Time Addicts (2023)
Posted: 03/04/24 21:09
- I didn't even feel
it land.
About a hundred and sixty
millimetre suspension travel.
20% sag.
- You're 20% sag.
- This one.
Someone's cut they don't have
the sort of suspension specs
required for modern urban
mobility.
- Yeah?
Well, you forgot one major spec.
- Oh yeah? What's that?
- That it's stolen.
You're a scumbag thief.
- Jealousy is but an ugly
shade on you, Denise.
Pack us a bowl then.
What? You smoked it all?
- Oh, yeah, it was all me.
- Well, we'll have to get
a re-up off Kane then.
- Well, isn't there anyone else?
- I'll just go. I'll be quick.
- What? By yourself?
Like, without me?
- What?
You can't last half an hour?
- It's just that it's a bit
weird, no?
Like, what am I supposed to do?
Hang out here? Like, alone?
- Whatever.
- Did you square
Kane up for the tic?
- I'm offended you even had to
ask that.
- Well, it's just that
he doesn't f*ck around.
Remember when he scalped
Hairline Hayden
for losing his bag of pingers?
- Ah, yeah.
- You didn't square him up, did
you?
- Well, no.
But I'm still offended
that you had to ask.
- Oh, f*cking hell!
- You just looked the snake
right in his dead, little eyes,
and you just said,
"Please, sir, can I
have some f*ckin' more?"
Then you thank thy starry
moon for thou crystal beans,
you beautiful little c**t.
And that's it.
- You here to
square me up, brother?
- Square you up for what?
Ah, yeah, that.
Yeah, for sure, lad.
Just need a coup...
Oh, here we go.
Does anyone else smell cargo
shorts?
Excuse me, sir.
This definitely
not-a-f*cking-cop
would love to buy some
of your finest dr*gs.
- Oh, f*ck off. I'm no copper.
- Oh.
- What are you after?
- Um...
A point would get me through,
aye?
Just put a girl on tic, would
ya?
- Why haven't you returned my
calls?
I f*ckin' missed you.
Hm?
- Get a life, Johnny.
You fuckwit.
- Thanks for keeping our
streets safe, Cunstable.
You f*ckin' mutt!
Maybe I could leave my new bike
with you,
like collateral and that, you
know?
- Nah, that's not gonna work
for me.
- Right.
Well, what are my options then?
Like fiscally, you know?
- How attached are you to
your two little thumbs there?
- Whoa, what? Just me?
What about her?
- What? Johnny!
You were the one that said
it was your f*ckin' shout.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah,
but I'm no good for it.
I mean, I'm never f*ckin' good
for it,
but I'm equally as f*ckin'
generous.
Hey mate, how's your weekend?
Yeah, f*ckin' good, wasn't it?
- Well, is there anything
we can do to like,
buy us more time?
- Funny you say that.
I got a job later today
that a couple of heads
just bailed on.
Could use some capable
hands like yourselves,
to assist with operations and
that.
- We'll do it.
- Well, hang on.
- What's the job?
- A heist, nearby. Real low key.
Meet me at the dumpling joint
in 20 and I'll fill you in.
- No, we're not gonna...
- And I'm holding you
personally responsible,
seeing as you're the one
pushing for more time.
- Makes sense.
- Mm.
- Well, we'll hear you out,
but we're not making any
promises.
- It's basically a promise.
So now that we're colleagues
and all,
could I get a little top up on
tic, bruh?
- Hurry up, goose!
- I mean, all I'm saying
is sure, put on a uniform,
at least make it obvious
that you're a f*ckin' scumbag
copper.
But to lie and deceive
the hard-working public,
I mean, that's a f*cking dog
act.
I mean, I just wonder what sort
of legacy
these undercovers are leaving,
you know?
Like, what that must do to a
family.
Cycles of abuse and all that
shit-
- Can we change the subject?
- Actually, there is a
subject I have in mind
to be broached.
- Broached isn't even a word.
And what are we supposed
to be? Thieves for hire?
- Ah, yeah.
And you're up on a very high
f*ckin' horse
for someone with light f*ckin'
fingers.
- Well, I'm not signing
up until I know who it is
that we're meant to be
appropriating.
- What does that matter?
- Ah, I don't know.
What if he's a lunatic?
What if he's holed up somewhere,
and he's jerking off to the
pictures
on the side of ciggy packets or
some shit?
- Are you f*ckin' all right?
- Time to go.
- We're not in yet.
We need to hear your pitch.
You know, official and that.
- It's easy.
Once you're inside,
you'll find a duffel bag.
You grab it, and bounce the
same way that you came in.
- What's in the bag?
- Does Gary from the Apple store
ask Fiona f*ckin' Apple
what's in the new iPhone?
No.
- And the mark. What's his deal?
- Time to go.
- Oh, f*ck this.
It sounds like amateur night.
I'm out.
- You owe me.
- You know what?
You can f*ckin' take my thumbs.
I don't even use 'em that much
anyway.
- You want to talk some sense
into your girl here, brother?
I take what's owed.
- Come on, man.
You know how much I love
playing FIFA.
What are you gonna do?
Just go home and hang out by
yourself?
- Yeah, I just might.
- Ah!
The guy is unhinged, all right.
It's all real horror show.
But none of that shit matters,
because you two dickheads
will be in and out
before he wakes up.
Debt paid.
- I want your bike.
Yeah, as payment.
- Fine, you f*ckin' thief.
And I don't want the attitude!
- Well, unfortunately it
comes with the f*ckin' bike.
- Yeah, we don't have time
for these little soap operas,
all right?
f*ckin' junkies.
Your reputation-
- Precedes me, yeah,
yeah, yeah.
- You'll go in through the
bathroom window
at the back of the house.
This is the only way in or out.
The rest of the house is
barred and boarded up.
Just get the bag, brother.
Or the debt doubles.
- Like toes, brah?
- Uh huh. Chop, chop.
And don't go thinking about
smoking
any of the shards that you find.
- Why?
Oh, yeah, I mean, of course not.
- Rumour is this one brother
smoked it,
and wasn't seen again.
Then his boys found a picture
of him
panning for gold in a textbook.
But I mean, probably bullshit,
right?
How past cooked is the kick-on
if you're breaking out the
textbooks?
- Yeah.
None of that sounds
interesting to me at all.
- Ah...
Bingo.
- Do you have to do that now?
What if this dumb c**t wakes up?
- Well, gotta stay prolific,
you know.
If a tree gets up in
the woods and all that.
Oy, new tag.
- "Pack"?
- Yeah, because I pack the pipe
so tight.
Oh, so you know Jazzo, yeah?
- Tall Jazzo?
- Yeah, so, he's a dog.
So him and Cakes were in China,
right?
And they go to the Great Wall.
I mean, as one does
when visiting the west.
And Jazzo's all like,
"This is the most famous wall
in the whole f*ckin' world.
I mean, it would be toy
to get up on this shit.
So, you know, he pulls
out a red spray can,
and just starts f*ckin'
getting up, because I mean,
say what you want about him,
but the c**t is f*ckin'
culturally sensitive.
- Are you f*cking serious?
We've gotta move. Hurry up!
- But then the People's
Litigation Army guys
started chasing 'em,
and they f*ckin' ran Cakes down.
But you know, Jazzo, he's
f*ckin' mad spritely.
I mean, he scaled down
a broken part of the wall into
Mongolia.
He hid out in yurts for a
f*ckin' month just eating goats
while Cakes rotted in
the gulags, or whatever.
f*ck, it's so windy.
Oy!
Ah, f*ck.
Ugh.
Oy, Dee!
f*cking calm down, all right?
f*ck!
- We're a long way from
the Macca's toilets.
- Yeah.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
- What sort of lukewarm
apricot yoghurt eating freak...
- Yeah, it's post-modern, aye.
- I don't know, man.
There must be like a thousand
other bags full of gear
in the city that are easier to
steal.
This all just feels a bit off.
f*ck it.
Give me a boost. Let's bail.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?
You don't trust Kane?
- No, I don't trust the drug
dealer that scalps people,
and he's always looking at me
weird.
I don't like it.
- That's just how he looks, lad.
"Get the bag, brother.
Or the debt f*ckin' doubles,
yeah?"
Come on, it'll be like the
time we hit the donut place.
- And fittingly left with
nothing.
- This time we'll be leaving
with these dumb little c**ts,
yeah?
- This feels like fairytales
for c**ts.
Pretty sure these weren't here
before.
- Oh, probably just trapped
animals or something.
- Human sized blood covered
animals.
f*cking great.
Who sawed off what in here?
- I think we have some
more pressing issues
than the mystery blood.
- What?
We're f*cked!
I'm f*cked!
This is what I get for
babysitting.
You always do this.
- Oy, me? What did I
f*ckin' do?
- You f*ck
up! You always f*ck up!
That should be your name,
"Fuckup".
