Industry

- Hi. - Hi.

Okay, cheers!

- Cheers! - Cheers!

But how... how the fuck do you afford a place like this?

Talent.

You don't have to be up early?

No.

My boss, he flies to Africa basically weekly.

And that's my lie-in.

I don't wanna take advantage of you.

You can use your tongue wherever you want.

Come on.

My ex said my pussy looks like pink bubble gum.

Hey, hey. Hi.

- Morning. Morning. - Morning.

Sorry, yeah, I... I made some... coffee.

Thank you.

Well, if you told me your name, I've forgotten it.

- What did we do? - So, I'm...

I'm... I'm Jim.

Jim Dycker... from FinDigest .

You're the only person who replies to me.

No one at your company returns my calls.

James Dycker?

Oh, my god. I replied to that as a professional fucking courtesy.

Yeah, no, no. I know, I know. But look.

Listen. There... there are multiple anonymous ways to...

Oh, my god. What the actual fuck?

What the fuck are you even talking about?

Get out of my fucking house!

All your quotes could be not for attribution.

Or just let me speak to your boss.

You followed me?

Are you fucking crazy?

Okay, the time to get your little notepad out

has fucking passed, dickhead!

- Okay. - Okay, get out!

Get the fuck out of here with journalistic ethics

you fucking stalker!

And my boyfriend will be home soon

and he's big, and he's fucking Black!

Wow. W-W-What does that mean?

You know what it means, bitch!

I wasn't intending to come back here, okay?

But I'm human. I made an error of fucking judgment.

I know, I know. But listen.

I've been communicating with your boss's old assistant.

Maybe, maybe, ask him about her.

Where is she? I guess NDA'd to fuck, okay?

Because questions, they don't just disappear

because he denies they exist.

- What are you doing? - Fuck!

- Get the fuck... - Whoa!

- Get the fuck out of here! - All right.

- I will fucking cut you! - Stop. I'm leaving. I'm leaving.

I'm leaving, I...

If I could just... just get my jacket.

It's just got my keys in it!

Fuck!

Fucking hell!

You guys are acting shifty.

Are you under or overstimulated?

I had a three-bottle lunch on Friday

with James Ashford from Ashford Asset Management.

He was so livid, he forgot to flirt with the waitress.

He had a trapdoor behind his eyes opened

like a man weighing a divorce.

You know, a professional one.

What are you talking about?

Anyway, he said he was gonna make official contact

i.e., not boozy-lunch contact

with our investor relations guy

about withdrawing capital from your fund.

You're paid to outperform the market

not track it.

Roland, I fucking concur.

So maybe you can tell me

why it is I'm faced with a firing squad

every time I try to put a short on.

I'm here to offer counsel.

I've not seen you offering counsel in anyone else's office.

- Is your counsel Otto's diktat? - Otto's retired.

I'm really tired of dancing around

the fact that I was promised a fund

and given what feels like a separately managed account

with claustrophobic levels of oversight.

Head of UK Discretionary Sales is just a verbose way

of saying "babysitter," let's be honest.

I wanted to know whether you intended

to keep running the short basket you had on.

This OnlyFans and Siren nonsense is spooking your investors.

More surveillance. I am managing this fund, okay?

And yes, it is still my view

that the Online Safety Bill will be a negative catalyst

for those adult content players.

So now our primary trade centers around mid-cap spank sites?

Compelling.

I guess one could argue

these porn services are predatory platforms

that coerce the vulnerable.

Is there something you want to say to me directly, or...

No, no, sorry. I... I misspoke. My bad.

Yeah, I just... I don't think that we should be trading minutes

around specific verbiage of government statements

that could pertain to a basket of names.

I mean, it's not like these are criminal enterprises.

Well, Siren's prevalence

in my search history feels criminal though.

That's a joke. Sorry, my bad.

I don't... I don't consider myself a prolific masturbator.

Okay, enough, enough.

Gentlemen, I think we're done here.

Unless you'd like to troubleshoot any other methods you got cooking up

to tell me how to do my fucking job.

I used to think we looked the same age.

If I thought I was gonna live this long

I would've taken better care of myself.

You should try a semen retention streak.

It firms up the collagen in your face.

No fap. No cap, you do that shit?

No, does it look like I need to?

Dude, you're glowing.

You chalk that up to infrequent ejaculation?

I drink a lot of water. You're glowing too.

For a man who comes as much as I do?

Yes. No, wait, what the fuck are we even talking about?

It's just a redux of the '90s

and the pearl-clutching of the Christian right.

I agree, it's Newt Gingrich with a blue rinse job.

But Siren's age-verification methods remain fucking trash.

So they're the lightning rod for all this shit

because they committed the crime of being the most popular.

Look, man, this is the Labour government's crusade

against children being turned into pornography

and I maintain our mission statement should always be expansion.

What...

Hey, you pushed us into fucking Africa.

What's the next territory we can slap a tag on

and call "the Global South"?

Look, I know you think

the nuts and bolts of our biz is tawdry.

"Tawdry"? Dude, it's about censure, regulation

and the potential erosion of our profit model

while we thumb our own asses with no eye on the future.

I need coffee.

- I can't shit that much. - Thirty.

I'm not calling the CEO of a company that pays us a shitload of cash

just to spook him over some government virtue signaling.

It's the Labour Party's first 100 days in government.

They want splashy, ideological headlines

like this bill, that end up going nowhere.

Why do we work with Siren and their evergreen users?

Because human perversion is a hydra.

What more needs saying?

So once again, you railroad me into getting what you want.

If that's how you choose to see it, sure.

I mean, do me a favor and light the candle that I got you.

I bought it on my personal

and there's an ambient fog of something in here.

There's been a few comments.

And that's antithetical to executive function?

Yes. Yes, it is. Will you indulge me?

Come by my office tomorrow, and let me lay this out for you?

Do we have any boba? Is that a thing that we do?

I don't know what that is, but I can check.

Yeah, will this indulgence make you shut the fuck up about it?

- It may well do. - Then I'll be there.

You do look great, by the way, for a man twice your age.

- Let's do doubles then, yeah? - Doubles, definitely.

Boss! My round?

Yeah, one for everyone. I've just been promoted.

You're actually at a wake.

- A what? - You're at a wake.

Oh, yeah? Who died?

No one you'd know, I don't think.

You can buy me a drink still, if you want.

- What do you want? - Gin and tonic, please.

- Two gin and tonics. - Coming up, boss.

When you're touched by God like he is, you can do as you please.

Your mob had 15 years to bring about real change

and you bankrupted the country.

Look, the Online Safety Bill, it really isn't radical.

You would say that

as someone who pens Bevan's speeches

and soft-peddles her Orwellian nightmare.

Yeah, I mean, people's online activity

is effectively being NSA'd, no?

They'll be logging our bowel movements soon

like the Chinese.

I mean, listen, you must know

what Bevan's gonna say tomorrow, right?

Where do you work again?

I could have sworn that I recognized you.

I mean, there's thousands of me across London.

Fuck off.

Right, I'm gonna get another round.

Yeah, put it on my tab. It's been a good year.

Gobby little harridan, but cheeky.

She's got this doppelgänger on Siren.

I'm 90% sure it's not her.