♪ Everybody sees you ♪
♪ Everybody looks and stares ♪
♪ I'd just like to make you mine All mine ♪
♪ Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na-na-na now ♪
♪ Baby, give it up, give it up ♪
♪ Baby, give it up ♪
♪ Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na-na-na now ♪
♪ Baby, give it up, give it up ♪
♪ Baby, give it up ♪
-Hey, Mum. -I was worried. It's almost six.
I took a detour after Luss to show Pia the pretty way.
I slept through it. Hi.
Pia, Mum. Mum, Pia.
-Nice to meet you. -You too.
Janet.
-Pretty wee thing you've captured. -Mum!
Hey, I'm flattered. Thank you.
-I like your accent. -Ditto.
What was that, love?
Ditto.
Uh, "ditto."
Oh!
So, did you grow up in America? Or are you originally from--
Jesus, Mum!
US, born and bred.
Okay.
I hope you're both hungry.
-Yeah. -Starving.
Who's the pianist?
Dad was.
-Is that him? -Aye. Kenneth.
"Kenny," Mum called him.
Is it creepy if I say he looks good in that cap?
A bit. Yeah.
Tomorrow, we'll show Pia around the village,
and then we'll probably set off Monday morning.
-You're only staying two nights? -Well, we've got to head on to Rùm.
To shoot, uh, my film--
Our… our film.
Uh, about the rare egg guy.
So, that's what your documentary's about? This egg collector from Rùm?
He's not a collector. He…
he guards rare eggs against collectors who want to steal them.
It's, uh, it's a big trade.
The way I see it, this is going to be a story
about one of the last remaining holdouts against the commodification of nature.
Not about a man who watches eggs?
Well, yeah, but it--
He's like a vigilante.
A guardian angel.
Egg theft is illegal,
but the local cops aren't interested, or they're too lazy.
I mean…
Maybe if someone who looked like me were stealing the eggs--
They're probably just overstretched. Policing's a very demanding job.
As your dad knew.
-Mm. -Yeah. I mean…
Yeah.
I saw that photo of him in uniform,
and 20 minutes later, I'm shit-mouthing the cops? Like…
She hates me.
-No, she doesn't. She likes you. -She said that?
It's just, anything with Dad…
She's sensitive. She misses him.
Well, of course. I mean, you must too.
In theory.
Sort of do.
I was eight when he died,
so most of my life, he's just been a few photographs.
Mm.
He was ill quite a while before he died.
Uh, needed a lot of caring, you know.
I think that really took it out of Mum.
Whole place was a lot quieter from then on.
Seriously, are you hard right now?
I am.
That is…
…totally inappropriate.
I'm so, so sorry.
Does that thing work?
Uh, last time I checked.
No tape. Boo.
-What were you gonna film with it? -Here. Watch.
You okay? Good to go?
What's "Burgerack"?
Bergerac. Old detective show.
Your folks were seriously into it.
That's a whole lot of Bergerac.
Uh, Mum had a crush on John Nettles.
The… the guy who played Bergerac. She used to say he had a nice bum.
I do not wanna think about your mom getting wet over some dude's butt.
Well, he did have a nice one.
You heading out?
Just taking Pia to the loch.
Might get windy. I can fill you a thermos with some tea.
-It's no bother, Mum. -Well…
Have a nice time.
-It's okay. -We should leave now.
It's like something from a painting.
That's because people paint landscapes.
I mean, this place is amazing. I can't believe it's so empty.
We're the only ones here. It's weird.
Davis McCardle.
I told you never to show your face in here again.
You can walk right back out that door now!
Hello, Stuart.
How are you doing, you fucking wank?
Hey! What the fuck is with that hair, eh? You gonna tell me your pronouns?
I just let it grow a bit. You know?
I thought you were in London, studying woke film theory,
or whatever you call it.
Someday, this guy will be polishing BAFTAs
and forgetting about us poor wee shites he used to cut about with.
Years ago, Stuart made a model for my short video.
A spaceship.
-Yeah, a Solaris tribute. -With a working engine.
You get the picture.
Said if he ended up making the next Star Wars,
I'd help out with the special effects, but he's, uh…
he's turned his back on us old gadgies now he's down the big town, eh?
-See, he's not even introducing you to me. -Oh, sorry.
This is Pia.
-She was in my film course as well. -Oh!
-Oh, your course, was it? -No.