- How is this my f*ckin' fault,
huh?
- Because, Fuckup, you were the
one
that agreed to take the job.
- Just stop f*ckin' calling
me a f*ck up, all right?
- Yeah?
Well, the truth is, that
you're not only a f*ck up,
but also a dog.
- How f*ckin' dare you!
Only a real undercover dog
would call their best mate a
dog.
- Well, I know what you did.
I know your deep, dark secret.
- I know yours.
Hm? Hm?
f*ck this! f*ck it all!
f*ckin' do it yourself,
f*ckin' piece of shit.
Call me a f*ckin' dog?
Pack '95.
Textbooks.
What do they say again?
Regrets are like a dead
samurai's sheathed blade."
- No one says that, idiot.
- I thought I'd just do my due
diligence
and test the f*cking gear, yeah?
- Always a martyr.
- Well, I'm glad you can see my
position.
- You know, if we get outta
here,
I really just wish that you
would f*ck off
outta my life forever.
- I'm only in your
f*ckin' life as a favour.
I'm a lone f*ckin' wolf.
- What a joke!
You literally follow me around
every day.
- It's all very biblical, isn't
it?
You know, packing a pipe
and packing a punch.
f*ckin' society's coming at ya,
and I've got my f*ckin' mitts
up,
because that's the way it is,
isn't it?
It's a f*ckin' w*r on your
f*ckin' mind.
I mean, they're all just
f*ckin' dogs, aren't they?
Ruff, you know, ruff.
You know, f*ckin' bit of that.
f*ckin' slithery little f*ckin'
snakes.
- Johnny?
What the f*ck?
- Look, I'll pardon all the
f*ck ups
if you just come back right now!
Pardon f*ckin' revoked.
- And now you're finally here!
Oh, his favourite day of the
year.
Oh, I can tell you...
How this story ends...
It ends in blood.
- Johnny?
- Ah.
Ugh.
Ugh.
Ugh.
Yeah.
Pretty good shit.
- October 2nd.
Damo and Keithie drive
truck cross country.
October 13th, shipment
lands off the coast.
West Coast Syndicate ride
jet skis out to collect.
July 25th, Netsy closes deal in
Jakarta.
May 19th Netsy travels to
Bali for first meeting...
What?
- Jimmy.
- What?
- Don't say what.
- But I don't have any
homework.
- Bingo.
I met Malcolm Netson outside a
nightclub
on the 20th of July, 1993.
Now, if took me just
under three more months
to get any intro to the rest of
them.
Ratbags and cohorts.
Whatever you want to call them.
- 1995.
Lone motherfuckin' wolf.
- Now, it's all
hearsay.
Tampering, no.
f*ckin' no with the
tampering, Your Honour.
I wouldn't even know how!
Okay?
Now, no, Your Honour.
Yes, Your Honour.
Three bags f*ckin' full, Your
Honour.
- Oh, yes.
Always know a head
when I see one.
Who needs a f*ckin' sidekick
anyway?
Nice one, Johnny.
Another day, another f*ckin'
win, you f*ckin' hero.
f*ck yes.
Just a little f*ckin' kiss.
A f*ckin' cop.
I can't escape these c**ts.
I just attract dogs.
I'm a f*ckin' dog whistle.
Yeah, look at you.
Why don't you just suck a
f*ckin' dog's d*ck, you know?
Yeah, nice one, Johnny.
Just walking your f*ckin'
little poodle-y boys,
and here comes the f*ckin'-
- Well, well, well.
What do we have here?
Huh?
A sneaky little coke whore.
- I just-
- Just what?
Hm?
You one of the Reaper boys?
Did he send you to try
and finish me off, aye?
- I don't know of, um...
Any Reapers.
- Yeah, I believe you.
You don't f*ckin' have
that outlaw look, do ya?
- Whatever.
Look, I was just about
to bounce, all right?
So don't have a blowout, I
know you're a cop and all.
- An undercover cop.
- f*cking, of course.
No, but seriously, I mean,
I really respect you guys.
I mean, you're like real
essential fillers
to the community and all that
shit.
f*ck, you know. I can't f*ckin'
do it.
Nothing personal, but
you guys are a real bunch
of f*ckin' sneaky dog c**ts,
all right?
But I repeat, you know, like
nothing f*ckin' personal.
Yeah?
Oh, f*ck, please.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I hate you,
it's just that we're
like natural adversaries
and that, you know?
Sick c**ts and f*ckin' pig dogs.
I mean, it's just the way
it's always f*ckin' been, man.
Maybe I hate myself a little
too.
- Can we maybe do this
without the g*n to my head?
- No, it's the f*ckin' g*n or
nothing.
- Always a martyr.
- What the f*ck?
- I guess I should like, give
you some advice or something.
But we don't have time.
- I don't understand.
- You're
just gonna have to trust me.
- What the f*ck is going on?
- I'm gonna get us out of this.
Just keep the door shut,
and make sure he's not coming.
- I can't believe that dog
c**t stitched me up like this.
I knew I shouldn't have listened
to that scumbag f*ck up.
Classic dog move.
Johnny always sh1tting the
carpet
and leaving me with a bag to
clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're
talking about.
You're outta line, young lady.
You know, Johnny might be a
f*ck up,
but he was there when you
needed someone.
- Wait. What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
- f*cking great.
- An amalgamation of
all of your life's decisions
have brought you here.
Brought you to him.
Your life is nothing
more than an equation.
Decisions over time,
finally producing a
quantifiable result.
- f*cking maths.
- And then you just stop
existing.
Tick f*cking tock.
Out of time.
You just...
Disappear.
- Disappear?
That b*tch took my pipe!
- "D . Trapped in '95.
Pack."
If you can't do the time, then
don't do the f*cking crime.
Dumb-ass.
- I can't think of the
name.
- 2053.
- f*ck.
f*ckin' stuck here with an
undercover cop.
They're always trying to nab
all city f*ckin' legends like me
just for f*ckin' gettin' up.
Gettin' up.
That's it.
f*ckin' gettin' up.
- What are you doin'?
Hm? You sneakin' about?
- Oh, no. I was...
I was just admiring this
painting.
Is it a DiCaprio?
- I got a lot of pricks after
me,
and I thought someone had
broken in.
- Let's just go back to bed, eh?
- You trying to leave me?
- No.
I mean, unless you want me to.
- Everyone always tries to
leave.
- Oh...
That's not good.
- I saw some crazy shit
when I was undercover that last
time.
The group I was with,
they used to make young
women play Russian Roulette
with their hand in a blender.
I mean, just for a gram
of goey and a laugh.
And they was kinda like family
to me.
But I knew it had to end,
so I brought the whole
f*ckin' lot of them down.
You know, get them
before they could get me.
One step ahead.
- Well, I'm not going anywhere.
Like, ever.
- Good.
- Yeah.
f*ckin' hurry up, Denise.
- What was that?
- I was just saying, I
think it might be a Matisse.
- Grab the blender from the
kitchen
on your way back to bed, yeah?
- f*ck.
- He will be back soon.
I'm sure he'll be excited
you're here.
And on his favourite day
of the year, a day of love,
I wonder if he will steal your
heart.
- What the f*ck?
What the f*ck?
What year is it?
- 2053.
- How'd I get here?
- A temporal narcotic.
- Where can I find more of it?
Where's all the rest of it?
- When I need to find
something,
I think about where I last saw
it.
- I had it...
Back in the present.
I reckon I'll be off then.
You know, before he gets back.
- I wouldn't go outside
without respiratory and skin
protection.
- What?
- The current
temperature
is 51 degrees Celsius.
Radiation is over 100
millisieverts.
Riots continue, meaning chances
of a v*olence incited injury
are above 20%.
- You're 20% chance of a
v*olence incited injury.
- It's not safe for you
out there.
- What do you want with all
these b*tches?
And most importantly, what
do you want with this b*tch?
How does all this time travel
shit work?
How how'd I get here?
- The drug deconstructs
you down,
and then rebuilds you back up
again
in the time you most recently
thought of.
Your consciousness and
subconsciousness
create a quantum tunnel
for you to travel through.
- Right, yeah.
Quantums and all that shit.
- Now I know you're the
one
I've been searching for.
It's finally time.
- Time for what?
- Sedate!
- Initiating
Carfentanil.
- Found you.
- ... you
were the one that agreed
to take the job.
- I thought it was only
polite to meet you back here,
after our little run-in
in the future and all.
I didn't even know you back
then.
- f*ckin' do it
yourself.
- Weird.
- f*ckin' piece of
shit.
- I usually don't tend
to f*ck with determinism,
but when the crystal brought
you to me,
to my time, to my home,
that was the day that you
freed me from my search.
So I traveled back and
put myself in a position
for you to be indebted to me.
Not the hardest part
of the plan, that bit.
- So you're here to k*ll me
then?
