This is my home.
This is the man who raised me.
With my brains and your passion for fashion,
Cambridge isn't gonna know what's hit it.
You've no idea where your mum and dad are?
I don't even know who they are, Geordie.
Leonard, I want to talk to you about your drinking.
There she goes again.
You're a bitter, cold-hearted, ancient old bag!
*CREDITS*
What, pray, is wrong with the world?
It used to be that a man had certain inalienable rights.
A crispy roast potato with his Sunday lunch.
An uninterrupted snooze.
A beverage enjoyed without fear nor favor.
And yet here we are,
the tenets of our society
crumbling before our eyes!
Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
and the falcon cannot hear the falconer.
That was a falcon!
Let's put the falcon to one side, shall we?
The landlord says you've had a skinful.
He's asked you to leave multiple times,
and you've been, in his words, "belligerent."
I'm not belligerent.
I'm full of umbrage, yes... I'm umbracious.
I am umbraged, sir!
But belligerent? I don't believe so, no.
The landlord wants you to leave quietly.
If you don't leave quietly,
I'm gonna have to arrest you.
Entirely up to you.
I can read it to you if you want me...
Let's just take them straight through.
What happened to you?
Port and lemon. With a whisky chaser.
Don't laugh.
I'm not laughing, I'm smiling sympathetically.
Uh, this one's full of umbrage.
I'm full of umbrage, Jennifer.
I didn't even know what umbrage meant till an hour ago.
I really wish everyone would stop saying "umbrage."
Might I say, you look lovely this evening?
Doesn't she look lovely?
Well, you's pretty as a picture.
- She's taken. - Oh, I don't know.
In the face of such genuine affection,
maybe I'm not taken after all.
What we got here, then?
Two for the drunk tank, Floyd.
Is it that time already?
- Yeah, 'fraid so. - Thursday night, innit, Floyd?
Ah, Micky.
Like clockwork.
You just make such a good cuppa.
Can't tear myself away.
Sorry, can I just clarify something?
Uh, drunk tank, as in...
- The tank for drunks. - Yeah.
You're going in the cells, son.
Oh, that's a very kind offer.
But I can make my way home from here.
That's not how it works, Leonard.
You're under arrest.
Well, can't you just unarrest me?
Nice try.
- I'll get the kettle on. - Sit down.
Larry!
- And shut up! - Now who's full of umbrage?
His address is probably Umbrage Wells.
- Umbrage Well... - Yeah, do you get it?
Unless there's anything else,
Miss Scott, I am off
to reacquaint myself with my slippers.
And a nice cold pint.
Might I preface this by saying
I did absolutely nothing wrong.
_
Aren't you gonna get that?
No.
Do you want me to get it?
No.
It's her, isn't it?
- Who? - Meg.
The bishop's daughter.
Oh, Meg... she's lovely! Answer it, then.
We don't know it's her.
Well, we'll never know now.
Why are you avoiding her?
She's marriage material, that one.
I'm not avoiding her.
That poor girl.
- Vicarage. - Alphy?
Where's Cathy and Mrs. C.?
They're right there, aren't they?
Yup.
Don't react when I tell you this.
We've just arrested Leonard.
Yeah, yeah, a pint would be lovely.
It's Geordie.
What's up with you?
Are you sulking?
No.
He said, sulkily.
Leonard threw the glass with the drink.
It hurt, as it happens.
Poor baby... let me kiss it better.
Pictures?
I've got paperwork to do now, haven't I?
"What Every Woman Wants" is on at 10:00.
- Ha. - Ha?
"What Every Woman Wants."
If only I had a bloody clue.
Where's Leonard?
In the cells.
Starting to think he's onto something, you know.
Swearing off the ladies.
? The pipes are calling ?
- Pockets, Micky! - ? From glen to glen ?
- Come on, join in. - ? And down the mountainside ?
I won't, if you don't mind.
He's very good at the harmonies.
? The summer's gone ?
? And all the roses ?
? Falling ?
? It's you, it's you... ? No, it's you... it's you!
- Me? - Yeah, you must go... come on, son.
Alphy!
Micky, this is my lovely friend, Alphy.
Oh, hello, Alphy!
- Can't stop, I'm afraid! - Yeah, sleep tight, son.
What's happened?
I'm a little bit tipsy.
He's a little bit more than a little bit tipsy.
