[classical piano music]
[classical piano music intensifies]
[heavy metal guitar riff]
[static]
[jaunty TV theme tune]
[jaunty TV theme tune ends]
[1st AD] How to make it in rock ‘n’ roll.
Take one.
[Richard] Oh, sorry.
I drifted off there a bit.
What were we talking about?
[Cecilia] Your advice for aspiring musicians.
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.
The way I see it is, there are six rules
for making it in rock ‘n’ roll.
First!
Get your band together.
Choosing the right bandmates is so important.
I mean people diss Ringo's drumming,
but where were The Stones before he joined them?
And don't think I need four guys to make a band.
Three guitarists, one drummer.
No, no.
Think outside the box.
Get some women in there. Hmm.
A keyboardist, a harmonica player,
an organist, a cellist, a theremin player.
Do any of you guys know what a hydraulophone is?
[Cecilia] Umm, no.
Oh, hold on.
[chuckles]
I think it's a car part, actually.
[“Sucks Itself” by Stack of Corpses plays on radio]
[snoring]
♪ I’m just looking to buy some blow ♪
♪ Not the kind for my nose ♪
♪ Willing to pay for someone to help ♪
♪ Because it don’t suck itself ♪ [Bass] Whose fucking phones is that?
♪ I’m just looking to get some head ♪ [Drums] It's yours.
♪ It’s a reason to get out of bed ♪ [Bass groans]
♪ Pilates books on my shelf ♪
♪ Because it don’t suck itself ♪ - Yo?
[Larry on phone] You have exactly 10 seconds to explain why you're not here
standing in front of me right now at the studio.
Go.
[sighs]
Well we wrote a new song last night.
So we celebrated.
[Larry] Oh. How wonderful.
[Larry] I don't fucking care. - Uh huh.
[Larry] The auditions start in 15 minutes.
Not today are they?
[Larry] Yes. They're today.
You stupid piece of shit.
Fucking hell!
♪ When it don’t suck itself ♪♪
[“Sucks Itself” by Stack of Corpses ends]
[Chrissy] Whoa, whoa.
Take a step back, yeah.
[Alice] I’m sorry, it's just I suddenly feel--
[retching]
All right outside. Take it outside.
[rock music plays faintly in background]
[Keys] Hi. I'm here for the--
[Alice vomiting]
I'm here for the--
[vomiting continues]
Audition.
Cool.
Am I the only one here?
I'm the band manager's P.A. okay.
Not the fire marshal.
I err.. I think the others are in the bathroom.
All right, so write your name on this
and take a seat.
Please.
[door opens]
[Larry] Why are you still at home?
The label aren't here yet, are they?
Do you see me kissing anyone's arse?
I do not have time for your shit today, Chrissy.
Yes, you still got time.
Oh great, yes, some of the talent is here.
Yes. She's hot.
-She could work. -[coughs] Creep
Jealousy don't suit you, babe.
Learn to play something other than the pink oboe
and maybe we can talk.
Ouch!
I didn't even want a keyboardist
and now we're auditioning for an oberer--
fucking oberian--
an oboe player!
You know what I'm saying, man.
Well, enough of the foreplay.
-Where the fuck are you? -We're on our way.
Just having a little trouble rousing Sleeping Beauty over here.
Okay. I don't care how you wake him up.
-Just be here in ten minutes. -Yeah, yeah, all right.
I am not joking, dude
the label are going to be here any second now,
and we are already walking on eggshells.
-I said all right. -We have not had a hit in 12 months
and God knows when they’re going to pull the plug!
Mm hmm. Okay.
We'll get there as soon as we can.
Hey this girl, she could be our lifeline.
And God knows we need the fucking publicity.
Well, you're the manager right?
[electronic music starts]
So fucking the manage them.
[sniffs]
[groans]
Rise and shine, dickheads.
Fucking prick.
[sharp exhale]
Okay, when the label get here just keep them busy until the band show up.
Hey.
-[Annie] Hi. -Oh, um hi.
I'm Annie.
I'm K--
So what do you play?
Err...
Oh, you play keyboard?
Yeah, I play.
No way. Me too.
What are the chances?
-[Eileen] And me. -Holy shit.
Sorry.
Where did you come from?
I've been here this whole time.
What happened to your hand?
Oh.
Umm.
Well, I just--
I got it trapped in a door.
Ouch.
How clumsy!
[Keys] Can you still play?
I don't know. Maybe.
How hard can it be?
The drummer from Def Leppard's only got one arm.
Do you want some coffee to help with the nerves?
Er, no. Thank you.
So how long have you been playing for?
I've only been playing for, like, a couple of years,
but I'm already pretty good.
I actually can't really remember not playing
but I've played the piano a lot more than I've played the keys though.
Wow, shit.