- Oh, I don't wanna k*ll you.
I want the opposite.
I want you to live.
Live here in this house,
forever.
- What?
Why?
- Because you're special.
- Wait.
What is that shit anyway?
- The crystal?
Just another psychotropic
street drug.
Rumour is, it has a foundation
of dimethyltryptamine,
engineered around 2050 in some
legal-ish
pharma-bro bio-tech lab
in Guatemala or some shit.
I knew this one brother
from my time manufacturing.
Shanked the c**t, rolled him of
his stash
before all the dogs came
through to shut it down.
- What made you so cooked?
What a joke...
you literally follow me around
every day.
- You just can't f*cking
help yourself, can you?
- Well, I mean, nothing
personal or anything.
But yeah, you are a few
nuggets short of a combo.
- That's Johnny, destined for
the past.
I might pay him a visit, cut
him open.
See what makes him tick.
My guess is just choccy
milk and barbiturates.
- Don't.
Just leave the goose there.
He's not hurting anyone.
- Isn't he?
Not for you to worry about, is
it?
Can't let your past dictate
your future and all that.
Time to go to work, c**t.
Someone's here.
And they got the duffel bag.
Ooh.
Now be a good boy and fetch it
for me.
- Fetch, boy.
- Johnny?
- What the f*ck is going on?
- Just keep the door shut.
And make sure he's not coming.
- Can't believe that dog c**t
stitched me up like this.
Johnny always sh1tting the
carpet
and leaving me with a bag to
clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're
talking about.
You know, Johnny might be a
f*ck up,
but he was there when you
needed someone.
- Wait.
What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
Johnny!
What the f*ck are you wearing?
- What am I wearing?
I've been living here for
f*ckin' months.
The bird who lives here
is some ex-undercover dog
c**t copper psychotic nut job
who consistently
threatens my f*ckin' life.
It's emasculatory.
And here you are worried about
what I'm f*ckin' wearing?
- Hold up!
I'm here to rescue you, aren't
I?
I don't get a thank you?
No, "I'm sorry for leaving you
in the creepy nightmare house
alone?"
I mean, what exactly is the
problem here?
- That's the f*ckin' problem.
- Who the f*ck is this dumb
sl*t, hm?
I got a f*ckin' word of
warning for you, yeah.
He is a top shelf f*ckin'
dropkick, but dead set,
he's my top shelf f*ckin'
dropkick.
- You're so young.
- What?
- So alive.
- Uh, what
are you going on about?
- She's my mum.
- Look, I don't know what kind
of f*ckin'
sick game you're playing here,
lady,
but you can't just f*ckin'
waltz into someone's home
and try and steal their f*ckin'
man.
Even if he is about as
useful as a kindergarten
in the f*ckin' Vatican.
Aren't ya? Aren't ya?
- Well, I mean, you know,
maybe she's not your mum.
You know, my mate Wayno thought
his mum was his grandmother.
Turns out like, she was just
mad old,
so his sister had to
breastfeed him and shit.
- She's my f*ckin' mum, all
right?
- Well, I mean, you don't
seem very f*ckin' happy
to see her now, do you?
- Yeah, well, it's not
my fault that she like,
started a fight with me,
and then, like, died.
Is it?
- You know, if you'd just
come here in February
like I f*ckin' told you to,
we wouldn't have to deal with
all this f*ckin'
intergenerational
bullshit, would we?
- Well, your stupid message
didn't exactly go the distance.
Another successful Johnny
scheme.
Two severed thumbs up, genius.
- I went the distance with your
mum.
- Watch your f*ckin'
mouth.
- I'll f*ckin'
watch my mouth, all right?
- Wait.
If it's November '95, then
that thing in there...
Is me.
And that...
That makes you my dad.
- Hang on, what the
f*ck is happening here?
Huh?
- What's happening is that me,
and this literal mother fucker,
are walking outside this dump,
and going back to where we came
from,
and we'll never discuss this
shit again.
- Yeah, like f*ck you are.
This f*ckin' loser?
You f*ckin' come in here,
you f*ckin' knock me up,
and then get off scot-free?
I don't f*ckin' think so.
You f*ckin' owe me.
- Oh, you wanna weigh in here,
Dad?
- Well, I mean, I can't have a
daughter
who's a f*ck up like you.
I mean, it doesn't make any
sense.
You don't have any of my
spirited charm or ambition.
- Well, you know what, dickhead?
You can f*ckin' stay here then.
Yeah, I knew that I
shouldn't come back for you.
- f*ckin' hang on, f*ckin' hang
on.
Are you saying f*ckin'
February 14th, 2022?
You have been going on about
that date
ever since you got here.
So what, you're saying all
that...
All that f*ckin' rubbish
about...
Ah!
Are you saying that that is
f*ckin' true?
- You don't need to
worry about any of that.
You just need to stay here,
and pop that thing out,
and don't go f*ckin' anywhere.
Like you're grounded.
Yeah, you love groundings,
as I seem to remember.
- Hang on a second.
If this tuckies your mom,
then that means you've got cop
blood.
Oh, Denise.
No wonder you put me on the dog.
I cannot be involved with a cop
family.
I mean, I've got a reputation
to think of.
- And it's because of that
selfish f*ckin' attitude
that I grew up without a dad.
I should've known you'd be the
kind of loser absent father
who would go out for some
smokes,
and leave me and my mom
to fend for ourselves.
- What are you talking about?
I pretty much did raise you.
I mean, you've got no idea
the amount of brain space
I could like, free up,
if I wasn't storing knowledge
for you.
- I know your secret.
- Oh, yeah?
What f*ckin' secret?
- I know that that whole
Jazzo in Mongolia story is
bullshit.
And I know why you went around
telling everyone he's a dog.
The real story is that you got
picked up
graffing by an undercover,
and you snitched on Jazzo.
Just like the-
- Don't f*ckin' say it.
- Dog that you are.
- You want to talk about
secrets, Denise?
I mean, baggy jumpers only
work for so long, man.
We all know you popped out
Danny Handjob's kid last year.
I mean, it's in his f*ckin'
name, Denise.
You don't have to f*ck him.
What the f*ck!
f*ckin'...
- f*ck!
- You two wanna f*ck
around and play games?
f*ckin' be my guest, yeah.
I need a fresh bloody start,
and I'm f*ckin' sick of
looking over my shoulder,
and I am f*ckin' especially
sick of cohabitation with you,
you f*ckin' dickhead!
f*ckin' bingo.
Oh.
- No!
- What a scumbag thief, aye?
Like mother, like daughter, I
guess.
Cup of tea?
- We need to get her back.
Think.
- We live here now.
Best not to go on about it too
much.
- But if she gives birth
to me in a different time,
then who is giving birth to me
now?
I'll cease to exist.
- I can't help but feel partly
to blame.
- Well, we can't worry about
that now.
We need to get her
back, before she like...
Births me.
- But when is she?
- I know when.
I heard her scream.
- What's happening,
losers?
- Oh, you know, not much,
just been banging Denise's mom.
- Ha, just the usual then.
Denise?
You got something that's mine?
Where's my gear?
Oh.
Don't go all idiot on me again,
Johnny.
I mean, I know that's
really asking something.
- Well, it's just that...
You know, I've got a
family to support now,
so the way I see it is,
finders f*ckin' keepers, aye?
- You don't have to do this,
Johnny.
- Yeah, I probably should
though.
- It's a bit late for the
whole Mr. Responsibility act.
I mean, you did ruin my f*ckin'
life.
- I barely know you, bro.
- Grow up, fuckhead.
- Leave him alone!
- I didn't think...
You had that in you, brother.
- I guess we should
like, k*ll him or something?
- All right, let's f*cking do
this.
- Don't do it.
Drop the knife.
- Don't listen to her, Johnny.
She's tried to screw me over
before.
- Now slowly go over and
check Kane for more vials.
Take one, give the rest to me.
And you stay where you f*ckin'
are.
And give that one to her.
- What the f*ck is
going on?
- I wish I could tell you,
but you're not ready for
what needs to be done.
- Well you're not much
f*ckin' help, are ya?
- Well, if you expect better
from me,
then change better, b*tch!
It's time for you to go get our
mum.
- What about Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to f*ckin' stare?
- Oh, it's coming!
- You're hitting this god damn
bowl
and going back to where you
came from.
- No, I'm not! I won't go back!
- f*cking hell, Mum!
You're stubborn as bloody
Johnny!
- I can't go back!
- Why?
- Because it's not a real life!
Johnny's gonna f*ckin' leave me!
I am paranoid them Reapers
are gonna come knocking
every f*ckin' day.
And I didn't even want a kid,
but now that I don't have a
choice,
I want it to have a life that
it doesn't just waste away!
I mean, my baby could grow up
here, right?
f*ckin', it's shit, it is shit,
but it's f*ckin' all right.
- This place is a f*cking
sh*thole.
