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You know me, mate. A crowd, give me a crowd.

Give me a stage and I'll fucking sing. Know what I mean?

No.

I don't remember asking you. Andrew, did I ask him?

I don't care. The decision is final.

You'll make an announcement tonight that the two of you are going to work

again as a team for me at my fucking station.

Don't even try.

You smoke in here all the time.

What's this really about, Norman?

My ratings are the best in years, better than when he was with me.

The world has changed, we have to change with it.

Bullshit.

They kidnapped you, they beat you up, they burnt your car...

My old one.

They burnt your car to ashes. What more do you fucking want?

I want a bit of support.

Listen, your talk show, "The Grim Reality", is finished.

The people are frightened, the...

Technicians, producers, journalists, panelists.

I have a pile of resignations on my desk. They're all shit-scared.

Anthony is about the only one...

Anthony understands our work, don't bring him into this.

We were great, mate. He knows that we were very, very good together.

Yeah? And then you fucked it up.

Don't pick on him. He's about the only friend you've got left.

I would rather pull out all my teeth than interview any more

-of your celebrities. -Alright, alright!

Don't do it. But don't broadcast the interview tonight.

You can't, mate.

People are sick of it. Brexit. Brexit this, Brexit that.

Staying, leaving, out... It's bullshit.

They need some joy, that's what they need, lad.

They need some fun back in their lives, they need the G. R. Right?

Me and you.

Besides, you're putting an end to your career.

No. I'm just putting an end to lies.

Do you understand what's at stake here?

What, for you?

Okay.

Let's all just calm down.

Let me help you. Eh?

You?

Do me a fucking favor.

Okay, Jarvis, okay. Jarvis!

As per your contract with DBO, you have freedom of speech.

But you do not have my support.

Whatever happens, this is on you. Think about it.

You should've come to me first.

Is that a yes?

It's a maybe.

Good enough for me, mate.

Let's have one now, a quick one before the show?

-Get ready, you're on at 10 o'clock. -No. He's on at 11.

You're on at 11. Don't be late.

Knock yourselves out.

♪ Walked in the club Got so excited ♪

♪ I'm so perverted I'm so delighted ♪

♪ To see your face Come over to my place ♪

♪ Go and grab a beer, ain't no time to waste ♪

♪ Gotchu over to my house Look it here I turn it out ♪

♪ Tell you what I'm talkin' 'bout Digital style ♪

♪ Regressing all up in your spleen Ain't got time for in between ♪

♪ You know just off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Got no time for your philosophies ♪

♪ Got no time for your theories ♪

♪ All I know I wanna hear you from the back ♪

♪ Grab some champagne, girl I like it like ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

♪ Off with your face ♪

Sorry.

-Where were you? -Upstairs.

Is Andrew joining us?

For fuck's sake.

I'm telling you, every time Andrew Wilde steps foot in this building

it's impossible not to notice.

Yeah, tell me about it.

But he's part of your story, so what are you gonna do, eh?

That's the great Samuel S., coming this evening at midnight.

And of course, not to be missed, the Borderline Furry Animal Costume Party.

And if you have any other plans, I think you should cancel them.

And we are out.

This is DBO Radio 99.9 FM...

Smashed it, mate.

The sharpest insights...

Oh, I nearly forgot... This is for you, Julia brought it over.

Just in time...

What, she's still here?

She headed to your office about five minutes ago.

It's 10 minutes to 10 and we're listening to today's headlines...

What's he doing in my studio?

If you hadn't noticed, we're like fucking lepers at the minute, mate.

This fucking door!

I had to book him for the 9 o'clock as well.

... U. S. security officials have accused the U. K....

Jarvis!

This guy, this guy is good.

Careful, or you'll find yourself without a program.

Well done, mate, see you at the party.

... Oxfam, who was on a 99,000-pound salary...

... has resigned today, saying she takes full responsibility for a scandal...

Jesus Christ! Where did you find her?

She's fucking useless. Doesn't have a scooby,

but she's desperate to work with you, so...

-What's her name again? -Claire.

Claire!

Welcome to The Grim Reality.

Oh, I've been here for two months, Mr. Dolan.

I know. Just call me Jarvis, please.

Here's the last one.

Oh, yeah, webcams are out today, Jarv.

-What, again? -I know, I know.

Engineering are coming. Claire's just called someone.

-Have you got the interview ready? -Phil Collins has it.

What?

Norman hates Phil Collins, he's never gonna look there.

-Nice. -The sound is shite, though, mate.

I was wearing a wire, what do you expect?

I don't know whether you're brave or stupid,

but this is going to be nuclear, my friend. But what do I know?

Can you set up the intro for Andrew?

Where are you off to now?

Just give me two minutes.

It's always two minutes with you.

Two minutes, my arse.

Oh, come on, Samuel, man!

For fuck's sake, he's always doing this,

every single week.

Lazy bastardo.

DBO STAR JARVIS DOLAN ABDUCTED

DEAD ROOM

Your dad's there.

This place is awesome! How come you haven't shown it to me before?

Is there a problem?

Oh, no, no... I'll leave you up to it.

Did you see the state you left my office in?

Yes... I'll go and tidy that now.

Do you think this is a good idea,

after what happened last weekend?

Julia, this guy is an arsehole.

I think it's up to me to decide whether or not Sam's an arsehole.

Look, I don't want to have this conversation right now.

Alright, well, you go and tidy my office and I'll speak to him.

No fucking way. I can see you coming.

Look, I am going to the Borderline party, even if it's...

Even when I was five years old I couldn't stand it whenever you did that to me.

Okay.

Okay. Let's get a picture then, eh?

Thank you.

Party!

I'm going to go and tidy the office. But I'll see you later?

Alright.

I'll see you later.

What the hell is eating you, Jarvis?

Listen, I know that Norman thinks the sun shines out of your arse,

but I'm going to do my best to get you thrown out of here.

I mean, for fuck's sake, what am I supposed to have done?

Because I've got you sussed out for the coked-up little gigolo you are.

What are you on, man?

I know that Julia's nihilistic, I've-been-round-the-block pose

is attractive, but she's full of joy and she lives life to the fullest,

and I don't want to see a trace of bitterness and disappointment

because of you. Now you are going to go to your party,

you are going to play the fucking rock star,

and then you are going to bring her back here before the end of my show, got that?

Now you say "yes", like a good boy.

Yes.

Neat, now go and enjoy yourself.

Unstoppable, idealistic and totally independent-minded.

Change that bloody intro.

... in five, four, three, two...

The concept "post-truth" is so popular at the moment

that it's totally acceptable to disregard and ridicule facts.

Especially if those facts don't chime with how you feel.

And as individuals we are incapable of evaluating consequences.

If it feels right, you just do it. Who cares about the facts?

Well I do, and here are the facts. This is the truth.

Three days ago, fascist thugs, so-called patriots, kidnapped me,

burnt my car and threatened my family because I wouldn't respect

"the will of the people". And I understand it.

Over the last year I've gone on and on about Russian interference

in the Brexit process, about the secret motives of billionaires

who want to turn the U. K. into an off-shore tax haven.

But Russian interference, Russian money, wasn't just in the boardrooms

and the gentleman's clubs and the think tanks.

It was on the streets, it was in the pubs, it was on the terraces,

and it was organized by social media.

It was the Facebook post of the young woman in the headscarf,

just after the London Bridge attack, and it was telling you

that she was planning the next atrocity, when in reality she was just phoning

her mum and telling her that she was okay.

It's the voice in your head telling you that there are too many brown faces

in the doctor's waiting room, when in reality