- I didn't even feel it land.
About a hundred and sixty millimetre suspension travel.
20% sag.
- You're 20% sag.
- This one.
Someone's cut they don't have the sort of suspension specs
required for modern urban mobility.
- Yeah?
Well, you forgot one major spec.
- Oh yeah? What's that?
- That it's stolen.
You're a scumbag thief.
- Jealousy is but an ugly shade on you, Denise.
Pack us a bowl then.
What? You smoked it all?
- Oh, yeah, it was all me.
- Well, we'll have to get a re-up off Kane then.
- Well, isn't there anyone else?
- I'll just go. I'll be quick.
- What? By yourself?
Like, without me?
- What?
You can't last half an hour?
- It's just that it's a bit weird, no?
Like, what am I supposed to do?
Hang out here? Like, alone?
- Whatever.
- Did you square Kane up for the tic?
- I'm offended you even had to ask that.
- Well, it's just that he doesn't fuck around.
Remember when he scalped Hairline Hayden
for losing his bag of pingers?
- Ah, yeah.
- You didn't square him up, did you?
- Well, no.
But I'm still offended that you had to ask.
- Oh, fucking hell!
- You just looked the snake
right in his dead, little eyes,
and you just said,
"Please, sir, can I have some fuckin' more?"
Then you thank thy starry moon for thou crystal beans,
you beautiful little cunt.
And that's it.
- You here to square me up, brother?
- Square you up for what?
Ah, yeah, that.
Yeah, for sure, lad.
Just need a coup...
Oh, here we go.
Does anyone else smell cargo shorts?
Excuse me, sir.
This definitely not-a-fucking-cop
would love to buy some of your finest drugs.
- Oh, fuck off. I'm no copper.
- Oh.
- What are you after?
- Um...
A point would get me through, aye?
Just put a girl on tic, would ya?
- Why haven't you returned my calls?
I fuckin' missed you.
Hm?
- Get a life, Johnny.
You fuckwit.
- Thanks for keeping our streets safe, Cunstable.
You fuckin' mutt!
Maybe I could leave my new bike with you,
like collateral and that, you know?
- Nah, that's not gonna work for me.
- Right.
Well, what are my options then?
Like fiscally, you know?
- How attached are you to your two little thumbs there?
- Whoa, what? Just me?
What about her?
- What? Johnny!
You were the one that said it was your fuckin' shout.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I'm no good for it.
I mean, I'm never fuckin' good for it,
but I'm equally as fuckin' generous.
Hey mate, how's your weekend?
Yeah, fuckin' good, wasn't it?
- Well, is there anything we can do to like,
buy us more time?
- Funny you say that.
I got a job later today that a couple of heads
just bailed on.
Could use some capable hands like yourselves,
to assist with operations and that.
- We'll do it.
- Well, hang on.
- What's the job?
- A heist, nearby. Real low key.
Meet me at the dumpling joint in 20 and I'll fill you in.
- No, we're not gonna...
- And I'm holding you personally responsible,
seeing as you're the one pushing for more time.
- Makes sense.
- Mm.
- Well, we'll hear you out,
but we're not making any promises.
- It's basically a promise.
So now that we're colleagues and all,
could I get a little top up on tic, bruh?
- Hurry up, goose!
- I mean, all I'm saying is sure, put on a uniform,
at least make it obvious
that you're a fuckin' scumbag copper.
But to lie and deceive the hard-working public,
I mean, that's a fucking dog act.
I mean, I just wonder what sort of legacy
these undercovers are leaving, you know?
Like, what that must do to a family.
Cycles of abuse and all that shit-
- Can we change the subject?
- Actually, there is a subject I have in mind
to be broached.
- Broached isn't even a word.
And what are we supposed to be? Thieves for hire?
- Ah, yeah.
And you're up on a very high fuckin' horse
for someone with light fuckin' fingers.
- Well, I'm not signing up until I know who it is
that we're meant to be appropriating.
- What does that matter?
- Ah, I don't know.
What if he's a lunatic?
What if he's holed up somewhere,
and he's jerking off to the pictures
on the side of ciggy packets or some shit?
- Are you fuckin' all right?
- Time to go.
- We're not in yet.
We need to hear your pitch.
You know, official and that.
