Wow! God!
Last night was a massive one. Hm.
Couldn't have done it without my wingman. Heh.
Uh.
Good morning.
Ah!
The traditional full English breakfast. Lovely.
Really sets you up for the day.
Er, anyone for tea or coffee?
Ooh, no. Er...
Juice, water? Mm.
Yeah, water, but not hot and not cold.
Just sort of... tepid.
Oh. No.
That's disgusting.
Eurgh.
Um... yeah,
maybe you should just give it a rest.
No, it's only weed. Class C. Right.
Class C in the morning, class B in the afternoon, class A at night.
That's why they give them letters. Right, Oregon?
Yeah.
Everyone knows that.
Anyway...
Uhh. I'm powering through.
Massive one last night, massive one tonight.
Safer to keep going.
It's just science.
Do you think your dad's pissed off with you?
Yeah. It's gonna be the brunch from hell,
the mother of all brunches.
Weeping, shitting and lamentation. Yeah.
I had a barney with my mum over my choice of phone tariff.
I was all like, "Back off, sugar tits. This is my shit."
My dad's from the old school, you know?
The only time he unbuckles is to administer a 360-degree arse storm.
Have you considered adoption as an adult?
Because I have.
No, man. I fucking love it.
Harsh boundaries, maximum slappage.
You know where you stand with that shee-ite.
a verbal assessment or a ritual humiliation
or a trial of strength?
Are you going to the writer's briefing meeting as well?
What? You know I've always wanted to do some journalism.
Right, I see.
So, er, you're a newspaper "virgin" too?
I suppose the next thing, I'll find out
you're employed by the Sunday Times.Are you still annoyed
that I slept with someone else? Even though you're still going out
with your long-term boyfriend, who you led me believe you'd broken up with.
Is your friend Ruth coming, too?
Because she could write a great column
called How To Be A Mad Diva Slut Fuck!
Hi, Dave.
So... I assume this is about the court appearance?
What court appearance?
Oh, you didn't hear about the court appearance?
Oh.
Shit.
Um...
Basically, I went on a student demo,
and the police kettled us for, like, no reason whatsoever,
and I felt compelled to kick some pretty serious ass.
I see.
So what was the upshot of this court appearance?
Thrown out on a technicality.
So...
let the scrotum wrenching begin.
Well, that's your business.
You're a grown-up now, Jonathan.
Allegedly.
So that's not why you're here?
No, I've come up to see your Uncle Donald,
and your mother insisted that I say hello.
You know what she's like.
She's convinced herself you've got scurvy or rickets or something.
Well, you can tell Mum that the only disease I'm in danger of getting
is a sexually transmitted one.
Do you have an STD?
N-No, I-I definitely don't.
Hold on, I thought you hated Uncle Donald,
ever since the secateurs incident.
Yes.
Well, it's a professional visit.
Isn't he like a... a doctor or...? What is he?
He's a heart surgeon.
And I've had a heart attack.
You had a heart attack?
What? Yes.
When was it? I don't know.
Six or seven weeks ago.
I can't believe you didn't bloody mention it.
Well, I'm sorry, I was a bit busy
having and then recuperating from a heart attack.
You couldn't call me?
Not even a text?
"Jonathan, had a hearters. OK now."
Slanty face.
Didn't want to bother you.
I can't believe you didn't tell me.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me."
Well, I've told you now.
Are you, you know, OK?
Yes, yes, I'm fine.
Just can't eat or drink anything interesting ever again.
OK, bye.
Dave just proposed.
Fuck off.
I'm serious.
Oh, my God. What a dick.
What a total dick. No offence.
No. He just rings up
and proposes over the phone? On a Monday morning?
What, was he stuck in traffic and just decided
he'd ask you to marry him while waiting for the lights to change?!
Yeah. But...
maybe he's been feeling like this for a really long time
and he just thought, "If I don't say this, I'm gonna burst."
No. Nah.
He's just worried that now you're at uni, you might stray,
thought he'd better keep a tie on you.
Yeah. Marriage is lovely, isn't it?
Lovely for the medieval women
who got married at puberty
as punishment for showing their ankles to the farmer's boy.
This is 2011! You need to sow your oats.
Then get married to a fuckdog in Vegas, off your face on ketamine.
Yeah.
Bless him for asking, though.
I just need to let him down gently.
No, you won't!
