Jurying

[Opening credits]

[Mark walks into the kitchen and brings the post while Jeremy is eating breakfast]

Mark: Another hard day, eh, Jez? Watching kids' TV and eating kids' cereal?

Jeremy: Oh alright. What should I be having? Gentleman's relish with olives? Anyway, Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes are just Frosties for wankers.

Mark: Yeah well, Frosties are just Corn Flakes for people who can't face reality.

Jeremy: Anything from Soph?

Mark: She's been very very busy, far too busy for post. Don't think she'll actually be coming down over the weekend. She wants to It's just there's this thing.

Jeremy: That sounds important.

Mark: What am I gonna do, Jez? Feels like she's slipping through my fingers.

Jeremy: Have you told her you love her?

Mark: Are you kidding? That's like firing first in a duel. If you miss, you're fucked.

Jeremy: No, no, mate - Saying I love you puts you in the driving seat. Sometimes I tell them I love them early on on a first date, just to get things off to a good start.

Mark: Doesn't that devalue it a bit?

Jeremy: No. Maybe. A bit. Who cares, It works.

Mark: Aren't you going to open your post?

Jeremy: What? No, it's boring. "You may have won this. You may owe us that." Who cares.

Mark: Jeremy, That one's On Her Majesty's Service, for God's sake.

Jeremy: Oh, sure, it's On Her Majesty's Service, delivered by the Royal Mail. Probably an invitation to one of Princess Anne's shepherds pie and dogging parties. See? Now they want me to do jury service.

Mark: Jury service? You've been called up for jury service? I can't believe they'd choose you! Must be some kind of mistake.

Jeremy: Why shouldn't I do jury service?

Mark: Well - Because your... critical facult - I'm not being rude, but you'd be the first to admit that you're not a very logical thinker.

Jeremy: No, I wouldn't.

Mark: You still don't properly understand what happened in Ocean's Eleven, do you?

Jeremy: It's a complicated film.

Mark: It really isn't.

Jeremy: Anyway, I'd probably find jury service pretty simple. Because whatever it is, I'll just let them off.

Mark: Jeremy, Don't try and upset me.

Jeremy: It's probably some young black kid whose been accused of stealing a bun, and I'm gonna set him free.

Mark: Don't you think you should wait till you hear the details!

Jeremy: That's what they want you to do - hear the details and confuse you. I'm definitely gonna acquit.

[Mark and Jeff in a JLB Credit meeting with Johnson]

Johnson: So listen up guys. I'm looking to shake up the department, and I want you two to be my enforcers. Mm? My Cheech and Chong. My Skinner and Baddiel. You'll be the iron fists inside my velvet glove. The spiky balls on the end of my stick. Yeah?

Mark: Nice, yes.

Johnson: Now remind me, which one of you two is balling Sophie right now?

Jeff: Ah, he is. Well, theoretically.

Johnson: Patrick tells me she's not getting on all that well in Bristol.

Mark: Really? (If she gets fired and everything goes wrong, I'll be there to pick up the pieces.)

Johnson: She's been slacking off. Coming in late. Apparently, she called Colin Cooper a dickhead.

Jeff: Well, he is a dickhead.

Johnson: Yeah well the point is someone's gotta talk to her. Mark, maybe you could have a word? Get her to clean up her act? Unofficial verbal warning. Is that cool?

Mark: Oh, OK, sure.

[Jeff laughs mockingly]

Mark: (Bollocks. Could be a difficult call. It might be good. Tell her I love her, then before it gets too soppy, hit her with the disciplinary matters.)

[Mark and Jez meet at the supermarket]

Mark: Jez! So, first day in court, tell me everything.

Jeremy: Mark, I've taken a solemn oath. I know that doesn't mean a lot to you but I take it quite seriously.

Mark: I could get us a fried chicken bucket for dinner. And from a properly franchised outlet, not the one that gave you that fever.

Jeremy: It's credit card fraud, and it's a woman. Six counts, Four in a Nescliffe area, two in Cosford.

Mark: Credit card fraud?! Nescliffe?! A woman?! Oh, my God, this is incredible!

Jeremy: Oh, sure, it sounds incredible for the first three hours. God, it's boring. "Are you guilty? Blah, blah, blah." I mean It's a joke, she's obviously guilty.

Mark: Why? Has she taken the stand? What's her alibi?

Jeremy: She's the guilty type, she looks shifty.