- It's easy.
Once you're inside, you'll find a duffel bag.
You grab it, and bounce the same way that you came in.
- What's in the bag?
- Does Gary from the Apple store
ask Fiona fuckin' Apple what's in the new iPhone?
No.
- And the mark. What's his deal?
- Time to go.
- Oh, fuck this.
It sounds like amateur night.
I'm out.
- You owe me.
- You know what?
You can fuckin' take my thumbs.
I don't even use 'em that much anyway.
- You want to talk some sense
into your girl here, brother?
I take what's owed.
- Come on, man.
You know how much I love playing FIFA.
What are you gonna do?
Just go home and hang out by yourself?
- Yeah, I just might.
- Ah!
The guy is unhinged, all right.
It's all real horror show.
But none of that shit matters,
because you two dickheads will be in and out
before he wakes up.
Debt paid.
- I want your bike.
Yeah, as payment.
- Fine, you fuckin' thief.
And I don't want the attitude!
- Well, unfortunately it comes with the fuckin' bike.
- Yeah, we don't have time
for these little soap operas, all right?
Fuckin' junkies.
Your reputation-
- Precedes me, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- You'll go in through the bathroom window
at the back of the house.
This is the only way in or out.
The rest of the house is barred and boarded up.
Just get the bag, brother.
Or the debt doubles.
- Like toes, brah?
- Uh huh. Chop, chop.
And don't go thinking about smoking
any of the shards that you find.
- Why?
Oh, yeah, I mean, of course not.
- Rumour is this one brother smoked it,
and wasn't seen again.
Then his boys found a picture of him
panning for gold in a textbook.
But I mean, probably bullshit, right?
How past cooked is the kick-on
if you're breaking out the textbooks?
- Yeah.
None of that sounds interesting to me at all.
- Ah...
Bingo.
- Do you have to do that now?
What if this dumb cunt wakes up?
- Well, gotta stay prolific, you know.
If a tree gets up in the woods and all that.
Oy, new tag.
- "Pack"?
- Yeah, because I pack the pipe so tight.
Oh, so you know Jazzo, yeah?
- Tall Jazzo?
- Yeah, so, he's a dog.
So him and Cakes were in China, right?
And they go to the Great Wall.
I mean, as one does when visiting the west.
And Jazzo's all like,
"This is the most famous wall in the whole fuckin' world.
I mean, it would be toy to get up on this shit.
So, you know, he pulls out a red spray can,
and just starts fuckin' getting up, because I mean,
say what you want about him,
but the cunt is fuckin' culturally sensitive.
- Are you fucking serious?
We've gotta move. Hurry up!
- But then the People's Litigation Army guys
started chasing 'em,
and they fuckin' ran Cakes down.
But you know, Jazzo, he's fuckin' mad spritely.
I mean, he scaled down
a broken part of the wall into Mongolia.
He hid out in yurts for a fuckin' month just eating goats
while Cakes rotted in the gulags, or whatever.
Fuck, it's so windy.
Oy!
Ah, fuck.
Ugh.
Oy, Dee!
Fucking calm down, all right?
Fuck!
- We're a long way from the Macca's toilets.
- Yeah.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
- What sort of lukewarm apricot yoghurt eating freak...
- Yeah, it's post-modern, aye.
- I don't know, man.
There must be like a thousand other bags full of gear
in the city that are easier to steal.
This all just feels a bit off.
Fuck it.
Give me a boost. Let's bail.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?
You don't trust Kane?
- No, I don't trust the drug dealer that scalps people,
and he's always looking at me weird.
I don't like it.
- That's just how he looks, lad.
"Get the bag, brother.
Or the debt fuckin' doubles, yeah?"
Come on, it'll be like the time we hit the donut place.
- And fittingly left with nothing.
- This time we'll be leaving
with these dumb little cunts, yeah?
- This feels like fairytales for cunts.
Pretty sure these weren't here before.
- Oh, probably just trapped animals or something.
- Human sized blood covered animals.
Fucking great.
Who sawed off what in here?
- I think we have some more pressing issues
than the mystery blood.
- What?
We're fucked!
I'm fucked!
This is what I get for babysitting.
You always do this.
- Oy, me? What did I fuckin' do?
