1
Is she really
going out with him?
The Silver Jubilee
marks 25 years of Her Majesty's reign.
Oi, watch it!
I'll fucking kill you!
Don't come back here,
you fucking thieving little git!
- Fuck off!
- Fucking bastards!
- All right, John?
- All right, boys?
All right, go, go, go, go!
Keep fighting the machine, boys!
To the Queen!
- Hip, hip...
- Hooray!
- Hip, hip...
- Hooray!
Mum, can I have a word?
Can you sub me
next week's pocket money?
- You'll be home by 12:00?
- Yeah.
A revolution bankrolled
entirely by Mum's spare change.
God save the Queen!
The fascist regime!
Get off!
I fucked your mum!
I had some fun with her afterwards.
She's a very generous lover.
Whoa!
Oi, slow down, mate.
Slow down. Come on.
I can't believe you did that.
That was so funny.
Thank you very much.
When did they start charging
a bleeding pound
for a punk show in Croydon?
Shut it, Vic, all right?
We're getting in for free.
Up here.
Females await, boys.
Don't touch my hair.
Don't touch my hair.
Please kiss my heart and touch
my mind. Don't touch me there.
Don't touch my hair.
Don't touch my fucking hair.
Oi!
Fuck you, bitch! Bitch!
Whoa, punk really is the greatest thing
that ever happened
to ugly people, isn't it?
Fuck you, Jerry.
Wait till you see Slap.
Wait till you see my boy!
Oi, get the fuck out of here!
Come in the front door, you poofs!
Oh, boys, this place is teeming
with proper gash.
Do you not like that word, Enn?
Would you prefer "lady bits"
or "front bottom"?
Fuck off.
God, those braces are clinging
on for dear life, ain't they?
I think the one with pink hair
is Shirley from school.
Yeah, I know her.
She's Boadicea's right-hand bitch.
Go and talk to her then.
Get us into the after party.
Hey, who's the twat in the turtleneck?
Must be another label
sniffing around The Dyschords.
You know, Boadicea should be
reading our fanzine.
Yeah, he's right.
She could put us on the map.
- Get us an intro then.
- I don't want to.
Talk to Shirley.
You went to school with her.
- Sod off.
- Aww, are you a virgin?
- Fuck off!
- Go on!
The chick is leaving the nest.
I was in Despair,
and now I'm in another band
called Lipstick,
which was formed
from the remnants of Despair.
Hiya!
It's Shirley, right?
Uh, we went to school together.
The name's Spinning Jenny.
Nice. I'm Enn.
Uh, we did that show together?
Do you remember?
Baa Baa Black Sheep?
I was a bag of wool,
and so were you.
And we had that duet together.
Go on, give us
a tune then, "Shirley."
- Piss off.
- Um...
I do remember that song
we did though.
Let's sing it.
Oh, come on. You start.
Don't pay any attention to that.
Oi, oi, oi.
Bunch of boob-sniffing fucks!
Ever get the feeling your invitation
was lost in the mail?
Who could imagine you lot out here
- in a shithole like Croydon!
- Fuck off!
In the world of quantum mechanics,
punks are everywhere
at the same time.
Until, observe.
Let me welcome you to the leaders
of the Party go Punk revolution!
The incredible Dyschords!
Yes!
Fuck off! Fuck off!
Suck him off!
Stop!
- Fuck off!
- Piss off!
Virgin Records!
- Fuck you, yeah!
- Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Get off!
There's your seven-inch.
You stupid fucking pillock.
We had him. We had him!
And then you had to go
and fuck it up!
What are you, suicidal?
Ahh!
- You remind me of my mum.
- Good!
Bo, I'm the golden goose!
You haven't laid
the golden egg yet, have you?
- I've had it, Slap!
- So where's the after party?
Wadeson Street. And you!
You are barred!
I can't bear it if they sign
to a major, though. So wrong.
Well, The Clash signed to CBS.
They're dead to me. I've written
an editorial in the new issue.
- Did you put my Slits review in?
- Some of it.
- What did you take out?
- The epic fucking poetry.
Oi! Rimbaud was a symbolist.
You want to forget the artsy crap
next Tuesday, John, mate.
Where are you going to take her?