Mark: Shifty?

Jeremy: Yeah you know the type. Dressed up all nice for court but wouldn't look out of place with a can of strong lager and an incredibly cheap fag in her mouth.

Mark: I thought you were going to acquit.

Jeremy: She's white. Plus I was talking to another jury bloke and he thinks the same. I think were all thinking the same basically you know, there's no smoke without fire.

Mark: No smoke without fire! Is that what a thousand years of the English judicial system comes down to? No smoke without fire?!

Jeremy: Mark, relax She's going down. And if she didn't do it, so what? She's the type, she'd probably just do something else.

[Mark is sitting at his computer at work]

Mark: (Ah, soup. Lovely hug in a mug. All I need now is a kiss in a tube. A wank in a packet. Better call Sophie. Or maybe, just before, play solitaire for three or four hours.)

[Mark's phone rings]

Mark: (Shit, it's her!) Hello, Sophie?

Sophie: Hi, Mark! Listen, good news. I'm coming down tonight.

Mark: Are you?

Sophie: Yeah! Can we hang out tonight? I miss you.

Mark: Of course, I - I miss you too. Although, tonight, you do know it's Thursday?

Sophie: Oh yeah, I'll just pull a sickie in the morning

Mark: Oh, ok (Johnson's right, she's dangerously out of control.)

Sophie: So, I'll come over to yours about seven-ish? Ooh this is going to be great!

Mark: Brilliant. Bye. (Shit. Bottled it. Tell her tonight after chicken and wine and Sara Lee. Maybe I could get some chocolate-flavour condoms. I might be more relaxed if we both regarded my penis as a novelty item.)

[Jeremy takes a break from jury service at a cafe]

Jeremy: (Oh the jury is so boring. Why couldn't I get something interesting, like a cat-strangling, or a murder case that goes right to the heart of government? [Jeremy spots the defendant at the cafe] Oh, my God it's her. The defendant.)

Carla: Do I know you? God, you're on the jury, aren't you?

Jeremy: Yeah. Yeah, I am a bit. Sorry.

Carla: Wow, this is weird.

Jeremy: Yup! I probably shouldn't

Carla: Well I shouldn't, probably.

Jeremy: To be honest, it's nice to get away from the jury. They're so boring. All they want to talk about is the case.

Carla: Yeah... What they saying about me then?

Jeremy: (Shit) Oh, just uh... We all think you're innocent.

Carla: Really? That's wicked!

Jeremy: (Just sugar the pill a bit.)

Carla: I know i probably shouldn't do this but what's your name?

Jeremy: Jeremy.

Carla: Pleased to meet you. I'm Carla. Tell you what though, I'll be glad when this is all over. Those wooden chairs are killing my back.

Jeremy: Oh god, tell me about it. That's why I sit in the corner, because you can sort of lean against the wall, and then if it gets a bit boring you can - you know, It's just better.

Carla: What about that judge, though, eh?

Jeremy: Oh God, yeah. He's so judgmental. "I rule this, I rule that".

Carla: Ey that would be a good name for him. Judge Mental! [They both laugh] Hey, I tell you what, I plead guilty to wanting a mochaccino!

Jeremy: Objection!

Carla: Overruled!

Jeremy: This isn't wrong, just illegal. Like drink-driving.

[Jeremy is back at the jury meeting]

Foreman: You'd have thought she could've come up with a better alibi than that.

Jeremy: (Oh I'm the foreman, I'm the foreman. Only I get to talk to the judge. Fuck you. [Jeremy gets a text: Do you want to go for a drink later? Carla.] Jesus, this just gets better and better!)

Foreman: So should we take a vote?' All those who think she's guilty raise a hand.

[Everyone raises their hand except Jeremy]

Jeremy: (They can't send her down, they don't know her. I don't know her. But I do fancy her.)

Jeremy: Er, yeah, I just don't think she is that guilty. I mean I think there is a reasonable doubt.

[Murmuring]

Jeremy: (I'm in Twelve Angry Men. I'm the only one who's not angry. I'm horny. That's much nicer.)

[At Mark and Jez's flat]

Mark: (Oh what a night. We'll eat and laugh and I'll make out I think Collin Cooper's a dickhead too, when actually he's doing bloody good work with a difficult team and some very testing targets.)

Jeremy: [Reading text messages] Haha! Haha haha. Hurhurhurhur

Mark: What's funny?

