01x02 - Cremains of the Day

[bunniefuu]

Ohh! Come on!

Minh?

Minh!

Minh!

- No. - Yep.

Just checking the ban is still in place.

And it is.

Higher. Higher. Lower.

- Morning, Roz. - Webmaster.

Morning, Helen. No, no, straighter.

- A bit more to the right. Yes, good. - I'll just...

Good. A bit more to the right. And let it go.

Hey, Helen, stop!

- Don't go in there! - Okay! Why not?! What's going on?!

No, I'm just excited. I've got your office ready. Totally styled it out.

- This way. - Okay.

- You...you all good? - Yeah.

Might just need a minute.

You know, I'm quite highly strung. Maybe don't yell at me.

- This one? - No. That's a cupboard.

This is your office.

Oh! Which is also a cupboard.

Very unpretentious.

And I like that I can interrogate suspects in here too.

How about this desk?

Ooh, it looks a bit different to the picture.

I know! It's a hack! I hacked it! What do you think?

I'm not sure you needed to, but okay, yeah, why not?

Liaise with George for anything you might need.

Don't go wild, obviously. We are on a budget.

Mm-hm.

This is for clients.

Maybe I could get something a bit more comfortable for clients.

Yep.

Is that doing anything?

Um...not in here.

Mm. Not out here either.

What about a print or something to cover the mold on that wall?

There's this website that does, like, inspirational work posters...

you know, like, "Live, laugh, love", that kind of thing.

I don't really do any of those things.

You can make your own one.

Like, you could have, "Meeting, lunch, phone call", or something.

Sure. That's really inspiring.

Well, you would personalize it. What do you like?

Um...I like my dog.

Uh...soup. I really like soup.

Watching television.

Tea. Scones. Obviously go together.

Ooh, butterscotch. Always better than you think.

You sound like my grandma.

Yeah, I do like big pants.

- Just...they keep me secure. - Yeah.

Hello, Bob! How are you?

Rozalind Gru-bear! Good to see ya!

I hope we can sort this out quickly.

I've got a dim sum lunch I've got to get to.

Not up to me, I'm afraid.

I've handed this one over to our new colleague, Helen Tudor-Fisk.

- Fisk? - Mm.

- Fisk...any relation to... - Father.

Well, well, interesting! Are the rumors true? Do we know?

You know, about Dad and the tip-staff?

Helen.

- This is Bob Stanley. - Hello, Bob.

It's all true...mum died, Dad kicked that closet door down

and came out screaming, ran off with his tip-staff.

It's been quite the roller-coaster ride. Should we head on in?

Okay, the will states that the cremains are to be divided

between the family of Alan Munster and Kellie-Joy Frazer.

Obviously I should get the whole vase of ashes,

but if Ally says half, I'll accept half, please, thank you.

Ooh, hang on, the will does not specify half.

It simply says, "cremains to be divided".

That's what we're here to determine.

- But I'm the widow. - Widow...were you married?

- That feels like new information... - No, they weren't married.

Me and Ally-bear were married in our hearts.

Don't need a piece of paper to be married.

I think that's exactly what you need to be married.

- Yeah... - Hey, are there any snacks?

I'm...I'm quite peckish. Roz usually serves snacks.

- Sorry. No snacks. - What...? That's a shame. A bit of cheese floating around?

No, Bob. No floating cheese.

I just need to clarify exactly how long you were in a relationship with Mr.Munster.

Five minutes.

Um...Instagram begs to differ.

We've been an official couple since October last year.

But, before that, it was just flirting around the office,

a bit of sexting.

Oh, God. My poor mother didn't deserve this.

- No, that's pretty... - Oh, that's hard to look at.

He was living his best life, Gina.

There's a saying, you know?

"Why go out for steak when you're getting the milk for free"?

What?

Uh...I believe the expression is,

"Why go for a hamburger when you're getting steak at home"?

Right.

Sorry, but I still don't quite understand what you're saying.

I'm saying I'm the steak.

Yeah, nah, I think in that scenario, you're the hamburger.

I'm not the hamburger!

I'm fillet steak.

You're really not. You're more like a kebab.