Sounds like you've really got it in the bag then.
I don't mind though. You seem really nice.
Thanks.
Don't get too cocky though.
I have an ace up my sleeve.
-Yeah? -Yeah.
-Two actually. -Okay.
You wanna see?
Sure.
No. No. No!
No, no, no, no!
Oh, wow. They're nice.
And still out!
Yeah, I got the idea from the keyboardist in the Dandy Warhols.
Right.
[Annie giggling]
[electronic riser] [Bass] Brian
Brian.
Time to wakey wakey wakey. Brian.
Come on. Stop fucking around.
Brian.
[ominous music starts]
Brian.
Shit.
What?
I think he's dead dude.
[chuckles]
Yeah, it was a pretty big night.
No, dude as in fucking-dead dead!
Oh, man.
Shit.
I only just got in the band.
I need to Google this.
[phone tapping]
Can we please focus on the current situation at hand?
Our fucking lead singer's dead, man.
How can you be sure?
[loud slap]
That wasn't hard enough.
[louder slap]
He's a deep sleeper?
Hey, hey, I play with those.
[thumping]
[squelching]
[squelching continues]
Okay.
It's not looking good.
But what if umm. What if we--
Oh, oh!
--what if we? You know?
You want to stab him?
Again?
No.
Well yeah actually. You know
like in Pulp Fiction.
That was with adrenaline.
Not heroin.
You thick idiot.
Shit.
What do we do?
I've got an idea. I've got an idea!
[ominous music builds]
[grimicing]
[screaming]
Oh my God. I can't believe we're going to meet the band.
That Brian.
Oh, he's so fucking hot.
Yeah, wait he's not the bald one is he?
No, silly, that's the bass player.
Brian's the lead singer.
Oh, right. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, he's cute.
Not sure he's my type though.
Oh he is definitely mine.
I can totes see us together.
They have a drummer now too, you know.
Although I thought the drum machine on their last album worked fine.
Ooh. What is your favorite song of theirs?
"Sex Gun".
Huh.
I don't think I know that one.
Yeah, it's a B-side.
Oooh, big fan, expert piano player.
Pianist.
Yeah. I don't stand a chance.
You'll do fine.
Aww, you are so nice.
Yeah, well, you know what they say.
Nice girls finish last.
[door swings open and closed]
Look, I have lost my notes.
Which one of you is the child prodigy
and which one of you is the part-time stripper?
Really? You're the stripper?
[clears throat]
No, the other one.
-I work in a charity shop. -Jesus, fuck. Okay.
Yeah, didn't see you there.
So umm you're the genius?
Yeah, I guess so.
Wow, you look so different from the documentary.
[classical piano music builds]
That was about ten years ago, so...
Oh, my God.
You're that girl.
Yeah, the one from the documentary.
What was it called again?
Family--
“Family Discord: Orchestrating a Life.”
Oh my God.
So what were you, like, eight years old
when you were playing in that big orchestra?
The Philharmonic.
Yeah. Excuse me.
I'm just going to go to the bathroom.
[door opens]
[door closes]
[grunting]
[sighs]
Ready?
One, Two.
Three.
[splashing]
[loud gasp]
[excited laughter]
He’s alive!
Holy mother of fuck!
[excited laughter continues]
[Brian] What the actual fuck are you two guys doing?
We thought you fucking died dude.
And we're really late for the auditions.
So you threw me in a bath full of ice?
We tried other things first.
We honest to God thought you fucking died man.
I'm a legend babe.
[rock guitar and drum sting]
Legends never die.
You can do this. [piano note rings]
[ominous piano note rings]
[rock guitar and drums start]
What are you doing?
This gig is mine.
Can we don't just talk about this?
Talk is cheap.
That's another b-side isn't it?
[head hitting sink]
You’re so not rock ‘n’ roll.
[yelp]
[yelping continues]
Rock and roll enough for you?
Ow.
[rock music intensifies]
[rock music dissipates]
Hello. Just me.
Holy shit. When did you get here?
Umm. I was the first here.
-I'm Eileen. -Oh.
[foot steps approaching]
Ah. You're here. [awkward chuckle]
It's so good to see you both.
Obviously.
[rock music returns]
[Annie screams]
[nail file slashing]
[Annie laughing]
[Annie grunting]
[screaming]
Argh, put me down you cu--
[hand dryer blowing]
Well, if it isn't my two favorite ladies.
Celine.
Dionne.
[Dionne] Where's the band Larry?
[Celine] And do not give us some crap-tacular excuse.
Well, you know. Brian.
Yeah. I do. Which is why I'm concerned.
We all know what happened at the Christmas party.
[uncomfortable laughing]
Oh, that.
Yes, that.
Well, rock stars will be rock stars.
No harm was done.
