn't it?

Hey, he was assessing the situation!

He hadn't just fucking shit himself!

What then?

Then an ambulance came

and they brought the fat bird out on a stretcher.

Then the two girls came out.

Obviously, I couldn't do it, really, you know what I mean?

There's people about. They gave me a name, though.

Yeah, Charlie Little Pockets.

Charlie Little Pockets?

Fuck me! I know that name.

And what about these fucking girls, then?

They... They went off in the ambulance.

Fucking hell!

I followed them, all the way to the hospital.

Come here, you.

Come here!

Look at me, look at me!

Ian didn't die so you could assess the fucking situation, did he?

Leave these fucking girls running around.

Now, this is fucking serious!

A man has died, a good man.

So you...

gotta take out these witnesses.

You see that...?

Yeah. Yeah? Yeah. Yeah?

Finish the fucking job!

Mm-mm.

Leanne...OMG is not a word.

So that's why it comes up on my predictive text, then, is it?

We're slowing down.

We're slowing down!

That's nine points to me.

Yes, we are. We're pulling into services.

Is it a Welcome Break? Cos they're my favourite.

Right, put that away. Get ready, let's go!

I think we got away with it.

Mrs Ambrose is cheating on Mr Ambrose!

I'm sorry, but that is disgusting, actually.

Come on.

I'm glad I cleaned her out of her pancake mix now.

We're going to have a proper big send-off for Ian, do it right,

send his kid to Disney World.

The Florida one, eh - not the fucking Euro bollocks.

Apart from that, business as usual.

One part of you is going to be running things.

Now, is there anything else I need to know

before I go upstairs and fuck my missus?

No?

I killed a grass.

What? Nothing.

What did you just say, son?

It's just, uh, this lad I worked with.

He knows him.

He was going to speak to the police.

So I shot him.

He's dead.

Fucking hell.

And who's told you to do that, then, son?

Because I certainly fucking didn't.

I just thought, you know...

..can't have grasses.

Stand up.

Stand up!

Get your pants down.

What?

Get your fucking pants down.

Underpants. Come on. Let 'em fucking see.

Come here.

Now, those...are a pair of fucking bollocks.

He's got them. You haven't.

No, no, don't hide them, son. Let them see.

Clap.

Give his balls a round of a-fucking-pplause.

Come on! Clap!

Fucking well done, son.

Here, what kind of crisps do you like? Uh, Quavers.

Quavers! Give him some Quavers.

Give him the whole box, you fucking tight bastard!

Come on.

Fucking good work, son. Fucking nice one!

You could learn from him.

I should have given the fucking address to him.

Well done, mate.

You can pull them up now, mate.

So...what now?

Could we just live here for a bit?

What, in the services? Yeah.

Like Tom Hanks in that film.

Or that guy that I went out with when I was 17.

God, he was mature!

I want to find a phone box, call the hospital,

see if there's any news about Jackie. Yeah, good idea.

And then we need a plan,

figure out how we get ourselves out of this.

At least we've still got the... gun.

Shit!

Shit, I can't find the keys! Oh, my God!

Baby, I got you...