- Who?
- My impending date.
When did you get a date? Who with?
- Tracey.
- What? Tracey the Slag?
Tracey the Magnanimous.
"Now, boys,
you can touch one of them.
Left one's bigger..."
"...right one's nicer!"
So I was thinking, do I save up
and take her into town?
The Roxy maybe?
I mean, she's not a punk...
Nah, some mafia queer runs the place now.
Don't know if he'll let you
fuck her in the toilet.
That is genuinely sad
to take advantage.
Not as sad as being the guy at the party
who ends up in the kitchen,
talking to someone's mum.
"Oh, lovely
shade of blue, your balls."
Yeah, that'll be the shade
of your mum's lipstick, mate.
- Come on, boys!
- Tonight, all that changes
at the after party!
- Do you know where we're going?
- Yeah, Wadeson Street.
- Which is which way?
- Just down the road around the corner.
I trust you implicitly, Vic!
I absolutely know where we're going.
Ugh, again.
Why don't we go for a bit of a swing
in the kids' park instead?
- Fuck me!
- I'd hurt you, Enn.
How about this, right?
Why don't we finish our beers
and decide on the Virys run tomorrow?
Enn?
Enn?
What's that music?
- What music?
- Shh!
I've almost got it.
Now I hear it.
Never doubt me again.
That music is amazing. Is it German?
I feel like I've heard it before.
You never heard nothing
before me, mate.
Shut it. Let's get laid.
Hello.
We're friends of Boadicea.
She manages The Dyschords.
There is no discord here.
Right. What's your name, then?
Stella.
That's got to be the prettiest name
I have ever heard.
It's like a star, isn't it?
No. Stellas have been stars,
but not all stars are Stellas.
Well, you look like a star, Stella.
They must be from California.
Jackpot.
They fuck anything that moves
in California.
Yeah, and Croydon
is the sister city to Fresno.
It's going to be all right, mate.
Just corner the one that looks
the loneliest
and speak in short admiring sentences.
Excuse me.
Hmm.
Enn.
Enn, mate. Come here.
So cool.
Might have a bit of a dance to that.
I'm...
I'm gonna go find the kitchen.
Hello.
You look like you could use
some company.
I'm Enn.
Short for Henry.
I'm Wainswain. It's long for Wain.
I don't remember you.
Don't you find it sad that we never seem
to recognize each other on birthdays?
Weren't you a virus last time?
- Last time?
- I thought so.
I'm a Second.
A second what?
Second Colony.
Today...
I manifested imperfectly.
Again.
But that is no reflection
on Parent-Teacher Wain.
That is my own burden.
My mate John has got a third nipple...
and it never held him back in any way.
In our culture, he would class
as an abomination.
I'm...
Happy birthday, Waldo.
Happy birthday to you.
Fourth Colony manifests...
Individuality!
Let's be grateful
for our bodies.
After all, they're our last ones.
The iconic London sights,
Big Ben, Westminster Abbey,
and the private Pleasure Dome
of the Prime Ministers...
aren't going to happen.
This whole Queen's Jubilee celebration
sort of blindsided us Parent-Teachers
and the city is booked solid.
But we've managed to patch together
a brand-new itinerary
of equally nourishing experiences,
all within this deeply authentic
suburban community of...
Croydon.
Zan, what are you looking forward
to experiencing in Croydon?
I've sensed some tension
over our last few stops, Zan.
Do you have something
you want to interjaculate?
Don't hold back, Zan.
- Fourth Colony manifests...
- Individuality!
You constantly use words
like "enrichment" and "authenticity,"
but we're behaving more
like tourists than travelers.
I mean, perhaps we could emulate
the Stellas and really participate.
The Stellas have a different way
of enriching their community.
Well, all we ever seem to do
is observe and consume.
You are what you eat, Zan.
I know I am.
Zan...
Are you shocked?
No, um...
I get it. I'm into punk.
My name is Enn.
Zan.
Tell me more about yourself, Zan.
Why? We've probably met
a thousand times.
What's punk?
Like, The Ramones?
Or The Sex Pistols?
Or The New York Dolls.
Well, some people don't count the Dolls.
But it's like anarchy.
Now that is punk!