- You fuck up! You always fuck up!
That should be your name, "Fuckup".
- How is this my fuckin' fault, huh?
- Because, Fuckup, you were the one
that agreed to take the job.
- Just stop fuckin' calling me a fuck up, all right?
- Yeah?
Well, the truth is, that you're not only a fuck up,
but also a dog.
- How fuckin' dare you!
Only a real undercover dog
would call their best mate a dog.
- Well, I know what you did.
I know your deep, dark secret.
- I know yours.
Hm? Hm?
Fuck this! Fuck it all!
Fuckin' do it yourself, fuckin' piece of shit.
Call me a fuckin' dog?
Pack '95.
Textbooks.
What do they say again?
Regrets are like a dead samurai's sheathed blade."
- No one says that, idiot.
- I thought I'd just do my due diligence
and test the fucking gear, yeah?
- Always a martyr.
- Well, I'm glad you can see my position.
- You know, if we get outta here,
I really just wish that you would fuck off
outta my life forever.
- I'm only in your fuckin' life as a favour.
I'm a lone fuckin' wolf.
- What a joke!
You literally follow me around every day.
- It's all very biblical, isn't it?
You know, packing a pipe and packing a punch.
Fuckin' society's coming at ya,
and I've got my fuckin' mitts up,
because that's the way it is, isn't it?
It's a fuckin' war on your fuckin' mind.
I mean, they're all just fuckin' dogs, aren't they?
Ruff, you know, ruff.
You know, fuckin' bit of that.
Fuckin' slithery little fuckin' snakes.
- Johnny?
What the fuck?
- Look, I'll pardon all the fuck ups
if you just come back right now!
Pardon fuckin' revoked.
- And now you're finally here!
Oh, his favourite day of the year.
Oh, I can tell you...
How this story ends...
It ends in blood.
- Johnny?
- Ah.
Ugh.
Yeah.
Pretty good shit.
- October 2nd.
Damo and Keithie drive truck cross country.
October 13th, shipment lands off the coast.
West Coast Syndicate ride jet skis out to collect.
July 25th, Netsy closes deal in Jakarta.
May 19th Netsy travels to Bali for first meeting...
What?
- Jimmy.
- What?
- Don't say what.
- But I don't have any homework.
- Bingo.
I met Malcolm Netson outside a nightclub
on the 20th of July, 1993.
Now, if took me just under three more months
to get any intro to the rest of them.
Ratbags and cohorts.
Whatever you want to call them.
- 1995.
Lone motherfuckin' wolf.
- Now, it's all hearsay.
Tampering, no.
Fuckin' no with the tampering, Your Honour.
I wouldn't even know how!
Okay?
Now, no, Your Honour.
Yes, Your Honour.
Three bags fuckin' full, Your Honour.
- Oh, yes.
Always know a head when I see one.
Who needs a fuckin' sidekick anyway?
Nice one, Johnny.
Another day, another fuckin' win, you fuckin' hero.
Fuck yes.
Just a little fuckin' kiss.
A fuckin' cop.
I can't escape these cunts.
I just attract dogs.
I'm a fuckin' dog whistle.
Yeah, look at you.
Why don't you just suck a fuckin' dog's dick, you know?
Yeah, nice one, Johnny.
Just walking your fuckin' little poodle-y boys,
and here comes the fuckin'-
- Well, well, well.
What do we have here?
Huh?
A sneaky little coke whore.
- I just-
- Just what?
Hm?
You one of the Reaper boys?
Did he send you to try and finish me off, aye?
- I don't know of, um...
Any Reapers.
- Yeah, I believe you.
You don't fuckin' have that outlaw look, do ya?
- Whatever.
Look, I was just about to bounce, all right?
So don't have a blowout, I know you're a cop and all.
- An undercover cop.
- Fucking, of course.
No, but seriously, I mean, I really respect you guys.
I mean, you're like real essential fillers
to the community and all that shit.
Fuck, you know. I can't fuckin' do it.
Nothing personal, but you guys are a real bunch
of fuckin' sneaky dog cunts, all right?
But I repeat, you know, like nothing fuckin' personal.
Yeah?
Oh, fuck, please.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I hate you,
it's just that we're like natural adversaries
and that, you know?
Sick cunts and fuckin' pig dogs.