Mm.

Yum.

Oh!

Roz?

I've just seen Bob Stanley in the meeting room.

- Is this yours? - Uh-uh.

- Hang on, that's mine. - Jesus, take it easy.

That's...yeah. That one's gone.

Why are there no snacks in there?

Let's get some taramasalata, some tzatziki in there.

Bob will agree to anything if there's snacks.

I thought I wasn't allowed anywhere near legal proceedings.

Just find some bloody hummus and put Bob's name on it.

And it's "Hou-mus".

Okay, so, with regard...

- That's good hummus. - Yep.

- Very happy with that. - Okay.

So, with regard to the division of the cremains,

we would like to make an offer of five grams, or one teaspoon.

One teaspoon?!
Which I realize doesn't sound like much, however, it is enough to pop in, say, a locket

or some other kind of keepsake.

- A what-sake? - Like a memento, a keepsake.

For example, there's a company

that will put a small amount of ashes into a snow globe.

Mm, that's nice.

- Do you think? - Uh...yeah, nice.

Uh...sometimes people mix the ashes with ink and get a tattoo.

- Really? - Relax.

Yep, definitely doing that. I could get a teddy bear,

my own little Ally-bear on my shoulder maybe.

I would've thought a tr*mp stamp would be more suitable.

I've already got one, Gina, so joke's on you.

Mm. Um...my client...

hang on. Sorry. Chewing.

Sorry, that's not fair.

I'm gonna need more than five grams

If I'm gonna get a tattoo and a snow globe.

It actually is fair because we've done the calculations.

Let me talk you through them and then you'll see how we got there.

Okay, so...

what we need to do

is compare the amount of time you spent with Mr.Munster

versus the time he spent with his family.

So, over here on your side,

you say you were together six months, I'm taking you at your word,

including that extra bit at the beginning,

we end up with about 7.44 months.

Versus a 48-year marriage with two children,

combined ages of which are 76 years.

Now, 76 and 48...that's a 124 years.

In order to compare that with this, we need to convert that to months.

So, we times it by 12. We end up with 1,488 months.

Now we're comparing apples with apples.

Then we factor in the weight of the ashes.

Now, that's approximately one to three kilograms,

so what we go with is units, then we convert it back to grams,

and what we end up with is five grams, one teaspoon.

It was actually 4.7, but I'm being generous, I've rounded up.

So, what do we think? Bob?

Yeah, um...

That's imp...it's impressive.

Yeah, I actually think that's quite a fair deal.

So, are we all happy with that?

I know you're not happy with it. But we agree to that?

- Yeah. - Great.

Well, I'm gonna call the funeral home and get them to release the ashes.

Mm.

Make sure I get a good five grams.

Like, from his heart, you know? I don't want foot ashes or anything.

Vis-a-vis our next meeting, Helen,

what do you think about a few deli meats?

Maybe some "Lavash"?

Yeah, I'll get on that.

Do you wanna take the hummus? No-one else wants it, Bob.

Oh, yeah. For sure.

Thanks.

And any snacks you'd like for the next meeting or...

a bit upset?

Okay.

- Oh, Viktor. - Helen!

- What's going on? - I don't have you in the diary.

- I thought you'd be at work. - I'm on...

- I'm on long-service leave. - What is that smell?

You haven't got that dog with you, have you?

- No. - You know I'm allergic.

- Yes. - Oh, it's like popcorn and wet meat.

- No, I think that's just me. - Is Dad home?

- Yes. Why? - Do I need a reason?

Maybe I just want to say hi.

- Really? - Yes!

And I would also like to borrow the George Foreman Grill, please,

because the cook-top at my Airbnb is broken.

Oh, Helen. Is this how you thought your life would turn out?

You're divorced, you're living in a bedsit,

you're eating steaks cooked in a sandwich maker.

It's not a sandwich maker. It's a...lean, mean grilling machine,

Look, why don't you pick it up on Sunday when you come for lunch?

Oh, you're not the boss of my dad, Viktor, okay?

I was his tip-staff for 15 years, Helen.

I think you'll find I have been the boss of your dad for quite some time.