[Dionne] No harm?
He got J-Street off their faces
and convinced one of them to stick their dick
their dick, Larry
in an ice sculpture.
The kid got freezer burn so badly on his bellend,
we had to cancel the New Year's Eve performance.
[Crissy] You know, I also seem to remember both of you
going home that night with Brian. So...
[Dionne] Yeah, well, Brian can be very--
Persuasive.
Look. Look. The band are a few moments away.
Just go inside, enjoy the refreshments,
and we will be listening to the next member of
Stack of Corpses tearing up the piano
in no time at all.
You better hope so Larry.
Or we'll be tearing you a new
-[simultaneously] Arsehole. -All righty then.
[door opens]
[door closes]
[tense music starts] I swear to God, if those bastards aren't here
in the next five minutes, I'm going to chop off
each of the fucking fingers so they never play a song again.
[inhales sharply]
Okay, breathe.
All right, let's just go in there
and keep the label busy.
[rock music intensifies]
Come on Eileen.
Help me or I'll break your other fucking hand.
No. Help me.
[struggling]
Help me.
Oh, fuck this.
-Fuck the both of you. -Shit.
[rock music stops]
[feet tapping]
[rhythmic drumbeat starts]
[rhythmic drumbeat halts]
Oh, great. You're ready.
We'll be with you in five minutes.
Help--
[slap] [teeth crunching on Annie's hand]
[jazzy drumbeat continues]
[piano keys hit]
[face dragging across piano]
Wow, you really can play a good tune!
[giggles]
[face slamming on piano]
[thump]
[perfect piano chord plays]
Not bad.
[fingers crunch] [screams]
[fingers crunch]
You can't harmonize shit, though.
[tense music sting]
[ska music starts]
Oh, for fuck's sake.
[Bass] Seriously dude.
You drive like my nan.
And my nan's dead.
Oh, right. Well, why don't you drive then?
Can't drink and drive, bro.
It's irresponsible.
[laughing]
Don't let him rile you, bud.
Have some of this.
-Cheers bro. -Oh, shit. Oh! Oh shit!
[laughing] [yelping]
I guess you were right.
Nice girls really do finish--
--Last -[car screeching]
Remind me to never let you drive again.
I'm a drummer, not a driver.
[car locking] -Guys, relax.
It's not like anyone died.
-All right my lovelies. -Thank fuck you're here.
What the fuck is wrong with your face?
It's the new look I was telling you about.
You look like you've blown Frosty the fucking Snowman.
Well he's a very lucky snowman then.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Just go in there and schmooze the label.
Ladies!
If it isn't my favourite bread for a Brian sandwich.
-Stop it. -Oh You.
I'm definitely going to put baby in you.
[rock music sting]
--and it turns out, after all of that, there were sisters.
[everyone politely laughing]
[rock guitar riff kicks in]
[Drums] Wasn't that meant to be more of you?
The others-- they were--
Missing out.
You're in the band.
Now this is the type of look you guys need.
It's perfect.
Quick question.
I don't suppose you've heard of the
Dandy Warhols?
[rock riff ends]
Next,
and this is going to seem real obvious,
get a really catchy tune
with a strong hook to it.
Focus on chord progressions
and melody.
Don't overthink it.
Don't overproduce it.
You're not Brian fucking Wilson are you.
Figure out the lyrics last, and then
when you've written your song,
share it with the world.
No! Don't.
The last thing you want is someone ripping you off
before you recorded the fecking thing.
[band finish playing]
[Drums] Bri?
Brian?
BRIAN!
Are you sleeping?
What?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I was just getting in the zone.
You know, the sounds you guys were making were sublime.
It's like I was in another
sonic atmosphere.
Which reminds me.
I've got a great idea for a tune.
I think this is it, I think this is going to be my--
--our next big hit.
In fact, I'm going to go and write it down right now.
Especially the keys.
[rock music]
[rock music halts] -[Larry] Hey.
You think this is legit?
Urgh, hot local girls don't want you right now, Larry. All right?
-No matter what the email says. -No, no, not that again.
Umm.
Look.
[sighs]
Oh.
Dunno, maybe.
Hey, Bri. Quick question.
Can't talk, right now Larry. Places to go, things to do to people.
Don't he mean, umm
places to go, things to do, people to see?
No, no, he meant exactly what he said.
Oh.
So what do you think?
I mean--
--what's the worst that can happen?
Yeah.
Fuck it.
[email sent chimes]
Want to grab some food with us?
Sorry I can't. I've got to go to my second job.
You what? I thought you were rich?
My dad kicked me out, remember?
Got to pay the bills somehow.
What do you do?
I'm a cook.
Like meth?
Like food.
You can get us free food?
[high five]
You can stop high fiving now.
Cheers mate.
