01x06 - Sparta

[bunniefuu]

I didn't feel like

eating anymore.

I hadn't spoken to the band

or to Noor since.

You are in a punk band?

- You seem upset.

- People hate the band.

How could you do this to us?

It's like I don't even know

who you are.

f*ck Noor, and f*ck you.

No, f*ck you. I quit.

Amina, wait.

And that was four weeks ago.

I don't care if it hurts ♪

I wanna have control ♪

I want a perfect body ♪

I want a perfect soul ♪

I want you to notice ♪

When I'm not around ♪

You're so f*cking special ♪

Wish I was special ♪

But I'm a creep ♪

I'm a weirdo ♪

What the hell

am I doing here? ♪

I don't belong here ♪

I'm a creep ♪

I'm a weirdo ♪

What the hell

am I doing here? ♪

I don't belong here ♪

I don't belong ♪

Here ♪

Amina, wait!

Listen.

I spoke to my Sheikha,

and I've done

a lot of soul searching.

Loads.

Tons. Masses.

I know you've got

a good heart.

What you did, the music,

sure, it was sinful,

offensive, disgusting, but

I want to help

get you back on track.

Get you back to you.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

I was out of Lady Parts,

good and proper

And so, it seems, was Saira.

She hadn't spoken

to any of the others in weeks.

And for the first time

in a long time,

she had gone home.

- Asalaamalaiykun Nana.

- Valaikum salaam.

Happy birthday.

My favourite. Thank you.

He doesn't need these.

He's diabetic.

You were my good girl.

It was Ruksana who was always

getting in trouble.

You were my sweet, quiet girl.

Kya hua?

What happened?

Nothing happened.

I'm just not what you want.

Life without the band

was definitely hitting Saira

the hardest.

But everyone

was having to adjust.

Since the band's demise,

Bisma got a job

as receptionist

at a temp agency.

Heartbroken after being dumped

by Zarina,

Ayesha had totalled her car

in a moment

of white hot road rage.

She found new employment

f*ck off!

As a food courier.

Whoa!

And then there was Momtaz.

She felt fully responsible

for the article

and the resulting snafu.

She spent weeks monitoring

the tidal wave of hate,

every day wading

through the toxicity,

like Frodo journeying through

the treacherous Mordor.

But for what?

It seemed like needless

self-flagellation,

until

Out of the woodwork

emerged the unfindable,

the unfathomable,

the unfeasible:

the fans.

And they were clamouring

for one thing.

Gigs.

With Noor's encouragement,

I was getting my life

back on track

and finding a husband,

like I always wanted.

What's this?

Why are you going

through my rubbish?

Because you're being weird

and not talking to us.

So I have to be weird,

go through your rubbish,

like a raccoon.

Like a raccoon.

I'm gonna be late.

Why would you

throw Don Mclean away?

- Mm?

- You love Don Mclean.

I don't. Stop.

He's─it's inappropriate.

Unacceptable.

You know, haram.

Since when

was Don Mclean haram?

It could be argued

that putting Don Mclean

into the bin,

it─it could be a bit haram.

Uh, Buboo, give us a minute.

Now, listen.

When I was a girl,

I was always told who to be─

Yeah, Ma, I know.

You were always told

what to do and who to be,

and now you've found yourself,

and you don't care

what anyone thinks.

You don't worry

about consequences

or have any idea of what is

or is not appropriate.

You act purely on impulse

and have no filter whatsoever.

I know.

Guess what, Ma.

I am not you.

Hey, you okay?

sh*t, man,

that article was mad.

Ayesha told me

the band broke up.

I'm sorry.

I don't think

this is appropriate.

What are you chatting about?

Our, you know,

weird friendship thing.

Not exactly halal, is it?

Oh, what? You seriou─ come on.

I wanted to do things right

this time.

And despite

my tarnished status,

Noor was determined

to help me find the one.

My second divorce went

really smoothly, actually.

- Oh.

- You know what they say.

- Mm?

- Third time lucky.

