30 seconds and counting.
Power transfer is complete.
We're on internal power
with the launch vehicle at this time.
T minus 20 seconds and counting.
All the second-stage tanks
now pressurised.
T minus 15 seconds.
Guidance is internal.
12, 11, 10, 9...
Ignition sequence starts.
6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,
zero. All engines running.
Lift off! We have a lift off.
And so in 1972,
the Atlas Centaur rocket
blasted off from our planet,
a 4-stage rocket
that launched a probe
way out into the blackness of space.
The probe would use
the energy from the sun
and the gravitational pull
of our neighbouring planets
to cross our solar system.
That momentum would then carry it on
into the farthest reaches
of the universe.
The mission, to find intelligent life
similar to ours
out there in deep space.
The probe carried a tablet
which had inscribed on it
the image of us humans,
a man and a woman,
and a map to locate us in the universe.
Stage 4 disconnects and our probe
is fired on its long journey.
The world wished it bon voyage
and may it find a friend out there
in deep space.
Thank you so much. Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you.
Hey! Thank you very much. Thank you.
Thank you, nice to see you.
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.
When I interviewed Neil Clarke
for The Book Programme,
I knew he was extraordinary.
Now, with the publication
of his brilliant novel,
reviewers agree he's joined the ranks
of Britain's immortals.
Ladies and gentlemen, Neil Clarke.
Um, so I suppose I wanted to start off
by asking you
how did you manage such amazing
insight into the soul of modern man
and how do you know
what men and women really want,
just really the whole relationship
between humanity and the cosmos?
Yeah, well, I think
I probably achieved that
by looking into my own soul, Catherine.
Um, I studied its flaws,
its potential, its urgent needs.
I listened to its cries for help...
...and its yelps of anguish
and, um, I...
I spent 5 long years
in a book which I hoped would throw open
the doors of human perception
and allow us to be engulfed
in a sense of our own futility.
Sorry about this, it's...
Get off! Down!
Ah!
Oh, God.
Go watch TV.
Your dog is barking.
My dog was barking
because you rang the doorbell.
I rang the doorbell
because your dog was barking.
Your lease says no pets.
Well, he is a guide dog.
You're not blind.
I prefer the term
"optically challenged".
You're not optically challenged, either.
Fiona, you live, like, 3 floors up.
I mean, I don't...
If you don't control your bloody dog,
I am going to get it sent
to Battersea Dogs Home. Right?
- Hmm?
- All right.
Come on, Dennis,
let's go and evacuate your bowels.
Come on, Dennis.
Come on.
- Hi, Neil.
- Hi, Catherine.
Hey, it's funny,
I was just dreaming about you.
Really?
Yeah, you were presenting me
with an award for my novel.
Oh, did you deserve it?
Well, I was proud but humble.
Have you finished it,
actually, in real life?
Absolutely, almost, yeah.
Cos last spring you were on chapter...
Yeah, I've renumbered them.
In fact, I've removed them.
- Oh.
- Yeah.
I find the whole concept of chapters
just gets in the way so...
Yeah. Yeah, no, I can see that.
I want reading it to be like being
sucked into a giant vortex, you know.
- Like going on Facebook.
- Like Facebook, yeah.
That's a good one.
"Like being sucked into a giant vortex."
Dennis, why do you let me
say things like this, hey?
Come on.
Hmm. Mmm?
Ah.
- Come on, Ray. It's only 20 quid.
- No, I can't, Neil.
- Yeah, but it can't lose.
- No.
Look, I guarantee you
a 50% return on your money
before the end of classes today.
So when do you make your move on
Miss Booker Prize downstairs, then?
Oh, I don't. Turns out she's a bit
literal-minded, no foresight.
Whereas me,
I can see for miles into the future.
A man needs a woman, Neil.
- I've got Dennis.
- Dennis is male.
And he's a dog,
in case you hadn't noticed.
Yeah, well, I don't want
to complicate my life.
This is a tenner!
Walk!
Accessing representative
images of earthlings.
Communication will be carried on in
the language of the species to be judged.
I'm sorry, I'm not understanding.
Ah.
- Is that better, Kylie?
- Understanding you now, Sharon.
By the power invested in me by the
Intergalactic Council of Superior Species,
I hereby pronounce
a destruction order on the planet Earth.
With great respect, Sharon,
we should not pronounce a destruction order
before we've given these earthlings
a chance to prove themselves.
They've penetrated
intergalactic space.
Maureen is right.
They're clearly not a superior species.
Look at the way they copulate.
If these earthlings
can convince us that they are superior
beings, then they may join our society.
If they cannot, we must eliminate them,
for the moral well-being of the entire
Intergalactic Community.
Thank you for explaining it
to me, Sharon.
Not at all, Miss Barker.
No, Grant, I don't want to talk to you.
No, I don't want to see you, either.
We had a great time
last summer but it's over.
What part of over do you not understand?
Thank you for calling. Goodbye.
These questions of yours
make it sound as if I thought
this bloody author
can string two words together.
But he can. It's a wonderful book.
Darling, didn't you read the memo?
We're doing a demolition job.
But it's the best thing he's ever written.
Everyone says so.
That's why we have to pee on it
from a great height.
I want 10 new questions,
please, before noon.
Don't you know? She never reads
the books. She hates books.
Why is she presenting
a book programme, then?
I spy trouble. Just...
Look, Catherine,
you may despise her ego,
but that's what people tune in to see.
Not books, not authors, God forbid,
but Fenella's rampant, pulsating,
sexually arousing ego.
No, I think people watch because
it's a book programme and they love books.
Books are finished.
Our job is to provide scandal, gossip
and character assassination,
with a thin veneer
of literary respectability.
Oh, so we're not just selling out, then?
We've sold out?
Exactly.
For God's sake, smile.
It's enough to make you weep, isn't it?
What?
The price of pickles. Don't even
look at the marinated herring.
Honestly, you'd be suicidal.
I didn't want them, anyway.
Thanks.