Oh, we've had you in before, I see.
Bit of slap and tickle with a fella.
Hey! Shut your mouth! Leonard!
No, he wants to start something.
I don't, son... not at all.
Don't call me son!
Don't you dare call me son!
Leonard...
No harm meant.
- Just saying. - In, now.
I'm not his bloody son.
Say sorry to the landlord, you can come home with me now.
I'm not apologizing.
What, you'd rather sleep here?
I'm taking a moral stance.
Against what?
I forget.
Leonard, I'm worried about you.
Let me be, Alphy.
I just wish everyone would let me be for once.
Oi, Floyd.
You couldn't get my dad down here, could you?
Get some shut-eye, Micky.
I need my inhaler.
Well!
There's a life lesson in there, ain't there, Micky?
I'm sorry about my friend.
Ah, it's just the booze talking.
Don't worry, I've had worse.
Please, Floyd!
I really need my inhaler.
I can't cope in small spaces.
He's not been right.
Not for a long while.
I just put it down to him missing Daniel.
He's been drinking, a lot.
- People in glass houses and all that. - Oh, yeah.
I don't know.
Something's...
Something's not right.
Daniel's away... he's bored.
He has a few too many.
And before he knows it,
he's throwing port and lemon over a copper.
Happens to the best of us.
Not out tonight?
Nope.
How's Meg?
She's fine.
You've gone off her, haven't you?
- I haven't gone off her. - What's wrong with her?
Too attractive? Too interesting?
Too in love with you?
Who said anything about love?
I have a theory, if you want to hear.
It's that letter from your mam.
Schrödinger's letter, I'm calling it.
- After Schrödinger's cat. - Schrödinger's cat, I know.
It's a paradox, you see?
If you don't open it,
what your mam says can either be something you want to hear,
like, you were loved,
or something you don't want to hear,
like, she's glad to see the back of you.
Nice... thanks.
Until you open it, you are stuck.
In a bind, no answers.
- No chance of moving forward. - Pub?
Ah, deflection... it's interesting.
Or maybe it has nothing to do with the letter
and I just don't fancy seeing Meg tonight.
Sir?
Help!
Please, somebody!
Somebody!
Help!
It feels wrong.
Leaving Leonard.
Oh, let him sleep on it.
Be as meek as a lamb come morning.
- I was first. - No, I was first! Back off.
You back off!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Well, he pushed in the queue.
Oh, you bloody pushed in.
British people who don't like queues.
Well, there's a first.
Back in your corners, gents.
Is it a full moon or something?
Oh, just another thread in the rich tapestry
that is Thursday night in the nick... good night.
- Night. - Sorry, boss.
Are we going to the pictures or not?
We could do that, Jennifer, yes.
We could go every night,
you and me, watching films.
Endless films, for all eternity.
Was that a yes or a no?
- Proposed again? - Probably.
Excuse me.
My son, Micky Goodwin, daft sod, forgot his inhaler.
He's got a weak chest, you see.
He doesn't get it from his mother's side,
if you gather my meaning.
She's a big girl.
- Yeah, we, we got that, Mr. Goodwin. - Donny, yeah.
Well, you could go ahead and get the beers in, and...
Oh, I could.
But it's your round.
Help!
Please, somebody!
I need help!
Please!
I don't know what happened.
- Floyd? - He's gone.
I think he's gone.
Help! I can't breathe!
Micky?
I can't wake him.
He won't wake up.
I need my dad... I, I can't breathe!
I've got your inhaler here, Micky.
Micky? Micky!
Micky... we need to get him out of here, now!
- Where's the key, Leonard? - I don't know, I...
My dad! I want my dad!
Okay, I'm gonna get him now, okay? Just...
- Floyd should have a key. - I can't see it!
Larry, keys to the cells, where are they?
- Floyd has 'em. - I think Floyd's dead.
What?!
Is it Micky?
He can't breathe.
There you go.
- Which one? - He's this way.
I don't know which one!
Try his pocket, maybe.
- Dad! - All right.
You're all right, you daft bugger.
Deep breaths, all right?
- Get him out of here! - It's one of these, boss.
Oh, for goodness' sake.
- I'll call for an ambulance. - All right.
All right, deep breaths, all right? Okay?
- Have you found it, Leonard? - There's no key.
There has to be!
Look, I'm telling you, there's no bloody key!