I mean, it's just the way it's always fuckin' been, man.
Maybe I hate myself a little too.
- Can we maybe do this without the gun to my head?
- No, it's the fuckin' gun or nothing.
- Always a martyr.
- What the fuck?
- I guess I should like, give you some advice or something.
But we don't have time.
- I don't understand.
- You're just gonna have to trust me.
- What the fuck is going on?
- I'm gonna get us out of this.
Just keep the door shut,
and make sure he's not coming.
- I can't believe that dog cunt stitched me up like this.
I knew I shouldn't have listened to that scumbag fuck up.
Classic dog move.
Johnny always shitting the carpet
and leaving me with a bag to clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're talking about.
You're outta line, young lady.
You know, Johnny might be a fuck up,
but he was there when you needed someone.
- Wait. What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
- Fucking great.
- An amalgamation of all of your life's decisions
have brought you here.
Brought you to him.
Your life is nothing more than an equation.
Decisions over time,
finally producing a quantifiable result.
- Fucking maths.
- And then you just stop existing.
Tick fucking tock.
Out of time.
You just...
Disappear.
- Disappear?
That bitch took my pipe!
- "D . Trapped in '95.
Pack."
If you can't do the time, then don't do the fucking crime.
Dumb-ass.
- I can't think of the name.
- 2053.
- Fuck.
Fuckin' stuck here with an undercover cop.
They're always trying to nab
all city fuckin' legends like me
just for fuckin' gettin' up.
Gettin' up.
That's it.
Fuckin' gettin' up.
- What are you doin'?
Hm? You sneakin' about?
- Oh, no. I was...
I was just admiring this painting.
Is it a DiCaprio?
- I got a lot of pricks after me,
and I thought someone had broken in.
- Let's just go back to bed, eh?
- You trying to leave me?
- No.
I mean, unless you want me to.
- Everyone always tries to leave.
- Oh...
That's not good.
- I saw some crazy shit
when I was undercover that last time.
The group I was with,
they used to make young women play Russian Roulette
with their hand in a blender.
I mean, just for a gram of goey and a laugh.
And they was kinda like family to me.
But I knew it had to end,
so I brought the whole fuckin' lot of them down.
You know, get them before they could get me.
One step ahead.
- Well, I'm not going anywhere.
Like, ever.
- Good.
- Yeah.
Fuckin' hurry up, Denise.
- What was that?
- I was just saying, I think it might be a Matisse.
- Grab the blender from the kitchen
on your way back to bed, yeah?
- Fuck.
- He will be back soon.
I'm sure he'll be excited you're here.
And on his favourite day of the year, a day of love,
I wonder if he will steal your heart.
- What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What year is it?
- 2053.
- How'd I get here?
- A temporal narcotic.
- Where can I find more of it?
Where's all the rest of it?
- When I need to find something,
I think about where I last saw it.
- I had it...
Back in the present.
I reckon I'll be off then.
You know, before he gets back.
- I wouldn't go outside
without respiratory and skin protection.
- What?
- The current temperature is 51 degrees Celsius.
Radiation is over 100 millisieverts.
Riots continue, meaning chances of a violence incited injury
are above 20%.
- You're 20% chance of a violence incited injury.
- It's not safe for you out there.
- What do you want with all these bitches?
And most importantly, what do you want with this bitch?
How does all this time travel shit work?
How how'd I get here?
- The drug deconstructs you down,
and then rebuilds you back up again
in the time you most recently thought of.
Your consciousness and subconsciousness
create a quantum tunnel for you to travel through.
- Right, yeah.
Quantums and all that shit.
- Now I know you're the one
I've been searching for.
It's finally time.
- Time for what?
- Sedate!
- Initiating Carfentanil.
- Found you.
- ... you were the one that agreed
to take the job.
- I thought it was only polite to meet you back here,
after our little run-in in the future and all.
I didn't even know you back then.
- Fuckin' do it yourself.
- Weird.
- Fuckin' piece of shit.
- I usually don't tend to fuck with determinism,
but when the crystal brought you to me,
to my time, to my home,
that was the day that you freed me from my search.
So I traveled back and put myself in a position
for you to be indebted to me.
Not the hardest part of the plan, that bit.