[indistinct chatter]
-You know what? -What?
I didn't really like her at first.
Because she didn't like your idea about playing topless?
But now she can get us free food.
She's gone up in my estimations.
Yeah she's nice but
I don't know that a keyboardist was really what our band needed.
No, of course it weren't.
It's a publicity stunt, innit?
Do you think the label will really drop us?
I would.
[sighs]
We just need one good song.
You know, one hit and we'd be in the clear.
Now, if only he'd written us a song.
I don't know who that is.
Fuck off!
You don't know who Richard O'Keefe is?
Amazing singer songwriter.
Wrote countless punk anthems.
[laughs nervously]
I swear to God,
if I was to play you any of his stuff.
Right. You'd go.
I know that one.
Oh, yeah. Lost my virginity to that one.
Oh, shit. Yeah, that one's in that advert.
All right, all right, I'll take your word for it.
He was a great songwriter.
His widow says that
there's loads of unpublished stuff
just sitting there in his office, going to waste, doing nothing.
[intriguing music starts]
What are you staring at?
Is there something in my beard?
Have you ever heard the expression
good artists copy,
great artists
steal?
-Oooh. -[chuckles]
-Nah. -Nah.
[playful jazz music]
Are you sure this is the right place?
I thought he was supposed to be some big, successful singer.
-No. -No?
No
Well, he probably blew it all on drugs, didn't he?
[sighs]
I want to blow it all on drugs.
Ah yeah.
-Yeah? -Yeah.
[playful jazz continues]
[playful jazz ends]
[knocking]
[door opens]
-Oh. -[Deidre] What are you selling?
Oh, no. Nothing.
I just wanted to offer my condolences.
Oh. Thank you.
I'm sorry what condolences?
For your late husband.
Oh, he was late. Was he?
I'll bloody kill him.
You know, I said to him this morning,
if you don't hurry up, you're going to get the sack.
Oh dear.
Do you have--
--Memory issues? -Huh?
[dog barking] -I don't quite know how to say this.
I'm afraid Richard is dead.
Yes, I know Richard's dead.
Oh, great.
[barking continues]
But he's not my husband though.
Fuck.
[dog growling]
Oh, sorry.
I didn't mean to fuck.
I mean, I mean swear.
Fuck.
[dog squealing in pain, barking stops]
Quiet, Lupin love.
Is that your husband?
What?
No. That's my dog, Lupin.
My husband's called Stanley.
Oh, right.
I obviously have the wrong house!
Er, I was looking for Richard O'Keefe's widow.
Oh, well, that's Janice next door.
Ah right, I see it’s the HOUSE NEXT DOOR TO THE RIGHT!
THE HOUSE TO MY RIGHT.
NOT YOUR RIGHT.
-Can you please stop shouting? -Sorry.
It's a condition I have.
I just SHOUT AT INAPPROPRIATE MOMENTS.
Right, get off my step, you rude little man.
Sure, could I just get those flowers back?
No.
But I actually kind of need--
[door slams shut]
[sneaky music starts]
[sneaky music ends]
Oh, hello.
Sorry. Can I just check? Are you Richard O'Keefe's widow?
[Janice sobs loudly]
I'm going to take that as a yes.
Thank you.
[wistful guitar music starts]
Did you know him?
Oh, you know, through his music.
I really feel I did.
But you met him?
No. But--
--look, I just,
I just want to pay my respects.
You know, Richard's music is what got me into playing drums.
I remember the first time I heard his songs.
Which song? Oh, go on.
Which one was your favorite?
[wistful guitar music falls apart]
Oh, you know, his early stuff?
Yeah, his early stuff was great. Oh.
Oh, oh.
[laughing nervously]
Well, which one though?
[banging on stairs]
Oh, don't turn around.
Well, I don't think that was him.
Oh, yeah. You're right.
Oh. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
I just got a text.
-Won’t be a second. [door creaking]
Oh, wait, wait, wait.
It's umm "I get stiff".
Just remembered.
[Deidre] Oh God!
Deidre?
Oh, sorry. Excuse me.
[whimpering]
What is it Deidre?
What's the matter?
It's Lupin.
He’s dead!
[screaming]
[door opens]
[crying continues]
What the fuck did you kill?
I don't know what it was.
Some poodle thing.
It sniffed me.
It would have smelt me out in the line-up.
It had to go. What did you want me to do?
How about not fucking kill it?
[screaming]
The upstairs is locked.
I've got to find some keys?
I'll use those ones then yeah?
[sneaky music starts]
Look, I'm just going to deal with this young man.
-Oh. -You know, I might be able to help.
What?
Yeah. Yeah.
I am, actually, training to be a vet.
Let me take a look at the little guy.
You know, he could just be sleeping, you know?