Um, I also offer support and counselling
on dips, dried fruit and pasta sauces.
She's gone.
- The usual test, Sharon?
- The usual test, Kylie.
One earthling will be chosen randomly,
as defined by the Intergalactic
Manual of Good and Evil.
Page 56, paragraph B.
Uh, page 56, paragraph D.
Uh, right.
To prove that they understand
the difference between good and evil.
How will they prove it?
They will be given the power
that all superior beings have.
The earthling will be capable
of doing absolutely anything.
What if he uses his power for evil?
The Earth will be eliminated.
But if he uses it for good?
Then we welcome them
to the Intergalactic Community.
Are we ready, gentlemen?
Commencing random
selection of earthlings.
Processing...
Processing...
Earthling.
Jolly good!
Wait!
Selected.
The earthling has ten days to prove
he can use absolute power for good
rather than for evil.
God.
Fuck you!
All they want me to do is help them
sneer at people who write wonderful books.
Well, my producer just wants me
to dig up dirt on Amenhotep III.
I keep telling them he had a kind nature
and lovely hands.
I would have loved to spend
an evening with Amenhotep III.
Yeah, except he's been dead
4,000 years, Rosie,
and he'd spend all day long
talking about embalming.
Well, find me a good one
that's still breathing.
Tell me about it.
What about Grant?
Oh, well, Colonel Grant
turned out to have issues.
- Issues?
- Yeah, like being clinically insane.
Shame.
Maybe that's overstating it.
Uh, just obsessive, possessive
and pathologically jealous.
What about him upstairs?
Oh, he tried to cheer me up
in the supermarket.
Oh, so he's gay?
What?
Well, he's sympathetic,
interested, available.
- That's the way life works.
- No, he's not gay.
He's... very likeable.
Mr. Clarke.
Hi.
This is the 12th time
you've been late this month, Mr. Clarke.
Yeah, I got knocked off my bike.
Yesterday you had food poisoning.
Friday you thought it was Saturday.
Monday you forgot
to put your clock forward.
Oh, everybody does that.
Week last Wednesday it seems you had
an appointment with the Dalai Lama.
Yeah, I showed you the picture.
That had Michael Jackson in it as well.
Well, he's a great man.
Great enough to appear in photographs
when he's dead.
You, Mr. Clarke,
are totally irresponsible,
you are idle and you are feckless.
Feckless?
Yes, you are without feck.
If I could replace you, I would.
Yeah, well, so would I.
I just don't have anybody
to replace me with.
You a big skier?
Well, I've had my moments.
Hello, gorgeous.
How about cocktails for two
this evening? Go halves?
Drop dead, Ray.
All right. Think about it
and get back to me.
Knob.
- Neil?
- Yeah.
If you could do anything,
what would you do?
Hello, Neil, love.
Tinned mouse or fricassee of war victim?
I will have the roast headmaster,
please, Mrs. B.
You are a one.
- There you go.
- Thank you.
Uh, I'll have the casserole,
please, Mrs. B.
You'll enjoy that, Mr. Ray.
As long as you don't eat it.
No, I mean, if you could
make anything you want happen,
what would it be?
I would make Dennis regurgitate
my notes from chapter 3.
If you could make
something impossible happen.
Intact.
What if you could make someone
worship the ground you walked on?
What, even if she thought
you were a little shit?
Come on, Ray.
That would be taking an unfair advantage
of an innocent girl.
Okay, but suppose
there was one thing you could do
that would change your life
for the better?
Oh, that's easy. I would make
alien spaceships destroy 10C.
That sounded like it was in the school.
Out of the way! Out of the way!
Stand back, stand back.
Stand back, stand back.
Now, just stay calm.
Oh, my God!
Who was that?
It was the Salubrious Gat
of Galaxy G946 WOT.
Gat, what do you think you're doing?
Just practising, Sharon.
We haven't done the judicial review yet.
We may not want to destroy this species.
Who are you kidding?
445,349,722 new alien
species encountered.
Number granted membership
of the Intergalactic Community
of Superior Beings?
Zero.
We have high standards.
You know you're going to wipe them out.
It all depends on the earthling.
And signs of a recovery
seem as far away as ever.
Hey.
Hello, Dennis.
Oh, Dennis. Couldn't you have waited?
We can now go live
to our reporter Brenda Emmanus
at the scene of the incident.
It was here
at Kinbrook Comprehensive School
that an explosion killed 38 pupils.
A police spokesman said they
could not rule out a terrorist attack
but say there were no connections
with reports
of a UFO sighting in the area.
The head teacher, Mr Robert...
Oh, sure, Dennis,
it was an alien spaceship.
What are you talking about?
If I could make an alien
spaceship destroy 10C,
then I wouldn't be farting around
with this, would I?
I'd just say,
"Dog mess, clean yourself up."
See?
It's just shock.
It's just post-hallucination shock.
That's all it is.
I mean, it couldn't have been
an alien spaceship, Dennis, could it?
I mean, it just, I mean, it couldn't have.
Oh, my God.
That's my notes.
Ah, damn it!
Whisky, go back in the bottle.
See? You see? There's nothing.
It's nothing.
There was nothing. It's nothing.
Whisky, go back in the bottle.
Oh, my God.
I have to wave my hand.
Whisky, exchange yourself
for another bottle, a single malt.
Hey, come back!
Door, open quick.
Not that quick.
I didn't mean go back to the shop
to get exchanged!
It's closed.
Oh, shit.
- Gotcha!
- Help me, Dennis!
- Priority.
- Help me!
Shh, Dennis, be quiet.
Oh, shit.
All right, laddie. You're nicked.
Me be at home having dinner with Dennis.
Oh, yuck! Chumzy!
You say one word about this, Constable,
you'll be on community relations.
Oh, my God. 10C!
Uh, let everyone
who died be alive again.
Oh, God.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no.
No, I meant everybody in 10C be alive again!
Obviously. Not everyone who's died ever.
Are you crazy?
Shit. Shit.
And everybody who died in
the bomb blast that is alive again,
be completely uninjured.