The whole world in this
time is a f*cking sh*thole.
- Yeah, but it's a
sh*thole where I'm free.
'Cause I can't f*ckin' take it
anymore.
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, all right?
I'm sorry for all the years of
hell
that I'm gonna put you through.
And I'm really sorry
about your boyfriend Flaco
that I like, banged this one
time.
- Flaco's a f*cking shit name!
- And I'm mostly sorry
for my part that I play
in the fight that we have.
But if you don't smoke this and
go back,
then she'll never get the
chance to try and be better.
Do the right thing by the kid,
you reckon?
Okay.
- Just be patient with her.
She can be kind of useless at
times.
- Yeah, well, she probably
gets that from her father,
because he's a f*cking dickhead!
I mean, what kind of idiot is
watching
Saturday morning f*ckin'
cartoons!
- Kane?
- I was...
- You were the one in here
holding the bag for younger Kane
this whole time.
- We all owe our past
just one more chance.
That crazy b*tch shot me.
She always did have a
proclivity to overreact.
- Proclivity's not a...
You knew her?
- And you, briefly, when you
were little.
Nothing but regrets, this stuff.
- Sounds like a bit of a
one-way street with your past.
Can't all just be favours, can
it?
I mean, when does it end?
- Everything ends, love.
Tick f*cking tock.
- You once said that
you shouldn't let our past
control our future.
- Maybe once upon a time I had
a point.
My life would be so much easier
if you just didn't exist.
- Wait.
Why'd you say that?
This feels like fairytales for
c**ts.
- No more regrets.
Tick f*cking tock.
f*cking hell!
f*cking hell!
Just hook a girl up with
one shard, f*cking hell!
Stupid thing!
I think it's time to start
having
some hard talks with yourself,
Denise.
For starters, I'm thinking
you might have a drug problem.
- Didn't know you
had that in you, brother.
- I guess we
should we like,
k*ll him or something?
- All right, let's
f*cking do this!
- Don't do it!
Drop the knife.
Now slowly go over and
check Kane for more vials.
And you stay where you f*ckin'
are.
- What
the f*ck is going on?
- Well if you expect better
from me,
then change better, b*tch.
Now it's time for you to go get
our mum.
- What about
Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't
anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to f*cking stare?
- So you're like my kid,
and you've been looking for me.
That's what all those photos
of the other women were.
People you thought might've
been your mum?
Well, if I give you one of
these, will you let us go?
Will you let Johnny live?
- Time could end and I'd
keep hunting that prick down.
- I don't need a f*ckin'
sympathy pardon.
I don't see what the problem is.
Just sh**t the c**t, right
in the f*ckin' temple!
- I can't do that.
- Why not?
He literally just said
he's gonna hunt me down.
- Here, I'll f*ckin' do it.
- I know he's not making
a great case for himself,
but it's not his fault, you
know?
Me leaving you.
- No, it f*cking was.
- You know, back when I was a
teenager,
I always used to rack the
nangs from the kitchen
to get high.
- Yeah, f*ckin' sick.
- Yeah.
They're like the little nitrous
canisters
that you chuck in the whipped
cream.
- Yeah, I know what f*ckin'
nangs are.
- Yeah.
My mom used to put whipped cream
on her low expresso martinis,
and one day she really lost it.
She came storming into
my room screaming at me
for stealing all the nangs.
Now...
I was fairly cooked,
so I might have laughed a
little too hard.
- Is there a point to all of
this?
- Yeah.
She said...
"My life would be so much
easier if you didn't exist."
And then she left.
You know, but I wasn't the
one that stopped existing.
She was.
Some old g*ng member she put
away,
saw her at the shops, k*lled
her.
Buying more nangs k*lled her.
I k*lled her.
Your life was better with
me not existing in it.
- How do you know?
You didn't even try.
But you can try now, you have
to.
- If you want a mom, then why
the f*ck
are you trying to lock me up?
- Because we will finally be a
family.
- That's now how family works,
dickhead.
I mean, how's the emotional
intelligence on this c**t, D?
- f*cking shut up, Johnny!
He's right.
That's not a family.
- Yeah, well, I wouldn't
f*cking know, would I?
You gave me away to spend your
life
f*cking around with this dumb
junkie c**t.
And that decision left me with
nothing.
With no one.
You left me on the steps of a
church
with just a teddy bear
like it was a f*cking Christmas
movie.
Now, make it right and sh**t
this mutt!
- Wait, Denise, come on, lad.
You're really not gonna
choose him over me, yeah?
You've gotta get outta here.
Go someplace I don't know where
you are.
This is goodbye, Johnny.
- No, f*ck that, I'm not going.
- When you found me crying
on the floor of the Macca's
toilets,
you took me under your wing.
You saved me.
Now let me save you.
- You could've saved me
by capping that deadshit.
- Mum.
I'm sorry.
I just...
I looked for you for so long.
And the more I looked,
the more Valentine's Days I was
alone.
The old man version of
me rambled on so much
it was hard to decipher what
was real
and what was just rubbish.
But he told me that you left me
here
with no crystal for 30 plus
f*ckin' years.
I didn't believe him.
I couldn't believe that you
would do that.
But he insisted.
- No.
f*ck that.
Only if I get to go home, yeah?
- You owe me!
If you won't open this door...
Then how about I go into
that other room there
and put a b*llet in your mum's
head?
- Fine, I'll tell you the truth.
I don't want you in my life.
I meant it when I said that
you were a f*ck up and a dog.
That's why I think it's
best that you just f*ck off.
Go on, get!
- f*ckin' bullshit.
- No one wants a f*cking
snitch like you in their life.
- The graff scene is all
just toys there now, anyway.
You can forget about having
my f*ckin' bike, yeah?
- No!
I just wanted to make things
right.
- Don't do it.
Don't f*ckin' run away again.
- I'm not.
- Can't think of a name.
- Denise, sounds appropriately
annoying.
- Hey...
How are you with coffee based
cocktails?
'Cause I could really,
I could use a drink.
I mean, if you could sort that
out,
I could stitch up that
little gut scratch you got.
- I'll make myself at home.
- Gonna have to f*ckin' move
house again.
- I meant it when I
said
that I'm not running anymore.
- You'll stay here? With me?
- Um...
Well, ideally, no.
But I did have an idea to
broach.
Where can I take you to get you
fixed up?
- Not where, when.
- I'm taking the
chance that you've grown a bit.
- A few decades
will do that to you.
- Oh, probably just
trapped animals or something.
- What about your past self?
- Human sized
blood covered animals.
f*cking great.
- Maybe she's got some
growing up to do too.
- No one ever tell you that
it's rude to f*cking stare?
- "Get the bag, brother."
- "Dearest Denise.
I'm not going to lie.
It's taken me a minute to write
this.
I won't tell you where I am,
but after I arrived here,
I was confronted by the
family that owned the house.
Thankfully, the patriarch
was a veterinarian
and was able to yank the slug
from my gut.
Real G shit.
Things are pretty cool here.
I ended up wifing the old man's
daughter,
so I inherited the joint.
I'm like a clerk or
something, I don't know.
c**ts can barely even
write, so I'm like a genius.
Well, considered around
average, at least.
Pretty heavy that Kane's your
kid.
Still can't believe you
f*cked Danny Handjobs though.
Classic.
I hope things worked out with
Kane.
He needs all the help he can get
after I defeated him in combat
so badly.
On that note, I'm leaving the
deeds to the house and land
in a trust for him when he
comes of age.
I feel like I owe the
young fella for the tic,
and I thought this is
what you would've wanted.
My lawyer seems to think
this kind of practise
is highly unorthodox,
given that Kane won't be born
for another 130 plus years.
I told him, "I don't
need the sermon, brother.
Just work out the particulars,
c**t."
He's got those f*ck off
mutton chop sideburns.
Anyways, f*ck him and what he
thinks.
Lawyers are all dogs anyways.
Not as bad as undercover
cops and parking inspectors,
but still.
Anyways, here's where I
broach the serious stuff.
I understand now why you sent
me away.
It took me a while to
figure out what you meant
by making things right.
What I'm trying to say is,
this is my way of trying to
make things right with us.
Since I've been here,
I've had these dreams.
You know, those kinda dreams
you have
when you first get clean.
Real f*ckin' vivid, but all
over the shop.
Like, lizards in top hats kinda
shit.
Anyways, in this one dream, we
were both these lone wolves,
but like, not alone, because
there were two of us,
like a group of wolves.
There should be a word to
describe that or something.
Anyways, I realised,
it doesn't matter that we're
not hanging out anymore.
Because time or no time,
I'm like, a part of you.
I mean, think about it.
You come from my balls, man.
This is the kind of
philosophical shit
I have time to sit around
and think about now.
We're definitely a long way
from the Macca's toilets.
Keep it real, lad.
One love.
Pack."
it land.