He thinks they're gonna name it after him someday.
Well, I thought they were gonna name it after me, so…
Yes, well, that would be the smart move, eh?
What with fucking diversity and all that.
Uh, three pints on the house. No charge.
Crisps all around?
It's a shame he's dragged you out of London up to this ghost town, eh?
All the holiday atmosphere of a hospice.
You're still in business.
Skin of the teeth, man. Look around.
We are on our arse.
I keep telling Dad if things don't pick up,
we'll just have to bite the bullet and jack it fucking in.
Speak of the cunt.
-What are you doing? -Well, I sh… I should say hello.
No, no, don't bother.
That'll be his fifth refill today.
The only reason he comes downstairs these days.
Christ.
Oh, there he goes.
Up to his pit.
Is he… is he depressed, or--
Of course he's depressed.
There used to be three pubs around here.
And now we're the last man standing. It's a…
it's a proper dead zone.
I don't get it. It's so beautiful around here. I--
How are you not overrun with tourists?
'Cause of Iain Adair.
Who is Iain Adair?
-You didn't tell her about Iain Adair? -Come on.
-It's… it's a bit-- -Who is Iain Adair?
Okay, okay, fine. So…
Iain Adair was a guy who lived up at Five Acres Farm on the hill there
with his mum and dad.
People said he was quiet, easily led, not too bright. All of that, you know?
But really, he was just some local guy.
-Anyway-- -Turned out he tortured and killed people.
I was building up to that.
I haven't got your storytelling instincts. You tell it.
-No, you spoiled it now. -No, not the end bit with your dad.
-What end bit with your dad? -Can I just start from the beginning?
Yeah, just pretend you don't know the murder stuff yet.
-Sure. -Okay.
So,
picture it.
There used to be loads of holidaymakers here.
Loads of them.
In 1997, this couple in their twenties hire a cottage for their honeymoon.
Back when we still had tourists.
Sorry.
-They were here for about a week. -Mr. Smiley.
Loads of people saw them.
Dad said they drank in here a couple of nights.
Come the end of the week, they're supposed to have left.
The cleaner comes to get their cottage ready for the next booking.
Their car's parked outside.
And all their stuff's still there.
No sign of them. Gone.
-Creepy. -Very creepy.
-So, of course, Dad gets called in. -His dad was a local policeman.
-Aye, she knows that. -Oh. Okay, sorry.
So, Dad's asking around, right? Knocking on doors.
This couple is nowhere to be found.
Vanished off the face of the earth and all that.
After a day or two, it becomes a big story.
Mm.
Tabloids pick it up.
Place is swarming with journalists. It's a frenzy.
But then weeks go by, and there's no sign of them. Nothing.
And then Princess Diana died. You know?
Papers moved onto that. Story fizzles out. Finished.
Until one day--
One night.
Mm.
Iain Adair's drinking in here.
-In here? -He drank in here all the time.
Always sat right there.
Anyway, this night,
he's had way more than usual.
People say he's talking weird.
He's making a nuisance of himself.
There's a poster of the missing couple on the wall.
He even makes comments about the girl. And your dad--
Yeah, the auld pissheid, he tells Iain he's barred.
Iain tells him to fuck off.
Says he's got half a mind to come back and shoot the place up.
Nice.
Dad's worried now 'cause Iain's a farmer. He's got a shotgun.
So, Dad asks Kenneth, his dad,
to go and check in on Iain, have a word with him.
-So then Dad-- -His dad, Kenneth.
-Of course it's my dad. -Sorry.
Dad drives up to Five Acres.
Knocks on the door.
Says, "I just wanna talk to you," etc.
Iain doesn't answer.
Dad's walking back to his car when Iain opens the upstairs window and…
shoots him.
Sorry. He shot your dad?
-Yeah. -Mm-hmm.
-Not fatally, in the shoulder. Bad though. -Holy shit.
So Dad, crawling back to his car, calls for backup,
when, from inside the house…
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Then nothing.
Backup arrives.
They go in.
Iain Adair shot his mum and dad, then himself.
Total wipeout.
-Farmicide. -Mm.
While they're looking around the farm,
they check out the cellar.
Oh God.
Behind a wardrobe, there's a hidden door leading to a bunker.
-Old WWII, or '60s, or something. -Here we go.
And inside, it's like a torture room.
This guy had been abducting people.