Fine. I will get it on Sunday.

Well, lovely. We'll look forward to seeing you then.

Dad's doing a seafood buffet.

Ooh, goody! Fish!

No-one's favorite. Bleugh!

Yes, Viktor?

I want you to call May and Graham and invite them to Sunday lunch.

Why do I have to call them? It's your lunch.

They're your aunt and uncle.

I want everyone there. I've got a big announcement.

Is that a euphemism?

Viktor, I said is that a euphemism?

Yes, Helen, I heard you. Don't be common.

Just call your aunt and uncle, please. Thank you. Goodbye.

Wow!

Look what you've done.

It's like a room reveal on "The Block".

All this for $80 at Kmart. Can you believe it?

- Yes, I can. - Check this out!

The most-comfortable-ever chair for clients.

Chair, you reckon?

I really thought outside the box for this one.

Yeah. And...what is that? A fez?

Yeah, maybe for a monkey.

Mm-hm.

Doesn't mean she can come in here any time she wants

and watch TV and fall asleep on the couch.

She was asleep on the couch the other day when I came home from work.

But if you're not here, what does it matter?

It matters because it's against the rules and I'm renting the house.

Okay, fine. I'll make sure she doesn't come in and watch TV here anymore.

Thank you.

Well, don't come into my...

Oh. Okay, well, this is petty.

It's plugged in at the wall as well. You're gonna have to...

Now it's not.

Okay.

Good.

I'll just read a book. It's better for you.

Coming up a bit later with Chris Bowen,

Helen Haines and Warren Entsch,

three parliamentarians who all want to tell us

what they've been reading and listening to and watching.

They do have time, it would appear...only just.

So, we're also doing that.

sh*t!

Minh!

Minh, what are you doing?!

Burning rubbish!

Oh, my Go...

Hang on a sec.

Can you throw this in?!

Thank you!

- Hello, hello! - Hi!

May, Helen. God, that's a fun top.

Looks like you've joined a mime school! I love it.

- Is Graham coming? - Yeah.

Graham!

Where are you? Oh! Picking up the rear. As usual. Ha!

- Oh, yes. - Yep.

- Latest acquisition on the easel. - Mm.

It's pretty graphic, Viktor.

It's just a body, Helen. We've all got one.

- That guy's got a massive one. - Shh!

- Oh, did they? - They did.

- Whole "Barramundi"! - Yay!

Fish! Ooh!

- I thought you didn't like fish. - What?

You remember when I wanted to make boiled fish,

you said Helen doesn't like fish.

Nobody likes boiled fish, Graham.

- So, do you like fish now, Helen? - Yeah, I love it, Graham.

It looks great, Dad. Yum.

Clay-oven technique. Oh, good.

You encase the whole fish in a simple dough

made of flour, salt and water.

- Mm-hm. - The dough then hardens into a shell.

If I can just interrupt for a moment.

Before we enjoy this beautiful feast,

we just wanted to announce that last Thursday...

- we got married. - Mm.

I know, can you believe it? So, here's cheers.

To Tippy and Tony.

- Tip and Tone. - Tip and Tone.

Dad, why didn't you tell me? Why wasn't I invited?

It was just a simple service in the registrar's office. Nothing fancy.

I figured we wouldn't trouble you with it.

Well...well, I'm shocked.

It's perfectly legal. A lot of g*y people get married now.

- Oh, really? - Yeah, she knows it's legal, Graham.

She's just...surprised.

We all are.

Sauce. I forgot the sauce.

Mm. It's not all you forgot, is it, Dad?

Anthony has been a widower for over two years now...

Yes, thank you, Viktor.

I'm well aware of when my sister died.

I might have some of this fish. Looks so moist.

Don't say "moist".

Yuck.

Is there any more bread?

You had four rolls.

But it's a lot.

- b*stard! - Oh.

Sorry, Tony, did you want the last potato?

Little b*stard in broad bloody daylight. Do you see it?

Yes, yes, but, Tony, don't worry about it.

Leave it alone. You'll just make it angry.

- What is it? - Oh, it's a possum.