- Bloody hell! - Okay, okay, I got it.
Get him out! He needs to get out!
Yeah, we're trying!
All right? Nice and calm.
Just hang on, Micky.
Hang on, Micky.
Deep breaths... that's my boy.
I passed out.
I don't know, something must've woken me and...
And what?
And he was just there.
Maybe Floyd came in to check on Leonard and had a heart attack.
- Alphy. - Or a stroke, maybe.
You saw the bruises.
It wasn't a stroke.
How much did you have to drink this evening?
I don't remember, exactly.
Well, the barman said it was a dozen or more.
Surprised you're still standing.
Are you really going to start lecturing me, Alphy Kottaram?
I'm worried about you, Leonard.
No, you're judging me.
Is it Daniel? Has something happened?
My father died.
Leonard, I'm...
I'm sorry.
Why didn't you tell us?
He didn't love me, I didn't love him... there wasn't much to say.
- Did you go to the funeral? - I don't want to talk about it.
Do you remember threatening Floyd?
No.
He made reference to your previous arrest.
- I don't remember. - He called you "son."
Did he?
You were angry with him.
I really don't remember, Geordie.
Rent six days a week.
Electric, gas.
Staff, till, signage.
Advertising.
- Stock. - Stock.
What's the grand total?
Brace yourself, Sylvia.
Christ on a bike.
Well, it was a nice idea, wasn't it?
Passed the time.
Till reality hit us smack bang in the gob.
Don't hate me.
I might've done a silly thing.
How silly?
I've got us a meeting with the bank manager about a loan.
Women can't get loans, Sylvia.
It's not strictly us who'll be getting it.
It's a Mr. Colin Chapman.
Who's he?
I made him up.
That's fraud, Sylvia!
I was thinking we could go in disguise.
I rather suit a trilby.
What if that's the bank?
What if they're onto us?
Vicarage.
Cathy.
Where's Mrs. C.?
She's right there, isn't she?
Yup.
Don't react when I tell you this.
Leonard's in a bit of trouble.
Leonard's in trouble.
I'll get my coat.
Cathy, I said don't tell her.
When did I ever listen to anything you say?
Contacted his family?
Wife died years ago.
I spoke to his sister, though.
Poor bugger.
Less than a year from retirement.
Hands around the throat, pressure on the windpipe.
Somebody squeezed the life out of him.
This door was locked when we arrived.
So?
So maybe someone stole Floyd's key,
and then maybe, maybe they
locked him in here, but from the outside.
Floyd's key.
There were only two people in this cell,
and only one of them came out alive.
Leonard doesn't have it in him... you know he doesn't.
We all have it in us, Alphy.
Every single one of us.
I didn't see nothing.
Anything, Micky.
I didn't see anything.
He's not one for schooling, this one.
Marilyn Monroe could've walked past.
I'd have been none the wiser.
Did you hear anything?
I couldn't catch my breath.
That's all I was thinking about, breathing in, breathing out.
You didn't hear Floyd opening the door?
Um, I heard the door go
and I heard a gurgling sound.
- Gurgling? - Yeah, like someone couldn't breathe.
It made me panic even more.
I thought it might've been that nice fella I came in with.
Wait here, you two.
Cuppa?
Well, we've missed the 10:00 showing now,
and the 11:00, so yes, please.
You do say "yes" sometimes, then.
Oh, just a stab in the dark here, Larry.
Is this about the proposal?
Proposals, plural.
We've been over and over this.
So I should be fine with it, then, should I?
The woman I love doesn't want to marry me?
I do want to marry you, I...
But you're not going to.
I would rather we didn't do this at work.
We're not doing it anywhere, as far as I can bloody see.
Larry, keep your voice down.
Sorry!
Little Miss Perfect.
With your perfect dresses, perfect hair,
and your face.
Just being all perfect.
But on the inside, you know what you are?
You're mean.
Mean and cold, and you've got no bloody heart.
- Are you gonna cry? - No.
You are, aren't you? You're gonna cry.
How can I?
I've got no heart.
Oh, are you all right, love?
Yes, thank you.
Where's Leonard?
If you'll just take a seat...
- No! - Absolutely not.
Wait.
It's Floyd's.
It was in your cell.
So it could only be me.
That's what you think.
I tried to stop 'em... sorry.
Oh, bringing in the big guns, are we?