Keeping them down there and doing God knows what for weeks at a time.
And then burying the bodies out in the fields.
The honeymoon couple?
-Fuck me, and the rest of them. -The rest?
Around here, the countryside can be pretty dangerous.
There's deep water and all that, you know?
Sometimes, people went missing.
Walker takes a wrong turn, you know?
Someone rents a kayak and doesn't come back.
Over the years, nobody was really totting it all up.
-How many we talking about? -Eight.
Oh.
All been tortured.
And the rest of it. Dark sex things. Really extreme stuff.
-Yeah. Okay. -It'd give you nightmares.
So…
Yeah, that was Iain Adair.
That is a lot.
-Mm-hmm. -Mm.
And as you can imagine, it doesn't look great on TripAdvisor.
End result?
Fuck-all visitors.
-Didn't just shit in his victims' mouths. -Don't know he did that.
He shat on the tourist trade too.
But your dad, he recovered.
-I mean… -Well, his injuries weren't that bad.
-He was in hospital a couple of weeks. -Right.
But while he was in there, he got MRSA.
And that killed him over time.
So, far as Mum's concerned, Iain Adair killed Dad too.
Well…
-She's not wrong. -Aye.
-Another pint? -Aye.
Magda!
Three pints.
Can we go see where it happened?
It's perfect.
You don't see it?
-See what? -Can we get in there?
No. It's boarded up. There's planks. Why would we wanna get in there?
Because. This is what our film should be about.
All of this.
What? This?
Wha--
Quaint little village,
but for years, this Hannibal Lecter dude has been operating a death den?
At the heart of it? I mean, it's a story.
-It's an actual story. -Are you serious?
-Well, yeah. -But…
-We're meeting the egg guy on Wednesday. -Fuck the egg guy. I'm sorry. Come on.
Come on!
You said you liked the egg idea.
Oh, babe.
I kinda liked it.
Just like I kinda like plain pasta in a pinch. But I love this.
I love it!
So, um…
A… a true crime film about Iain Adair?
We can pitch to production companies, who will fund it.
I had a meeting with Kate Cezar at Historik. She might go for this.
-People know the story. -I didn't.
I mean, it's not a whodunit. There's no mystery.
Are you nuts?
The mystery is, "How could someone do that shit?"
It's "What the fuck?" It's "Give me the details."
And the details are so awful, it is irresistible.
-Sounds tacky. -No, no, no, no, no, no!
We won't let it be.
It'll be a… a solid piece.
Well-made, high-end.
And it's exploring the biggest topic, life and death.
It's just not the kind of thing I want us to make. Okay?
Well, then, what do you want to make?
A meditation on the Egg Man of Rùm
that will maybe play at a festival
and maybe be admired by a couple dozen documentary nerds?
Or something that people will watch?
Something they actually want to see!
If you don't wanna make it, I will.
Iain Adair shot my dad.
He died, Pia.
He fucking died.
-That's real. That's not fucking content. -Of course. That's not what I meant.
It'd dredge up so much shit for Mum. She lost her husband.
Okay, okay, and we can make that point. Her point.
He was a victim too.
You said that he's been forgotten in all of this.
It was so good. Thank you.
Did you not like the dauphinoise?
Uh, I just try to limit my carbs.
But what I had was delicious.
Oh.
Good.
We would do it justice.
It would feel and look professional.
Babe.
It's a brilliant idea.
Visual showcase. Bring the tourists back.
What was the name of that Netflix thing? About the guy that killed women?
Maybe narrow that down.
One of them, he ate her own eye in front of her.
The Waltonville Claw.
So, half this show was just amazing, constant footage
of Waltonville, forests and mountains,
fucking waterfalls!
Looked like a brochure.
Yeah, my cousin actually booked a holiday just off how it looked.
Hm.
He said the place was fucking heaving when he got there.
Cunts get a load of this place on their 4K fucking flat screens
and they will be crawling all over us like flies on dog shite,
but with money.
I've even got a drone you can use.
-Opening shot. -Moody piano chord. I love it.
-Of course you've got a drone. -Of course you're a cunt about it.
Ah!
I've got something even better.
Wait there.
Hang on.
-Okay. -Yes!
This is my mum's curiosity box.
She was fucking obsessed with the whole thing. Obsessed.
My dad fucking hated it.
This is a whole archive.
I'd call it a morbidly obsessive collection.