Do more punk to me.
Hmm...
Me and my mates were thinking
of starting a band, actually,
'cause none of us know
how to play anything, which is...
Oh, God, I'm-I'm sorry.
Um, you're bleeding.
How do I further access the punk?
Well, I could take you dancing
at the Roxy.
Rape is playing tomorrow.
Our schedule doesn't allow for Rape.
Does yours?
- Are you a Sixth?
- What do you mean?
You're a local?
Stella said it was all right.
And only the Stella knows you're here?
Hey, Stella. You're luminous,
you know that?
I wanna kiss you forever...
but you make me feel shy.
I don't wanna go too fast, but...
Are you prepared?
Yeah.
Then kneel.
What?
Remove your clothes.
Okay.
How long have you lot been here?
We arrived this morning.
It's the last stop on our tour.
What do your people do
on an ordinary day?
Relax.
Breathe.
Close your eyes.
Breathe, Victor. Breathe.
Respire from the orifice.
Saturday's
our fanzine distribution day.
Sunday, we pick tomatoes
over by the sewage pipes.
You see, tomato seeds, they don't break
down in the digestive system,
so they grow wild wherever
there's a leak in the pipes.
We pick them to sell them
for photocopying money.
Dancing, free trade, duplication,
having no restrictions?
Well, we do what we want.
Release!
Merge!
Let go!
Ascend!
Who the fuck are you?
Who the fuck is he?
Who the fuck are you?
Do you think I could smell it?
Yeah, pop it off like that.
That's a Level One violation.
Yes, it is, Celia.
Level Two.
She's approaching a Level Three!
Enn!
Enn, we've all got to get out of here!
What?
You! I see you!
Stay away from me!
I claim our Colony's right
to unique experience, Waldo!
This is unprecedented.
Oh! You mean it's unique?
Zan, this tone.
John! John! We've got to get out of here!
Shut the fuck up!
Hurry! Hurry!
Out! Out!
Out! Out!
Lads. Lads, lads.
Lads, lads. Lads.
Lads, that was the future.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Did you force her or something?
Fuck you!
What was that for?
Vic. Vic. Vic, where you going, mate?
- Vic.
- Enn!
Enn. Enn.
I claimed a unilateral dispensation.
What?
I can come with you.
To the punk.
Oh. Well, everything's closed.
Everything on the island?
The island?
Oh... Well, yeah.
Wh-when do you have to be back?
I have 48 hours.
Enn...
What is it?
I feel...
this body is dying.
It may yet live.
Are those my shoes?
How did you know?
Because they look exactly like my shoes.
No, you don't have to.
Did you build this place?
No. My dad built it for me.
I like your ring.
It's the symbol of my Colony.
Are these the symbols of your Colony?
- Uh...
- The Punk Colony?
I guess, some of them.
'Cause our mag's called Virys, uh...
so I... I came up
with this cartoon character, Virys Boy,
because he looks a bit punk.
See here, he goes around
and he meets all these arseholes...
and just spreads himself everywhere
and infects everyone
to fight fascism and conformity.
So the solution to conformity
is forced insemination and cloning?
Oh. Um...
That's... It was meant to be
a metaphor for freedom.
I just think, uh, once we're free, we'll...
we'll stop doing what we're told,
which is just consume.
If we don't stop,
we'll eat the fucking world.
There are contradictions in your metaphor.
Yeah.
But I am moved by it.
- Really?
- Mm.
Do you know that in every person's DNA
there's a remnant of every virus
that has ever infected a human being
since the birth of man?
I think adapting to survive viruses
is what eventually turned
bacteria into human beings.
I was a bacterium...
Who knows what we will become
in the future.
- ...but I never met a virus.
- I think viruses will save us.
Wow, your skin is so soft there.
Your hands are so cold.
Your ears are translucent.
Your penis is small and folded,
like the bud of a tiny pink flower.
Oh, it's losing its structure.
Hmm.
Mum, this is, uh, my friend.
She...
We, um... We actually...
Right. Explanation.
I am Zan.
Zan's American.
Oh! Oh! I nearly went to Hollywood once.
No, Mum. You actually didn't
nearly go to Hollywood once.
- I was a model.
- A foot model.