You need to go round to his house and bash him in the bollocks with a brick.
That might be the coke talking.
It really fucking isn't!
So, should I say congratulations?
Oh, fuck off, Kingsley, you...
dick lord.
Not the most devastating insult!
What are you staring at?
Lauren.
Geology Girl. Oh.
She's so fit.
Yeah.
But is she?
Or have we just been brainwashed by lack of female contact?
Interesting. Mm.
Like two lonely submarine commandos wanking to the shipping forecast.
No. She's definitely fit.
And she knows it.
Look at her...
preening.
What a dick.
All... lovely
and knowing she's lovely.
Disgusting.
Maybe one of us should ask her out...
as a joke.
It'd be funny because...
we hate her.
Yes, do that. What?
I'll... I'll film it on my phone, it will be hilarious. Lauren, Lauren!
I was just wondering if you wanted to meet up after lectures for a drink?
Hm!
Wow, that's... direct.
I completely understand.
It was pretty full-on, what you said in the Stratigraphy tutorial...
that the Earth is expanding, but no-one wants to talk about it.
Yes.
Of course.
It's interesting.
Yeah.
I'd like to go for a drink.
Let's do that.
Wow, you're taking this seriously.
Is that a graph? Why have you done a graph?
None of your business.
Anyway, how's your pitch?
Fine.
What's that on your hand?
Does that say "demo"? It's my notes. Research.
Ah, yes, because...
all the greats do filing on their own bodies!
Yeah.
I heard Julian Assange wrote most of WikiLeaks on his legs. Only way to go.
OK. So...
you're not guaranteed to get anything in this week's issue,
but this is a chance for you to run your ideas past us.
We can give you a bit of a steer.
You don't need to put your hand up,
but, er, yes, go ahead.
Oh, hello, yes. Um, I'd like to do a piece on the recent anti-cuts demo.
That's my idea.
You stole my idea. Shut up, fuckhead.
Yes, a sort of, um, Up The Spout...
A View From Inside The Kettle.
OK. We'll consider a short eyewitness account.
Oh. Great, thanks!
Right, let's carry on this way round the room.
Er, yes?
Er, yeah.
Um... I was thinking of doing a piece about...
students,
student life.
A day in the life of a student.
Right? Yeah, like, um...
the stuff the papers ignore,
like toast, the eternal debate.
Smooth or crunchy? Or...
Marmite, love it or hate it?
Is it the classic Marmite product?
Great. I'll be taking zero words on that.
Look, we're open to columns and stuff,
but it really needs to have some edge. OK?
Next... I'd like to do an article...
Yeah.
I know.
Just... Just keep me posted, OK?
Hello.
Howard, hi, hello.
Um...
this is Mike.
Hello.
Yeah?
And... you are?
She's already said, I'm Mike. And...
are you a Geology person? Nah.
What... sort of person are you?
I do Management and Leisure. What fucking difference does it make?
Just...
making conversation between...
fellow persons. Why? Are you chatting me up?
Would anyone like a drink?
I'm fine, thank you.
A pint of wife beater, if you're buying.
A pint of...
wife beater...
for Mike.
Are you OK? Yeah,
fine, cracking form. Why? Just...
warm beer in the middle of the day, with your teeth.
I don't really want to talk about it, all right?
OK.
It's my dad.
Is he OK? He's just...
so fucking boring.
He's all like,
"Do you want to talk about boring old man stuff?"
And I'm like, "No, I don't. That's boring."
I wish I'd just been...
hatched from an egg so I didn't have to deal with fucking RoboDad
and his mechanical failings.
You know?
Yeah.
The thing about tennis
is I don't really give a shit if it's aerobic for anaerobic or whatever.
Problem is, it's not a sport
cos it's not played by a team.
Right. I think a lot of people think tennis is a sport.
But I totally see what you mean.
Do you mind if I read?
Oregon!
I feel weird.
Like, I can't feel my arm,
or I can but it's not mine,
and everything looks kind of like I'm on a motorway.
Am I on a motorway?
Am I all right, Oregon?
Ahhh...
What's going on? Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Vod might be having a in overdose.
I don't think she is. Oh, my God.
I'm not good in an crisis. Right, shall I call an ambulance?
Fuck, no. Half that coke's mine. If the cops come, that makes me
like an accessory. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Is she breathing? She must be breathing.
She keeps saying, "Oh, my God."