Jeremy: Oh, nothing. Doesn't matter.

Mark: Is it something to do with the case?

Jeremy: Er, yeah, it is, kind of.

Mark: Yeah. What's going on?

Jeremy: It's really, honestly, it's nothing.

Mark: Did the uncle show up? They haven't found the missing security tapes from Ryman's?

Jeremy: No, no, it's nothing like that. Anyway that doesn't matter anymore because she's definitely innocent.

Mark: Is she? Why, what came out? What happened?

Jeremy: No, Nothing came out, it's just I got to know her a bit and it's obvious she wouldn't do something like that.

Mark: You got to know her a bit?

Jeremy: Yeah. We bumped into each other, we've been texting, we're going to go out for a drink.

Mark: For God's sake Jeremy, you're not supposed to speak to the defendant, it's against the law.

Jeremy: The only seat in the cafe was next to her. What was I supposed to do? Blank her? That's against the law. The law of social niceness.

Mark: Jeremy, you've got to break this off. You've got to tell her to stop texting you and that you can't meet up for a drink.

Jeremy: Oh right, so suddenly I can't go out drinking with the defendant. Well why not?

Mark: Well, I suppose people might think it would make you less impartial if you're trying to bone the woman you're meant to judging.

Jeremy: Oh that is typical. "Jeremy can't be trusted to judge the woman he's sleeping with but... but Tony Blair can. Yeah?

Mark: Jez. it's contempt of court.

Jeremy: Look Mark, I'm a musician in case you'd forgotten. Yeah? I answer to a higher law, the law of, "If it feels good, do it."

Mark: Oh, that's a great law isn't it! What's that, Gaddafi's law?

Jeremy: It's the musicians' law. Colonel Gaddafi could not lay down a bass hook, Mark. That should be clear even to you. God!

[Sophie rings the doorbell]

Mark: (Sophie! The Sophster! Sophistry!) Soph! Great to see you.

Sophie: Hi, Mark! So good to see you! How are you, you big lovely? This is lovely Dom.

Dom: Hiya.

Mark: Hi, Dom. Really great to meet you. (Oh great, Dom. And I suppose Dom's gonna have sex with Sophie while I film it on my camera phone.)

Dom: [Dom's phone rings] Oh, sorry, that's me. Sorry, I'm really gonna have to take this.

Sophie: Isn't he fab?!

Mark: (He's gay! He's obviously gay. My God, I actually have gaydar. ls he going? I hope he's going. Shutting the door might be a bit aggressive if he's not.)

Sophie: So how are you?

Mark: Oh, good, thanks. You look great.

Sophie: Thanks! Do you like my hair? Shaylee did it, she works in the juice bar with Dom. And she does Indian head massage too. God, it's orgasmic!

Mark: (Juice bar? Massage? Orgasm?! That's everything I stand against!)

Dom: Hey, that was Olly. He's with Jude and beautiful Laura. They want to meet up for cocktails at the Lava Lounge. What do you think?

Sophie: Ooh I don't know Mark. Oh you'd love Olly, he's such a great laugh.

Mark: That sounds great, it's just I've made chicken, I've got wine. I've got DVDs. Ocean's Twelve and Meet The Fockers.

Sophie: Right Er, we did see those at the cinema.

Mark: Yeah well It's sort of like a reminiscipackage. Plus there's commentaries, outtakes... bloopers.

Dom: Ooh, just come for one cocktail. Olly freaked out when I told him you were here. Oh, come on, he loves you, Soph. He'll literally puke if you don't come.

Sophie: What do you think, Mark? lt'd be fun.

Mark: Er, well, I guess I'd hate to be responsible for someone actually throwing up, so Yeah, great.

Sophie: Yayyyyy!

Mark: (You win this one, Sophie, but I will have my revenge. All Sunday at the National Maritime Museum.)

[Mark, Jeremy and Sophie are waiting in line at the gay bar]

Mark: (One cocktail. That was the arrangement. 'One cocktail, then home. Not four cocktails and off to a gay club.)

Jeremy: Oh Carla says she's sorry she couldn't make it for a drink but she'll meet us here instead.

Mark: (Great. Trapped all night with the homos and the criminals. Like prison, but without even the privacy of my own cell.)

Sophie: Oh Mark, if the bouncer asks, just say you're gay.

Mark: What?!