These poodles tend to be really deep sleepers.
[sneaky music continues]
[sneaky music stops]
[Megan] Mum, is that you?
Are you in the office?
Mum?
[energetic drumming starts]
[imitating female voice] Yeah?
Well, I'm off to work now.
I'll see you for dinner, right?
[imitating female voice] Yeah.
Oh, come on mum, come down.
Let's have a hug.
You can't just fester up there.
[energetic drumming builds]
No, no, no.
[door slams closed]
Oh.
He's dead, mum.
You have to move on.
Come on. Say something.
-[iImitating woman crying] -Look, mum, I know--
--I know that it's hard.
[imitating woman crying continues]
Mum, I miss him too.
Okay, I umm, I understand.
Do you want me pick up anything for dinner tonight.
[imitating female voice] Umm, err.
Really?
I thought you were a vegetarian?
Well I mean I suppose dad was--
--to new experiences!
Right. See you. Love you. Bye.
[imitating female voice] Love you.
Did you hear that?
What?
[keys jingling]
Oh. I thought it was breathing again.
Eh, false alarm.
[chuckles]
-Noooo. -Nooo.
[scoffs]
Absolute toss.
No.
[magical music sting turns into rock song]
That's the one.
That is the one.
This is actually a legitimate way to wake up a sleeping--
[Bass] GET IN!
What was that?
Football game.
Yeah, I think that's a football game on.
Oh, I've had enough of this. I'm calling a proper vet.
Oh, wait, wait, wait.
[sneaky music plays]
[sneaky music ends]
Who the hell are you?
Erm.
I'm--
[loud punch]
[lJanice hitting the ground]
[sniffs]
That'll do.
[swoosh]
[”Everything is Going to be Fine” by Stack of Corpses plays]
Well?
Nothing.
Shit, really?
No, I'm only joking.
We have hit the motherload.
One song?
I thought you said you had loads of stuff.
Read it.
Just read it.
[”Everything is Going to be Fine” by Stack of Corpses intensifies]
This. Is.
Gold.
[”Everything is Going to be Fine” by Stack of Corpses ends]
Watch out for the press.
Get them on your side.
If they don't like you.
Forget it. You're done.
Pack your stuff and go back to suburbia.
There was the period
when every newspaper, magazine,
blog, TV show.
Hated. My. Guts.
Admittedly, I had
punched a TV interviewer in the face,
tried to strangle a cameraman,
and committed what is apparently a lewd act
on leaving the building.
My record sales slumped for six years.
I have to feck off to Amsterdam,
until it all died down.
[sighs softly]
But this interview is going good. Isn't it?
Yeah. Shows how much I've changed.
[snorts drugs]
Ah!
[psychedelic rock music plays]
[camera clicks]
[Phil] You all right mate?
Yeah. Awesome.
Never done a photoshoot like this.
Actually, thinking about it.
Never done a photoshoot. Period.
[chuckles]
You look like a fucking period.
Don't he?
[snickers]
[psychedelic rock music builds]
[psychedelic rock music ends]
[Ramona] Aw, you two. So cute.
I just wanted to say I love you guys.
I downloaded your album the other day,
and I've been listening to it nonstop.
Aww, thanks.
[chilled music plays faintly]
It's a pretty fucking good album, to be fair.
Just going to touch up your gash a bit.
I love gashes, big gashes, small gashes,
hairy gashes, shaved gashes.
I don't even mind baggy gashes.
You name them, I love them.
Maybe just don't say shit like that for when the journalist arrives.
She sounded like a feminist.
It's a little late to that, I'm afraid.
Well, if we could keep his love of gashes off the record,
-that would be great. -Of course.
Hi, I'm Larry the manager.
-Megan, journalist and feminist. -Me too.
I didn't mean anything by it.
I just meant that-- oh, it's an important call.
I have got to take this.
Hi, Larry. Manager.
[sighs]
-Hi. -Right.
So can I do you next, please?
I said the same thing first time I saw her.
Didn't work.
Are you starting a stand up career or something?
Ooh, are you starting a stand up career or something?
[Brian chuckles]
-Fuck me, man. -You know. You've got an amazing face.
[Keys] Thank you.
Oi, Casanova.
She's spoken for.
Am I?
We're dating.
I don't think I'll ever be spoken for.
Oh, come on, babe.
Look, it's a turn of phrase.
You know, I'd never actually speak for you.
You can barely talk for your fucking self.
[exhales]
[taps head]
Come.
[clears throat]
So you two are an item?
Am I okay to include that in the article?
No, that is, that is off the record.
What? Why?
Brian has a lot of female fans.
She is doing my nut in.
Oh, she's not that bad.
[Bass] What are you talking about? Not that bad?
I guarantee now her and him are--
Oh, oh, [kisses] I love you. Oh, please do me, do me.