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
I mean, you can't say things unless you're breathing, can you?
Put her in the recovery position.
What's that? I don't know.
Relax. I know the recovery position.
Come on, Vod.
Oh!
Shit. No, wait.
I know the Heimlich manoeuvre.
Do you want the Heimlich manoeuvre, Vod?
Is she actually having an overdose? Of course she is.
Not necessarily.
She might just be having a disturbingly brilliant time.
Right, OK, um... we should ask her if she's having an overdose,
because if she thinks she is, then she probably is.
OK, um, Vod, do you think you're having an overdose?
Mm.
Oh, my God. Whoa.
Right, that's it. I'm calling an ambulance.
You're fucking not. I'm not going to prison.
I'm posh and pretty.
They will batter me both ends.
Well, if we do nothing and she dies, then we're all going to prison, OK?
I've read The Secret History. This is how this kind of shit starts up.
She's not gonna die. Realistically, she might die.
We've just got to open ourselves to that possibility.
Shut up, Howard.
Why did you bring a beer? It's not a road trip.
This is in Vod's honour.
If a man goes down, you don't stop the war, you battle through. Apoc-a-lash.
Why are hospitals so grim?
Would it be because they're museums of death?
Vod partied her way into hospital, the ultimate party destination,
I mean, she is gonna be a legend on campus.
Just have a think about it.
Hiya.
I'll leave you to your friends.
Hey, guys.
Hey, Vod.
We got you a "get well" card.
Oh, wow.
How'd you get Paul Lamb, the Invisible Man, to sign it?
He didn't. That was me.
I just thought it should be from all us.
Did you do the others as well? No.
Just him.
And Howard.
I don't do cards.
It's nothing personal.
Can we get you anything?
Yeah.
Can I have a cup of tea? Right-o.
Cup of tea for the legend.
Brought you a copy of the paper, just in case you wanted to have a read.
Or...
would you be OK to maybe chat?
Yeah.
My throat's a bit sore from all the stomach pumping.
Oh, no!
Sorry to hear that.
So... what was it like having your stomach pumped?
How's it going, old dude?
Here you are, geeze. Thank you.
Hang in there.
What's wrong? Hey.
No... Er, all good.
Just...
you know, need to sit down.
Seeing all these old people's really tiring. You know?
I get... I get like that sometimes.
Like, art galleries, all the old paintings...
they're tiring.
What's going on?
My dad's had a heart attack.
Um...
I've... I've kind of been going through some tough home shit as well.
Yeah?
It's just, um... I've had this horse,
Roulette.
Um, I've had him since I was 12
and I think we're gonna have to put him down.
Like, soon.
And... A horse?
That's not the same.
What? A horse and a dad,
that's not the same.
No. Oh, no, I wasn't saying that... Seriously,
not cool, Oregon.
It's a horse.
It's basically just a big fucking dog.
I know that it's just...
I know that it's just basically, factually, just a horse,
but it's like...
Roulette was my whole childhood,
and I feel like my whole childhood is about to be shot in the head.
Yeah, well, I guess that's pretty shit.
Thanks.
Hey, I kind of love the fact that you had a horse, though.
You're one of me.
Well...
no, I mean, I'm not.
Not really. Um...
You know, we had him on loan for the first few years and, er,
then we bought him really cheap,
and... his tack was always second-hand.
I don't even wear proper boots.
I just wear trainers and fuck up my feet.
Ooh!
Edgy.
Grunge horse.
Gotcha.
You big posho.
Have you told your parents?
No, they wouldn't care.
I don't even know where my dad is.
Do you need to nominate a next of kin? Who would that be?
Oregon?
Nah, Oregon's my wingman!
That's like the opposite of next of kin!
And how do you feel now?
You're asking a lot of questions.
I'm just concerned. Better.
Less like I'm on a motorway.
Well, you look well.
Yeah, you look really well.
You don't. They're lying.
So... has all this made you stop and think,
do you think?
Is it like...
a life-changing moment?
Are you taking notes?
No! Just...
doodling.
Are you...?
Is this for the Blaster?
This is sort of like a really shit roller coaster.
Just give me a shout
when you've made your decision, Vod.
Yeah. Decision?
They think maybe I should think about rehab or a women's centre.
Rehab? Wow!
How do you feel about that?
Is that a real question?
Yes, it is a real question! I'm interested for my friend.
Look, rehab is nothing to be ashamed of.