While I was trying to find

Mr. Right,

Taz was trying to find a gig.

It is loud.

Very loud.

Coming in here,

who do you think you are?

Me? Um

I'm just a girl,

standing in front

of some community elders,

asking them for a gig.

- Get out.

- Ugh.

My income will allow me

to support two wives.

One tall, one short.

Inshallah.

- Mm.

- Mm.

If someone's forcing you

to wear all that,

you should say something.

I'm just looking for a gig

for my band.

Is there someone

you want us to call?

Yes, please.

I'm─I'm desperate.

Please, please help me.

See, I need a slot for my band,

urgently, before─

I mean, who knows

what might happen?

You taking the piss?

Ugh, damn it.

Come on.

Did you record "Bake Off"?

The box was full.

Any luck with finding

your gig?

I don't know why you don't

just do one yourself.

- Myself?

- Hmm.

Taz, what do you want?

Listen, I'm sorry.

It was my fault.

Mea culpa re Zarina

and the article thing.

It was massively my bad,

but sh*t, man,

I mean, c─ it worked.

What do you mean it worked?

People are hearing

our music.

We've got actual human fans.

Not even Russian bots.

Bona fide h*m* sapienseses,

and they wanna hear us play.

No one's talking to me.

That's 'cause you went

all nuclear on everyone

and told them to f*ck off.

So

You gotta be brave,

and you gotta say sorry.

- I'm not saying sorry.

- Uh, you bloody are.

Whatever.

You started Lady Parts.

You brought us together.

Now do it again.

You planning

on murdering us?

We could have

just hung out at mine

rather than this crime scene.

Relax.

Just thought it best

we meet on neutral territory.

Neutral territory?

What do you mean?

No.

Hey, you guys good?

Hmm, let me think.

I crashed my car,

so I'm stuck working

as Uncle Sam's handmaiden

riding around on a bicycle

like some stinking vegan.

What do you think?

Yeah, sounds pretty sh*t.

Um

Hey, I'm

you know

Sorry.

- What?

- Speak up, mate.

Can't hear you mumbling.

I'm sorry.

Saira? Apologising?

I must be in

an alternate universe,

or you must be

an alien parasite

who has taken the form of Saira

because your home planet

has run out of resources.

She feels human.

Stop.

I'm sorry.

I'm actually sorry.

You know, deeply or whatever,

for the things I said.

Shoving my Zen up my arse?

No.

You broke the band up.

And you did nothing about it.

Zarina really kicked my heart

in the nuts,

and you was

a real b*stard to me.

You said some

really mean things.

Sometimes

I have anger issues.

You do have f*cking

anger issues!

I'm sorry.

Please.

I want the band back.

You're my f*cking family.

I hate this.

I want us back together.

No.

What?

We can't play with you.

You're just really wet

and emo now,

and it's really k*lling

my punk edge.

- Sorry.

- f*ck you.

You're so wounded,

it's impossible

to be mad at you.

I'm still pissed off

at you, though.

Right.

So can we leave

this crack den or

No, 'cause this crack den

is our gig venue.

- Gig?

- Hmm?

We're playing a gig

this Saturday,

and this is our venue.

- What?

- Yes.

But this gig is a chance

to say who we really are.

Launch ourselves on our terms.

We're not playing

some weird pub.

We're not auditioning

for some creeps

or going cap in hand

for a slot.

This is us, by us, for us.

- Okay, then.

- Right, then.

Let's get our guitarist back.

- Can I help you?

- I'm not here to speak to you.

I wanna speak to Amina.

Well, Amina

doesn't wanna speak to you

- after what you did.

- It really kills you

to see her be her own person,

doesn't it?

Don't act like you know her.

You don't.

She's my best friend.

Not yours.

Saira had been texting me

nonstop about the gig.

But I had given up the band,

the music, Ahsan, for

You look nice.

Thanks.

And yet, no matter what I did,

why did it feel like

I was always being judged?

Welcome, everyone,

to "Rate My Date."