About a hundred and sixty
millimetre suspension travel.
20% sag.
- You're 20% sag.
- This one.
Someone's cut they don't have
the sort of suspension specs
required for modern urban
mobility.
- Yeah?
Well, you forgot one major spec.
- Oh yeah? What's that?
- That it's stolen.
You're a scumbag thief.
- Jealousy is but an ugly
shade on you, Denise.
Pack us a bowl then.
What? You smoked it all?
- Oh, yeah, it was all me.
- Well, we'll have to get
a re-up off Kane then.
- Well, isn't there anyone else?
- I'll just go. I'll be quick.
- What? By yourself?
Like, without me?
- What?
You can't last half an hour?
- It's just that it's a bit
weird, no?
Like, what am I supposed to do?
Hang out here? Like, alone?
- Whatever.
- Did you square
Kane up for the tic?
- I'm offended you even had to
ask that.
- Well, it's just that
he doesn't f*ck around.
Remember when he scalped
Hairline Hayden
for losing his bag of pingers?
- Ah, yeah.
- You didn't square him up, did
you?
- Well, no.
But I'm still offended
that you had to ask.
- Oh, f*cking hell!
- You just looked the snake
right in his dead, little eyes,
and you just said,
"Please, sir, can I
have some f*ckin' more?"
Then you thank thy starry
moon for thou crystal beans,
you beautiful little c**t.
And that's it.
- You here to
square me up, brother?
- Square you up for what?
Ah, yeah, that.
Yeah, for sure, lad.
Just need a coup...
Oh, here we go.
Does anyone else smell cargo
shorts?
Excuse me, sir.
This definitely
not-a-f*cking-cop
would love to buy some
of your finest dr*gs.
- Oh, f*ck off. I'm no copper.
- Oh.
- What are you after?
- Um...
A point would get me through,
aye?
Just put a girl on tic, would
ya?
- Why haven't you returned my
calls?
I f*ckin' missed you.
Hm?
- Get a life, Johnny.
You fuckwit.
- Thanks for keeping our
streets safe, Cunstable.
You f*ckin' mutt!
Maybe I could leave my new bike
with you,
like collateral and that, you
know?
- Nah, that's not gonna work
for me.
- Right.
Well, what are my options then?
Like fiscally, you know?
- How attached are you to
your two little thumbs there?
- Whoa, what? Just me?
What about her?
- What? Johnny!
You were the one that said
it was your f*ckin' shout.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah,
but I'm no good for it.
I mean, I'm never f*ckin' good
for it,
but I'm equally as f*ckin'
generous.
Hey mate, how's your weekend?
Yeah, f*ckin' good, wasn't it?
- Well, is there anything
we can do to like,
buy us more time?
- Funny you say that.
I got a job later today
that a couple of heads
just bailed on.
Could use some capable
hands like yourselves,
to assist with operations and
that.
- We'll do it.
- Well, hang on.
- What's the job?
- A heist, nearby. Real low key.
Meet me at the dumpling joint
in 20 and I'll fill you in.
- No, we're not gonna...
- And I'm holding you
personally responsible,
seeing as you're the one
pushing for more time.
- Makes sense.
- Mm.
- Well, we'll hear you out,
but we're not making any
promises.
- It's basically a promise.
So now that we're colleagues
and all,
could I get a little top up on
tic, bruh?
- Hurry up, goose!
- I mean, all I'm saying
is sure, put on a uniform,
at least make it obvious
that you're a f*ckin' scumbag
copper.
But to lie and deceive
the hard-working public,
I mean, that's a f*cking dog
act.
I mean, I just wonder what sort
of legacy
these undercovers are leaving,
you know?
Like, what that must do to a
family.
Cycles of abuse and all that
shit-
- Can we change the subject?
- Actually, there is a
subject I have in mind
to be broached.
- Broached isn't even a word.
And what are we supposed
to be? Thieves for hire?
- Ah, yeah.
And you're up on a very high
f*ckin' horse
for someone with light f*ckin'
fingers.
- Well, I'm not signing
up until I know who it is
that we're meant to be
appropriating.
- What does that matter?
- Ah, I don't know.
What if he's a lunatic?
What if he's holed up somewhere,
and he's jerking off to the
pictures
on the side of ciggy packets or
some shit?
- Are you f*ckin' all right?
- Time to go.
- We're not in yet.
We need to hear your pitch.
You know, official and that.
- It's easy.
Once you're inside,
you'll find a duffel bag.
You grab it, and bounce the
same way that you came in.
- What's in the bag?
- Does Gary from the Apple store
ask Fiona f*ckin' Apple
what's in the new iPhone?
No.
- And the mark. What's his deal?
- Time to go.
- Oh, f*ck this.
It sounds like amateur night.
I'm out.
- You owe me.
- You know what?
You can f*ckin' take my thumbs.
I don't even use 'em that much
anyway.
- You want to talk some sense
into your girl here, brother?
I take what's owed.
- Come on, man.
You know how much I love
playing FIFA.
What are you gonna do?
Just go home and hang out by
yourself?
- Yeah, I just might.
- Ah!
The guy is unhinged, all right.
It's all real horror show.
But none of that shit matters,
because you two dickheads
will be in and out
before he wakes up.
Debt paid.
- I want your bike.
Yeah, as payment.
- Fine, you f*ckin' thief.
And I don't want the attitude!
- Well, unfortunately it
comes with the f*ckin' bike.
- Yeah, we don't have time
for these little soap operas,
all right?
f*ckin' junkies.
Your reputation-
- Precedes me, yeah,
yeah, yeah.
- You'll go in through the
bathroom window
at the back of the house.
This is the only way in or out.
The rest of the house is
barred and boarded up.
Just get the bag, brother.
Or the debt doubles.
- Like toes, brah?
- Uh huh. Chop, chop.
And don't go thinking about
smoking
any of the shards that you find.
- Why?
Oh, yeah, I mean, of course not.
- Rumour is this one brother
smoked it,
and wasn't seen again.
Then his boys found a picture
of him
panning for gold in a textbook.
But I mean, probably bullshit,
right?
How past cooked is the kick-on
if you're breaking out the
textbooks?
- Yeah.
None of that sounds
interesting to me at all.
- Ah...
Bingo.
- Do you have to do that now?
What if this dumb c**t wakes up?
- Well, gotta stay prolific,
you know.
If a tree gets up in
the woods and all that.
Oy, new tag.
- "Pack"?
- Yeah, because I pack the pipe
so tight.
Oh, so you know Jazzo, yeah?
- Tall Jazzo?
- Yeah, so, he's a dog.
So him and Cakes were in China,
right?
And they go to the Great Wall.
I mean, as one does
when visiting the west.
And Jazzo's all like,
"This is the most famous wall
in the whole f*ckin' world.
I mean, it would be toy
to get up on this shit.
So, you know, he pulls
out a red spray can,
and just starts f*ckin'
getting up, because I mean,
say what you want about him,
but the c**t is f*ckin'
culturally sensitive.
- Are you f*cking serious?
We've gotta move. Hurry up!
- But then the People's
Litigation Army guys
started chasing 'em,
and they f*ckin' ran Cakes down.
But you know, Jazzo, he's
f*ckin' mad spritely.
I mean, he scaled down
a broken part of the wall into
Mongolia.
He hid out in yurts for a
f*ckin' month just eating goats
while Cakes rotted in
the gulags, or whatever.
f*ck, it's so windy.
Oy!
Ah, f*ck.
Ugh.
Oy, Dee!
f*cking calm down, all right?
f*ck!
- We're a long way from
the Macca's toilets.
- Yeah.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
- What sort of lukewarm
apricot yoghurt eating freak...
- Yeah, it's post-modern, aye.
- I don't know, man.
There must be like a thousand
other bags full of gear
in the city that are easier to
steal.
This all just feels a bit off.
f*ck it.
Give me a boost. Let's bail.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?
You don't trust Kane?
- No, I don't trust the drug
dealer that scalps people,
and he's always looking at me
weird.
I don't like it.
- That's just how he looks, lad.
"Get the bag, brother.
Or the debt f*ckin' doubles,
yeah?"
Come on, it'll be like the
time we hit the donut place.
- And fittingly left with
nothing.
- This time we'll be leaving
with these dumb little c**ts,
yeah?
- This feels like fairytales
for c**ts.
Pretty sure these weren't here
before.
- Oh, probably just trapped
animals or something.
- Human sized blood covered
animals.
f*cking great.
Who sawed off what in here?
- I think we have some
more pressing issues
than the mystery blood.
- What?
We're f*cked!
I'm f*cked!
This is what I get for
babysitting.
You always do this.
- Oy, me? What did I
f*ckin' do?
- You f*ck
up! You always f*ck up!
That should be your name,
"Fuckup".
- How is this my f*ckin' fault,
huh?
- Because, Fuckup, you were the
one
that agreed to take the job.