Oh, shit, shit, shit!
Uh, okay, me feel better.
Oh, that's better.
Me have a really good idea
about what to do next.
Oh, that's a good idea.
Um, let the explosion
never have happened.
No, I mean, if you could make
anything you wanted happen,
what would it be?
I'm sorry, what?
If you could do anything,
what would you do?
That's very weird.
I think I just dreamt that I could.
What?
Do anything. I dreamt that I could just wave
my hand and say such-and-such
and it would happen.
So what did you do?
I made alien spaceships destroy 10C.
Good thinking.
I would make Dorothy Pringle
worship the ground I walked on.
You wouldn't be so cruel.
Hello and welcome to Book News,
the show where you get to know
what books are coming to you
and authors get what's coming to them.
What's the truth
under publishers' blurbs?
Why do writers' photographs always
show them looking ten years younger?
You've come to the right place
to find out.
Our first guest tonight
is Mortimer Stanley,
whose latest novel is entitled
What You See With Your Eyes Open.
Mortimer, your last novel
was published nearly 10 years ago.
It got what they call "mixed reviews"
and sold fewer than 3,000 copies.
What possessed you to write another one?
Well, my wife was dying.
You were estranged, weren't you?
Well, yes, but on her deathbed,
she urged me to write another book.
Knowing that she would never
have to read it?
Well...
Fenella's complaining that you didn't
tell her about his shoplifting conviction.
Well, he was 14, James.
It's got nothing to do with his book.
Well, neither has the show, Cath.
Listen, what upsets Fenella about you
is your integrity.
But me, I quite like it.
Play your cards right,
you could get your own office
with a bigger desk and a view.
Um...
Sorry. Excuse me one second.
Mind you, you've gotta play
your cards right.
What the hell are you doing here?
- Don't I get a kiss?
- Please go away.
That wouldn't be fair to you, Cath.
This is a wonderful opportunity
for you to get to know the real me.
Well... I'm calling security.
No, not just the charming,
high-flying military strategist.
Hello, security?
Not the inventor of extreme
rendition, either.
Yes, I've got an intruder in room 405.
Or the mastermind behind
warrantless domestic surveillance.
Just a humble officer who adores you.
Okay, Grant, I appreciate
that you like me...
Like? Like? What do you think,
I'm one of these cardboard cut-outs?
Like? No. No, no, no. Adulate. Worship.
Okay, well, I don't adulate
or worship you.
I don't even really like you.
So that's why I'm asking you
to just go away and leave me alone.
- So there's some hope?
- No, no, no. There's no hope.
Cath, I came all the way to England
to see you.
Doesn't that show you
how much I care about you?
No, it shows me that you're obsessed.
Obsession's not a quality that I admire.
Really?
I think the lady wants you
to go, Colonel.
You work for the BBC, don't you?
I do.
You know who ultimately controls
the British Broadcasting Corporation?
A little guy that used to work
down the hall from me
at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
And he did it in his spare time.
I'll catch you later, honey.
It was a party. I was doing
a documentary. I was drunk.
Judging me.
Oh, God.
Let 10C become a model class,
kind and considerate.
Oh, and eager to learn.
- Good afternoon, 10C.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Clarke.
Um, could you all turn to page 73,
please, and read the entire chapter?
- What, the whole chapter?
- Yes.
- Oh, good.
- How exciting!
He's letting us read the whole chapter!
- Great.
- Well, you get on with it, then.
Let the headmaster
be nice to me for a change.
And what you did
with the guitar quite beggars belief.
That is not how Kumbaya goes.
Neil. So good to see you!
I love what you're wearing.
It really does, it's just a great ensemble.
So similar to what you
were wearing before.
But your laissez-faire attitude
to work is a great counterpoint
to my by-the-book approach.
Great having you on the staff, Neil.
- Thank you.
- Right.
Yeah!
He must love you an awful lot
to fly across the Atlantic.
No, he just can't bear losing anything.
As far as Grant's concerned,
I'm just a piece of lost property
he wants to retrieve
and put back on his mantelpiece.
He was really scary. Crazy.
I had a boyfriend like that once.
The sort who wouldn't
take no for an answer.
Did you? What happened?
I married him.
Mr. Eriksson, you know the romance
languages, French, Italian...
Yes, Miss Pringle, I teach them.
Well, I was wondering
how they got their name?
- It's to do with Rome, ancient Rome.
- It's from the Latin.
So it's just a coincidence
that they sound so romantic?
Actually, I'm thinking
of switching to economics.
Oh.
He is...
Let Miss Pringle worship Ray.
Ray.
I can do abso-fucking-lutely anything.
Yeah.
Me be President of the United States.
Hmm.
That's funny.
Me be President of the United States.
- Thank God we found you, sir.
- Sorry?
We've been looking for you everywhere.
Oh, my God!
Help! Help! Guns! They're shooting!
Move, move, move! Move!
I am sorry about that, Mr. President.
Now, here are the briefing papers
for Syria, the deficit,
Israel and the Middle East,
China, global warming,
unemployment
and the Arctic Wildlife Reserve.
They're shooting!
Me be my old self at home!
I can do anything.
Okay, but what do I really want?
Give me a really big dick.
Ouch!
Ouch, not that big, obviously!
Just... Dick, return to the old size.
Oh!
Okay, um... Let me have a penis
that women find exciting.
Yeah, it's good, yeah.
Can I have it in white?
Right, okay, um...
Let me have a really great body.
Wow.
No.
Um, no, look, no, look,
give me the body of a great man.
What the fuck? Not Albert Einstein.
Let me have the great body of a man.
Me be able to see
Catherine from downstairs, now.
Shit.
Let me not be able to see her.
No, I don't mean me go blind.
Let me be able to see
but floor be as it was.
Uh, Catherine from downstairs,
forget what just happened.
Move out of the way.
Thank you. Quiet, please. Quietly.
- Um, Ray?
- Hmm?
You know earlier on we were talking
about being able to do anything?
- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah, well, um...