Bouncer: You been here before, mate? You gay, pal?

Mark: (Lie. Say yes, say yes.) No. No, I'm not. God, sorry. I mean I did once have this thing with a - I had these feelings, but it was complicated. It was more a sort of atmosphere, nothing ever really - I mean Sexuality's a sort of a spectrum isn't it, rather than a black and -

Bouncer: Go on. Fuck off. In you go.

Mark: Thanks, great. There are a lot of gay guys in there tonight? Great. Brilliant. [inside the gay club] (God, how did I end up here? And will I ever be allowed to leave? Just got to ride the waves of alienation and self loathing.)

Sophie: Are you having a good time?

Mark: Oh, yeah, wicked.

Dom: So how did you guys meet?

Jeremy: Oh, that's quite funny, actually.

Carla: It was at a trial.

Sophie: Oh right, are you a lawyer?

Carla: As a matter of fact I'm the defendant.

Jeremy: And I'm on the jury!

Carla: And the funniest part is, the trial isn't even over yet!

Dom: Oh, my God!

Sophie: That is so weird!

Mark: (And apparently I'm just a stick in the mud for thinking their breaking the law is anything other than one of those brilliant urban jokes.)

Mark: Jez, if I need the bog, this place, its official classification is "gay-friendly" yeah?

Jeremy: Yep, gay, gay-friendly.

Mark: Does that mean friendly gays, or friendly to the gays? Cos, to be honest, friendly gays sound not worse, but, you know

Jeremy: Oh Mark, what? You think you're irresistible?!

Mark: People... Men have looked at me.

Jeremy: Yeah, well just don't go over into that corner cos that's where the guys who like straight acting, tubby homophobes hang out.

Carla: Another drink, everybody? [pays for drinks with credit card]

Jeremy: Is erm? That isn't... Is that your name?

Carla: Oh yeah, it's a second marriage. A bit complicated.

Jeremy: Oh, right. The old magic card.

Carla: Well, you might think that, but I couldn't possibly comment.

Jeremy: (God she's amazing. She sees something she wants and she takes it. None of the "Is this mine or is it someone else's?" crap. She probably has men queuing up.) You know what, Carla? I think I love you.

Carla: You what? But you hardly know me.

Jeremy: So what? I'm a musician. I think on my feet. I speak with my heart.

[Jeremy and Carla kiss]

Jeremy: (Yep, Jailhouse Rock.)

Olly: I've got four brown bears and a couple of Foghorn Leghorns.

Sophie: Mark, are you interested?

Mark: Er well I'm not really sure I'd -

Sophie: Look I know it's not really your kind of thing, but that's what I thought before I did it and it's really good fun. I've done it a few times now, it's great.

Mark: Is there not even a slim chance that I might die?

Sophie: Mark, I had an amazing time, you'll love it. I want you to love it. It'll be a special night.

Mark: Yes. Of course. Sure.

Olly: Take a Foghorn. [Hands pill to Mark] They've got a nice, floaty launch with a soft, crunchy landing.

Mark: (So a candle stuck in a wine bottle apparently doesn't cut it any more. Now for a special night, you have to have class A drugs and... fisting.) [Marks pretends to take the pill]

Sophie:  Mark, I'm so proud of you!

Mark: She's proud of me? For taking a little white pill of drugs? But probably if I'd fought at Goose Green, she wouldn't want to know.)

Dom: We are gonna have such an amazing night.

Mark: (You are gonna have an amazing night. I am going to have a perfectly ordinary night. Right under your stupid nose.) [Mark opens his hand, revealing the pill he pretended to take]

[Mark walks up to Jeremy who's dancing on the dance floor]

Jeremy: Who'd have thought it ey? You and me out clubbing, you off your tits. I can genuinely see us eventually reminiscing about this.

Mark: Right yeah Jez, listen, the thing is, I didn't actually pop my pill. I'm pretending. In fact mate, I could do with a few pointers on how to be a druggie.

Jeremy: Oh Mark, why didn't you bang one?

Mark: Because I don't want to wake up dribbling in a phone box with a trucker's penis in my ear!

Jeremy: Mark that is so not the E experience. You're much more likely to wake up with depression and a sense of worthlessness.

Mark: But tonight, all that crap you talk when you're off your noggin, I never really listen. What do you prattle on about, and how should I say I'm feeling?