I thought we weren't talking.
- You're my boy, Leonard. - She's scared for you.
Could you give us a minute, please?
Why aren't we talking, Mrs. C.?
You know why.
No, I don't, I...
I can't remember.
We had a tiff.
You called me things.
What kind of things?
A bitter, cold-hearted, ancient old bag.
If I can say that to someone I love and not recall a thing...
What if there isn't another explanation?
What if I put my hands around that man's throat?
What if I squeezed the life out of him?
- We've missed something. - Alphy...
We have to have missed something.
I don't like to think it, either,
but we have to, don't we?
Leonard was drunk.
He's grieving.
He's angry.
Geordie.
There's something down his throat.
See?
Well, bugger me.
Betting slip.
Well, does that seem like Leonard to you?
Now, a drunken argument gets out of hand, maybe, but...
Shoving this down his throat.
Leonard wouldn't do that.
This evening's paper... race results
you asked for.
- What have you done? - Made her cry.
Larry!
Miss Scott cries?
Yeah, news to me, too.
The race was at 4:15... Jezebel.
Jezebel, Jezebel...
Newmarket.
Came first at ten to one.
- That's good odds. - That's good odds.
So, Floyd placed a bet and wins big...
Waight's is the bookie's on Bridge Street.
The betting shop is here.
- Where did you pick up Leonard? - The Mitre.
Right next door.
Where I picked up Micky, too.
- Micky was at the Mitre? - He could barely walk straight.
What if Floyd placed a bet, got his winnings,
what if he went next door to the Mitre,
crowing about his good luck...
What if Micky killed him for the winnings?
That's a lot of what-ifs.
Micky was locked in his cell.
Well, Donny, then.
Donny wasn't even in the building.
You can't just fling about accusations, Alphy.
I'd just apologize, hm?
I would, if I thought it'd make any difference.
Larry scooped you up at the Mitre.
You know he did. Less of the lip.
Sorry... yes, I was at the Mitre.
Did you see Floyd there?
I was reading.
Any talk of horses?
Horses?
Kurt Vonnegut rather trumped
what anyone else was saying.
Micky was in the pub.
- Was he? - Just start from when you got there.
It was quiet.
I went to my usual, my usual table.
I got my book out.
We're at the final stretch now, the field is tight.
Peeper Day is neck and neck with Jezebel,
but it's Jezebel who's looking strong here... Go on, go on.
The wireless was on.
The racing?
Men were shouting... they were excited.
What were they shouting?
- She's going to do it. - Go on!
Go on, love, go on, yes, move!
Yes! Get in, my girl!
- What you done, Floyd? - Ah, took a punt.
Was inspired by your missus as it happens, Donny.
Jezebel.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Jezebel... the, the horse was called Jezebel.
Donny was there?
Micky's dad?
I think you're onto something with the disguise.
How'd you feel about a fake moustache?
Got one of my own, thank you.
So do I, in a certain light.
I noticed.
That Leonard was having too many.
I didn't say anything.
We all noticed.
We all didn't say anything.
He's a fragile boy.
My lot, three girls.
The one that worries me the most is the boy.
We talk.
Women talk.
They don't talk.
Why is that?
They're petrified they'll start crying and never stop.
And they think we're the delicate ones.
False moustache could work wonders, you know.
That and the trilby.
Mr. Colin Chapman at your service.
You knew Floyd.
Well, I wouldn't say "knew" him.
We drank at the same pub.
And you didn't think to mention it.
You never asked.
Floyd won on a horse.
Yeah, and didn't we know it?
Made ten quid, didn't even buy us a drink. Nope.
Is that what the fight was about?
He called my missus a Jezebel.
Yeah, Dad showed him a thing or two.
Quite right, son, quite right.
Fisticuffs in the pub.
An hour later, Floyd's dead.
What, you think it's us?
Is it?
Well, I was in one cell, Floyd was dead in another.
And I wasn't even here... who do you think I am, Houdini?
Is that the fella that works in the chip shop?
You think me and this lump is up to murder?
You're reaching there, fellas.
Thank you.
I'm not usually this ridiculous.
I am... most days.
But then I have got kids.
I just have a rather irritating man.
Sometimes I don't know why I bother.
Because you love him?
Well, there is that, of course.
Because he's kind and sweet and handsome?
Aw! Look at that little face.