There was this audition
for a Diana Dors film.
That film was shot in Ealing.
I looked it up.
They needed to do a close-up
on Diana's foot,
and they called us models in,
because Diana had six toes
on the foot in question.
I kept my foot wrapped
in Vaseline for seven days.
And then when I took the bag off,
my skin was as soft as a baby's lips.
Mum, Vaseline promotes hair growth.
Marilyn Monroe grew a mustache
from using Vaseline.
And she did all right
for herself, didn't she?
If by "all right," you mean dead.
Do you ever see me shaving my feet?
- Thankfully not.
- Right.
Oh! I love this record!
It's not a record, it's a tape.
And white people trying to sing
like black people is racist.
I'm not a racialist.
Pancakes! Let's make pancakes.
Americans love pancakes, don't they?
Come on, love.
You show me how it's done.
You don't have to.
- Come on, Henry.
- No, Mum.
- Come on.
- No!
Come to Mama.
That is not okay.
Grind it.
Stop it.
- What?
- Looking at me.
Looked-at babies
make more successful adults.
That's proven.
She's adorable.
And everyone needs that special someone.
Everyone, Enn.
What's that supposed to mean?
- Henry, it's just a date.
- Malcolm?
Well, it's the Jubilee tea dance
on Sunday, and that's all it is.
Mum, he's repugnant.
He was a paratrooper in Indochina.
He peeled potatoes. I looked it up.
Your generation will eventually
be doing nothing but looking it up.
I'm a woman. With a clitoris.
Look that up.
Malcolm says that my best days
are not behind me.
They've just begun.
You're not England,
for Christ's sake, Mum.
Well, he's a right lot kinder to me
than your left-wing father ever was.
Well, he was kind to me!
He left you when you were nine.
Well, who'd blame him,
with your yammering.
You'll do the same
to someone else one day.
- I'm sure!
- I would never do that!
Oh! Sorry, love, the door wasn't locked.
It's okay. It's my first time at this.
It's taking longer than I expected.
Hmm.
Ma'am?
Zan.
Waldo.
I agree in principle that there is
no progress without deviation.
But you have to remember
that you are not just you.
And we are not just us without you.
I'm nourishing my body with raw data
to enrich the Eating.
Isn't that the purpose
of this endless tour?
I'm doing it for you.
Oh, this is not about me.
I ate pancakes,
which I am currently excreting.
And I danced.
I danced with the Parent-Teacher
you are riding.
Those are unique experiences, Waldo.
You've exceeded
your experience quota, young lady.
Ooh. I lost my place.
Oh, yeah.
You just finish up this one, love.
I can see you, Keyhole Kevin.
Oh, she's a lovely girl.
Let's go!
I like this body.
Is it a good one?
I like yours.
It smells like butter.
Tastes like salt.
What do I smell like?
I like your Parent-Teacher.
Who, Mum? She never taught me
a bloody thing.
What about the other one?
The one who made your tree-temple?
Oh, my dad?
Well, he was a jazz musician, actually.
But he never really recorded anything,
'cause he said that would be selling out.
Is that punk?
Dad was definitely a punk.
He was someone who never settled
for the way that things were.
Is that why he left you?
If I was your Parent-Teacher,
I would never leave you.
- Waldo?
- Yes, Wain?
Has it not occurred to you,
if you allow her this degree of freedom,
she may do more than rebel?
Stop.
- That's my fault too?
- Who else's?
Well, Stella did approve
interaction with the local.
Limited interaction
is my Colony's prerogative.
It's not my fault you can't regulate
your own progeny.
You have less than 24 hours until Exit
to rectify the situation.
And then we eat.
I'm aware of the schedule.
Then why not eliminate the problem?
- I could do with an appetizer.
- Oh, come on.
Stella, eating before Exit
in this manifestation will be very messy.
I recommend sequestration.
She'll soon come running back.
- I really don't...
- That's a fair compromise.
All those in favor?
PT First?
Abstention. Waldo, you're outvoted.
The offspring is shunned.
Shunned.
- Shunned?
- Shunned.
Shunned.
It was like choral vocals
over a driving backbeat.
- Do you know what I mean?
- Eh?
It was metronomic, yet tribal.