- So you're here to kill me then?
- Oh, I don't wanna kill you.
I want the opposite.
I want you to live.
Live here in this house, forever.
- What?
Why?
- Because you're special.
- Wait.
What is that shit anyway?
- The crystal?
Just another psychotropic street drug.
Rumour is, it has a foundation of dimethyltryptamine,
engineered around 2050 in some legal-ish
pharma-bro bio-tech lab in Guatemala or some shit.
I knew this one brother from my time manufacturing.
Shanked the cunt, rolled him of his stash
before all the dogs came through to shut it down.
- What made you so cooked?
What a joke...
you literally follow me around every day.
- You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?
- Well, I mean, nothing personal or anything.
But yeah, you are a few nuggets short of a combo.
- That's Johnny, destined for the past.
I might pay him a visit, cut him open.
See what makes him tick.
My guess is just choccy milk and barbiturates.
- Don't.
Just leave the goose there.
He's not hurting anyone.
- Isn't he?
Not for you to worry about, is it?
Can't let your past dictate your future and all that.
Time to go to work, cunt.
Someone's here.
And they got the duffel bag.
Ooh.
Now be a good boy and fetch it for me.
- Fetch, boy.
- Johnny?
- What the fuck is going on?
- Just keep the door shut.
And make sure he's not coming.
- Can't believe that dog cunt stitched me up like this.
Johnny always shitting the carpet
and leaving me with a bag to clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're talking about.
You know, Johnny might be a fuck up,
but he was there when you needed someone.
- Wait.
What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
Johnny!
What the fuck are you wearing?
- What am I wearing?
I've been living here for fuckin' months.
The bird who lives here
is some ex-undercover dog cunt copper psychotic nut job
who consistently threatens my fuckin' life.
It's emasculatory.
And here you are worried about what I'm fuckin' wearing?
- Hold up!
I'm here to rescue you, aren't I?
I don't get a thank you?
No, "I'm sorry for leaving you
in the creepy nightmare house alone?"
I mean, what exactly is the problem here?
- That's the fuckin' problem.
- Who the fuck is this dumb slut, hm?
I got a fuckin' word of warning for you, yeah.
He is a top shelf fuckin' dropkick, but dead set,
he's my top shelf fuckin' dropkick.
- You're so young.
- What?
- So alive.
- Uh, what are you going on about?
- She's my mum.
- Look, I don't know what kind of fuckin'
sick game you're playing here, lady,
but you can't just fuckin' waltz into someone's home
and try and steal their fuckin' man.
Even if he is about as useful as a kindergarten
in the fuckin' Vatican.
Aren't ya? Aren't ya?
- Well, I mean, you know, maybe she's not your mum.
You know, my mate Wayno thought his mum was his grandmother.
Turns out like, she was just mad old,
so his sister had to breastfeed him and shit.
- She's my fuckin' mum, all right?
- Well, I mean, you don't seem very fuckin' happy
to see her now, do you?
- Yeah, well, it's not my fault that she like,
started a fight with me, and then, like, died.
Is it?
- You know, if you'd just come here in February
like I fuckin' told you to,
we wouldn't have to deal with
all this fuckin' intergenerational bullshit, would we?
- Well, your stupid message didn't exactly go the distance.
Another successful Johnny scheme.
Two severed thumbs up, genius.
- I went the distance with your mum.
- Watch your fuckin' mouth.
- I'll fuckin' watch my mouth, all right?
- Wait.
If it's November '95, then that thing in there...
Is me.
And that...
That makes you my dad.
- Hang on, what the fuck is happening here?
Huh?
- What's happening is that me,
and this literal mother fucker,
are walking outside this dump,
and going back to where we came from,
and we'll never discuss this shit again.
- Yeah, like fuck you are.
This fuckin' loser?
You fuckin' come in here, you fuckin' knock me up,
and then get off scot-free?
I don't fuckin' think so.
You fuckin' owe me.
- Oh, you wanna weigh in here, Dad?
- Well, I mean, I can't have a daughter
who's a fuck up like you.
I mean, it doesn't make any sense.
You don't have any of my spirited charm or ambition.
- Well, you know what, dickhead?
You can fuckin' stay here then.
Yeah, I knew that I shouldn't come back for you.