Jeremy: OK, look. Like, when you're coming up, it's kind of... [Makes spaced out facial gesture] Yeah? And then you're just, Everything you do is just kind of... [Makes another bizarre gesture] Yeah. And then when you're going down, you sort of just talk about how we're all the same but there are these systems that keep us apart and stuff.

Mark: OK, thanks.

Sophie: Hey, Mark. How are you doing? Are you feeling it yet?

Mark: Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm feeling... [Makes awkward spaced out gesture]

Sophie: Really? Shall I get you some water?

Mark: No, no, no, it's good, everything's gone sort of bubbly. It's like I'm trapped inside a giant Aero.

Olly: I know exactly what you mean.

Mark: And, and do you know what, I also think I might be getting the famous munchies.

Sophie: Really? On an E? I'll get you some water.

Olly: I tell you what, me and you, we've got a connection, haven't we? Can you feel it. We're on the same wavelength, yeah?

Mark: Oh, right, yeah!

Olly: Listen to the music, man! This guy's a genius! He's bringing it up. He's bringing it up. Ooh, he's taking it down. He's taking it down. He's taking it up!

Mark: Take-taking it up.

Olly: Taking it up!

Mark: Taking it up.

Olly: Taking it down.

Olly: Taking it down.

[In unison] Taking it down.

Mark: (This guy is literally a moron.)

Olly: You're on it, man. We're on it. We're brothers.

Mark: Yeah. [Olly hugs Mark] (Oh, God, the sweaty grip of the moron.)

''[At Mark and Jez's flat, Sophie is massaging Mark while her friends are listening to music and playing Jenga. Jeremy and Carla are talking in the corner]''

Olly: Oooooh, yeah. You can feel it. You can feel it, can't you?

Mark: Yep, yeah I can still feel it. (Oh, God, I'm so tired. How did my house become a rave? This is probably how a squat starts. They'll never leave, and eventually they'll brick me up in my room and ownership will pass to them because a high court judge will rule me to be officially not living life to the max.)

Mark: Soph, it's lovely, your incessant rubbing of my back, but it is starting to chafe.

[The woman playing Jenga spills her glass of red wine on to the carpet]

Mark: The wine! The wine's been -

Sophie: Mark, you OK? You're not having a bad one?

Mark: (Shit, too rational.) Oh, yeah yeah, I'm fine. I just - I love being down here on the carpet with the stain. Look at the pattern it's making as it soaks into my genuine, pure wool carpet.

Carla: Do you think I should go and get me stuff out from [inaudible]

Jeremy: (What? She wants to talk normally after what we just did? I mean, I like edgy sex, but where was the humanity?)

Carla: Hey! Check out the easy pickings. [Carla steals Olly's wallet from out of his jacket]

Jeremy: Yeah? Don't you think..

Carla: We could blow this together, yeah?

Jeremy: Do you think? I mean -

Carla: Don't worry about him, he's probably a banker on 300K.

Jeremy: Yeah I think he actually works in a juice bar.

Carla: Whatever.

Jeremy: So, about the case. Um just between us, the credit cards, that was you, was it?

Carla: No, Jez. That's the funny thing. I wasn't even around for those. I was in Lincoln raking in a bit on a housing benefit scam.

Jeremy: Brilliant. [Carla turns around, revealing large scar on her back] Ooh, nasty scar.

Carla: Yeah. Bit of a bitch fight one night in Sunderland. Still, you want to see the other girl, cos she can't see you ey, not now! [points to eye]

Jeremy: [Nervous laugh] Brilliant. (Oh, fuck. This is getting a bit too real. Just keep kissing. lf we're kissing, she can't say scary stuff.)

[Mark looks around with disapproval as Sophie's friends are still hanging around while Techno music is playing]

Mark: Look at these drop-o's. They think they're having fun. If we were agricultural workers, the day would already be half gone.

Mark: Are you all right, Soph?

Sophie: I don't know. The room's going a bit spinny, and a think I might, erm - I burped some sick. Can you get me out of here, Mark?

Mark: OK. ok. What you need is some peace and quiet, and some rest. And a cup of tea and some toast with peanut butter.

Sophie: Oh That sounds nice.

Olly: [Just finished rolling a joint] Hey Soph, where you going? We're going to have a spliff. Say hello to my little friend hehehe.

Mark: She's going to bed. She doesn't want any more of your drugs.