This is going to sound kind of stupid
but suddenly I can.
- Can what?
- Do anything.
Just make things happen.
Things that shouldn't happen,
I just wave my hand and they do.
You feeling okay?
Yeah, um, just look.
You, tell us who you were.
You'll never believe this
but I was a conjuror!
I went by the name of The Great Alfredo.
Real name was Reg Hoskins.
I did variety, clubs,
private parties, the lot.
What is this?
3D projection or something, right?
Course, it's all gone now.
- I blame the wogs.
- Hey!
All that black minstrel stuff.
Once they started allowing that...
That's not me,
that's what I'm saying. It's...
Jews took over the business.
It was never the same again.
Just go and jump out the window.
Right-o. Watch this.
What...
- How did you do that?
- I don't know.
I could swear it was
the skeleton talking.
- Yeah, it was.
- Okay.
Let me see you do another one.
Well, what? I can't think of anything.
Oh, come on.
You know, how about some flowers?
Bunch of flowers in my hand.
It's pathetic.
How about room be covered in flowers?
Come on, Ray.
Ray. Think of something
more imaginative.
Bloody hell, Palmer.
Did you just throw this out the window?
Neil. Did you throw this out the window?
That's very funny.
What are you doing here?
Go on, get on home. I'll cover for you.
Oh, my God.
This is the best sandwich
I've ever tasted.
Told you.
You know what? We could own a racehorse.
Ray, we could own
every racehorse in the world.
No shit.
- We win every time?
- They're all ours.
Let's forget about the horses.
We could have anything, Neil.
Wealth, fame. Women.
We could make any woman
fall in love with us.
Neil, any woman we want.
Goodnight, Catherine. See you later.
Jump in, babe.
Kerb crawling is illegal
in this country, Grant.
That doesn't really apply to people
with my security clearance.
Besides, how else
are you going to get home?
On the Tube. Go away.
The London Underground is worse than
anything we ever did in Guantanamo.
- You don't deserve that.
- No, I don't deserve this, either.
- Please, leave me alone.
- Okay, okay, I get it.
But you gotta let me down gently, huh?
What does that mean?
Well, there's somebody else, right?
No, Grant, that's not
what this is about.
It's...
You and I are not compatible.
So, we could grab some coffee,
sit and talk.
What would that even achieve?
There's nothing to talk about.
Except for the luxury apartment
I rented for us.
It's got a view of St. Paul's Cathedral.
Oh, my God. Go home, Grant.
- Here's the key.
- I don't want it.
And when I get you up there,
you're going to think you died
and went to heaven.
- Fuck Grant.
- Oh, yeah, fuck Grant.
Fuck Grant.
Fuck James Cleverill.
Fuck all TV producers.
Especially ones that say
you can sleep with them.
But if I play my cards right.
Why do I always end up
with the control freaks?
- Or gays.
- Yeah.
- Who?
- Him upstairs.
Oh, honey, he's not gay.
He's attractive. He's kind.
Well, then, fuck him.
- No, he's nice.
- No, I don't mean fuck him.
I mean fuck him.
- You mean fuck him?
- Yeah.
- What, right now?
- No, not now.
You've got to let me do
your make-up first.
Malfunction.
Galactic power failure.
Bother, we'll have to suspend the test.
- What?
- This is on the blink, Sharon.
The earthling won't have galactic power
until I get it working again.
Botheration!
I thought our galactic powers
meant we could do anything?
Catherine from downstairs,
be madly in love with me.
That was quick.
- Hi.
- Hi.
- Um, you're not gay, are you?
- No, no.
- Let's go to bed.
- Okay.
Oh, shit!
Ow, my leg!
Got it.
Galactic power
now returning to earthling.
Weather, be like it is in Los Angeles.
I didn't mean be like it is
in Los Angeles right this moment.
It's the middle of the night,
for crying out loud.
Weather, be like it usually is
in Los Angeles during the day.
So pedantic.
All right.
Clothes, get dressed on me.
And smarten yourselves up.
Better.
Miss Pringle, this really...
has to stop.
- Oh, Lord.
- Oh, Lord.
Yeah.
Ah. Okay.
That was a very interesting... Ow! Ow!
Could you just stop that, please?
You, stop tapping.
Let's just have a break, shall we? Just...
Right, what's next?
Ooh.
This one's in German. Wow.
Let me be able to understand German.
What are you talking about, Dennis?
Look, just shut up, okay? I can handle this.
She's not going to ask me to marry her.
Or have my children, okay?
Dennis, what are you talking about?
That's a good idea, actually.
What are you talking about?
Dennis, be able to talk.
Biscuits.
- What?
- Biscuits.
Maybe if I make her fall in love with me
like a little bit, you know,
so she doesn't want to marry me
- but she would have sex on a regular...
- Biscuits.
- For crying out loud, they're in the cupboard.
- What are?
Biscuits. Red biscuits, black biscuits.
- Nothing else matters.
- Is that all you think about?
Yes, yes! Biscuits.
All right, Dennis,
become a rational, thinking creature.
Look, I just can't concentrate on anything
until I've had one of those biscuits.
I know it's crazy but that's how it is.
I guess I'm kind of hooked on them.
So please give me just one biscuit,
then I'll be able to think
about something else.
That makes sense.
Oh, oh, oh! He's getting the biscuits!
He's getting them! This is it!
Yeah!
He's got them.
He's got them. He's going to throw one.
Get ready, get ready. Here it comes.
Ah! Mmm. Mmm.
God, it must be terrible being a dog.
I never realised you had so many cravings.
- It's no worse than you and that bitch.
- What bitch?
The bitch you were shagging last night.
Oh, my God. She's not a bitch, okay?
She's a lovely human female.
And we weren't just shagging.
Right. Come to think of it, I wouldn't
mind shagging your leg right now.
A little leg dance, huh?
Just above the sock.
- Ah...
- How about it? Come on, Daddy.
I thought I turned you into
a rational, thinking creature.
Rational, thinking creatures
still have desires.