- Just stop f*ckin' calling
me a f*ck up, all right?
- Yeah?
Well, the truth is, that
you're not only a f*ck up,
but also a dog.
- How f*ckin' dare you!
Only a real undercover dog
would call their best mate a
dog.
- Well, I know what you did.
I know your deep, dark secret.
- I know yours.
Hm? Hm?
f*ck this! f*ck it all!
f*ckin' do it yourself,
f*ckin' piece of shit.
Call me a f*ckin' dog?
Pack '95.
Textbooks.
What do they say again?
Regrets are like a dead
samurai's sheathed blade."
- No one says that, idiot.
- I thought I'd just do my due
diligence
and test the f*cking gear, yeah?
- Always a martyr.
- Well, I'm glad you can see my
position.
- You know, if we get outta
here,
I really just wish that you
would f*ck off
outta my life forever.
- I'm only in your
f*ckin' life as a favour.
I'm a lone f*ckin' wolf.
- What a joke!
You literally follow me around
every day.
- It's all very biblical, isn't
it?
You know, packing a pipe
and packing a punch.
f*ckin' society's coming at ya,
and I've got my f*ckin' mitts
up,
because that's the way it is,
isn't it?
It's a f*ckin' w*r on your
f*ckin' mind.
I mean, they're all just
f*ckin' dogs, aren't they?
Ruff, you know, ruff.
You know, f*ckin' bit of that.
f*ckin' slithery little f*ckin'
snakes.
- Johnny?
What the f*ck?
- Look, I'll pardon all the
f*ck ups
if you just come back right now!
Pardon f*ckin' revoked.
- And now you're finally here!
Oh, his favourite day of the
year.
Oh, I can tell you...
How this story ends...
It ends in blood.
- Johnny?
- Ah.
Ugh.
Ugh.
Ugh.
Yeah.
Pretty good shit.
- October 2nd.
Damo and Keithie drive
truck cross country.
October 13th, shipment
lands off the coast.
West Coast Syndicate ride
jet skis out to collect.
July 25th, Netsy closes deal in
Jakarta.
May 19th Netsy travels to
Bali for first meeting...
What?
- Jimmy.
- What?
- Don't say what.
- But I don't have any
homework.
- Bingo.
I met Malcolm Netson outside a
nightclub
on the 20th of July, 1993.
Now, if took me just
under three more months
to get any intro to the rest of
them.
Ratbags and cohorts.
Whatever you want to call them.
- 1995.
Lone motherfuckin' wolf.
- Now, it's all
hearsay.
Tampering, no.
f*ckin' no with the
tampering, Your Honour.
I wouldn't even know how!
Okay?
Now, no, Your Honour.
Yes, Your Honour.
Three bags f*ckin' full, Your
Honour.
- Oh, yes.
Always know a head
when I see one.
Who needs a f*ckin' sidekick
anyway?
Nice one, Johnny.
Another day, another f*ckin'
win, you f*ckin' hero.
f*ck yes.
Just a little f*ckin' kiss.
A f*ckin' cop.
I can't escape these c**ts.
I just attract dogs.
I'm a f*ckin' dog whistle.
Yeah, look at you.
Why don't you just suck a
f*ckin' dog's d*ck, you know?
Yeah, nice one, Johnny.
Just walking your f*ckin'
little poodle-y boys,
and here comes the f*ckin'-
- Well, well, well.
What do we have here?
Huh?
A sneaky little coke whore.
- I just-
- Just what?
Hm?
You one of the Reaper boys?
Did he send you to try
and finish me off, aye?
- I don't know of, um...
Any Reapers.
- Yeah, I believe you.
You don't f*ckin' have
that outlaw look, do ya?
- Whatever.
Look, I was just about
to bounce, all right?
So don't have a blowout, I
know you're a cop and all.
- An undercover cop.
- f*cking, of course.
No, but seriously, I mean,
I really respect you guys.
I mean, you're like real
essential fillers
to the community and all that
shit.
f*ck, you know. I can't f*ckin'
do it.
Nothing personal, but
you guys are a real bunch
of f*ckin' sneaky dog c**ts,
all right?
But I repeat, you know, like
nothing f*ckin' personal.
Yeah?
Oh, f*ck, please.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I hate you,
it's just that we're
like natural adversaries
and that, you know?
Sick c**ts and f*ckin' pig dogs.
I mean, it's just the way
it's always f*ckin' been, man.
Maybe I hate myself a little
too.
- Can we maybe do this
without the g*n to my head?
- No, it's the f*ckin' g*n or
nothing.
- Always a martyr.
- What the f*ck?
- I guess I should like, give
you some advice or something.
But we don't have time.
- I don't understand.
- You're
just gonna have to trust me.
- What the f*ck is going on?
- I'm gonna get us out of this.
Just keep the door shut,
and make sure he's not coming.
- I can't believe that dog
c**t stitched me up like this.
I knew I shouldn't have listened
to that scumbag f*ck up.
Classic dog move.
Johnny always sh1tting the
carpet
and leaving me with a bag to
clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're
talking about.
You're outta line, young lady.
You know, Johnny might be a
f*ck up,
but he was there when you
needed someone.
- Wait. What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
- f*cking great.
- An amalgamation of
all of your life's decisions
have brought you here.
Brought you to him.
Your life is nothing
more than an equation.
Decisions over time,
finally producing a
quantifiable result.
- f*cking maths.
- And then you just stop
existing.
Tick f*cking tock.
Out of time.
You just...
Disappear.
- Disappear?
That b*tch took my pipe!
- "D . Trapped in '95.
Pack."
If you can't do the time, then
don't do the f*cking crime.
Dumb-ass.
- I can't think of the
name.
- 2053.
- f*ck.
f*ckin' stuck here with an
undercover cop.
They're always trying to nab
all city f*ckin' legends like me
just for f*ckin' gettin' up.
Gettin' up.
That's it.
f*ckin' gettin' up.
- What are you doin'?
Hm? You sneakin' about?
- Oh, no. I was...
I was just admiring this
painting.
Is it a DiCaprio?
- I got a lot of pricks after
me,
and I thought someone had
broken in.
- Let's just go back to bed, eh?
- You trying to leave me?
- No.
I mean, unless you want me to.
- Everyone always tries to
leave.
- Oh...
That's not good.
- I saw some crazy shit
when I was undercover that last
time.
The group I was with,
they used to make young
women play Russian Roulette
with their hand in a blender.
I mean, just for a gram
of goey and a laugh.
And they was kinda like family
to me.
But I knew it had to end,
so I brought the whole
f*ckin' lot of them down.
You know, get them
before they could get me.
One step ahead.
- Well, I'm not going anywhere.
Like, ever.
- Good.
- Yeah.
f*ckin' hurry up, Denise.
- What was that?
- I was just saying, I
think it might be a Matisse.
- Grab the blender from the
kitchen
on your way back to bed, yeah?
- f*ck.
- He will be back soon.
I'm sure he'll be excited
you're here.
And on his favourite day
of the year, a day of love,
I wonder if he will steal your
heart.
- What the f*ck?
What the f*ck?
What year is it?
- 2053.
- How'd I get here?
- A temporal narcotic.
- Where can I find more of it?
Where's all the rest of it?
- When I need to find
something,
I think about where I last saw
it.
- I had it...
Back in the present.
I reckon I'll be off then.
You know, before he gets back.
- I wouldn't go outside
without respiratory and skin
protection.
- What?
- The current
temperature
is 51 degrees Celsius.
Radiation is over 100
millisieverts.
Riots continue, meaning chances
of a v*olence incited injury
are above 20%.
- You're 20% chance of a
v*olence incited injury.
- It's not safe for you
out there.
- What do you want with all
these b*tches?
And most importantly, what
do you want with this b*tch?
How does all this time travel
shit work?
How how'd I get here?
- The drug deconstructs
you down,
and then rebuilds you back up
again
in the time you most recently
thought of.
Your consciousness and
subconsciousness
create a quantum tunnel
for you to travel through.
- Right, yeah.
Quantums and all that shit.
- Now I know you're the
one
I've been searching for.
It's finally time.
- Time for what?
- Sedate!
- Initiating
Carfentanil.
- Found you.
- ... you
were the one that agreed
to take the job.
- I thought it was only
polite to meet you back here,
after our little run-in
in the future and all.
I didn't even know you back
then.
- f*ckin' do it
yourself.
- Weird.
- f*ckin' piece of
shit.
- I usually don't tend
to f*ck with determinism,
but when the crystal brought
you to me,
to my time, to my home,
that was the day that you
freed me from my search.
So I traveled back and
put myself in a position
for you to be indebted to me.
Not the hardest part
of the plan, that bit.
- So you're here to k*ll me
then?
- Oh, I don't wanna k*ll you.
I want the opposite.
I want you to live.
Live here in this house,
forever.
- What?
Why?