This has got clay pigeon shooting.
Is that a good idea?
Giving depressed and mentally unstable people guns?
So, we good to go?
They think I should stay.
Um, they said that Vod should enter a drugs treatment program.
There's a spare bed in the Women's Crisis Centre.
Crisis? What crisis?
Look at you.
You're a lege, all right? You've just done a massive one, that's all.
Yeah, I mean, rehab?
Bit much.
Yeah, she's saying that, she's your wingman.
Or, if you want to top yourself, they've got guns.
Howard! Look,
I just think Vod should be left to make the decision on her own.
This is bullshit. She's been brainwashed.
If you actually read the leaflets...
Oh! Read the leaflet! Talk to the doctors!
Whoop-de-fucking-doo, Kingsley.
This girl knows how to live.
Come on, Vod!
Back to Hartnell, big fry-up,
couple of episodes of Rastamouse, you'll be right as rain.
JP, it's not normal to end up in hospital after a night out.
Uh, hello? Yes, it is!
Now, come on, Vod. Let's blow this joint.
Yeah, fuck it, let's go.
Vod... We are busting you out of here.
You can stick your Crisis Centre, Nurse Jackie.
The natural order has been restored.
You tried to step into the world of the normals,
but they identified you as a replicant.
From now on, it's just you and the rocks, my friend.
You're safe among the rocks.
Howard?
Hi. I was looking for you.
I'm really sorry about Mike.
He's just a weird guy from my corridor who I couldn't shake off.
Oh, right.
Can we meet up again?
OK. Great.
How about Film Club tomorrow?
I don't understand.
It's like I'm getting dragged over hot coals and punched in the balls
again and again.
And I'm loving it.
You can't go to Film Club with her.
Film Club is our thing.
Maybe we could go next week. No!
Next week it's Beethoven.
I don't want to see Beethoven again.
I do, however, want to see 2001 again.
I heart 2001.
I've already agreed to go with Lauren.
Come on, Howard, don't be pathetic!
Well, look, maybe we could meet for a drink before,
and then I'll see Lauren after.
Oh, yeah, I'll be your nasty little amuse-bouche
before your big lovely sex dinner!
I'd be thrilled about that, Howard. Thrilled!
Um... so, Vod, what do you think about drugs now?
I don't really think about things, to be honest.
Here you go.
What about that time when you vomited on that guy when you were fucking him?
Yeah, that was actually a really good night.
Life is so fucked up.
And harsh.
And random.
Yeah.
You just need to grab it by the horns, you know?
Do everything,
see everything, snort everything.
Yeah! Like Vod! Yeah!
Let's get properly fucked. Let's do a Vod.
Yeah, I was being sarcastic.
Count me out.
I've, er, got a date.
With Geology Girl.
We're gonna see 2001 at the Film Club.
Perfect. Go to 2001.
We'll neck a fistful of tabs,
like proper full-on acid trip,
break through to the other side.
Acid? Really? Isn't that, you know, a bit...?
Dangerous.
A previous Hartnell resident did acid,
convinced himself that his trip was never gonna end
and he was gonna die of sleep deprivation.
I had to listen to him talking about it for 14 hours.
That doesn't sound too bad.
It was very boring.
So... newsflash.
We're all doing acid.
A proper massive trip. Break through to the other side. Vod, are you in?
Don't be ridiculous!
I actually have another anecdote on this topic.
Shut up, Howard. What do you mean?
She just got out of hospital, for fuck's sake. She's not gonna do acid.
Er, "she"? Who's "she"? I'm sorry, Vod.
It's just, I don't think you should.
Maybe she can decide that herself.
It's just very unusual for me to have another anecdote on a topic.
Well, why don't you go and write about it on your fucking blog, Howard?
OK, she is not an expert on drugs.
She took too many and ended up in hospital.
That makes her the opposite of an expert.
Fuck's sake, Josie! Just stop being such a choirgirl.
We just want to have a laugh,
and hard drugs are a reliable way to do that.
And the more you take, the better you feel. That is well documented.
Kingsley, back me up here.
I think Vod can make her own decisions.
Right.
Because it would be good for your article if she had another overdose.
Might even be better if she died.
I mean, you might make the front page.
Article? What article?
The reason that Kingsley has been asking all those questions
is because he's writing an article about you for the Blaster.
Oh, yeah?