Mark: [Tucks Sophie into bed] You just have a nice lie-down there soph. I'll bring the tea and toast through in a minute, OK?

Carla: Listen, do you wanna...

Jeremy: Again? Already?

Carla: Yeah. I'm in the mood for celebrating. It'll only be a few hours, and I'm going to be free as a bird.

Jeremy: (Oh, no. She's going to go free and come and live here, and we'll have to do horrible sex and go carjacking together.)

Mark: [Marches into the living room] Right, OK that's it, turn the music down. You can stop smoking your drugs.I'm making tea and toast for Sophie. I'm putting on Radio 4. Everything's normal. I'm not really high on drugs, so you can stop talking your nonsense on my time.

Olly: Whoa What's the problem, man? Can't we just chill?

Mark: No, you can't. You've been chilling long enough. This is reality calling.

Olly: But what about you and me? The bond?

Mark: There is no bond. You're not a bad person, but I'm afraid to say you are a moron. Now pull your socks up and get your shoes on. come on All of you.

Olly: Oh, man!

Mark: Listen, while we're at it, there are systems in place for a reason in this world. Economic stability, interest rates, growth. It's not all a conspiracy to keep you in little boxes. Alright. It's only the miracle of consumer capitalism that means you're not lying in your own shit, dying at 43 with rotten teeth, and a little pill with a chicken on it is not going to change that. Now come on! Fuck off!

[At Jeremy's trial]

Jeremy: (Bollocks. She's going to go free, free to come round and cut me from ear to ear unless I do her evil doings with her.)

Foreman: So, maybe if we go over the arguments one last time, then see if one of us will change our minds.

Jeremy: Why bother? We're never going to agree. She's going to get off.

Foreman: Well, no, actually, because the judge has ruled he'll accept a majority verdict. So if just a couple of your lot will consider joining us, then we can convict.

Jeremy: (Shit. Could I do this? 'She is technically innocent. But, really, she's totally guilty. Plus, women's prison, it's probably like one long hen night.) Well, actually, I was thinking, I've had quite a big think about everything and, um, I think I've changed my mind.

Juror 1: Why? The security footage?

Jeremy: Partially, but basically, I accidentally got talking to her in a club. I know I shouldn't have, but it turns out she does this sort of thing all the time. She's a fraudster.

Foreman: No, we can't admit this. That's grounds for a mistrial.

Jeremy: OK, sure. If you want. Say it's a mistrial, go crying to Daddy. But look, maybe I didn't play by the rules this time. Maybe I am a bit of a maverick, but I think I've got this case pretty much solved. And, yes, I can apologize for how I've done that, but I could never apologize for telling the truth, and the truth is that this woman is evil! [Bangs table] And if we let her go today, we are going to be responsible for whatever she does, so help me God, and let the Lord be my witness!

Juror 2: OK, I buy it. Let's just say guilty.

Juror 1: Yeah, I'm with him.

Jeremy: (Oh, yeah, justice is done. Not actual justice, but what I wanted to happen, which is basically the same thing.)

[Mark and Sophie arrive at JLB the morning after the party]

Sophie: God, my head feels like a coconut someone scraped out from the inside.

Mark: Shit, yeah, I know how you feel like a big sort of coconut with a brain inside it. [Marks phone rings] Whoops. Sorry, I'd better Hello?

Johnson: Mark, this is Allen. I've just spoken to Collin Cooper. He's pissing blood. Apparently, Sophie's pulled another sickie. It's getting out of hand. Call her, talk to her, do what you need to do. She's right on the bloody precipice.

Mark: OK. (Come on, Mark, do it. You're Sugar, you're Trump, you're Rommel.)

Sophie: It's been really great seeing you. And thanks for coming to the club and everything. I know it's not really your thing so I just want you to know I appreciate it.

Mark: I... Thanks. Soph Before you go, there's something I need to say.

Sophie: Yeah?

Mark: It's just well You - You've really got to pull your socks up at work.

Sophie: What?

Mark: You've got to stop pulling sickies and screwing around, Sophie. Johnson says.

Sophie: Oh Mark, what the fuck?! My head's in pieces, I don't need this. [Starts walking back to her car]

Mark: No Sophie it's just, if you want to be a major player, you've got to apply yourself more and be more punctual. Hug? [Sophie drives away] (We'll laugh about this. Definitely. Unless it kills the relationship stone dead, which it probably will.)