There's 12 there.
Like... Did Eno ever produce
any dub-reggae?
- Try krautrock.
- That's where I am!
Oh, speak of the devil.
That music that was playing
at your party, is that available on LP?
Oi. What you bringing her here for?
What's your problem?
Where're your other Americans?
I have no idea.
What, so you've been with him
the whole time?
I slept at his house and met his mum.
And we engaged in incomplete
sexual activity.
Now I'm looking forward to experiencing
just an ordinary Saturday
with your Colony.
Well, you butchered my Slits review,
but otherwise, it looks great.
Thank you, mate.
Right, I need you to push
this issue this time.
Like, I reckon we can sell the whole run.
So, uh, what do they think
of the Queen's Jubilee in America?
In America?
Um, they're in favor of it.
Really?
The sovereign embodies
their collective consciousness.
They haven't had a sovereign
for, what? 200 years.
Um... Their superior longevity
keeps the memories fresh.
Are you saying Americans
live longer than us?
Absolutely.
Well, why would that be the case?
Because of the largely isolated
and vegetarian lives they lead.
McDonald's is from America.
McDonald's. Yes.
Right. So they're not, like,
all vegetarians, right?
No. Not all.
Only the alpha elite.
Oh? Like the President?
Jimmy Carter's a vegetarian?
I did not know that.
I've already said too much.
Surveillance, repercussions...
What, like the FBI?
Mmm. The FBI, yes.
They would be vulnerable.
I don't wish to be interrogated
on this matter any further.
So I'm just going to walk away,
and, when I come back,
we won't speak of this again.
What's with the third degree?
She's not normal. None of them are.
Ready to come home yet?
You're riding a child, Waldo?
You gave me a dispensation.
Zan, your peers are acting out.
The PTs are angry. This can't continue.
You're just jealous.
Has it not yet occurred to you,
young Henry,
that these people could be operating
as some kind of a high-level cult?
- Exactly.
- The code of silence.
Vegetarianism. Arcane symbolism.
Shouldn't you be touring
a potato field or something?
Zan, you're being childish.
I've been forbidden to even talk to you.
I bet they participate
in some bizarre sex rituals.
No.
- How do you know that?
- I just...
I don't see it happening.
- Well, it's a global phenomenon.
- What is?
Cults, brainwashing, suicide pacts.
Do you want me
to Exit without you?
Because I can do it like that.
I don't care what you do!
I only have 22 hours left.
I now wish to see the punk.
All right.
Fucking hell.
What are they saying?
What? That's where we're going.
What?
That's it.
Give me more, give me more.
Boadicea, meet Enn.
He's got something
very important to tell you.
Hiya.
I hope we're not interrupting your work.
Uh, I thought you might want
to see our fanzine.
- I've seen you at the gigs, haven't I?
- Yeah.
Jumping around, falling over.
Looking like a fucking idiot.
Oh!
What you laughing at?
You're Flash Harry, right?
Shiny on the outside,
gaping hole within.
And this one, you're a social liability.
Not funny.
Why'd you do that?
Are you the Parent-Teacher here?
That's me. Come here.
Would you like
to take a look around?
Piss off! Come on.
You need to control your girl, Enn.
It sounded sort of Krautrock-y.
So like Faust?
- Similar, but more intense.
- Like Neu?
No, no, no. It was like...
It had choral undertones,
like a million whales being strangled.
- Pere Ubu?
- Maybe.
All right, then. All right.
Wait two minutes,
and I swear I'm gonna find
something for you.
- All right, bless, brother.
- Bless.
Maybe cults don't record
their own music.
Although Charlie Manson had
a couple of boss tunes.
I think she's trying to leave the cult.
Exit. People exit cults.
Or they're extracted by a deprogrammer.
What, like kidnapping?
Extraction.
Bo-diss...
No.
Bo-di-cee-a. Boadicea.
- Boadicea.
- That's it.
Haven't you heard of her?
She was the Celtic queen
who ran the Romans out of London.
The first punk.
The first punk was a she.
What is punk, Boadicea?
It's just the fag end of the blues, dear.
You know, a year ago,
I had Johnny Rotten kipping right there.