- Because you're special.
- Wait.
What is that shit anyway?
- The crystal?
Just another psychotropic
street drug.
Rumour is, it has a foundation
of dimethyltryptamine,
engineered around 2050 in some
legal-ish
pharma-bro bio-tech lab
in Guatemala or some shit.
I knew this one brother
from my time manufacturing.
Shanked the c**t, rolled him of
his stash
before all the dogs came
through to shut it down.
- What made you so cooked?
What a joke...
you literally follow me around
every day.
- You just can't f*cking
help yourself, can you?
- Well, I mean, nothing
personal or anything.
But yeah, you are a few
nuggets short of a combo.
- That's Johnny, destined for
the past.
I might pay him a visit, cut
him open.
See what makes him tick.
My guess is just choccy
milk and barbiturates.
- Don't.
Just leave the goose there.
He's not hurting anyone.
- Isn't he?
Not for you to worry about, is
it?
Can't let your past dictate
your future and all that.
Time to go to work, c**t.
Someone's here.
And they got the duffel bag.
Ooh.
Now be a good boy and fetch it
for me.
- Fetch, boy.
- Johnny?
- What the f*ck is going on?
- Just keep the door shut.
And make sure he's not coming.
- Can't believe that dog c**t
stitched me up like this.
Johnny always sh1tting the
carpet
and leaving me with a bag to
clean it up.
- Oy.
That's my best mate you're
talking about.
You know, Johnny might be a
f*ck up,
but he was there when you
needed someone.
- Wait.
What are you doing?
- Returning the favour.
Johnny!
What the f*ck are you wearing?
- What am I wearing?
I've been living here for
f*ckin' months.
The bird who lives here
is some ex-undercover dog
c**t copper psychotic nut job
who consistently
threatens my f*ckin' life.
It's emasculatory.
And here you are worried about
what I'm f*ckin' wearing?
- Hold up!
I'm here to rescue you, aren't
I?
I don't get a thank you?
No, "I'm sorry for leaving you
in the creepy nightmare house
alone?"
I mean, what exactly is the
problem here?
- That's the f*ckin' problem.
- Who the f*ck is this dumb
sl*t, hm?
I got a f*ckin' word of
warning for you, yeah.
He is a top shelf f*ckin'
dropkick, but dead set,
he's my top shelf f*ckin'
dropkick.
- You're so young.
- What?
- So alive.
- Uh, what
are you going on about?
- She's my mum.
- Look, I don't know what kind
of f*ckin'
sick game you're playing here,
lady,
but you can't just f*ckin'
waltz into someone's home
and try and steal their f*ckin'
man.
Even if he is about as
useful as a kindergarten
in the f*ckin' Vatican.
Aren't ya? Aren't ya?
- Well, I mean, you know,
maybe she's not your mum.
You know, my mate Wayno thought
his mum was his grandmother.
Turns out like, she was just
mad old,
so his sister had to
breastfeed him and shit.
- She's my f*ckin' mum, all
right?
- Well, I mean, you don't
seem very f*ckin' happy
to see her now, do you?
- Yeah, well, it's not
my fault that she like,
started a fight with me,
and then, like, died.
Is it?
- You know, if you'd just
come here in February
like I f*ckin' told you to,
we wouldn't have to deal with
all this f*ckin'
intergenerational
bullshit, would we?
- Well, your stupid message
didn't exactly go the distance.
Another successful Johnny
scheme.
Two severed thumbs up, genius.
- I went the distance with your
mum.
- Watch your f*ckin'
mouth.
- I'll f*ckin'
watch my mouth, all right?
- Wait.
If it's November '95, then
that thing in there...
Is me.
And that...
That makes you my dad.
- Hang on, what the
f*ck is happening here?
Huh?
- What's happening is that me,
and this literal mother fucker,
are walking outside this dump,
and going back to where we came
from,
and we'll never discuss this
shit again.
- Yeah, like f*ck you are.
This f*ckin' loser?
You f*ckin' come in here,
you f*ckin' knock me up,
and then get off scot-free?
I don't f*ckin' think so.
You f*ckin' owe me.
- Oh, you wanna weigh in here,
Dad?
- Well, I mean, I can't have a
daughter
who's a f*ck up like you.
I mean, it doesn't make any
sense.
You don't have any of my
spirited charm or ambition.
- Well, you know what, dickhead?
You can f*ckin' stay here then.
Yeah, I knew that I
shouldn't come back for you.
- f*ckin' hang on, f*ckin' hang
on.
Are you saying f*ckin'
February 14th, 2022?
You have been going on about
that date
ever since you got here.
So what, you're saying all
that...
All that f*ckin' rubbish
about...
Ah!
Are you saying that that is
f*ckin' true?
- You don't need to
worry about any of that.
You just need to stay here,
and pop that thing out,
and don't go f*ckin' anywhere.
Like you're grounded.
Yeah, you love groundings,
as I seem to remember.
- Hang on a second.
If this tuckies your mom,
then that means you've got cop
blood.
Oh, Denise.
No wonder you put me on the dog.
I cannot be involved with a cop
family.
I mean, I've got a reputation
to think of.
- And it's because of that
selfish f*ckin' attitude
that I grew up without a dad.
I should've known you'd be the
kind of loser absent father
who would go out for some
smokes,
and leave me and my mom
to fend for ourselves.
- What are you talking about?
I pretty much did raise you.
I mean, you've got no idea
the amount of brain space
I could like, free up,
if I wasn't storing knowledge
for you.
- I know your secret.
- Oh, yeah?
What f*ckin' secret?
- I know that that whole
Jazzo in Mongolia story is
bullshit.
And I know why you went around
telling everyone he's a dog.
The real story is that you got
picked up
graffing by an undercover,
and you snitched on Jazzo.
Just like the-
- Don't f*ckin' say it.
- Dog that you are.
- You want to talk about
secrets, Denise?
I mean, baggy jumpers only
work for so long, man.
We all know you popped out
Danny Handjob's kid last year.
I mean, it's in his f*ckin'
name, Denise.
You don't have to f*ck him.
What the f*ck!
f*ckin'...
- f*ck!
- You two wanna f*ck
around and play games?
f*ckin' be my guest, yeah.
I need a fresh bloody start,
and I'm f*ckin' sick of
looking over my shoulder,
and I am f*ckin' especially
sick of cohabitation with you,
you f*ckin' dickhead!
f*ckin' bingo.
Oh.
- No!
- What a scumbag thief, aye?
Like mother, like daughter, I
guess.
Cup of tea?
- We need to get her back.
Think.
- We live here now.
Best not to go on about it too
much.
- But if she gives birth
to me in a different time,
then who is giving birth to me
now?
I'll cease to exist.
- I can't help but feel partly
to blame.
- Well, we can't worry about
that now.
We need to get her
back, before she like...
Births me.
- But when is she?
- I know when.
I heard her scream.
- What's happening,
losers?
- Oh, you know, not much,
just been banging Denise's mom.
- Ha, just the usual then.
Denise?
You got something that's mine?
Where's my gear?
Oh.
Don't go all idiot on me again,
Johnny.
I mean, I know that's
really asking something.
- Well, it's just that...
You know, I've got a
family to support now,
so the way I see it is,
finders f*ckin' keepers, aye?
- You don't have to do this,
Johnny.
- Yeah, I probably should
though.
- It's a bit late for the
whole Mr. Responsibility act.
I mean, you did ruin my f*ckin'
life.
- I barely know you, bro.
- Grow up, fuckhead.
- Leave him alone!
- I didn't think...
You had that in you, brother.
- I guess we should
like, k*ll him or something?
- All right, let's f*cking do
this.
- Don't do it.
Drop the knife.
- Don't listen to her, Johnny.
She's tried to screw me over
before.
- Now slowly go over and
check Kane for more vials.
Take one, give the rest to me.
And you stay where you f*ckin'
are.
And give that one to her.
- What the f*ck is
going on?
- I wish I could tell you,
but you're not ready for
what needs to be done.
- Well you're not much
f*ckin' help, are ya?
- Well, if you expect better
from me,
then change better, b*tch!
It's time for you to go get our
mum.
- What about Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to f*ckin' stare?
- Oh, it's coming!
- You're hitting this god damn
bowl
and going back to where you
came from.
- No, I'm not! I won't go back!
- f*cking hell, Mum!
You're stubborn as bloody
Johnny!
- I can't go back!
- Why?
- Because it's not a real life!
Johnny's gonna f*ckin' leave me!
I am paranoid them Reapers
are gonna come knocking
every f*ckin' day.
And I didn't even want a kid,
but now that I don't have a
choice,
I want it to have a life that
it doesn't just waste away!
I mean, my baby could grow up
here, right?
f*ckin', it's shit, it is shit,
but it's f*ckin' all right.
- This place is a f*cking
sh*thole.
The whole world in this
time is a f*cking sh*thole.
