Trinity

Richard Arc.

He's dead. He's dead?!

Well, I'm sorry. As I said, I didn't really know your father very well.

Could you...

I'm really very busy.

You can't understand how Trinity changed Dad, what it did to him.

Your niece? Hm.

I have grand plans for her.

You like me.

You...like me.

Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?

What about round two?

You are...everything I hate.

You're a cold mass of ungodliness and inherited prejudice and...

Now, I never, ever want to see you again!

So, please, for the sake of Trinity and your own place in it,

I want none of the bad behaviour or drunken mayhem

that is so traditional on Founder's Day.

Well done, but that had better be it.

She's really not going to like my contribution to the art fair.

As you know, dozens of Trinity alumni

will returning to the college today.

But none quite so impressive as a former student

who only hours ago confirmed his attendance -

an alumnus of 1983 - Crispin Hunter.

Crispin Hunter? Quite a coup.

That's a matter of opinion.

What - you don't agree? The man is a 24-carat prick.

Well, I gather he feels the same about you. It must drive you mad.

There he is - richest man in the world

and...what have you achieved in the last 20 years, Edmund?

Look, I don't care what he thinks about me.

What I do care about is Trinity.

Well, Founder's Day is an opportunity

for our alumni to give something back to the college

and with Mr Hunter's help, I could really change this place.

Change? In what way? Every way.

And then apparently, at the end of every Founder's Day,

students just get really drunk and throw themselves down Trinity Mound.

It's pathetic! Everyone in college just mucks around and gets drunk.

Looking ravishing as always.

I said you looked nice. What's wrong with that?!

Either of you care to enlighten me?

Such a dick. I still can't believe him and Rosalind are related.

Hey, you're gonna be part of the family soon.

Meet your parents day today, isn't it?

Thanks. I'm actually bricking it, Mads.

Ah, Maddy!

Get in there, you beauty!

Get off her! What are you doing?!

Mate, get off her. It's all right, mate. We're engaged!

Oh. Right.

Gethin. Theo.

Wow! Gethin! You're here!

And there's more plenty more where that came from.

What are you doing here?

You invited me up here for the big Founding Day piss-up.

Oh, right! Sorry. I've been so busy and...

Not to worry. I'm here now.

Oi. You drink beer? Yeah.

Well, we could get coffee.

Bosh! I'm in!

I knew a black lad back in the village.

Had the most enormous wanger.

He's a plumber now.

So, if we do a prank good enough, we're out of being Fools?

Historically, yes.

A sufficient jest on Founder's Day will release you from your contract.

Well, I've got a feeling we're not gonna be fools much longer.

Yeah, Raj. I've kind of got that feeling too.

Check this.

It says 'knob cheese'. Instead of not saying knob cheese.

He likes it! You like it!

I'm free!

I'm laughing at you, you pathetic runts.

20 years ago, Jasper Richards and Owain McGarvey

faked an alien landing on the front quad.

Five years after that,

Tommy Sewell and Greg Dettinger simulated an outbreak of leprosy

that closed the college for six months.

These were great Fools, who deserved their freedom.

This crappy flag, however, will not trouble the annals of history.

What? You said 'annals'!

It sounds like 'anals'! It does! It actually does!

Word of advice - up your game and sharpish.

Right. Ready.

You look nice. Well, I feel like crap.

All these nights worrying. Worrying? About what?

Well, this thing with Cooper.

Why were Richard's papers in his room?

He and Maltravers are hiding something

and I do not like being out of the loop.

Particularly when it involves Richard Arc?

Well, you're probably right. I am fixating.

I just need Crispin Hunter's signature on that contract

and then it will all come out and Maltravers is gonna be my bitch.

Once a Trinity scholar, always a Trinity scholar.

Where is he? He should have been here half an hour ago.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Bridgeford University welcomes Mr Crispin Hunter.

Angela. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Crispin Hunter. Well, you certainly make an entrance.

Marvellous. That's one for the Hunter newsletter.

Angela Donne. Claudette.

Mr Hunter's personal assistant.

Gabriel Lloyd. We...

I hope you don't mind me bringing her along.

Without her at my side, I'm lost.

Literally. He may be a genius but he has no sense of direction.

No, the more the merrier. Shall we?

And this exhibition has been put together

by our Student Rep, Rosalind. Good morning.

What am I looking at here?

You are staring directly at my vagina.

A picture of my vagina.

Ah. And these ones?

Also my vagina. Just closer up.

Right. I see.

Rosalind, these weren't in the original approved submissions.

A late addition.

Very... lifelike.

Shall we move on? Well, I like the detail in this one.

That would be my clitoris.

Do you know, I think we've seen enough art.

Let's move on. Lots to show you. This way.

As you can see,

some of our facilities need modernising

but with your investment...

Mr Hunter.

This is Edmund Maltravers, Claudette -

the man I was telling you about.

Nothing nasty, I hope.

When I was at Trinity, Dr Maltravers selected me to be the college Fool.

I was mocked, bullied and degraded for the amusement of the Dandelions.

It made you the man you are today.

Same old doctor.

I swore that when I was rich enough,

I would return and make your life a misery.

So, when the delightful warden

offered me the opportunity to invest, I thought 'Bring it on!'

So, get ready, Eddie.

I'm going to take away from you the thing you love most - Trinity!

Rather melodramatic.

You can't fire me, Crispin.

Mr Hunter will set up a fund

providing very lucrative grants to the Dons.

In order to qualify for them,

they will have to meet criteria and support measures

approved by the warden. And...

Mr Hunter.

The plan isn't to have you fired, dear boy.

It's to chase you down a rabbit hole until you quit of your own volition.

The Dandelions don't pick the college Fool, Crispin.

He picks himself.

You were a pathetic, grasping boy.

His meagre talent made all the more absurd by his inflated ambition.

It was laughable then, it is laughable now.

Ha, ha, ha.

Enjoy the last remaining days of Trinity as you know it.

What a wanker.

Maybe if he hates you so much,

it was Hunter who smashed the Link.

No, he doesn't know anything about it.

No, his vandalism is done with a chequebook.

Edmund, without the implant,

the project's stagnant - it's going nowhere.

And now we can't speak to the Americans.

I'm aware of that, Linus.

No, the problem with Crispin bloody Hunter is nothing to do with it.

His money will enable our beloved warden to buy control of the Dons.

Pretty soon, she'll come after the Dandelion Club again.

Crispin, I think we should talk honestly. You've seen the college.

I've shown you what your money could do.

But we both know why you're here.

Maltravers.

I want him out of my college so I can run this place my way.

Down to business. I like it.

Enough flirting - time for penetration!

We could draw up specifics over lunch.

Agreed. Claudette, let's do our best to set the wheels in motion

while I'm still here.

It's time for the winds of change

to sweep across these dusty cobblestones.

Ah, This is Dorian Gaudain. He's President of the Dandelion Club.

Sorry I'm late. You requested the tour. Step this way.

Oh. Women aren't permitted entry.

I know.

Then Brian gets the ball. Bosh, he's off. Straight out of the ruck,

gets past five people.

And he's goose stepping now and he's almost at the line

but I'm like a wolf, see.

Now, I'm not on all fours or anything

but I've been tracking my prey and he's about to score

when suddenly...

From nowhere... Bosh! I take him down!

It was a cracking game!

Get in!

Kiss my hairy Welsh crack and despair!

Listen, mate, this has been really interesting and quite detailed

but I've got to go. I've got this big girlfriend/parent thing.