Next time I saw him, he didn't even
know me, the fucking Frampton.
Siouxsie Sioux, Dee Dee Ramone,
Ari Up from The Slits.
I knew all of them in the day,
which was only
a few months ago, really.
Sellouts now, of course.
I worked with Vivienne Westwood
till she fired me for improving
on one of her gowns.
Green is not a good color
on her, let me tell you.
Yeah, they pose as mentors,
but they suck your blood
because they know that
their days are numbered.
Hmm.
Your skin is like milk.
Anyway, the fucking point
is to smash the oppressor,
tell the truth, be an original,
blah, blah, blah...
I'm boring myself now.
"Every breath is an original."
That's a motto from my group.
What? Are you a singer then?
I've been many things.
I've even been a star.
Really?
I once harmonized with a brown dwarf.
A Brown Dwarf?
Didn't they open for The Shits?
Fuck off!
Quiet.
Quiet down, you cruds. Shut it!
Tonight, I am delighted to announce
that The Dyschords will be
welcoming a guest singer.
Who will be also modeling...
- Where's Slap?
- Shut your gaping gob!
He's on probation!
So, tonight, I introduce to you
the erstwhile frontwoman
for legendary American cult collective
A Brown Dwarf.
Let's make some noise for...
Zandra!
- I don't know any songs.
- You just make it up.
Just sing about something that you know.
Enough of this hippie shit.
Get up there.
All right. Zandra!
This is, um, this is
the history of my people.
The Mayflower!
Shut the fuck up.
You need to shout it a bit more.
Oi, that's my mic,
you Yankee bitch!
Shut the fuck up, Slap!
She's only a bloody tourist.
I am not a tourist!
Come on, you pricks!
I love it! I love it!
Yes!
Move back! Move back!
Everyone, move back.
Go back there.
This is a moment!
I made this happen!
Get Vivienne on the phone!
Get her on the phone now!
- Did you see what I saw?
- Yes!
Somebody must've dosed us.
How did we know what to sing?
Something mad about an Eating Time.
But that's real.
That's the end of our journey.
- How did you know about that?
- I don't know.
What do you mean
by "the end of our journey"?
Tomorrow we Exit, which is
followed by the Eating.
What is the Eating?
The Parent-Teachers
eat their children.
I don't know, it's supposed to feel good.
It's how we sustain the species.
What?
Stay here!
Don't move!
John!
I think they're planning a mass suicide.
Amazing. The time is now, comrade.
Do what must be done.
John, I found some krautrock.
- Do you hear that?
- This is what I was talking to you about!
That was amazing, Zan.
Where did you learn that song?
Something happened to you
on that stage,
something that has
never happened before.
Does Waldo know you're here?
You've been shunned.
What does that mean?
Zan, what you sang about the Eating,
you made it sound frightening.
Wainswain!
Multiple violations!
Unauthorized manual permeation?
Bad Stellas.
Oh, the things I'm going
to do to you for this.
You're in extreme danger
of being left behind.
We have to leave now.
I feel alive.
I feel opened.
Zan.
- Get away from her!
- Leave him alone!
Everyone just leave everyone alone!
Ugh!
Enn?
Enn.
Enn!
Congratulations are in order, my dear.
You are with child.
Fuck!
She's a menace.
I move for the immediate eradication
of the deviant child.
- No!
- I call a vote.
We don't have a quorum to vote.
Where is Stella?
- Welcome, Stella.
- Thank you, Stella.
You know, Daddy
doesn't get out very much.
Only for special occasions.
Stella, you know
there are consequences
when you interact with locals
without permission
and it can't wait until after Exit.
Will it feel like
the supernova manifestation?
Stella, will you do the honors?
Certainly, Stella.
Isn't that the most beautiful
thing you've ever seen?
Come.
Come, my pretty.
In you go.
No...
No, I...
I don't wanna go.
No! No!
Enn!
The Kronos Syndrome.
Who?
Cannibal incest, comrades.
This is a higher level of cult.
We need to get
the authorities involved.
No. It'll be a bloodbath.
Fine by me.
Kill em all. Let Satan sort 'em out.
Look, I don't know happened
to you in there, Vic,
but if they took your balls
too, you can leave now.
I've got my balls.