Man, he looks creepy.
It's not every day one of your regulars turns out to be Vlad the fucking Impaler.
-She was bound to want a souvenir. -Will she mind if we borrow it?
She won't give a fuck. She's been dead for four years.
We can hook this up.
Mum's Stone Age VCR.
Yeah. Ooh!
It's got a tape in it.
Mm.
Of course.
Hey, that's your mom's boyfriend.
-Show us his butt. -I think that's enough of that.
Pass us one of Stu's tapes.
Should we dive in?
It's four days since Dawn and Simon Challis
were last seen alive
in the tourist hotspot of Loch Henry,
the holiday cottage they'd rented left eerily abandoned.
Yet, despite extensive searches of the local area…
That's Dad!
…still no sign of the missing couple.
Locals are mystified.
-It all seems quite odd. -That's Stuart's dad.
Everybody's worried.
I mean, Dawn, the missing girl, is very attractive, so…
Objectified much?
-Everybody's hoping they'll be okay. -Jeez.
You should've asked.
About what?
All that
stuff of your mum's that you gave to Janet's boy for his film or whatever.
Ah, keep your blouse on. You'll get it back.
-Shouldn't be making movies about it. -Fuck me, movies.
Christ.
Whoa.
Sorry. Sorry.
-A bit close, babe. -No, it's okay.
Davis!
Yes!
♪ I was outta love and outta my heart ♪
♪ I couldn't quite stop something That I didn't start ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, the critics said no ♪
♪ I didn't know how it came So I couldn't go ♪
♪ I was third on the bill Of a second-rate show ♪
♪ The audience asked me why But I didn't know ♪
♪ Ho-ho, my predicament grew ♪
♪ But now I got friends And I think that my friends are you ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
A discovery so grim, it was almost beyond belief.
Whoa!
♪ You know, I looked around For faces I'd know ♪
♪ I fell in love With the people in the front row… ♪
-He's kind of hot, I'm not gonna lie. -He's kind of hot?
♪ Now I got friends And I think my friends are you… ♪
You get the name of the pub in?
-Stuart, mic, mic. Wait, wait, stop! -Wait!
♪ You can put me here, and I'm all yours ♪
♪ Not for the money And it's not for the applause ♪
♪ No, oh no, no, no ♪
♪ Oh yeah This progression is usually sad ♪
♪ But it felt my sorrow And I wanted it to feel me glad… ♪
Love it. Love it! Love to see it. Save.
Shot at the cops.
Shot his parents. Shot himself.
But, of course, that was just scratching the surface.
What they found underneath his farmhouse was even worse.
Fucking horrible.
Okay. Uh, can we just go back to the part where you--
What the fuck was that?
-Probably broken. Stop touching it! -Ambulance is on the way.
-You'll be all right, Mr. King. -Fuck off me! You fuck off, you parasite!
You fucking insect!
Why dig around? It's done.
It was a thing that fucking happened, and you're here fucking pulling it all up.
And for what, eh?
For what? You want a fucking award? A pat on the back?
Ignore him. He's off his heid.
-I'll wait outside for the ambulance. -Off you go. I can handle this prick.
What's your fucking problem?
Iain Adair was an arsehole. Can I say that?
A term like "sadist" is probably better.
Right.
-Well, he was a sadist. That's for sure. -You okay?
An Olympic-level…
…cunt-apathic mad man.
Just thinking, if you're staying on for a few days,
I could do my shepherd's pie.
But, Pia, I'm not sure if you eat meat.
I do meat.
Okay.
Anything else, Mum?
No, no. I can see you're very busy.
That's Stuart.
Richard's boy.
Aye.
What is it you're working on?
We're doing a documentary
about what… happened.
Iain Adair and all that.
Not about your man and the eggs?
Uh, no.
You'll explain what he did to your father?
-Only if you want us to. -Oh, I want you to.
People should know. Everyone should know.
My Kenny died because of that man.
If Iain Adair was still alive,
I'd wring his neck myself with these hands. I would.
We were happy before he broke it all.
Ruined it all.
Such a stupid man.
Just the waste of it.
I'm sorry.
It's okay, Mum.
If there's anything you want me to help with,
just ask.
-Yeah? -Clap.
There we go.
Do I need to do that too?
Oh, no. You're okay.
I'll… I'll ask questions, and you just answer as yourself. As you.