- Yeah, but it's a
sh*thole where I'm free.
'Cause I can't f*ckin' take it
anymore.
- I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, all right?
I'm sorry for all the years of
hell
that I'm gonna put you through.
And I'm really sorry
about your boyfriend Flaco
that I like, banged this one
time.
- Flaco's a f*cking shit name!
- And I'm mostly sorry
for my part that I play
in the fight that we have.
But if you don't smoke this and
go back,
then she'll never get the
chance to try and be better.
Do the right thing by the kid,
you reckon?
Okay.
- Just be patient with her.
She can be kind of useless at
times.
- Yeah, well, she probably
gets that from her father,
because he's a f*cking dickhead!
I mean, what kind of idiot is
watching
Saturday morning f*ckin'
cartoons!
- Kane?
- I was...
- You were the one in here
holding the bag for younger Kane
this whole time.
- We all owe our past
just one more chance.
That crazy b*tch shot me.
She always did have a
proclivity to overreact.
- Proclivity's not a...
You knew her?
- And you, briefly, when you
were little.
Nothing but regrets, this stuff.
- Sounds like a bit of a
one-way street with your past.
Can't all just be favours, can
it?
I mean, when does it end?
- Everything ends, love.
Tick f*cking tock.
- You once said that
you shouldn't let our past
control our future.
- Maybe once upon a time I had
a point.
My life would be so much easier
if you just didn't exist.
- Wait.
Why'd you say that?
This feels like fairytales for
c**ts.
- No more regrets.
Tick f*cking tock.
f*cking hell!
f*cking hell!
Just hook a girl up with
one shard, f*cking hell!
Stupid thing!
I think it's time to start
having
some hard talks with yourself,
Denise.
For starters, I'm thinking
you might have a drug problem.
- Didn't know you
had that in you, brother.
- I guess we
should we like,
k*ll him or something?
- All right, let's
f*cking do this!
- Don't do it!
Drop the knife.
Now slowly go over and
check Kane for more vials.
And you stay where you f*ckin'
are.
- What
the f*ck is going on?
- Well if you expect better
from me,
then change better, b*tch.
Now it's time for you to go get
our mum.
- What about
Johnny?
- He's not coming with you.
- Didn't
anyone ever teach you
that it's rude to f*cking stare?
- So you're like my kid,
and you've been looking for me.
That's what all those photos
of the other women were.
People you thought might've
been your mum?
Well, if I give you one of
these, will you let us go?
Will you let Johnny live?
- Time could end and I'd
keep hunting that prick down.
- I don't need a f*ckin'
sympathy pardon.
I don't see what the problem is.
Just sh**t the c**t, right
in the f*ckin' temple!
- I can't do that.
- Why not?
He literally just said
he's gonna hunt me down.
- Here, I'll f*ckin' do it.
- I know he's not making
a great case for himself,
but it's not his fault, you
know?
Me leaving you.
- No, it f*cking was.
- You know, back when I was a
teenager,
I always used to rack the
nangs from the kitchen
to get high.
- Yeah, f*ckin' sick.
- Yeah.
They're like the little nitrous
canisters
that you chuck in the whipped
cream.
- Yeah, I know what f*ckin'
nangs are.
- Yeah.
My mom used to put whipped cream
on her low expresso martinis,
and one day she really lost it.
She came storming into
my room screaming at me
for stealing all the nangs.
Now...
I was fairly cooked,
so I might have laughed a
little too hard.
- Is there a point to all of
this?
- Yeah.
She said...
"My life would be so much
easier if you didn't exist."
And then she left.
You know, but I wasn't the
one that stopped existing.
She was.
Some old g*ng member she put
away,
saw her at the shops, k*lled
her.
Buying more nangs k*lled her.
I k*lled her.
Your life was better with
me not existing in it.
- How do you know?
You didn't even try.
But you can try now, you have
to.
- If you want a mom, then why
the f*ck
are you trying to lock me up?
- Because we will finally be a
family.
- That's now how family works,
dickhead.
I mean, how's the emotional
intelligence on this c**t, D?
- f*cking shut up, Johnny!
He's right.
That's not a family.
- Yeah, well, I wouldn't
f*cking know, would I?
You gave me away to spend your
life
f*cking around with this dumb
junkie c**t.
And that decision left me with
nothing.
With no one.
You left me on the steps of a
church
with just a teddy bear
like it was a f*cking Christmas
movie.
Now, make it right and sh**t
this mutt!
- Wait, Denise, come on, lad.
You're really not gonna
choose him over me, yeah?
You've gotta get outta here.
Go someplace I don't know where
you are.
This is goodbye, Johnny.
- No, f*ck that, I'm not going.
- When you found me crying
on the floor of the Macca's
toilets,
you took me under your wing.
You saved me.
Now let me save you.
- You could've saved me
by capping that deadshit.
- Mum.
I'm sorry.
I just...
I looked for you for so long.
And the more I looked,
the more Valentine's Days I was
alone.
The old man version of
me rambled on so much
it was hard to decipher what
was real
and what was just rubbish.
But he told me that you left me
here
with no crystal for 30 plus
f*ckin' years.
I didn't believe him.
I couldn't believe that you
would do that.
But he insisted.
- No.
f*ck that.
Only if I get to go home, yeah?
- You owe me!
If you won't open this door...
Then how about I go into
that other room there
and put a b*llet in your mum's
head?
- Fine, I'll tell you the truth.
I don't want you in my life.
I meant it when I said that
you were a f*ck up and a dog.
That's why I think it's
best that you just f*ck off.
Go on, get!
- f*ckin' bullshit.
- No one wants a f*cking
snitch like you in their life.
- The graff scene is all
just toys there now, anyway.
You can forget about having
my f*ckin' bike, yeah?
- No!
I just wanted to make things
right.
- Don't do it.
Don't f*ckin' run away again.
- I'm not.
- Can't think of a name.
- Denise, sounds appropriately
annoying.
- Hey...
How are you with coffee based
cocktails?
'Cause I could really,
I could use a drink.
I mean, if you could sort that
out,
I could stitch up that
little gut scratch you got.
- I'll make myself at home.
- Gonna have to f*ckin' move
house again.
- I meant it when I
said
that I'm not running anymore.
- You'll stay here? With me?
- Um...
Well, ideally, no.
But I did have an idea to
broach.
Where can I take you to get you
fixed up?
- Not where, when.
- I'm taking the
chance that you've grown a bit.
- A few decades
will do that to you.
- Oh, probably just
trapped animals or something.
- What about your past self?
- Human sized
blood covered animals.
f*cking great.
- Maybe she's got some
growing up to do too.
- No one ever tell you that
it's rude to f*cking stare?
- "Get the bag, brother."
- "Dearest Denise.
I'm not going to lie.
It's taken me a minute to write
this.
I won't tell you where I am,
but after I arrived here,
I was confronted by the
family that owned the house.
Thankfully, the patriarch
was a veterinarian
and was able to yank the slug
from my gut.
Real G shit.
Things are pretty cool here.
I ended up wifing the old man's
daughter,
so I inherited the joint.
I'm like a clerk or
something, I don't know.
c**ts can barely even
write, so I'm like a genius.
Well, considered around
average, at least.
Pretty heavy that Kane's your
kid.
Still can't believe you
f*cked Danny Handjobs though.
Classic.
I hope things worked out with
Kane.
He needs all the help he can get
after I defeated him in combat
so badly.
On that note, I'm leaving the
deeds to the house and land
in a trust for him when he
comes of age.
I feel like I owe the
young fella for the tic,
and I thought this is
what you would've wanted.
My lawyer seems to think
this kind of practise
is highly unorthodox,
given that Kane won't be born
for another 130 plus years.
I told him, "I don't
need the sermon, brother.
Just work out the particulars,
c**t."
He's got those f*ck off
mutton chop sideburns.
Anyways, f*ck him and what he
thinks.
Lawyers are all dogs anyways.
Not as bad as undercover
cops and parking inspectors,
but still.
Anyways, here's where I
broach the serious stuff.
I understand now why you sent
me away.
It took me a while to
figure out what you meant
by making things right.
What I'm trying to say is,
this is my way of trying to
make things right with us.
Since I've been here,
I've had these dreams.
You know, those kinda dreams
you have
when you first get clean.
Real f*ckin' vivid, but all
over the shop.
Like, lizards in top hats kinda
shit.
Anyways, in this one dream, we
were both these lone wolves,
but like, not alone, because
there were two of us,
like a group of wolves.
There should be a word to
describe that or something.
Anyways, I realised,
it doesn't matter that we're
not hanging out anymore.
Because time or no time,
I'm like, a part of you.
I mean, think about it.
You come from my balls, man.
This is the kind of
philosophical shit
I have time to sit around
and think about now.
We're definitely a long way
from the Macca's toilets.
Keep it real, lad.
One love.
Pack."