Oh, well,
we can soon deal with that.
No!
- No, no, don't take my desires away from me.
- Why not?
They're what makes my life worth living.
Biscuits, shagging.
I don't think I like your conversation.
But I worship you, master.
I love you so much.
- I can't bear displeasing you.
- I... I know.
- My whole world collapses...
- I know. Yes. I love you.
...when you're cross with me.
Look, maybe it was better
when you didn't talk.
Oh, no, don't take away my power of speech
now that I can think rationally.
That would be so cruel.
- I heard the bell. Somebody at the door.
- Okay, no...
- The bell! Hey! The bell!
- No, no. Dennis. Dennis, good dog.
- Hello, the bell!
- Dennis... Dennis.
- Hey, hey, somebody.
- Just... Just quiet.
There it goes again.
Hey, hey, somebody at the door.
Oh, no, have I done
something wrong again?
No, just... Just be quiet.
Do you understand me?
Yes. Yes, anything to stop you
being angry with me.
The bell! There it goes again!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Dennis, listen.
Just listen, listen, listen, listen.
Be quiet. That is an order.
Right. Quiet.
I like obeying orders,
especially your orders.
Good. Well, then, shut the fuck up.
Right, right.
Shut the fuck up. Yeah, right.
Good boy.
Oh, God, I made her do it. I made her
do it... I... okay.
- Hi.
- Hey.
- Can I come in?
- Yes, yes, yes, yes, of course.
- So, look, um, about last night...
- Yes.
- Is this a bad time?
- No, no. No, no.
Okay. Um, I just...
I don't want you to think
that I, um, do that sort
of thing all the time
because... Because I don't.
- Um... I was slightly drunk.
- Yeah, well, I mean, naturally.
Otherwise we probably wouldn't have
done the thing with the...
- No, no, no, that's not what I mean.
- ...beard trimmer.
I mean, I like you. I, um, I've always
really enjoyed talking to you.
I just... I probably wouldn't have jumped
on you like that if I hadn't...
- Been pissed as a newt?
- Well, sort of.
Yeah, okay. Well, then, let's just forget it.
It never... It never happened.
No, no, no, that's not
what I'm saying, Neil.
Oh, well, um, what did you want, then?
Shag her, Neil!
That's Dennis.
- Dennis?
- Yeah. He is a plumber.
Um, I'm having a few problems
with my waterworks. My water pipes.
Shag her, Neil!
I'd better get him the shagger.
It's a special wrench that plumbers use.
I thought I told you to shut up.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry, sorry.
You're supposed to be
a rational, thinking creature.
Sorry, sorry. Can't help myself. Sorry.
Oh, dear. I wanna shag your leg.
Shh. It's not a great time,
to be honest.
Maybe later, if you behave.
Oh...
Oh... Couldn't... Couldn't find the shagger,
so he just went with the old decoupler.
I love you, Neil!
Shut up, Dennis!
It's odd, isn't it,
shouting at the plumber like that?
But, uh, the fact is he's my brother.
The plumber is my brother.
Say you love me, Neil.
And we're very close.
- God, Rosie was right.
- Rosie?
Please can I shag your leg?
Jesus, Neil, how could you?
The next morning!
What? I...
- Why do I always end up with creeps?
- I'm not a creep!
There was a cat, Neil!
Neil! Hey, you, cat!
Stay out of my garden, go on!
Neil, it's a ginger tom!
Dennis, be a dumb animal again
for 5 minutes.
So she thinks I'm gay.
I mean, so what, you know?
I mean, it means that she won't want to
marry me or have my kids.
Bingo. Problem solved.
Thank you, Dennis.
Catherine!
Catherine!
Um, me be on the bus.
Ah! I don't mean on the bus.
I mean in the bus.
Not in the engine.
In the passenger accommodation!
Ow!
Hey!
Catherine!
Catherine!
Catherine!
Whoa.
- Ray.
- You've gotta stop Miss Pringle.
She's... She's set up shrines
all over the school.
There's even a website.
Look, you wanted her
to worship you, okay?
- Not like this.
- Ray, I don't have time for this.
Wait, wait, wait.
You haven't lost the powers, have you?
- No, I haven't lost the powers. Ray.
- You have. You've lost the...
- I haven't lost the powers.
- Do the thing.
Ray, become a duck.
Ray. Ray, stop it. Ray, stop it.
Ray, stop it. Ray, become a sausage.
- I haven't lost the powers, Ray, okay? This is...
- Where is he, Neil?
Oh. That's his car.
Oh. Behold the car of Ray!
- Catherine, can we talk?
- No.
But I love you.
You also love Dennis, apparently.
- Did you take that off there?
- Uh, no, this is mine.
- Yours?
- Yeah.
Look, you've got it all wrong
about Dennis.
I've nothing whatsoever against Dennis.
You love him, he loves you.
I'm happy for both of you.
Just don't bring me into it.
Yeah, no, but there's something I need
to tell you about Dennis.
You are going to have to pay for that
now that you've touched it.
- It's mine!
- No, it isn't.
Look, I heard what you
said to each other, Neil.
Yeah, look. There's something crucial
about Dennis you don't know.
- Hey!
- He's not a man.
I don't want to hear this, Neil.
I know, but I'm just saying,
he's not a man.
Ow! Ah! Hell's tits!
- You pervert!
- Ow!
You come in here and steal our stuff?
I told you, that's not your sausage.
- It is my sausage. Give it back.
- Get off. Be careful, be careful.
- Just let go!
- Oh, God!
- Give me 80p.
- Fine.
- I'll just get your change.
- No, it's... Never mind. It's...
Well, no, cos it's 4.20 euro.
- Keep it.
- It's too much for a tip.
- Have it your way.
- I should think so, too. Jesus.
Feck. Sausage, become Ray.
Jesus, Neil. Have you any idea
how vulnerable a sausage feels?
There he is!
I'm off!
- Leave me alone, you nutters!
- Ray! Ray!
Here you go. You must have been hungry.