- Fuckin' hang on, fuckin' hang on.
Are you saying fuckin' February 14th, 2022?
You have been going on about that date
ever since you got here.
So what, you're saying all that...
All that fuckin' rubbish about...
Ah!
Are you saying that that is fuckin' true?
- You don't need to worry about any of that.
You just need to stay here, and pop that thing out,
and don't go fuckin' anywhere.
Like you're grounded.
Yeah, you love groundings, as I seem to remember.
- Hang on a second.
If this tuckies your mom,
then that means you've got cop blood.
Oh, Denise.
No wonder you put me on the dog.
I cannot be involved with a cop family.
I mean, I've got a reputation to think of.
- And it's because of that selfish fuckin' attitude
that I grew up without a dad.
I should've known you'd be the kind of loser absent father
who would go out for some smokes,
and leave me and my mom to fend for ourselves.
- What are you talking about?
I pretty much did raise you.
I mean, you've got no idea the amount of brain space
I could like, free up,
if I wasn't storing knowledge for you.
- I know your secret.
- Oh, yeah?
What fuckin' secret?
- I know that that whole
Jazzo in Mongolia story is bullshit.
And I know why you went around telling everyone he's a dog.
The real story is that you got picked up
graffing by an undercover,
and you snitched on Jazzo.
Just like the-
- Don't fuckin' say it.
- Dog that you are.
- You want to talk about secrets, Denise?
I mean, baggy jumpers only work for so long, man.
We all know you popped out Danny Handjob's kid last year.
I mean, it's in his fuckin' name, Denise.
You don't have to fuck him.
What the fuck!
Fuckin'...
- Fuck!
- You two wanna fuck around and play games?
Fuckin' be my guest, yeah.
I need a fresh bloody start,
and I'm fuckin' sick of looking over my shoulder,
and I am fuckin' especially sick of cohabitation with you,
you fuckin' dickhead!
Fuckin' bingo.
Oh.
- No!
- What a scumbag thief, aye?
Like mother, like daughter, I guess.
Cup of tea?
- We need to get her back.
Think.
- We live here now.
Best not to go on about it too much.
- But if she gives birth to me in a different time,
then who is giving birth to me now?
I'll cease to exist.
- I can't help but feel partly to blame.
- Well, we can't worry about that now.
We need to get her back, before she like...
Births me.
- But when is she?
- I know when.
I heard her scream.
- What's happening, losers?
- Oh, you know, not much,
just been banging Denise's mom.
- Ha, just the usual then.
Denise?
You got something that's mine?
Where's my gear?
Oh.
Don't go all idiot on me again, Johnny.
I mean, I know that's really asking something.
- Well, it's just that...
You know, I've got a family to support now,
so the way I see it is, finders fuckin' keepers, aye?
- You don't have to do this, Johnny.
- Yeah, I probably should though.
- It's a bit late for the whole Mr. Responsibility act.
I mean, you did ruin my fuckin' life.
- I barely know you, bro.
- Grow up, fuckhead.
- Leave him alone!
- I didn't think...
You had that in you, brother.
- I guess we should like, kill him or something?
- All right, let's fucking do this.
- Don't do it.
Drop the knife.
- Don't listen to her, Johnny.
She's tried to screw me over before.
- Now slowly go over and check Kane for more vials.
Take one, give the rest to me.
And you stay where you fuckin' are.
And give that one to her.
- What the fuck is going on?
- I wish I could tell you,
but you're not ready for what needs to be done.
- Well you're not much fuckin' help, are ya?
- Well, if you expect better from me,
then change better, bitch!
It's time for you to go get our mum.
- What about Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to fuckin' stare?
- Oh, it's coming!
- You're hitting this god damn bowl
and going back to where you came from.
- No, I'm not! I won't go back!
- Fucking hell, Mum!
You're stubborn as bloody Johnny!
- I can't go back!
- Why?
- Because it's not a real life!
Johnny's gonna fuckin' leave me!
I am paranoid them Reapers are gonna come knocking
every fuckin' day.
And I didn't even want a kid,
but now that I don't have a choice,
I want it to have a life that it doesn't just waste away!
I mean, my baby could grow up here, right?
Fuckin', it's shit, it is shit,
but it's fuckin' all right.