How did you find out all this info again?
I saw it through their fucking window!
Now, are you lot with me?
Yeah, course we are, Enn.
Yeah, mate.
Right.
We'll need backup.
It's not a joke.
She's part of an American
cannibalistic cult.
They eat their young.
Enn, all species eat their young.
Boadicea, I need your help.
- Fuck off.
- I can't do this...
Come here. Come here.
Your skin...
Yes, your skin is like cheese.
Like a fine Stilton.
- What, do I repel you?
- No, but...
When I was your age, I was pretty.
- Zan needs your help, and I...
- Let me tell you something.
I have had 12 abortions
and nothing to show for it.
How did I end up in this fucking Croydon
at the fag-end of my fertility!
But you're the closest thing
to a mum that Zan's ever had.
You chose her.
She was chosen.
It's hard to be a parent.
You must relinquish all other attachments.
You will raise them, teach them...
and then you will let them go.
I wish to stay.
I'm not sure they could be born here.
We are made of different stuff.
Zan, listen carefully.
Our people are dying.
We give birth to fewer
and fewer each cycle.
But your children are a sign that there's
a different way for our people.
- What way?
- I have a plan.
We must play along
until I can implement it.
Yes?
- Asbestos check.
- The hidden killer in your home.
This is not our home.
Mandatory check.
Government regulations.
Won't take a minute.
Shh.
- Do you have identification?
- Certainly.
We're in!
Perimeter breach!
Onward!
- Let's split up.
- Oh, I don't know...
No. We'll find her faster that way.
- Shout if you see her.
- Fuck.
- What the fuck?
- Keep looking.
Oh, shit.
- Any luck?
- Nothing.
- No. Can't find her.
- Bollocks.
Oh, shit!
Zan!
- You must stay quiet.
- Zan!
If they find us, they'll kill us all.
Enn would never let that happen.
Good thing you can just swallow us up.
You sprang from our loins.
We are England!
Oi, them's the ones
what stole my arse-cherry!
I was saving that.
Oh, really?
Victor.
We've been waiting for you.
Gotcha.
What, you-you, uh, you can't be ridden?
I gave that up ages ago, dear.
Herpes and sprogs.
- Sprogs?
- Kids.
Sex is over. Haven't you heard?
Tear it all down.
Evolve or die, love.
Evolve or die.
It's been a long day.
Drink?
I could do something with you...
you might have a future.
Tea break!
Fucking fancy, comrades.
The outcome
of this assault is in doubt.
Zan must be dealt with, without delay.
Come, my dear.
You will harm no child of mine.
You're not permitted to touch me.
I created you.
Well, you curated us, really.
And now I will save us all.
Fourth Colony manifests...
Individuality!
Zan!
We feast...
We feast a lot on-on children.
And I'd say, you know, it fills me up.
It fills me up, good and proper,
but then I get lonely after that.
What's going on?
I feel deeply, deep hole,
deep hole inside...
What's going on?
- What is going on?
- Where the hell is Zan?
I don't know. Uh, try through there.
Try through there.
Whoa!
Zan!
Enn!
I call a General Synod.
I have that right, once an eon.
Prepare for Wide-Radius
Counterruption.
Ugh.
Waldo, you dare call a Synod?
Oh, Wain, why do you
always have to shout?
PT, you are compromised.
Ooh. Level One Violation!
PT First, the humans
are neutralized. I recomm...
I told you he was different.
I'm an artist.
Brothers and sisters, I move to amend
the Celestial Charter.
I propose the elimination of the Eating.
Don't be ridiculous!
The Eating is what keeps us alive.
What about the children?
Their experiences
will go to waste.
They will live out their natural cycles,
nourished by their own experiences.
What, and they all get to breed?
Where does it end? Factionalism?
War? Environmental collapse?
The answer is yes.
Each of your peoples met apocalypse.
Have you forgotten?
Each of you were convinced
you were the only species in the universe.
Maddened by the arrogance of solitude,
you gorged on your worlds' resources.
You grew fat as your planets shriveled.
You eat when you're lonely.
And now, our numbers dwindle,
for holy attrition was always
at the secret heart of my design.
We shall diminish.
And we shall do it with grace
and compassion.
