Fresh Meat

D'you think he's got servants in Cornwall?

Dunno. Probably a few retainers, couple of scullery maids.

The odd butler, footman. Basic set-up.

Gardener. That might be nice. Bit of Mellors action.

What?

Up against a tree.

Never mind. This is going to be so good for us.

And a change of scene can really enhance concentration.

We'll get so much work done.

Howard's on the phone to BT. Says he'll get the train.

What about Kingsley? He's not coming.

Heather and Kingsley spending some "quality time" together.

Ugh!

From Pussyman to Pussywitch. I know - probably for the best.

Last thing we want is a couple on Freakout.

Thought you said it was a study weekend.

Yeah, well, it's both.

We'll study from 9-1, then party like fuck,

then study from 3-6 then party like fuck again.

It is good to vary the schedule.

Look - who knows what'll happen?

We might all end up getting so drunk that we have an orgy. For example.

I don't think so.

No.

No. We won't.

Look.

You can have a think about it.

We don't need to decide now.

Drive on! Oh, and fuck the satnav.

It's just straight down the motorway and turn right at Bath.

You could still go.

I don't want to. I'm fine.

Kings...

Yeah, well, look, they've gone now. It's broken.

But I said you should go.

Clearly a test.

Kingsley, honestly - you should've just gone.

I've got shitloads of work anyway.

You're only trying to make me feel sorry for you.

What!?

I should be able to go away for a weekend and it's not a massive deal.

And you can!

How come I'm sitting here then? I don't know! Why are you?

Because I feel guilty! Which is unfair on me because

it's just a couple of days away with my mates

and you give me a hard time about it!

I'm saying go, I don't mind!

Have a shoebox full of fun. Freakout.

You mean, you actuallydon'tmind?

Kingsley? Go to Cornwall.

Because it should be obvious from talking to me that

if I can't fix this problem, it probably requires

the highest level of diagnostic troubleshooter you have.

I wangled a party visa. I'll see you down there, dude.

Look.

At this very minute I should be in Cornwall enjoying a freakout.

Now, are you going to pass me on to an expert or not?

You moron.

'Will you hold please while I transfer you?'

Yes, I'll hold.

Listen to this.

"Perstel, of the stiff staff, per stern hip be gripped."

What the fuck?

It's Middle English.

You're telling me.

Wasn't that like a language session or something?

I thought that was for foreign students.

No-one ever said there was more than one English!

Argh!

I don't mind talking to you.

I just know the shape of your customer service decision tree.

And you're not going to be able to fix this. But.

Prem Oppo 65 from Seattle might have a chance, but you,

reading out pages from a woefully outdated operating manual, WILL NOT!

'Will you hold, please?'

Yes, I'll hold.

Bit late.

Vod, can you check it for me?

It's Twitter. Someone's "mentioned" you.

Oh!

You OK?

Yeah. Stuff on my mind.

Like what?

Oh, nothing.

Dave's wedding. Yeah, this weekend, actually.

What?

I'm totally fine with it.

This girl called Lucy. Really lovely girl. Friend of ours from school.

Whole village'll be there. Fucking nightmare.

Watching Dave.

Marry Lucy.

In my church.

That I was meant to be getting married in.

They're basically having my wedding.

Settling down. With a family.

Sense of security. Local community.

Urgh, well, nightmare.

I'm very relaxed about the whole situation.

Where is everyone?

Hmm? Cornwall.

I see.

You not invited?

I'm going soon.

I'm on hold.

It's been 12 hours.

37 minutes. And counting.

Just to inform you, I'm expecting a visitor.

Just a fuck buddy from back home.

It is the correct term, "fuck buddy"?

I believe so.

He's a man. We fuck.

Nothing more serious.

A buddy for fucking?

You're determined. That's nice.

Thanks!

Welcome to my house, my very big house, in the country.

We're gonna smoke our heads off and drink our feet off.

Fuck me!

Exactly.

There's no food.

There's no water.

Blimey. OK, er, water, water.

Water switch.

Where's your boiler? Your water mains?

Where's my boiler? Best way with this place is just to Google it.

"How do I switch on the water in my very big house?"

My god.

I think I just found my dad. By the old Defender.

My dad's on Google Earth!

My dad is still alive on Google Earth.

I know they're using my wedding day and my church and everything,

but it would've been nice to be involved, you know?

You're very popular all of a sudden.

No, I'm not. Lipsgate. It's trending.

They think I shut down Derek's gay and lesbian magazine.

That's cool. You see? Here I am, in Devon...

Cornwall.

With someone whose poetry magazine is trending on Twitter.

"Who the fuck does that gay-hating slut think she is? Hope she dies."

Yeah, sure, it's a bit harsh,

but it's still to do with your poetry magazine. Yes?

That's what my friends are doing.

No-one in South Wales does poetry.

Apart from Dylan Thomas.

What up, K-dawg? You came!

Knotsford! Knotsford! Knotsford!

If it wasn't for Kingsley, I'd probably still be getting married.

Aye-aye-aye?

S'up, lad? What happened to Wifie?

Nothing. I came.

17 short hours on a coach next to juddering crackhound and here I am.

He left his bitch, to suck, as he came, to fuck!

The Pussyman is in da house!

Maybe you should just hang up. You're missing a weekend away.

I willneverhang up.

I know you can hear me. I said, "never"!

We're having a serious study sesh. Come on, we need caffeine.

Hey, you know what'd be brilliant?

Driving to Wales and gatecrashing Dave's wedding.

Not sure Dave'll love it.

He will! It'd be a laugh.

I just think we're all pretty drunk, and too drunk to drive.

Not in Devon.

Cornwall.

Cornwall!

I meant Cornwall. Cornwall, Cornwall, Cornwall.

Who you texting?

Just bloody Heather, checking up on me.

Gardener.

Hates me.

Why?

Because I shot her dad.

You what?!

Ugh, it's no biggie. He was like, a beater on one of our shoots

and I accidentally shot him. End of.

Was he OK?

Yeah. Well, I mean, he did die, but like a couple of years later.

Had an operation and the organ didn't take, or something.

You can hardly lay the blame for that at my door.

Josie, who's Mike?

Dunno. Which Mike is it?

Is it Sexy Mike?

It just says, "Mike's here keeping me company"? Who's the other Mike?

There's Sexy Mike, and there's Mike With A Big Dick.

She's probably just studying.

Why do you think she was so happy for you to go away?

Maybe she wanted to get some work done.

Yeah, get some work done on Sexy Mike's big dick!

No, you're mixing them up.

Sexy Mike might not even have a big dick.

He might be, say, very handsome or have great arms.

Is that meant to be helping?!

Ask her. If she says, "We're just mates", that's woman-speak

for, "Whilst my boyfriend's away,

"we're going to be fucking each other's brains out."

Oh, Josie, what the fuck are you doing?

I'm just going to Wales - I'll see you later.

Josie, you're too drunk to drunk-drive. That's quite drunk.

Bollocks! I'm sober enough to drunk-drive. I just tripped.

Jonathan?