Stag

'It's Ian.

'Your future brother-in-law.'

I'm here for the stag.

'For 2K all-in, we're guaranteed a weekend's worth of pure man shit,

'my friends.'

River says no. There'll be no hunting this weekend.

- Now, hang on, matey. - What are we paying you for?

THUNDER RUMBLES

To the kill! The kill.

THUD, SQUELCH

Aitken?

Argh!

Shit!

Whoever finds him shouts to the other one, we meet back here.

Aah!

Wendy.

Oh, God.

If only Christoph was here, he'd know what to do.

He's not here, is he?

'I'm as broke as it comes. The others, '

they talked me into sinking all my cash

into some stupid offshore scheme in Guernsey.

Come on, Neils!

Run!

GUN COCKS

Oh...

I'm going to enjoy this.

WIND WHISTLES

Nothing Ever Happens by Del Amitri

What the bloody hell's that?

Hey!

What the bloody hell are you playing at?

Get off the track - you want to get yourself killed?

THUNDER CRASHES

CLOCK CHIMES

I'm going to ask you one question.

And you're going to give me a straight answer.

What have you done...

with Katie?

Who?

My bitch.

My dog!

I don't know, I mean, we couldn't care less about your dog.

I mean, I...

We like her,

but we don't know where she is, currently.

Do we, guys? No.

I'm going to ask you one more time.

- What have you done with my dog? - OK, now, listen... matey.

Killing any more of us,

I mean, it's not going to prove anything, is it?

I think you've made your point.

Oh, we all know what's going on here, don't we?

I mean, these guys work in banks.

I mean, they earn more in an hour than you do in an entire year.

But they pay less tax!

And you resent them for it.

And they get that.

We know where you're coming from.

But enough now.

Seriously.

Having said that...

...if there genuinely is no changing your mind,

could I just point out that I, myself...

KETTLE WHISTLES AS IT BOILS

...do not work in the City.

Um, I'm a television executive.

One of the good guys.

A grafter.

Fill it.

Right, here's what's going to happen next.

I'm going to take my Land Rover and I'm going to find my dog.

Then I'm going to come back here and take care of you.

The cap's a bit loose, be careful.

DOOR SHUTS

Right, fuck this for a game of conkers, I'm off.

He just told us not to go anywhere.

Exactly.

And trust me, the second that tartan psycho finds his pooch,

he'll be back to butcher us all.

If he was going to kill us, he would have done it just then.

The man has Aitken hanging up in his kitchen.

I mean, think about it - who else has Ledge pissed off

since we've been here?

I mean, who else owns a harpoon?

Let the twat go, that's what I say.

"I'm just a TV exec. Kill them, not me."

Last chance.

Fine.

Your funerals.

DOOR SHUTS

Wait, Cosmo!

You can't just leave.

Not like this.

If you're right and he's the killer, then...

we're dead.

If you're wrong, you are.

You've known these guys for years.

You can't just not say goodbye.

Your cummerbund's upside down.

You might want to get inside.

Yeah.

There.

OWL HOOTS

GROANING IN DISTANCE

STONES CLATTER DOWN HOLE

FAINT SPLASH AND HISS

Oh, what the hell.

Shit!

Oof! Urgh!

I'm not sure we should, to be honest.

That looks like an expensive bottle. We don't want to piss him off.

I think that ship might have sailed.

To Aitken.

To Wendy.

To Neils.

To Cosmo.

Well, it's pretty likely.

Ahh...

Yes?

Nothing, it's just... I just noticed

that you didn't put your little finger up.

- I'm sorry? - Your pinkie.

- It wasn't perky. - He's right, you know.

So, that's a forfeit.

ANGUS GIGGLES

Trousers down...

drink what's left!

What, all of it?

- "Finish", it says here. - If it flows, it goes.

Fine.

THEY LAUGH

Rrr!

HEAVY KNOCKING AT DOOR

Maybe Fatty lost his nerve.

Maybe it's the Fear Mor?

HANDLE RATTLES, DOOR BANGS

Positions!

This is my space! Go!

LIGHT SWITCH CLICKS

CLICKS AGAIN

FLOORBOARD CREAKS

- Huh! - Ah!

- Mex! - Aaiii!

Aargh!

G'day, boys!

Argh! Christ!

Ian!

Christoph, are you OK?

Christoph?

What the actual fuck?

It's a fork.

HE STRAINS

HE PANTS

Hnnn! Still got it. Ahh!

Yeah, still got it.

'I'm so sorry about your arm.'

How did you know we were here?

That is a very good question, Mex.

That is very pertinent indeed.

I sent you the e-mails.

- Hm, did you? - Yes.

- Did you? - Yes.

Did you?

I thought I did.

But did you?

Or did you just try and cut me out,

like you normally do, by sending them to my Hotmail account?

The one you know I haven't looked at since 2002.

You don't look at your Hotmail account?

Well, you know, whatever.

It's fantastic you found us, buddy.

How did you find us, by the way?

It wasn't easy.

I had to get a cab all the way from Glasgow, didn't I?

The cab driver was in a foul mood the whole way,

because A, he's Scottish...

...and B, he'd only just got back

from dropping off some ponce in a dinner jacket.

I'm so sorry about your arm.

Yeah, you said.

Taxi!

Taxi!

Wait, please, driver.

Yep.

DOOR OPENS

Whoo!

Fulham Palace Road, please, mate.

You, er...

might want to reset that.

I've only just got in.

Friend.

Hey.

Hey!

HORN HONKS

Oh, God.

HORN BLARES

HORN BLARES

HORN STOPS

Eurgh! Oh, God.