And the thing is, you'll have no control over how you come across.
I mean, he might make you out to be some skanky, druggie... junkie whore.
You're not the sort of person who cares what other people think about you?
No, couldn't give a shit. Been called worse.
Been called worse by my nan.
There you go.
It's all fine. Why do you even give a shit
if we all do a trip anyway? It's not like it's any of your business.
I give a shit because I'm a normal human being.
I know you think it's cool to be studenty and rebellious,
but what about in five years' time, when you're in a clinic
thinking you've bust through to the other side,
but actually, you're just rocking back and forth in a Slanket
singing the word "bonkers" to the Dizzee Rascal song
that's playing on a loop in your head?!
By which time, Vod will be dead, because...
Josie, can I just say...
thanks for the tea,
but I can look after myself.
I mean, I kind of need to make choices, you know?
Choices? Yeah.
And my choice is...
to take shit-loads of acid.
God has given me a brain,
and I'm choosing to do some pretty wicked stuff to it.
Which may or may not result in further hospitalisation.
And if you don't like it, you can lick my hairy strap-on.
The Vodster! Back in the game!
I'm not gonna go mad, am I?
I'm not gonna start seeing skulls and cutting myself?
That sort of thing... You'll be fine.
You might enjoy science fiction a bit more. End of.
Yeah, people do this shit all the time.
They don't all end up living homeless, thinking they're dingoes.
It's nice to have you to myself this time.
I'm serious.
Really?
Hey, guys.
Fancy seeing you here.
This is great, isn't it?
Now I have an audience for my ironic director's commentary.
You're in for an absolute treat.
Sorry they didn't use your piece.
I don't give a shit.
I did it in, like, five minutes, so...
Hi, Kingsley. Oh, hi.
Congrats on the piece. Why don't you join us for a drink?
We always have a debrief after we've gone off stone.
Nothing fancy, just some wine and nibbles.
Shall we?
I'm not invited.
She was talking to both of us. No,
she was talking to you. She was angled towards you.
She was angled away from me. Well...
even if you're not invited, I'm sure I could get you in.
Wow, the big man can get me in!
What, tucked inside your coat?!
Hidden under your massive talent?!
How exciting!
I can be a groupie for a guy who just got an article in the student paper.
Josie... Can I give you a blow job
while you read me your article, because that would be amazing?
Right, fuck it, let's do this shit.
To your very good health. Chin-chins.
Howard!
I think... I think he's probably just really nervous about tripping.
Yeah.
That's why he necks it down so fast, you know.
Yeah, that's classic nerves. Yeah.
I've seen that a lot. Check it out.
Just necked a tab of acid.
Fucking shitting myself, but it's gonna be bloody brilliant!
Oh! Hello.
Am I tripping already?
Is she real?
JP!
Your phone's goin'.
Oh, you get it.
I'm hallucinating that Howard has a girlfriend.
She-she feels so real!
JP's dad just had another heart attack.
His mum wants us to drive him home...
to Cornwall.
That means we can't do this trip.
Oh, yeah, I know.
Gutted.
So where are we going?
We're going for a drive.
We're gonna put some tunes on,
and you can look out of window.
When you look at the world through a window,
it makes it awesome, like TV.
Look!
Wow!
And I was like, excuse me, Philip Roth,
just because you call it the Great American Novel
doesn't mean it is the Great American Novel.
Did I tell you about the time Dave Eggers...?
We were on a flight together...
All the way to JFK...
Hello.
'Hi, this is Josie. Leave me a message.'
She was a bit weird with the popcorn.
It's a cinema. It's dark.
Go on, say it. She's a rough eater.
And she has archaeologist hair.
Hey!
Arguably, she is a bit of a rough eater, but...
Oh, hi, Lauren.
Howard was just saying what a rough eater you are,
weren't you, Howard? I-I...
And that you have archaeologist hair. What?!
Lauren, would you like to come back to my room?
Great. Let's all go back to your room. You're not invited.
I think I might go.
There, you see?
We've lost her. We'velost her?
We...
Lauren, please don't go.
We could go to PizzaExpress.
I love the way you eat. It's pretty.
I don't like pizza. You're not invited.
You're not part of this. You never were.
I'm sorry. This is too weird.
Bye, Lauren.
And we're back in reality.
You've ruined...
everything.
Come on, it was a bit of a joke.
Howard and the romance dating?
It wasn't to me, right...