I love this job.
If I have to leave it and become a housewife...
You'll end up inside for murder?
Without a doubt.
There's still so much I haven't told him.
Ah, deep dark secrets.
We all have those.
I bet even he has.
I don't think so.
No, maybe not.
Larry... with me?
Have you told Geordie all of your secrets?
He don't know the half of it.
All right, Cathy?
Lovely, thanks.
Gotta keep a little mystique.
Right.
You're Leonard, you're Micky, I'm Floyd with the key.
You've lost me already.
Oh, it's a locked room mystery.
A fictional device.
A man gets murdered,
and seemingly impossibly,
his murderer escapes.
Just get in the cell, Larry.
So, Micky's in his cell.
Now, Floyd puts Leonard in his cell, hm?
Things I do for this job.
Right, so Floyd still has the key.
So maybe Micky calls him over
and tries to grab the key through the hatch.
- Didn't hear a word of that. - Just try and grab the key.
No chance.
Okay, so for some reason...
For some reason, Floyd goes into the cell.
'Cause Micky's breathing funny.
Yes, of course! Micky's breathing funny.
Okay, so Floyd lets himself in.
Micky strangles Floyd.
Larry!
This is pretend. Sorry.
Micky takes the key.
And drags Floyd's body into the hall.
Now Micky uses the key to unlock Leonard's cell.
Exactly.
You took your time.
Leonard's asleep.
Then Micky drags Floyd's body in.
Micky leaves,
locking the door behind him.
And then locks himself back in his cell.
That works, doesn't it?
No.
We found the key in here.
Right... start again.
There's no way Micky did it, is there?
- Maybe we have to consider... - Look, Leonard is sad.
He's not violent.
You know it upsets me, Geordie.
What does?
That he didn't feel he could talk to us.
I really am sorry about your dad.
What is this?
Look, we, we thought we should talk.
About, you know, feelings.
You want to talk about feelings?
Not really.
But we're waiting on the postmortem,
and Alphy said we should.
How you feeling about your dad?
Fantastic.
Over the moon.
Leonard.
We weren't close.
Why not?
I'm a homosexual, Alphy.
Well, I imagine that's not the only reason.
Let's just say our relationship went south when...
Come to think of it, I'm not sure it was ever north.
What about your father, Geordie?
He was a bastard.
Well, thanks for sharing.
And when he died,
I bawled my eyes out.
I'm not sure why... was glad to see the back of him.
Maybe you cried for the father you wish he'd been.
Well, maybe... I don't know.
Is that why you've been drinking?
I thought we were talking about feelings.
You're grieving for the father you didn't have?
I don't know about that, it's just...
It's the only moment of respite I can find.
Not the first drink.
Not even the third.
But if you have enough, then, suddenly...
Peace?
For a short while.
Go on, then, Alphy.
What's your sob story?
Your dad was an accountant, wasn't he?
It's all right, Geordie... it's fine.
I was a foundling.
I'm so sorry, I, I...
I had no idea.
Why would you?
If you don't want to talk about it, I...
No, no, it, it's fine.
I don't, I don't mind.
Do you know who your parents are?
No.
I was brought up by a vicar called Potts.
He was my family.
I was loved, I was...
Happy... I am happy, so...
Leonard, why are you drinking so much?
My father didn't want me.
At the funeral.
Specifically instructed that I wasn't there.
It's fine, I...
I'm fine with it.
I was a disappointment to him.
All my life, I've known that.
You're not a disappointment.
No, I am... I'm a...
I am, I'm a disappointment.
Leonard, you are the kindest, bravest man I have ever met.
But if your own father can't find something in you to love...
That's his fault.
Not yours.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Don't be sorry.
Can we talk about something else, please?
I think my son hates me.
David doesn't hate you... why would you say that?
I caught him fooling about with, um,
things, clothes, that didn't belong to him.
I lost my temper.
Am I a good dad?
You love him, don't you?
I'd kill for him.
There you go, then.
But what if I end up driving him away, like my dad did me?
Just tell him you love him.
What, just like that? "I love you"?
He wants your approval, Geordie.
I'd have given the world for my father to have said,
"I love you."
Just one time.
What if that's what this is about?
What if Micky did all of this for his dad's approval?
He can't have, Alphy.
It's impossible.
Like one of your locked room mysteries.