It eats his magnolia tree and it craps all over the Porte-cochère.

- The what? - Oh, the driveway.

- They've been watching "The Crown". - Oh!

Dad, no, don't, don't.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Oh, sh...sh*t.

Oh, my God!

Anthony! You've k*lled it!

No, no, it's just playing possum. That's what they do.

Helen, go and poke it with a stick. Make sure it's dead.

I'm not gonna poke...why do I have to poke it? Just...

Dad, are you alright?

Oh, come on. May, take him inside.

Open the door, Viktor. Jesus. It's not gonna get you now, it's dead!

Quickly, quickly, come in. Don't let it in.

Oh, for God's sake. He's got an armory, Viktor!

Why is he making weapons?

Ready?

Ooh, God!

Sweeping.

Argh.

Ready?

Ohh!

- We'll see you soon. - Yeah. You're alright? Recovered?

- Bye, Viktor! - Bye.

See you, Graham.

How's...is Dad alright?

- Yeah, he's fine, he's fine. - Aren't you forgetting something?

- No, I've got my grill, I'm good. - Oh, Helen, for God's sake.

I'm sorry, Viktor, I didn't know we did hugs.

- There we go. - Ooh...oh. Well, that's nice.

I meant that.

No, I don't want leftovers.

- It's the possum. - What? No.

We cannot have evidence on our property, okay?

- I'm not taking it. - It's in the esky. Just take it.

- Go. Go. - Ohh...why is it in an esky?

- What are you keeping it fresh for? - Helen, get it out of here, please.

- Thank you. - Thanks for a lovely afternoon!

Jesus.

Okay.

Okay.

Argh.

Hang on, Artie! I know, buddy, hang on...

sh*t.

I'm coming!

That isn't gonna...

Just...don't poo on the rug!

Juliana.

Gran said you left a dead cat in an esky at her front door.

Is that some kind of r*cist taunt?

No, oh, God, no. God, no. No, it's not a cat, it's a...it's a possum.

Oh! It's a possum in an esky!

Oh, that's alright then. That's not weird at all.

Yeah, I'm really sorry. The bins were full.

But give it to me, I'll get rid of it. There's a skip down the road.

- Where is it? - It's gone.

- Gran burned it. - Oh.

Okay. Well, good result. Thanks, Minh.

Mm. Gran wants you out by Friday. You're too much trouble.

But, no, I've got a booking for two months.

Well, your booking is canceled. You can't cancel my booking.

Um...I think I just did. It's an Airbnb, Helen, there's no rules.

No rules? Yeah, okay, well, how about I call the Council

and say there's an old lady having a backyard burn-off?

Will they just say,

"That's okay, Helen, it's Airbnb, there's no rules"? Don't think so.

Mm. Get out.

Oh, fine. I'll be out by Friday.

No. Get out now.

It'll be a week tops. Thanks, Dad.

For heaven's sake, Tony!

No! No, no, no, no, no!

Helen, you come back here!

I have allergies! I've got allergies!

- Naughty Viktor. - Hello! Thank you.

And you're definitely okay if I stay here?!

Oh. Yep! Fine!

- Bye! - Thank you!

Bye!

Man, you look tired.

Yeah, well, I've had a very stressful morning.

No, I mean like...really tired.

I got kicked out of my Airbnb. I had to leave all the stuff there...

Ooh, Christ, you look like sh*t.

That's what I just said!

- Morning! - Yes, I know! I look terrible!

Do you? You look like you always look to me.

Please, Gina, take a very comfortable chair.

Would you like some tea?

Just water, thank you. And maybe some butterscotch.

- What? - Sorry, is that not a menu?

Gina, um...

Hi.

You know the handover's not till 3:00?

- You're just a bit early... - I've changed my mind.

- Ooh. - It's too upsetting.

Mum needs to be able to look at the urn and know that he's all there.

- And he will be all there. - There's only gonna be like a ti..

It's like a pinch is gonna be missing...

Those missing ashes will be a constant reminder of this "Annus Horribilis"...

the year some tr*mp stole her husband

and put his ashes in a snow globe.

Oh, well, hang on, we don't know that's gonna happen.