It's clear he has no idea of doing
any good whatsoever.
Why can't we just get on
with the destruction?
Because there are rules, Maureen.
We must follow galactic procedure.
Rules didn't stop you from eating
the inhabitants of G4378, Janet!
They were delicious.
Very crunchy, as I recall...
- Surprise, surprise!
- Oh, my God!
- No!
- Wait. Wait, wait. Catherine!
You're crazy, do you know that?
Crazy in love, darlin'.
Get out of my flat, Grant.
Well, I can't because
you've locked the door now, babe.
Well, then, get out the way you got in.
Oh, honey, come on, now.
That ain't nice!
Just get out, Grant.
I never want to see you again!
Get out of my life!
Get out!
Come on, now, open the door.
Sorry. Sorry about the noise.
At least it wasn't barking.
Feck off. Not you.
- Walk out the front door, okay?
- Honey!
Then sneak in the back.
Make your way up to my place. No moves.
- No, no, no funny business.
- Come on. Let the love shine through.
You can just stay out of his way
- and I will make you dinner.
- Love me!
- I hate doors!
- All right.
But invite Dennis.
We'll behave like grown-ups.
- Catherine?
- Okay.
- Catherine, come back.
- I'm leaving!
Okay. I'm coming!
Hold on. Wait for me, now.
She's coming to dinner!
This episode looks at doggy fantasies.
Whoa. Hey! It was just about to start.
She's coming to dinner.
- Who?
- Catherine.
Oh, the bitch.
Don't call her that, all right?
I don't want you chipping in, either, okay?
Just pretend to be a dumb animal again.
Me? A dumb animal?
Yeah, well, you know
how to pretend, don't you?
It's just... It's called acting.
Oh, you mean like when I'm having
my tummy tickled?
- You love having your tummy tickled.
- No, I don't.
- What?
- It's a sham, Neil. All dogs do it.
- Why?
- Why do humans like tickling dogs' tummies?
Because they love
having their tummies tickled.
Uh-uh. Dogs pretend to like it because
they know human beings like doing it.
Well, just pretend to be
a perfectly ordinary dog, okay?
Can't I join in the conversation
just a little bit?
- No.
- That is so cruel.
Somebody at the door! Hey! Hey! It's the bell!
It's the bell! It's the bell! It's the bell!
- I know it's the bell, Dennis.
- Right. No, no, sorry.
Just one more peep out of you, okay,
and the flea collar is going back on again.
Right, right, right.
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.
Bark.
Woof.
Do it properly.
Yeah, good. Okay, thank you.
Got it.
- Hi.
- Has he gone?
No, I don't think so.
- Ooh!
- Dennis, down.
You named him after the plumber,
then, did you?
Uh...
Ah. Do you want your tummy tickled?
Why do dogs like that so much?
I don't know.
So the producer promises to take me
out of the general office
and give me a big desk with a view,
but he won't.
He's just trying to get me into bed.
What did you want to tell me?
Uh, just try this first.
Mmm.
Oh, that's incredible.
That's the most wonderful thing
I've ever tasted in my life.
Mmm. I had no idea you were
such a fantastic cook.
I've... I've... It's unlike anything
I've ever tasted. What is it?
I just said, "Let the soup be the most
amazing thing Catherine has ever tasted,
"unlike anything she's tasted before."
- And it is.
- Really?
Really. I can make things happen.
Anything.
That's what I was trying to tell you
this morning, you know?
I wasn't talking to a live-in
homosexual plumber.
I was talking to Dennis.
- The dog?
- Dennis the dog.
- Who answered you back?
- Yeah, because I made him talk.
- Oh.
- With my powers.
Special powers?
I mean, what, you...
You want a bigger desk? You got it.
You want a great view? You got it.
Um... Neil, how long have you had
these special powers?
Well, they came upon me very suddenly.
- Very suddenly?
- Yeah, I was knocked off my bike.
Just ask me to do something, anything.
- Just, you know...
- Listen, Neil, it's... It's okay.
You can get help with this.
Son of a bitch!
Oh!
Shit, Grant!
I'm out of here!
- There's nobody else, huh?
- Who is this guy?
She didn't tell you? I'm her fiance.
- You're not my fiance, Grant.
- Oh, yeah?
And you weren't just making out
with this apology of a man?
Stop this.
You know how long you'd last
on a battlefield, soldier?
I'm sorry, Neil.
- That long.
- I'm warning you.
- You're warning me?
- Yeah, I'm warning you.
Who is this guy?
- Why don't you suck on this, asshole?
- Grant!
All I have to do is go like this and...
And say what?
- Where did you find this fruitcake?
- Put that away, Grant.
Uh, what can I say?
Grant, become a fairy?
It's Grant, not...
...Grant.
- Stop it.
- And you're the goddamn fairy.
How about Grant go back
to where you came from?
- It's Grant.
- How about kiss my arse, Grant?
Neil, don't. He's crazy.
How about you say, "Please, Grant,
don't put a bullet through my brain?"
- Grant, stop it!
- I prefer, "Let all bullets bounce off me."
- Go on, shoot me.
- Oh, my God. You're both crazy.
- He doesn't dare.
- Neil, please, please.
Go on, pull the trigger.
What's the matter, "Grant"?
- Shut up.
- Go on, shoot me.
- Neil, he will.
- No, he won't.
- Yes, I will.
- No, you won't. Grant, drop the gun.
You little shit!
You're idiots, both of you.
I wouldn't do this if I were you.
"I wouldn't do this if I were you."
God, I hate the English.
Let Grant's arm break
if he tries to throttle me.
Shut up. It's Grant!
Oh!
Help! Help! Help!
Who the heck was that?
Uh, that's Dennis.
Ow.
It's just a dog! English dick.
- Ow! Ow... Shit! Shit! What happened?
- Yeah, yeah.
- Do you want me to make it better?
- It hurts.
Grant's arm be better.
Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, what is this?
Grant be stuck on the ceiling.
Oh, shit!
Grant be plastered to the wall.