They'll become a duo, and me and you will be--
jerked off?
Not fucking jerked off, dude.
Out the fucking band!
Honestly dude, I think we should just come clean and tell them
it was me and you that came up with our hit.
Dude!
We talked about this.
We can never, never, reveal where we found that song.
We'd be arrested and we'd be sent to prison.
P-R-I-S-N
No, P-R-I-S-E-N?
-You’re spitting. -No that doesn’t sound fucking right.
P-R-P
P-R It’s got a P in it--
Fine. Please get off me! You shagwit.
It's got a P. I know that much.
[camera clicks]
But...
I am going to bring that bitch down a peg.
[vial unscrewing]
[liquid drops]
Dare I ask what that is?
This, my friend, is a little bit of "California Sunshine".
Oh, that's slang, isn't it?
I don't know what that is,
but I'm looking it up.
Coffee?
Thanks.
-There you, pal. -Cool
Enjoy.
[chilled music plays]
[sighs]
[camera clicka]
-[Phil] You all right? -{Keys] Yeah, yeah.
[Megan] Right, shall we start?
Where's Brian?
Brian, you knobhead, get in here.
You’re fans want to know all he kinky shit you get up to.
There you go lads.
-[Bass] Cheers, Bri. -[Drums] Cheers, Bri.
Cheers.
[ominous thump]
Right, so first off, congrats on the song.
It's amazing.
15 weeks at #1.
So I'd love to do a background piece on where you're from
and how you came out of nowhere.
So I'd really love to start by putting the spotlight on you first,
if that's all right?
So I'd love to know your backstory.
You're the daughter of Lawrence Hadley, the famous classical pianist
who trained you from the age of three.
So what was that like?
Yeah. Like, I'm happy to talk about the band or the music or the album.
But I'd just prefer that we leave my past in the past.
Oh. Sure.
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause offense.
I only brought it up because I can empathize with you.
-You see, my father-- -It's fine.
[Phil] Hi. Sorry.
Can I get a few more solo shots of her, please?
Yeah.
The producers of a very famous movie franchise
want to use our song as the main theme. Ha!
Isn't that exciting?
Okay, let's err, let's change subjects.
So what are your influences?
I thought the song was very reminiscent of
Richard O'Keefe.
[troubling music sting]
-What? -No.
Never heard of him.
Oh, I don't know. [heartbeat and tense music builds]
I was certainly a fan of his back in the day.
No, no you fucking weren't.
[clears throat]
No, we ain't influenced by anyone, you know?
Especially not Richard O-fucking-Keefe.
He's shit.
[Phil] Oh, I would mind what you say if I were you?
It's all right Phil.
What? What do you mean?
Well, I'm Richard O'Keefe's daughter.
[intense music sting]
[Brian] Fuck off.
Tell that old codger to answer his phone.
Well, he's-- um--
[clears throat]
Can we have a second?
Err, Brian!
[upbeat party music starts]
[Phil] You okay?
We got to #1 in Japan, Singapore and Guam.
Isn't that exciting?
I don't even know where Guam is.
[Brian hums joyfully]
Interview's going well, isn't it?
No, no it ain't.
-What are the fucking chances? -Shut up.
-Do you think she knows? -Shut up.
-She knows, she knows. -Shut the fuck up.
She knows and she's gonna trick us into confessing.
Confessing what?
Nothing. Nothing.
Look, we, we really need to pull out this interview because I don't like her
and her questioning, it's aggressive.
What are you doing?
[liquid drops] -hmm?
Oh shit, sorry boys. Do you want a top up too?
What do you mean "top up"?
Did you put that, in our coffees?
Yeah. Course.
Part-tay!
What the fuck are you doing?
We, we want to pull out of the interview.
-Do we? -Yeah.
No fucking way.
Do you know the circulation of this magazine?
The exposure is just too big.
You are not fucking canceling it.
Just go in there and answer some fucking questions.
All right?
Okay, Larry.
Did you know
the CIA used LSD as a truth serum in the 60s?
[music turns aggressive]
[Brian] Hmm thank God.
Is this not affecting you?
Nah, took too much of it at Glastonbury five years didn't I?
Just get really fucking horny sometimes now.
[echoing] Oh, well.
[music turns slow and trippy]
[blood pouring]
[electronic music speeds up]
[dog panting]
[pop]
[Bass nervously laughs]
[Richard growling]
Are you okay?
[Richard licking]
Nooo.
Would you mind ringing me a priest or a lawyer, please?
I mean I--
We just got offered a place on the new Christmas charity song.
Isn't that exciting?
Ah, Larry. A week in the recording studio with Bono is not exciting, mate.
[fairground music plays in Keys' head] -Yeah, we can work with this.