The parents will consume the children,
and then I will consume the parents,
until at last...
I, alone, will turn upon myself and eat.
No more knowledge
in the meat to distract us.
Only the freedom of silence.
And the universe
breathes a sigh of perfect relief.
Bollocks!
I don't know what the bloody hell
you're on about
with your Swedish suicide complex,
but you can't just come
down here and insult us.
- Silence!
- Now we may
have cocked this planet up royally,
but at least we're fucking alive.
We like to eat, we like to shit,
we like to dance.
We like to fall in love.
And we try and fix
what our parents fucked up.
But you!
What kind of parents are you?
I mean, even the most pathetic
poser of a punk,
who'll end his days wanking
on the wall of his padded tree house,
at least he had a dad who'd rather
leave him in a ditch
than stick around and eat him alive!
Enough of this.
Let us proceed to the gratuitous vote.
All those in favor
of retaining the Eating?
Bob?
I vote to abolish.
- Predictable.
- Fuck you, Wain.
Fuck you for millennia.
- Stella?
- What?
Do you vote to retain the sacred ritual?
Yeah, what the hell.
The little shits taste staler every cycle.
I vote to abolish.
Evolve or die.
That is nonetheless a deadlock.
- No change is possible.
- There is one more vote.
Zan is a mother
with children growing within.
That qualifies her as a Parent-Teacher.
She is entitled to full voting powers.
Uh-uh. Contamination
is not conception.
PT First, I beg you to adjudicate.
You're pregnant?
- PT First.
- But...
They're ours.
Waldo's logic is sound.
Zan's would be the deciding vote.
But to cast her vote, she must give birth.
To give birth, she must Exit.
Her brood cannot be born
in this manifestation.
Zan, your decision is between
this world and our own.
But if you Exit, you cannot return.
You must choose.
Stop her!
Stop him!
Get off me!
- PT First...
- Shut up, Wain.
Zan will either become
a Parent-Teacher or she will not.
Release him.
We Exit in three hours.
Make your preparations.
John!
John!
John, mate! John! John!
Zan!
It's a good world.
I thought it would be bigger...
and cleaner...
and more colorful somehow.
But...
still...
It's a jewel.
Then stay.
I could be their father.
I could.
I don't think
that they could be born here.
My brothers and sisters will die,
and I can stop it.
Maybe I can stop it forever.
Spirit, mind,
voice, will, sex, strength.
- Six colonies...
- Seven.
Is that my ring?
It's the heart.
The interchange.
The way in and the way out...
to what is beyond.
Love.
I can hear them.
Our children are singing.
Don't go.
No!
What are you doing?
No, no, no...
Shh...
I love you.
No!
No!
No, no, no!
So, Enn.
What do you think happened to your lady?
She must've gone on with the others.
They didn't even say goodbye.
She'll be all right, mate.
She's a tough one.
Well, look, let us not forget the day.
- What?
- Tonight,
I take Tracey the Magnanimous
to the pictures.
So I'm turning to you now,
as you're both men of fashion
and adventure.
Lay it on me.
You got to forget everything
you think you know.
Just... accept that you are nothing
but a worthless initiate at her altar.
That's how you build trust.
Right.
No great secret.
Just remember that you're you,
and she's her.
And together...
that'll be another thing.
Fat lot of good yous pair were.
It's all right, mate.
All right then.
Ride on, you rotter.
- Hiya.
- Hi.
- How's it going?
- Very well, thank you.
Thanks so much for coming out.
- I adore your work.
- Thank you very much.
- What's your name?
- Emily.
- Where have you come from?
- Um, East Sussex.
Thanks for making that journey.
Lovely to meet you.
- Thank you, Tom, keep writing.
- Thank you.
Cheers. See you later.
See you guys.
Hello, how are you?
Very well, thank you.
- What's your name?
- It's for all of us.
We can only afford
the one copy.
We've just moved here.
Okay, well, I can make it out
to all of you. What are your names?
Siouxsie. With an "X."
Dee Dee.
Ari Up.
Jonesy.
Enn.
She thought we should travel alone.
We think we'd like to stay.
We want to start a band.
Shut the fuck up!
That was terrible.
Do it again!