Oh, so you have feelings now, HAL?
Oh, well done, you. Just...
Fuck you!
That's it. What?
You and me. We've broken up. We're done.
If me and you were a couple in a soap opera, I'd be like...
"I'm leaving you, Brian.
"I'm leaving you."
Awesome trees!
They are awesome!
Oh, no.
Not now.
Not now! What's the matter?
We have to make a detour.
I don't think that's a good idea. Awesome trees!
Fuck, yeah.
We have to make a detour. Why?
For Roulette.
My horse.
What?
I know.
You've got a horse? I know.
An actual horse horse?
With hooves and a saddle?
And a massive horse face? Yes!
Probably seems a bit ridiculous, right?
Yeah.
I really need to go and visit him.
It's not too far.
I promise I'll be quick. Yeah, well,
I think JP's drive is a little more important than your horse.
Awesome tune! Yeah!
Please, Vod, I'm begging you. He's dying.
OK, fine.
It's gotta be quick.
OK.
This is it.
This is your house?
Yep.
It's fucking massive. It's not that big.
No wonder you needed a horse.
You couldn't get round it on foot.
I thought you said your dad was unemployed?
Yeah, he is.
He's retired and he's not rich. It's just all in property.
Property?
Yeah, so it's not liquid. Um, none of it's liquid.
Oh, yeah, fair enough.
Yeah, it's like if you've got a load of money
but it's in the bank, you're actually poor.
It's not the same.
Did you get invited to the Royal wedding?
I'm not posh, OK?
Where are we?
Oregon's house.
Oh, yeah.
Oregon is a massive posho...
blud.
Pass the wet towel, Melissa.
Melissa?
Who's Melissa?
You're Melissa?
Technically. Legally.
Oh, so is there anything else?
Er, are you really the Duchess of Chester?
Do you sell your own range of sliced organic peacock?
Seriously, who the fuck are you and what's with all the secrets?
Look, Vod, I'm really sorry.
I knew I shouldn't have trusted you.
I thought you were my mate.
I am. Oh...
Hey, boy.
Look at you.
Look at you
and your lovely silky neck.
He's really ill, isn't he?
He's not gonna make it.
We've never talked, have we?
Because...
you're a horse, and...
I'm a stranger.
But we can still be close.
We can still have a connection.
You're not boring.
Just because you're a horse doesn't mean that you're boring.
I really want a hug.
But you can't hug me, can you?
Cos you haven't got any arms.
I can give you a hug...
because I have got arms.
And... and they're not just for rowing.
Please don't leave me!
Please don't leave me, big guy.
I love you!
I'm glad I didn't come from an egg.
I want a hug!
Hey, hey, hey, guess what!
What?
I'm engaged!
You're engaged?
Who to?
Dave.
My lovely Dave.
You said yes?
To Dave? Yep.
Oh, isn't it brilliant, Howard?
All relationships are doomed.
If you emotionally undress in front of someone,
they will pour acid on your shivering skin and leave you to die.
God, isn't this just great?
I propose a toast. Yay, a toast!
To you and your incredibly short-lived marriage.
May your second marriage be longer and happier.
I bid you good night.
Right.
Well...
that's you off the invite list, then.
Good. I wouldn't want to watch you weeping through the whole ceremony anyway.
I will be weeping - weeping with joy.
Only if Dave gets hit by a bus on the way to the church.
You are a total dick!
Better to be a total dick than to marry one.
More cava? Why not?
So... this is a bit awkward.
How d'you mean?
"Oh, hi, JP's mum. Really nice to meet you.
"Sorry about your husband just having died and everything."
Yeah, that is a bit... "Oh, by the way,
"your son's coming down from an acid trip, so don't panic
"if he starts talking about being able
"to see your dead husband standing behind you,
"doing pottery like a posh Patrick Swayze."
Yeah, let's not...
"Oh, and we're his housemates. I'm Vod.
"Just got out the hospital after a drugs overdose,
"and this is Oregon, although her name's actually Melissa,
"and she's a compulsive liar who has a horse."
Hada horse.
I'm sorry, Oregon.
That's nice.
Oh, Vod!
JP's mum looks nice.
Hey, maybe she's got a spare horse she can give you.
Do you want me to go and ask her if she's got a horse?
No!
Yeah, I know. I was joking.
I know.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd, MemoryOnSmells www.addic7ed.com