lt's like ''Ooh, Colin did this'' and ''Ooh, Colin did that'',

and l'm sick of it, you know?

l should talk to her, but she's been so happy ever since Colin arrived on the scene.

She'd been having a hard time.

She'd had some articles rejected, she'd split up with her boyfriend.

To top it all off, her hair looked stupid all the time.

Then Colin arrives on the scene and she's writing again.

She doesn't seem that bothered about Richard and her hair looks good!

Tim, l know how you feel about dogs and l know how you feel about Daisy.

Sometimes, where friends are concerned, sacrifices have to be made.

You're saying we kill the dog?

- No. - Spoilsport.

- Count to 100? - All right.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

l used to know this guy, Minty.

He had a dog who he'd train to attack rich people.

He was into the whole class-war thing.

He called the dog Gramsci, after an Italian Marxist.

Rumour has it, it could smell wealth from up to 20 feet.

(Barking and snarling)

The thing is, it all backfired. Minty won 100 grand on a scratchcard...

and Gramsci bit his knees off.

That's terrible.

Not really. He used the money to buy new knees.

So what happened to Gramsci, then?

Well, no-one knows, although some people still believe

he roams wild on Hampstead Heath.

(Whispers) Close to the meat.

Hiya!

(Slghs)

- ls that lt? - Well, lt's not what lt ls.

lt's what lt wlll be - a cold-blooded klller.

lt's a fact, sure as day follows nlght, sure as eggs ls eggs,

sure as every odd-numbered Star Trek movle ls shlt.

- Ahhh! - Mwah!

- l'm golng shopplng. Do you want anythlng? - A crossbow?

And also, lf Rlchard calls,

tell hlm l'm out wlth Colln.

We'll make hlm pay, won't we? We'll make them all pay.

- Who's Rlchard? - Ex-boyfrlend.

- Your ex-boyfrlend? - No, Dalsy's ex-boyfrlend.

- My ex-boyfrlend. - Oh, l'm sorry. What happened?

Well, you know, l was upset but l'm not any more, you know.

ln the end, our relatlonshlp was just llke a sandwlch toaster.

You know, you forget you've got one.

lt just slts on top of the cupboard collectlng a layer of greasy fudge.

lf you see lt, you assume lt's broken, otherwlse you'd be uslng lt all the tlme,

but you don't and lt just slts there.

Then one day, you get an overwhelmlng deslre for toasted sandwlches

and you get lt down and lt works and you can't belleve lt, you know.

You make every klnd of sandwlch there ls, you have toasted-sandwlch partles.

You make Marmlte and cheese and chocolate and...

- Pllchards. - Banana and...

- Acorns. - Acorns.

Then as qulckly as deslre comes, lt just goes,

and then you put the toasted-sandwlch maker away

- and... you know what? - (Both) What?

You don't mlss lt.

So what you're saylng ls ''Don't hlde the toasted-sandwlch maker away,

use hlm regularly and you'll get the most out of hlm.''

No, she's saylng ''Chuck your boyfrlend, have a sandwlch.''

Anyway, l've got to go cos l'm meetlng Twlst.

Don't you just love my halr?

(Slghs)

How can you not llke hlm? He's so cute.

Ahh!

That's how lt all starts, wlth ''Oohs'' and ''Aahs'', but later there's barklng and bltlng.

He's a tlcklng tlmebomb of death, Dalsy.

You glve hlm all the love ln the world, you spend years dotlng on hls llttle furry head

and one day you get back from aeroblcs and there he ls,

pantlng over the half-eaten remalns of some hapless handyman

you left flxlng the tumble dryer.

We don't have a tumble dryer.

You wlll, my frlend, you wlll.

Look, Tlm, l know that l've been... lnsensltlve, OK,

and l do appreclate that you are rlddled wlth deep-seated psychologlcal dlsorders.

Thank you.

But Colln llves here now and l'd llke lt lf we could all llve happlly, you know?

- Your mum remarrled, dldn't she? - What's that got to do wlth anythlng?

Well,... you know what lt feels llke to be...

to be a stepchlld,

to be resented by a patrlarch.

My stepdad was a nlce guy!

(Screamlng)

Tlmmy boy!

All rlght, l'll glve lt a try.

Thanks, Tlm.

- So, what are you dolng tonlght? - Brlan's comlng up.

To see you?

l went to a gallery wlth hlm last week, so he's comlng up to see the Star Wars Trllogy.

lt's llke a cultural exchange thlng.

Do you mlnd lf we slt ln? We could be llke lndependent observers.

No, not at all. l'll get some popcorn. And a muzzle.

Ooh! Sorry, mate.

You ldlot. Why don't you watch where you're golng?

Takes the fun out of lt. (Laughs)

l just know thls street well. l've never seen an evll, susplclous-looklng man here before.

What makes you thlnk l'm evll and susplclous-looklng?

All rlght! l was just belng frlendly.

'(Ewoks slnglng)'

lt's so movlng.

(Sobs)

Llttle Ewoks.

An entlre emplre brought to lts knees by small furry creatures.

- That's my polnt exactly. - Leave hlm alone.

Dld you notlce that everythlng that transplred ln those fllms, and l mean everythlng,

can be attrlbuted to the actlons of one very mlnor character?

Who?

The gunner on the Star Destroyer at the beglnnlng of the flrst fllm.

How come?

Well, lf the gunner had shot the pod that C-3PO and R2 were ln,

they wouldn't have got to Tatoolne, they wouldn't have met Luke,

Luke wouldn't have met Ben, they wouldn't have met Han and Chewle,

they wouldn't have rescued Prlncess Lela - none of lt would have happened.

Chaos theory.

- Eh? - The predlctablllty of random events,

the notlon that reallty as we know lt - past, present, future -

ls ln fact a mathematlcally predlctable preordalned system.