Amina is looking for the yin

to her yang,

the flap to her jack,

the cute crop top

to her high-waisted slacks.

And you, the esteemed panel

of absolute randomers,

will determine

if Amina is worthy of love

or if we should

give her the shove.

So I heard

you were in a band.

Bad girl, huh?

What? No, I'm not bad.

No, you're naughty.

Playing naughty music, huh?

It's not naughty music.

It's meaningful.

It actually

has something to say.

I bet it does.

Ooh!

So do you give blow jobs?

What?

What did you say?

Do you, you know,

give blow jobs?

f*ck this.

sh*t. Sorry. f*ck me.

I'm sorry.

- What?

- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being sh*t.

I should have messaged

and not been a psycho.

I don't know.

I care about you,

with feelings.

- With feelings?

- Yeah.

But I can't─ we can't─

There are things

that you want─

not bad things, normal things,

human things that you want

that I can't─

Ow.

I free you.

What?

We're officially unofficial.

By the power vested in me,

I unshackle you

from my evil man domination.

Boom.

Um cool.

I'll see you around,

though, right?

- Like

- Yeah.

Yeah.

Sounds good.

I'm sorry.

I couldn't throw these away.

It's fine.

I know you're different

to me.

And although it may not

look it,

I do have few years on you.

What I will say is this,

and I hope you listen.

I think

it is vitally important,

more than anything,

that you do exactly what it is

you want to do.

Not what anyone

tells you to do.

Not what anyone

expects you to do.

What you want to do.

It's not that easy.

I know.

It has never been that easy.

But it is crucial.

This came for you.

All right. Thank you.

Enjoy the show.

Have you heard from Amina?

She's ignoring my calls.

Whoa, it's busy.

- sh*t.

- Aw.

f*ck.

Speak, for your two lips

are free.

Speak, for your tongue

is still your own.

This straight body

still is yours.

Speak, your life

is still your own.

Sparta!

Time enough

is this brief hour

until body and tongue

lie dead.

Speak, for truth

is living yet.

Speak whatever must be said.

Ma, we need to leave.

Let's roll.

One, two, three, four!

I'm gonna k*ll my sister ♪

Ma, hurry up.

We're gonna be late.

Babe, where you going?

Noor, I'm playing the gig

with Lady Parts.

What?

I'm gonna k*ll my sister ♪

Die, die, die! ♪

Want to k*ll her mister ♪

She's mine, m*therf*cker! ♪

You're my best friend,

and I'd love you to be there.

No.

No.

Fair enough.

Booyah.

Amina!

Good luck.

Thanks.

I'd like to dedicate

our next song

to my sister, Ruksana.

To all our sisters.

Blood, not blood.

Um, this isn't ours,

but we love it.

I've paid my dues ♪

Time after time ♪

I've done my sentence ♪

But committed no crime ♪

And bad mistakes ♪

I've made a few ♪

I've had my share of sand

kicked in my face ♪

But I've come through ♪

And we mean to go on

and on and on and on ♪

We are the champions,

my friends ♪

And we'll keep on fighting

till the end ♪

We are the champions ♪

We are

the champions ♪

Okay! Okay! Go, go!

For losers ♪

'Cause we are the champions ♪

Of the world ♪

Amina, you made it!

Right. Come on.

Come here, come here.

I've taken my bow ♪

My curtain call ♪

Amina!

Male escort reporting for duty.

Geek.

I thank you all ♪

Right. This way.

Just through here.

Good luck!

Amina, you have got this.

But it's been

no bed of roses ♪

No pleasure cruise ♪

I consider it a challenge

before the whole human race ♪

And I ain't gonna lose ♪

And we mean to go on and on

and on and on ♪

We are the champions,

my friends ♪

And we'll keep on fighting

till the end ♪

Whoo!

We are the champions ♪

We are

the champions ♪

No time for losers ♪

'Cause we are the champions ♪

Of the world ♪

- Sparta!

- Sparta!

Whoo!