As me?
Uh,
just talk loosely about the case.
Loosely? Like, relaxed?
No.
Been years since I was in front of any kind of camera at all.
Last time would've been that old one your dad had.
-But your dad never had all this stuff. -He wasn't filming for broadcast, Mum.
Can you imagine?
So, what do you think?
Well, it's a fascinating case.
Iain Adair, I mean, I'd heard of him.
But he's not as well-known as a Ted Bundy or a Fred West.
So… …if we take this anywhere,
the first question any platform, network, whatever, is gonna ask is,
"What's the hook?"
What's the context?
There is a personal angle. I mean, his dad was one of the victims.
Uh, yeah. He… he was a policeman. He was shot at the farm.
So, he was murdered?
He died later.
Of his injuries or…
Not directly, but… but… but basically, yeah.
But he was one of the victims.
-Mm. -This gives him a voice.
And, you know, that's important to me, you know, as a…
as a son.
I think definitely explore the personal angle,
see what there is in it.
But, um, can you get hold of any new material?
Police interviews, diaries, that kind of thing.
We can look into those.
Something unseen, unheard, unexplored is what you need.
What about the house itself and the dungeon?
-It's still there. -And you have access?
Yes.
Absolutely.
So, how come you're using this old thing?
Uh, the police forensics shot on tape back then.
Plus, old tech, cool analog horror atmosphere.
Proper Blair Witch.
Could you do that a bit more quietly?
Aye, I'll put the crowbar on whisper mode.
Okay.
Oh my God.
Okay.
♪ Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you? ♪
-This is not recording. -Uh…
Ah, uh, yeah. Tab's punched out.
It stops people recording over it.
-Open up. -We're taping over Bergerac?
-Mum won't notice. -Let's hope not.
Boo!
Jesus Christ.
Oh!
I found the door to fucking hell.
I'll get a light up.
Is that your stage-blood mix?
That is still in the bag. This is lemon juice.
-Uh, what's that for? -Shows up under black light.
-Like piss and blood and spunk and-- -Okay, okay, okay.
I'll just drip a wee bit down here
like Adair jizzed while slitting someone's throat.
Fucking hell, Stuart.
Lights off, please.
And then…
Fucking hell.
I, uh…
don't think we need the lemon juice.
Jesus Christ.
All right, let's get to work.
That was fucking creepy.
Feel like I've had spiders crawling over my brain.
Have you never been in a death dungeon? No, I find it quite relaxing.
That might be a tourist draw in itself, actually.
Good luck advertising that.
"Come spend the night in the dungeon."
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ You'll suffer sex atrocities ♪
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ He'll have you weeping on your knees ♪
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ He'll tie your hands Behind your back ♪
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ And shove a bottle up your crack ♪
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ He'll break your elbows with a rock ♪
♪ In the dungeon ♪
♪ And glue sultanas to your cock ♪
-What? -What?
It's the kind of weird sex thing he probably did.
No, no, gluing sultanas to someone's cock is not a plausible kink--
Look out!
I'm sorry.
For what?
For not looking where I was going.
You're likely still concussed, so we have to keep you in for observation.
Be on the safe side.
She knows her stuff.
Look at her. She's a doctor.
Davis's driving, eh?
And you and me both been in the fucking wars.
You're the lucky one, no?
No wanking for me for a month.
Least you can draw that curtain round and tug yourself into a coma, eh?
Right. Sparkling conversation as always, Dad. Get well soon, eh?
-Aye, son. -Uh-huh.
Any chance of a lift home?
Of course.
You rest up.
-Bye, now. -Bye.
I'll put that shepherd's pie on.
-Just for us girls. -It's fine. I have stuff to digitize.
-I can just-- -You need to eat, dear.
Honestly, it's no fuss.
Thank you.
I'm gonna start from here, and then you guys just stand around
and look like you're examining stuff.
-Good? -Yeah.
All right, okay, fine.
And I've seen CSI, so…
I'm gonna come over your shoulder here.
Yeah, that looks good.
Maybe could you guys, like, um, cross each other's frame a little bit
so you look busy, like maybe there's more people?
Mr. King?
It's freezing in here.
Real forensics people don't moan about the cold while they work, do they?
-Yeah, that's good. Thank you. -Of course.
Sorry, uh…
What do you want?
You have to stop your film.
Why?
I don't have any proof.
Of what?