- This place is a fucking shithole.
The whole world in this time is a fucking shithole.
- Yeah, but it's a shithole where I'm free.
'Cause I can't fuckin' take it anymore.
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, all right?
I'm sorry for all the years of hell
that I'm gonna put you through.
And I'm really sorry about your boyfriend Flaco
that I like, banged this one time.
- Flaco's a fucking shit name!
- And I'm mostly sorry for my part that I play
in the fight that we have.
But if you don't smoke this and go back,
then she'll never get the chance to try and be better.
Do the right thing by the kid, you reckon?
Okay.
- Just be patient with her.
She can be kind of useless at times.
- Yeah, well, she probably gets that from her father,
because he's a fucking dickhead!
I mean, what kind of idiot is watching
Saturday morning fuckin' cartoons!
- Kane?
- I was...
- You were the one in here holding the bag for younger Kane
this whole time.
- We all owe our past just one more chance.
That crazy bitch shot me.
She always did have a proclivity to overreact.
- Proclivity's not a...
You knew her?
- And you, briefly, when you were little.
Nothing but regrets, this stuff.
- Sounds like a bit of a one-way street with your past.
Can't all just be favours, can it?
I mean, when does it end?
- Everything ends, love.
Tick fucking tock.
- You once said that you shouldn't let our past
control our future.
- Maybe once upon a time I had a point.
My life would be so much easier if you just didn't exist.
- Wait.
Why'd you say that?
This feels like fairytales for cunts.
- No more regrets.
Tick fucking tock.
Fucking hell!
Just hook a girl up with one shard, fucking hell!
Stupid thing!
I think it's time to start having
some hard talks with yourself, Denise.
For starters, I'm thinking you might have a drug problem.
- Didn't know you had that in you, brother.
- I guess we should we like,
kill him or something?
- All right, let's fucking do this!
- Don't do it!
Drop the knife.
Now slowly go over and check Kane for more vials.
And you stay where you fuckin' are.
- What the fuck is going on?
- Well if you expect better from me,
then change better, bitch.
Now it's time for you to go get our mum.
- What about Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to fucking stare?
- So you're like my kid,
and you've been looking for me.
That's what all those photos of the other women were.
People you thought might've been your mum?
Well, if I give you one of these, will you let us go?
Will you let Johnny live?
- Time could end and I'd keep hunting that prick down.
- I don't need a fuckin' sympathy pardon.
I don't see what the problem is.
Just shoot the cunt, right in the fuckin' temple!
- I can't do that.
- Why not?
He literally just said he's gonna hunt me down.
- Here, I'll fuckin' do it.
- I know he's not making a great case for himself,
but it's not his fault, you know?
Me leaving you.
- No, it fucking was.
- You know, back when I was a teenager,
I always used to rack the nangs from the kitchen
to get high.
- Yeah, fuckin' sick.
- Yeah.
They're like the little nitrous canisters
that you chuck in the whipped cream.
- Yeah, I know what fuckin' nangs are.
- Yeah.
My mom used to put whipped cream
on her low expresso martinis,
and one day she really lost it.
She came storming into my room screaming at me
for stealing all the nangs.
Now...
I was fairly cooked,
so I might have laughed a little too hard.
- Is there a point to all of this?
- Yeah.
She said...
"My life would be so much easier if you didn't exist."
And then she left.
You know, but I wasn't the one that stopped existing.
She was.
Some old gang member she put away,
saw her at the shops, killed her.
Buying more nangs killed her.
I killed her.
Your life was better with me not existing in it.
- How do you know?
You didn't even try.
But you can try now, you have to.
- If you want a mom, then why the fuck
are you trying to lock me up?
- Because we will finally be a family.
- That's now how family works, dickhead.
I mean, how's the emotional intelligence on this cunt, D?
- Fucking shut up, Johnny!
He's right.
That's not a family.
- Yeah, well, I wouldn't fucking know, would I?
You gave me away to spend your life
fucking around with this dumb junkie cunt.
And that decision left me with nothing.
With no one.
You left me on the steps of a church
with just a teddy bear
like it was a fucking Christmas movie.
Now, make it right and shoot this mutt!
- Wait, Denise, come on, lad.
You're really not gonna choose him over me, yeah?