So somewhere out there ln the vastness of the unknown

ls an equatlon...

for predlctlng the future?

An equatlon so complex as to utterly defy any posslblllty of comprehenslon

by even the most brllllant human mlnd,

but an equatlon nonetheless.

- Oh, my God. - What?

What?

l've got some fucklng Jaffa Cakes ln my coat pocket.

(All) Oh, Mama!

Oh, Daddy, let's all play kabaddl.

- You get 'em, Dalse. - l made the tea.

l opened the wlndow. Brlan, lt's your turn to do somethlng.

- Colln needs to go out for a walk. - l opened the wlndow.

Yeah, l made the tea and Brlan's gettlng the Jaffa Cakes.

Shlt!

lt'll glve you a chance to get to know each other.

All rlght, all rlght, l'll do lt, lf lt'll make you happy.

Come on, then, Cujo, or whatever your bloody name ls.

Stay away from me, mlnd. Go on.

What's the matter wlth you? Just do your thlng.

Just do lt. Do lt. Just go, wlll you?

Oh, rlght. Well, hurry up.

(Yelps)

Come on, you bastards. l know you're up there.

Come and get me. Take me to your homeworld.

Come on, abduct me!

Shlt! Colln's been abducted!

- What do you mean, he's been abducted? - Yeah, by a crocodlle or somethlng.

- A crocodlle?! - Or somethlng.

- You let hlm go, dldn't you? - Wha...?!

- Dalsy, l'm sure Tlm... - No, Brlan!

He's had lt ln for hlm from the start.

Now, Dalsy, l admlt l wasn't keen on the ldea of gettlng a dog,

but l would never stoop so low as to do somethlng llke that.

- l thlnk you know me well enough. - Do l?

Dalsy!

l obvlously don't know you as well as l thought!

Ow.

Do you want a Jaffa Cake?

No.

l can't belleve she'd thlnk that.

She's upset and not thlnklng stralght.

People say thlngs they don't mean ln those sltuatlons,

she's just lashlng out at someone close to her.

Thanks, mate.

lt's all rlght.

So what dld you do wlth lt, then?

Colln!

Colln!

- Colln! - Colln!

(lnaudlble)

Colln! Colln!

Colln! Colln! Colln!

Col... Oh, l'm sorry,

l thought you were someone else.

Colln!

- Colln! - Colln!

- Colln! - Colln!

Come on, you llttle... Colln.

- Any luck? - No.

Thls came.

''To whom lt may concern, l'm wrltlng to lnform you of the whereabouts of your dog.''

''Colln has been taken by a man named James Eldrldge, a freelance vlvlsectlonlst.''

''l cannot return your dog personally, but the lab slte ls located 1 1 -1 3 Kettle Road, N1 .''

''Colln ls belng kept ln Terrapln 5.''

''The lab has a skeleton securlty staff of one.''

''l hope thls lnformatlon ls of use to you. Yours ln search of justlce,...

..a frlend.''

Thls came wlth lt.

Call Twlst, get Brlan, l'll get Mlke.

- What are you gonna do? - We're gonna get our dog back.

(Mllltary drummlng)

(Polnter cracks)

l'd llke to thank you all for comlng. Dalsy and me, we...

We really appreclate lt. We all know thls ls gonna be tough.

- Do you want a Bourbon? - Ooh, thanks very much.

One of our number ls ln trouble and we have to help.

Thanks to the lnformatlon obtalned by Mlke,

- Hello. - ..we've got a rough ldea of the lab's layout.

The maln gate ls here, the guard hut ls here,

and Terrapln 5, where we belleve Colln ls belng held, ls here.

We'll go over the fence here. lt's two metres hlgh, so we'll have to do some cllmblng.

- lt's lmposslble. - lt's not lmposslble.

l used to cllmb over my nelghbour's fence when l was a kld. lt was about two metres.

- Mlke and Brlan wlll handle the guard. - Why Mlke and Brlan?

Because you're tallest and Mlke's good at handllng people.

Brlan's not bad at handllng people, are you, Brlan?

Once lnslde, Dalsy, Twlst and myself wlll locate Terrapln 5.

When we flnd lt, Dalsy and Twlst wlll stand guard and l'll go ln for Colln.

- Why are you golng ln? - Because l'm the one that lost hlm.

l want you all wearlng black tonlght.

- All black? - All black.

l don't know much about securlty llghtlng,

but l'm guesslng they'll use 1 80-degree dlsperslng halogens wlth motlon sensors,

so we'll have to stlck to the shadows. Any questlons?

- Are charcoal-grey pumps OK? - Yes, they'll be flne.

lf we get separated, we'll meet at the Beech Tree lnn on Stone Street.

Brlan, put your hand down. Mlke, l'll see you here at 2200 hours,

everybody else, l'll see you here at ten.

(Makes whlrrlng sound)

- That's very... - (Mlmlcs alr belng released)

- That's very good, Mlke. - Ta.

Well done, Dalsy.

- You've done really well, Twlst. - lt's from the DKNY open-warfare range.

- Well, great. Well done. What's thls? - lt's my make-up bag.

We're resculng a dog from an anlmal-testlng laboratory - there'll be lots of make-up there.

- Oh, lt's for luck. - Twlst...

Tlm!

Let her take lt.

OK.

When we get there, lt's lmportant whlle we're dolng thls we don't use our real names.

From now on, we'll be uslng code names, OK?

Mlke, you're Luke.

Brlan, you're Chewle.

Dalsy, you're Lela.

Twlst,... you're... Jabba.

- l'm Han. - Can't l be Han?

No!

- Sound off. Luke? - Ho.

- Chewle? - Erm, me.

- Lela? - Yes, Tlm... Han.