Wait, wait, wait. Let's talk about this.
Grant be buried head first
in the plant pot.
What do you mean, potted plant?
Grant be standing in front of me.
Yeah. You wanna be nice
to me, Grant, okay?
Maybe I can help you.
- You?
- I could make your life absolutely hell
or I could say,
"Grant be holding a million dollars."
Oh, yeah!
Or I could say,
"A million dollars, disappear."
Fuck! Come on!
I can do anything.
All I have to do is wave my hand.
- You gotta wave your hand?
- That's right.
Isn't he great? I love you.
I love you so much.
- Dennis, keep out of this.
- But you are great, Neil.
- You can do anything.
- Dennis, shut up. I'm not...
Master! Neil!
- Hi. Made your mind up yet?
- How about tonight?
Good girl. 8:00, my place.
Yeah. I always pick
the wrong guy, anyway.
Oh, and, uh, I got you a new desk.
Hey!
Well, it's about time. Now, listen up.
When I take that gag out of your mouth,
you're going to say exactly what's on that
piece of paper, you understand?
The moment you say a word that is not on
that piece of paper, I kill the dog.
Don't let him shoot me, Neil.
Understand? Nod if you understand.
Okay. Okay. I'm going to take the gag
out now. Remember, one wrong word
and the dog gets it.
Okay, read. Item number 1,
let's go. Come on.
"Item number 1.
All pasty white Englishmen...
"Pasty white Englishmen to get big ears
and webbed feet?"
- Now wave your hand.
- What?
Wave your hand!
Oh!
Yes! Yes! Oh, it's beautiful.
Neil! Neil!
Neil?
Neil?
Oh!
You don't worship me, do you?
What? Ray. You're Ray.
- I can't find Neil.
- Isn't he here?
He wasn't at school, either.
Oh, I left him with my crazy,
gun-toting ex-boyfriend.
- Neil's got these powers.
- No, I know, I know.
Oh.
He got Miss Pringle to... To worship me
and now she's turned me into a religion.
- They think I'm immortal.
- So what?
They want me to prove it
by rising from the dead.
We've got to find Neil.
Wait.
Hey! Hey!
What are you doing?
No...
Got it.
- Where's your car?
- Why?
I know where they are.
It's just out here. We can... Shit!
Lord.
Oh, no. Run for it!
Get him! Lord!
Yeah!
This is working beautifully.
Okay, keep going. Number 3. Let's go.
Okay. "3. All British police
to have pink uniforms."
My personal favourite.
Ray!
Lord! Come to us!
Ray! Ray!
What's this all about?
Oi!
Take that off!
There he is!
Oh! Oh... Oh, it's beautiful.
I can't believe it. All right, next one.
Come on, read.
"Let all traffic lights be
permanently set on green."
Come on. That's just...
Oh, hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey.
Huh? Do it, do it.
Wait. Now, listen.
All right.
Grant, are you in there?
Skip to the end. Hurry up.
Just skip to the end!
Skip to the end. Just...
There. Come on, quick. Read it.
Uh, uh... okay, okay,
"Item 417, Catherine West..."
- Come on.
- All right.
Let them go, Grant.
Why should I? Go on, Neil.
Read the last item.
"Item 417, Catherine West be madly, deeply
in love with Colonel Grant Kotchev
"and leap on him like a tigress
begging for sex."
- You bastard.
- Now, come on, now.
Wave your hand. Come on.
- Neil, don't!
- Or the dog gets it!
Don't let him shoot me, Neil.
Come on, wave your goddamn hand!
But I don't want to love him, Neil.
I don't want to go anywhere near him.
I don't wanna die.
Yeah.
Grant, I love you.
Please, please, let's have sex now.
Oh, yeah.
Dennis, be free.
I'm free! I'm free!
Please.
Uh, uh,
- Grant become a corgi!
- What?
Oh, shit.
Do it. Do it, Grant.
Do it, do it!
Me be free.
Yes, yes! Master.
- Yeah.
- You chose to save me rather than that bitch.
Yeah, don't call her that. Catherine be
her normal self and not in love with Grant.
Ugh!
And all Grant's wishes be cancelled.
- Ray!
- Oh, shit.
Oh, no. Get off me!
Neil, stop them!
Lord, show us how to conquer death!
Dorothy Pringle, think about Ray
the way that you used to.
- What the hell, Ray?
- It was nothing to do with me.
Get lost, you creep!
- Thank you.
- Everyone else, forget about Ray.
Thanks, Neil. Thanks a whole bunch.
Ray, could you take me home, please?
Sure.
I'm... I'm sorry...
Any thoughts?
- Pathetic!
- He has no concept of good or evil.
Well, the dogs seem all right.
Yes, yes, the dogs are
all right. It's the people I can't stand.
Oh, hey. Catherine, hi.
Hey, sorry about the other night.
It was... Can I cook you supper?
- Uh, no, thanks, Neil.
- I'm doing a whole suckling pig.
- No.
- Hey, what's the matter?
Is it because I made you
throw yourself at Grant?
No. Look, you did what you had to do.
It worked. Forgotten.
Well, what is it, then?
Do you know what it feels like
to be in someone else's power?
To have no will of your own?
Look, I thought that I made you love me.
- What?
- You know, with my powers.
Oh, my God.
Did I really come home early tonight
because I wanted to or did you make me?
Have I always lived opposite you
or have you somehow rearranged things?
- I'm never going to know.
- Look, I love you.
How could any woman love a man
who could make her do whatever he wants,
any second, every day, forever?
Look, I'm sorry, Neil, I could never
love you, not in a million years.
Oh! Catherine...
Sharon, Sharon, terrible news!
This is indeed grave news.
It appears that
the Salubrious Gat has been
interfering with
our translation devices.
What's he done, Sharon?
I'm afraid, Janet, that we have been
calling ourselves
by foolish-sounding earthling names.
Female ones, at that.
It seems that Sharon is particularly favoured
among female earthlings from Australia.
The shame of it.
Sharon... I mean,
what should we be calling you?