Right, so we were talking about influences.
Ah, yes.
-So I really, really like-- -I cheated on my Maths A-Level
GCSE. SATs.
[Drums] Fuck.
I'm sorry? What?
[giggles]
I stole tramp's shoes.
Are you feeling all right?
[wimpering]
I can't go to prison.
I can barely fucking spell prison.
[Bass laughing nervously]
Are you all high?
[Keys wailing]
[fairground music distorts in cracking]
[distorted] Are you okay?
[frantic music ends with punch]
[Phil thuds on the ground]
Oh my God.
[heartbeat builds]
What? What happened?
I think she punched him in the face.
Right. I'm calling 999.
It was just a punch.
My mother died last year when she got punched in the face by an intruder.
[troubling music starts]
You're kidding me!
Oh my God, have I killed him?
Well, let's have a wee look.
Well, I didn't throw the punch!
Well we get it wasn't you Columbo.
Hi, me again.
When you say dead
-do you mean, like, in the ground? -[Operator] Hello emergency service operator
-[Operator] What service do you require? -Do we have an idea who done it?
What?
Hello? Yes.
Ambulance, please.
[Operator] I’ll just connect you now.
[slurps]
Hmm, that's good shit.
[Distorted piano music plays] -[Keys’ Father] Come on.
You're better than this.
I'm sorry. Dad.
I just don't want to play for the orchestra anymore.
I mean, an electronic keyboard?
I'm a rock star now. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
[Ramona] I heard you like beating old ladies to death.
[Ramona turning to Janice] That really turns me on.
[static, menacing music]
Argh!
Phil, Phil!
[hopeful music plays]
Fuck it.
By the way, this may not be the best time, but our readers voted you
the best drummer in the history of the world.
-Oh, wicked. -[audience applause]
[audience booing]
Just kidding I'm fine.
[80s TV End Credit music plays]
[crazed laughter]
[80s TV End Credit music cuts off]
Will you stop fucking laughing!
-Look. I'm 22. [Brian laughing]
I'm not your little girl anymore.
Will you stop fucking laughing!
I'm going to prison.
[prison door bolting]
[Michael] You're all right.
-Welcome back. -God, I'm so sorry.
I don't know what happened.
One minute I was fine, and then you were--
It's fine.
Accidents will happen.
I want to take you down to the ambulance.
We should still get you checked out at the hospital.
Are you sure none of you are injured, too?
[Brian] Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
It's just makeup.
I am having a bit of trouble getting this bad boy to go down though.
Not urgent though.
I'll come with you.
No. Stay. Finish your interview.
You've got three pages to fill
and you've only asked two questions.
Yeah. He's right. Let's just finish the interview.
[unsettling music starts]
Just let me find my notes.
Hello?
[Russian voice] Finally. He answers.
We were beginning to get upset.
We were beginning to think you were
avoiding us.
We're not happy with you, Larry.
So please stay where you are.
We will be with you shortly.
[laughs]
Good luck.
You don't know where I am.
[Russian voice laughs]
Your drummer just posted on Instagram.
You're at DeHavilland Studios.
[intense music riser]
So tell me.
Right, something important has come up.
We have got to go.
But I haven't asked any questions.
Well, this is what you need to know.
He can't read music. He grew up on a farm.
She's running away from her father.
His favorite food is fucking coleslaw.
And he had an internet startup that went bust.
Everything else just make up some quotes and I'll rewrite them at the proofing stage.
-Come on -[Drums] Okay.
-Let's go, let's go -[Bass] Nice to meet you.
Let's, move, move, move.
-Why are you so fucking slow. -[Bass] All right Lar, still coming down here.
[Drums] Okay.
Come on.
Move, move!
Let's go.
Fucking rockstars.
Get a good manager.
Someone who'll pull their finger out for you and really go the distance.
I've had about err...
38 over the years.
20 of them were between 1995 and 1996.
I had a short term memory problem.
A stage dive went wrong.
Kept forgetting that I'd already hired one
[mysterious rock music builds]
[tape rewinding]
[tape stopping]
[unsettling music starts]
[Donnie, Russian voice] You should have done as you were told, Larry.
But can't say I'm not enjoying this.
[Marie] Babe.
This is going to take forever.
Darling,
no one likes a back seat torturer.
Sorry.
You're doing great.
Urgh.
[sighs]
Bozhe Moi! (Oh my God)!
What?
You gonna mess your hand up?
You're gonna ruin your clothes,
and we're going to be late for the fucking show!
Okay.
What do you suggest?
Get one of the other two to give him a
going over with the crowbar until he talks.
Or he dies.
[laughing]
This is why I bring her along.
Creative solutions.
Problem solver.
Ugh!