I think I've always known.
Known what?
Great. All right, that should do it.
And Bergerac returns at the same time next week on UK Gold.
Up next, trouble for Jacko--
All right. Okay, is this thing on?
Ah, Iain.
Yeah. What day we on now, Iain?
Iain?
I believe it's day nine.
Can you take this over?
Hurry up.
Okay, as you can see, our guests are still delighted to be here.
-Aren't they? -Aye, Kenny. Over the moon.
And it's a big treat today
because the mistress is gonna have fun with the both of you.
-How does that sound? -Does that sound like fun?
Aye, Kenny.
You can come on in, Janet.
-♪ I slam the door ♪ -♪ Boom ♪
-♪ When I come into the bedroom ♪ -♪ Wham, bam ♪
-♪ 'Cause I'm the king of the castle ♪ -♪ Na-na-na ♪
-♪ Turn me on, turn me loose ♪ -♪ Come on, come on ♪
♪ Try to hit it, it's a hassle ♪
♪ Come get some of this Don't forget the innuendo ♪
♪ Play me like Nintendo Never ever let go ♪
♪ Keep it so loud You'll be hittin' the crescendo ♪
♪ Do-Re-Mi-Fa-So-La-Ti-Do… ♪
Shepherd's pie.
Mm-hmm.
Shepherd's pie. It's ready.
Right.
I'll plate up.
Ken gave me that.
We had such fun together.
-Everything all right? -Yes. I need the bathroom.
Come on. Come on.
Come on.
Fuck.
Are you sure you're okay, dear?
I'm just stepping out.
Out? Right now?
Yes, I just feel cooped up. A little walk. Clear my head.
Are you sure everything's all right?
I'm fine, really. I… I won't be a minute.
Shit. Come on. Come on.
Maybe the crash gave you a shock, dear.
-You'll catch cold out here. -I'm fine.
-You should get in. -No!
Get in the car!
You come back now!
I won't hurt you!
No.
Cunt!
Fuck!
Cunt! Cunt!
Fuck! Cunt! Cunt! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Fuck!
So, tell us about the film you were making.
Pia.
Oh, lovely.
It's four days since Dawn and Simon Challis
were last seen alive
in the tourist hotspot of Loch Henry.
Been years since I was in front of any kind of camera at all.
You can come in now, Janet.
Sorry.
Years ago, I spent a night with Kenny and Janet
and got carried away into adult stuff.
You know, sex games.
I was married.
The way they behaved that night, the whole experience,
made me think that maybe Iain Adair hadn't acted alone.
Police have announced shocking new discoveries
about the notorious Loch Henry murders of the 1990s.
For years, it was thought Iain Adair acted alone.
In fact, he'd been under the guidance of local officer Kenneth McCardle
and his wife, Janet.
McCardle shot the Adairs dead,
deliberately wounding himself to cover up his role in the slaughter.
The woman who hid the secret
of her and her husband's part in the crimes killed herself…
…after leaving recordings of the murders where her son would find them.
But your dad never had all this stuff.
He wasn't filming for broadcast, Mum.
Can you imagine?
And so, to honor this year's documentaries,
please welcome Kirsty Wark.
Hey, quiet down! This is us. This is the bit.
The nominees for best factual series are…
Suffer The Children: The Tipley Pedophile Ring.
Loch Henry: Truth Will Out.
Yes!
Euthanasia: Inside Project Junipero.
And the BAFTA goes to…
Loch Henry.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Come on!
Yes!
Also, our fabulous post-house, Cart Before Horse.
And, of course, the most important person on the stage,
who allowed us to tell his story.
I'd like to dedicate this award to Davis McCardle
and to his late girlfriend, Pia.
Ugh. There's that actress from that comedy about the bipolar single mum
who fucking cries all the time.
Tell us a joke, love.
Shit, she's coming over.
Can I just say, I love you.
And your show was sublime.
Oh, thank you.
Um, are you the Loch Henry guy?
Oh my God.
I am not worthy.
Such an incredible piece of work.
Thank you.
Kate Cezar, Historik.
We are actually developing a drama based on the whole thing.
-Okay. -We will be looking for a Pia.
-That's all I'm saying. -Wow, that is interesting.
Well done, you bastard!
It's the red carpet for you, eh?
We've been booked up for weeks, pal. Listen to how packed it is.
Seriously, I just want to say--