Call me the Death-Dealing
Darkness-Bringer.
Yes, oh, Death-Dealer.
Great waffles, master.
Who cares about waffles?
Catherine hates me. Ray hates me.
Everybody hates me.
I don't hate you and I
care about waffles.
I think I like them even more
than biscuits, even red biscuits.
You know what the worse thing is, Dennis?
This is all my fault.
Mmm-hmm?
You know, I was just thinking
about myself, what I could get.
- Hmm.
- And yet with these powers, you know,
I could have solved every
problem in the world.
- I could have made people happy.
- You couldn't make Catherine happy.
Yeah, because I wanted her to love me.
You know, I was being selfish.
I mean, take world hunger,
you know? Uh...
Let everybody in the world have as much
food as they want.
I mean, take homelessness. Let everybody
in the world have somewhere to live.
No, no, no, live in their dream house.
And war, senseless war, over forever.
Let there be no reason for anyone
to make war on anyone any more.
Yay!
Oh, and reverse global warming.
Has it happened?
The latest nation to
succumb to the sudden mysterious
exponential growth in world food
supplies is China,
where the average weight
is now 300 pounds and rising.
Well, today a party of picnicking
schoolchildren brought down
a mile-long section
of the Great Wall of China.
As homelessness
becomes a thing of the past,
the last undeveloped area
of the Sahara Desert
has become a gated community
known as Beau Geste Towers.
Property developers are now
converging on Antarctica.
- Well, I mean, at least I got rid of war.
- Whoa, that was a good one.
"Let there be no reason to make war..."
- "To make war on anyone any more."
- "...on anyone any more."
How could that go wrong?
For no reason at all,
New Zealand has declared war on Iceland.
Oh, wow. Oh, dear.
Barbados has declared war on Somalia.
And in a surprise move,
the tiny island of St. Kitts and Nevis has
declared war on the entire rest of the world.
Our war correspondent says
he is unavailable for comment
because he's too busy covering all
the other wars which have just broken out
for no reason at all.
A short time ago, scientists were afraid
of constantly rising global temperatures.
- But none of them have any explanation...
- Oh, my God.
- ...for this sudden return...
- Global warming.
...not only to the last ice age but to a
snowball Earth of half a billion years ago.
On the other hand, plans to turn the Antarctic
into the Captain Scott gated community
- have been put on hold...
- Shit!
- Shit, shit, shit!
- Oh, it's not so easy trying to do good, is it?
Yeah, but this is just unfair.
Let everything go back to how it was
before I started trying to make
everything better for everybody.
Beautiful though
the Earth looks from space,
we all know how fragile it is, how much
damage human beings have done to it
and will, it seems,
continue to do to it.
Absolute power doesn't corrupt.
It just drives you bloody mad.
- Tell Catherine I love her.
- Don't do it, master. I love you!
I've made arrangements
for your biscuits.
You'll never have to worry
about them again.
You're the kindest master.
Just shush, okay? I can't concentrate.
- Master, don't you love me?
- I can't stand it, Dennis.
I just... I can't stand
the responsibility.
You need to get that into
your stupid dog brain.
Neil!
I'll save you, master. Here I come!
Oh, wait a second. I can't swim.
Master, help! Woof!
Help! Help! Oh, dear. Woof! Woof!
Oh, there you are.
Thank you, master.
Bless you!
You do love me, master.
Of course I love you, Dennis.
I just don't love myself.
Time's up! Prime
the Destruction Generator.
- Hang on.
- What?
We need to check
if he's passed the test.
- Well, he did start all those wars.
- That was good.
- But then he stopped them all.
- But why?
He said he was trying to make things
better for people.
That's very appalling.
The only good is to destroy.
The only evil is weakness.
Weakness must be annihilated!
Agreed. Vaporise the earthling
and his wretched planet.
I told you so.
Reprime the Destruction Generator.
Try her again, Neil. Go on.
- She... She won't have me.
- Then, give up the powers.
- I can't.
- Then, give them to me.
You wouldn't have the powers
but you'd know where they were.
And being a dog,
all I want to do is follow orders.
I'll do what you tell me to.
- Dennis, you're a genius.
- Not bad, huh?
Destruction Generator already charged,
Death-Dealing Darkness-Bringer.
Commencing destruction.
It is a curse that our numerals
take so long to pronounce.
Uh, yeah, it's like, uh,
you just wave your hand, like that.
I feel it. Wow!
Yeah. There you go.
So what's it going to be? Biscuits?
But the power made you miserable.
Yeah, but I don't have them any more, do I?
Look, tree become Eiffel Tower.
See?
What are you thinking, Dennis?
Forgive me, master.
What? Wait, wait.
What are you going to do?
That's the only short one.
If I have any power, let the source
of that power be destroyed, forever!
All this marking be suddenly finished
and neatly stacked up.
Fiona Blackwell, go away.
Oh, shh, shh. Shush, shush, shush.
Fiona! How lovely to see you.
Hey, great news. I got my sight back.
Hey, I think I hear Catherine.
- Catherine.
- Hi.
Hey. Um, look. Letters become cucumbers.
Us be on the prow of the Titanic.
I got rid of the powers.
I'm impressed.
Yeah. So I thought maybe
we could have some dinner sometime?
- Yeah, maybe, yeah.
- Okay.
- How about tonight?
- I'll be down in half an hour.
We're going out to dinner.
I'll bring you both back a doggy bag.
- I suppose I'd better keep my mouth shut.
- Turn me back, Den.
I can't. I like you as you are.
Those stubby legs. Look at you.
- I'm not a dog, I'm a man.
- Hey, nobody's perfect.
This is chewing a biscuit, boss.
I'll try and give you that right now,
hold one second.
Oh, red biscuit. Great.
No! No!
Oh, got it.
Licking. Licking somebody.
This is like porn. Now a shagging noise.
Oh, look. There's the red bit.
Oh, there, oh, right, oh...
I'm done.
Okay, great.
That's enough chewing biscuits
for fucking half an hour.