No, but that's the thing.
It's never impossible.
In the end, there's always an answer.
I'm so sorry I made you cry.
Making you cry, it made me want to cry.
I want to marry you.
Really?
Sorry, carry on.
But there are a lot of things.
A lot of things we haven't talked about.
A lot of things I never talk about, because,
well, I made a decision not to talk about them.
Sorry... just thinking
about the marriage thing.
My parents are not very nice people.
When I was born,
they took one look at me
and decided I was worthless.
You're not worthless.
- I know. - Good.
But I still have my foibles.
I'm not a very nice person in the morning.
In fact, I'm a monster.
That's not so bad, as foibles go.
I haven't finished yet.
I don't like to lose at cards, or board games,
or arguments.
I don't cook, apart from breakfast items.
- I have a particular aversion to ironing. - Is that the lot?
Far from it.
They're just off the top of my head.
Everyone has foibles.
I don't want my parents at the wedding.
But you do want a wedding?
More than anything.
But I still want to work.
It's impossible.
Nothing's ever impossible.
Miss Scott.
My sweet Jenny.
The love of my life.
Please, will you just marry me?
I thought you'd never ask.
Can we go home yet?
It's way past this one's bedtime.
Just need your John Hancock.
- My what? - Just sign the damn thing, Micky.
And before you go, Micky, bit of friendly advice...
Ah, still waiting, fellas?
Worse than the Post Office, this.
Where's Cathy?
Gone.
- Why don't you go? - No.
Leonard might not be out for hours.
I'm not leaving.
Whose paper is this?
Friendly chap who came in for his son.
Friendly? Why do you say friendly?
Been chatting with everyone.
Me and Cath, those fellas.
Back off!
You back off!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Sorry, do you mind if I ask you a question?
As long as you're not collecting for charity.
Fire away.
- That Micky's paperwork? - Yeah.
Get this filed and I can spend some quality time with my Jen.
So sorry.
How about this... someone swipes the master keys
and somehow, miraculously,
gets them back without anyone noticing?
That's not how they did it.
- They? - Micky and Donny.
Donny wasn't here.
You said something woke you.
- Could it have been a cell door closing? - Could've been.
- Maybe. - Where's the betting slip?
Yeah.
They both did it, Geordie.
Please.
Well, you better be going somewhere with this, fellas.
Micky.
You're put in your cell.
Leonard's put in his.
And then the plan starts.
And you pretend you can't breathe.
Come on, son, quiet it down in there.
And that's where Donny comes in.
I wasn't even here,
so don't be trying to drag me into it.
You didn't need to be.
I, um, couldn't ask you a favor, could I, fellas?
All you needed to do was create a distraction.
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey!
So that Micky could complete the job...
get back to his cell...
and lock it with Floyd's key...
without being seen.
It was all planned.
Micky's arrest, the asthma attack.
Excuse me...
You arrived again, now with Micky's inhaler.
forgot his inhaler.
Under the guise of helping him, you take the key.
There has to be! I'm telling you, there's no bloody key!
While we were distracted,
you threw the key into Leonard's cell.
Your paper, Donny.
You circled one horse.
Micky wrote the betting slip.
This is your handwriting.
But what happened, hm?
Few too many and forgot to place it?
Right so, he wakes up, tractor man,
doesn't like tractors anymore...
- Pint of mild, please. - Righto.
You messed up, Micky.
Floyd's winnings should have been your father's,
- and he wasn't happy, was he? - Stop putting words in his mouth.
- I wanted Dad to see. - Shut up.
I wanted you to see that I'm not daft!
That I could make things good.
So I said to him...
I'd do it.
Shut your mouth!
You weak excuse for a man!
Enough!
You wanted to make your father proud.
He called me his "good boy."
You've never called me
your "good boy" before.
Here's the thing about Schrödinger's...
You're not still on about that cat, are you?
That letter.
The letter Potts kept from me all those years?
It could be full of the most...
beautiful and kind words,
and you'd never know.
Words like, "I love you," you mean?
Just open it, Alphy.
What have you got to lose?
So...
- What does the day hold for you? - School.
Anything fun?
David, come here.
Come.
I just want to say...
and I know I don't say it enough...
A man needs a straight tie if he's to get ahead in this world.
I think I might need your help.
Please, will you help me?
I love you.
I love you so much!
*CREDITS*