You've gotta get outta here.
Go someplace I don't know where you are.
This is goodbye, Johnny.
- No, fuck that, I'm not going.
- When you found me crying
on the floor of the Macca's toilets,
you took me under your wing.
You saved me.
Now let me save you.
- You could've saved me by capping that deadshit.
- Mum.
I'm sorry.
I just...
I looked for you for so long.
And the more I looked,
the more Valentine's Days I was alone.
The old man version of me rambled on so much
it was hard to decipher what was real
and what was just rubbish.
But he told me that you left me here
with no crystal for 30 plus fuckin' years.
I didn't believe him.
I couldn't believe that you would do that.
But he insisted.
- No.
Fuck that.
Only if I get to go home, yeah?
- You owe me!
If you won't open this door...
Then how about I go into that other room there
and put a bullet in your mum's head?
- Fine, I'll tell you the truth.
I don't want you in my life.
I meant it when I said that you were a fuck up and a dog.
That's why I think it's best that you just fuck off.
Go on, get!
- Fuckin' bullshit.
- No one wants a fucking snitch like you in their life.
- The graff scene is all just toys there now, anyway.
You can forget about having my fuckin' bike, yeah?
- No!
I just wanted to make things right.
- Don't do it.
Don't fuckin' run away again.
- I'm not.
- Can't think of a name.
- Denise, sounds appropriately annoying.
- Hey...
How are you with coffee based cocktails?
'Cause I could really, I could use a drink.
I mean, if you could sort that out,
I could stitch up that little gut scratch you got.
- I'll make myself at home.
- Gonna have to fuckin' move house again.
- I meant it when I said
that I'm not running anymore.
- You'll stay here? With me?
- Um...
Well, ideally, no.
But I did have an idea to broach.
Where can I take you to get you fixed up?
- Not where, when.
- I'm taking the chance that you've grown a bit.
- A few decades will do that to you.
- Oh, probably just trapped animals or something.
- What about your past self?
- Human sized blood covered animals.
Fucking great.
- Maybe she's got some growing up to do too.
- No one ever tell you that it's rude to fucking stare?
- "Get the bag, brother."
- "Dearest Denise.
I'm not going to lie.
It's taken me a minute to write this.
I won't tell you where I am, but after I arrived here,
I was confronted by the family that owned the house.
Thankfully, the patriarch was a veterinarian
and was able to yank the slug from my gut.
Real G shit.
Things are pretty cool here.
I ended up wifing the old man's daughter,
so I inherited the joint.
I'm like a clerk or something, I don't know.
Cunts can barely even write, so I'm like a genius.
Well, considered around average, at least.
Pretty heavy that Kane's your kid.
Still can't believe you fucked Danny Handjobs though.
Classic.
I hope things worked out with Kane.
He needs all the help he can get
after I defeated him in combat so badly.
On that note, I'm leaving the deeds to the house and land
in a trust for him when he comes of age.
I feel like I owe the young fella for the tic,
and I thought this is what you would've wanted.
My lawyer seems to think this kind of practise
is highly unorthodox,
given that Kane won't be born for another 130 plus years.
I told him, "I don't need the sermon, brother.
Just work out the particulars, cunt."
He's got those fuck off mutton chop sideburns.
Anyways, fuck him and what he thinks.
Lawyers are all dogs anyways.
Not as bad as undercover cops and parking inspectors,
but still.
Anyways, here's where I broach the serious stuff.
I understand now why you sent me away.
It took me a while to figure out what you meant
by making things right.
What I'm trying to say is,
this is my way of trying to make things right with us.
Since I've been here, I've had these dreams.
You know, those kinda dreams you have
when you first get clean.
Real fuckin' vivid, but all over the shop.
Like, lizards in top hats kinda shit.
Anyways, in this one dream, we were both these lone wolves,
but like, not alone, because there were two of us,
like a group of wolves.
There should be a word to describe that or something.
Anyways, I realised,
it doesn't matter that we're not hanging out anymore.
Because time or no time, I'm like, a part of you.
I mean, think about it.
You come from my balls, man.
This is the kind of philosophical shit
I have time to sit around and think about now.
We're definitely a long way from the Macca's toilets.
Keep it real, lad.
One love.
Pack."