- Thanks, George. - Get some tissues.

I mean, she might get a tattoo

or she might lose them.

- We don't know what's gonna... - Thanks.

- No, tissues in a box! - We've run out.

Mum always thought he'd come to his senses and come home eventually,

but then he...he died!

I know. I know.

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

It's alright, she's just a bit upset

'cause we're...dividing her dad's ashes today.

- No, we're not. - Yes, we are.

Could you give us a minute?

Oh, I'm sorry. Me.

Now...

we're going to calm down.

I'm gonna get you some tissues.

You do know that's not a toilet.

She said that my dad...

- Yep. - ...is gonna end up tattooed...

I can assure you, Gina, that is not going to happen.

Now, I want you to just take a little minute.

Hmm?

Thank you.

Okay, you know I can't control what Kellie-Joy does with the ashes

once she gets them.

Well, then you'd better make sure she doesn't get any ashes.

Roz? Roz?

I can't get up.

Thank you so much for your patience, Gina.

We'll see you back here at 3:00.

See you at 3:00.

Really, Helen?

A beanbag?

And toilet paper? What were you thinking?!

Yeah, I made some really bad choices.

I'm gonna go pick up my stuff, but you owe me, Webmaster.

See? This is why I can't take time off, Raymond.

Toilet paper and a beanbag. Good God!

Did someone take a crap on a beanbag?

Was it not labeled?

You might want to get onto that, Roz.

Oh, come on.

- Alrighty. - Ooh, good. Is that Alan Munster?

- Yep. - Great. I will take him.

And this is for you. It's from the place downstairs.

- Thank you, George. - Taste the deception.

All is forgiven. Uh...

Did you get the deli meats and the "Lavash" for the meeting?

Sure did.

Close enough.

And...I got this fancy cheeseboard.

Wow.

You're a real cheese wizard.

- Thank you. - And that is dead-fancy.

Bob's gonna love that. Alright, pop that in the meeting room.

I'll deal with Alan.

Cheese?

- Ugh...don't you even speak to me! - Don't panic, no, don't panic.

- Where is Roz?! - No, don't tell...

Don't' tell Roz, don't tell Roz.

I won't be paying my bill. You promised me this wouldn't happen.

Gina, I am so sorry.

Helen, I thought you were gonna sort this out.

- I did! - You didn't.

You gave that woman five grams of my father's ashes.

I gave that woman five grams of ashes.

I did not give her your father's ashes.

What?

Oh, my God, Helen, what have you done?

You said, "Helen, you better not give that woman any of her ashes".

Yes. And I meant you had better construct a solid legal argument

for not handing over any ashes.

Okay. Well, I realize that now.

At the time, it did sound a lot more like,

Helen, you better not give her any of those ashes,

if you know what I mean. Wink-wink.

Is that supposed to be me?

Okay, get ready to say, "Well done, Helen",

because that's not Dad.

Here he is!

All of him!

But what...what if she has the ashes you gave her tested?

Oh, it doesn't matter...bone is bone.

- Bone? - Oh, my God, is that another person?

No, of course it isn't.

Sorry, can I just say? This is not how I thought this was gonna go.

I genuinely thought everyone would be really happy.

I mean...there's your dad.

Every last gram of him. All for you.

You're welcome.

Good result.

Thank you, Roz. Finally.

Do I need to be worried?

Oh...maybe.

George put it together, so I don't know how stable it is.

About the ashes you gave Kellie-Joy.

No, I think we're good. Human bone, animal bone...

Animal? Oh, no, Fisk, you didn't k*ll your cat?

I don't have a cat.

Anymore.

- It wasn't a cat. - Was it a dog?

- It wasn't a... - You know what? I don't wanna know.

Guinea pig?

- Why do I even... - Don't tell me.

Don't make me complicit. Was it a pigeon?

It wasn't a pigeon. Okay, you know what?

Let's just say if she wants to get a tattoo she should get a possum,

a mangy one with a head wound.

Well, let's leave it at that.

No, Helen!

- Don't drink that! - Why not?!

Oh, I got you this good coffee, just...from downstairs.