[sighs]
[grunts]
[chair scraping on floor]
[phone ringing]
[TV announcer] Hold tight, next up is the award-winning documentary
“Family Discord: Orchestrating a Life” -[Sound of phone ringing]
which follows composer Lawrence Hadley as he trains his daughter Kelly
to become head pianist of the Philharmonic Orchestra.
[ominous thump]
Okay.
[heavy metal music plays]
[phone vibrating quietly]
[heavy metal music halts]
Fucking hell.
[On TV - Newsreporter] The 27 year old daughter of singer Richard O'Keefe arrived
in court today to face offenses of driving under the influence of LSD.
[Paparazzi] That's not your first trip is it Mrs O'Keefe?
For the record,
I am not my father's daughter,
I have never done drugs.
Except weed. Once.
-Dad? Look-- -Thank God!
It's Larry.
I'm tied up and I'm in a warehouse.
Oh my God!
Do you really think I'm going to fall for that?
Dick!
[ominous thump]
Oh you fucking bitch.
[sigh turns to loud sniff]
Oh, fuck. That's good.
[annoying ringtone plays]
Oi. Oi. Larry, baby! What's up?
Bri, it's me.
Are you sober?
You mean if I've been drinking?
-No. -Great.
I need you to listen very carefully.
I need your help.
I'm tied up in a warehouse
and I need you to come and get me.
There are some very bad people
who are pissed off with me.
Okay. Okay.
Where am I going?
I...
I don't know.
Well this just got a lot fucking harder. Erm.
How did you get there?
I mean did you walk? drive?
Fly?
[door closes and locks]
[mysterious music plays]
They jumped me outside of my house,
and then they put me in the back of the van.
[door closes]
I don't know where I am or how I got here. [tires screeching]
Are you fucking crazy?
This guy.
[car horn beeping]
[ship horn blaring] -Wait. Ship!
Ship! A port. I'm near a port.
[raucous rock music starts]
All right, that's a start.
I'll head there now.
[raucous rock music continues]
[whoosh]
[screaming changes to roaring engine]
♪ Got no insurance still going far ♪
♪ got no driving license ♪
♪ this ain't even my car ♪
Man, no wonder I'm fucking famous.
MT42 1NR
Argh.
Mmm.
Here's to you Larry.
Brian, are you--
Are you still there?
I'm going to give you a postcode.
Just, just hold on a fucking second, will you?
[hits steering wheel]
Ah. [ship horn blaring]
That's great. Thanks, babe.
Woo.
Brian.
Have you been having a blowjob this entire time?
Well not the whole time.
Just listen.
I'm going to give you the postcode.
It's um--
MT42 1NR
All right, we're in business.
I'll head there now.
[sighs joyfully]
So, you're probably wondering
who these guys are.
-Dealers? -No.
-Rent boys? -No. Look,
I'm trying to tell you something.
Something important.
This email came through a few months back,
and these guys said that they could manipulate the streaming data
so they could make it look like a song had millions of hits and downloads,
and it was all untraceable.
What did you do?
The song, Brian.
It was doing well but then it stalled.
So I got them to get you to #1.
But then they took it too far.
Don't you?
Don't you find it weird that you were #1 for 15 weeks?
So why did they kidnap you?
Because I couldn't pay them back.
They're crazy. They want the profits and more.
And I literally have nothing else to give them.
Hang on a second.
Why did they leave you your phone?
They didn't. I'm a manager.
I have two fucking phones.
Well, thank God for that.
Yeah, and thank God you answered those other three bastards ignored me.
[ship horn blaring] -Ah, you know Brian's got your back.
So umm err...
You're not upset?
About what?
That you didn't actually make it to #1?
I'm a little disappointed.
Yeah. But.
All I ever really wanted was to be famous, and I got there.
You got me there.
If I got that email.
I probably would have done the same thing.
[heavy metal music starts]
Shit, shit, shit Brian, they're coming back.
[heavy metal music ends] [door rattling]
[Elton] Shit.
What happened? I thought he was dead.
I told you weren't hitting him hard enough.
[Johnny] Hey, it might have been the wind.
Might have been the wind?
You think he got blown over by the wind?
[kick] -Ooh.
Well, he’s not moving.
[saw wobbles]
[tense tone builds]
[metal slices]
Right.
What now?
Shouldn't we wait for Donnie?
Nah, didn't you see how long
-the queue in Bingo Wings was? -[sighs]
Okay, okay, okay.
[tense music swells]
[tense music ends]
Hang on, hang on.
[laughs nervously]
I need some music to work with.
[“Legends Never Die” by Stack of Corpses plays]
♪ “You’re a star” I hear them cry ♪
Oh, this is a good one. ♪ but stars they fall from the sky ♪
♪ I’m a legend, I’ll tell you why ♪
♪ Legends never die ♪
[“Legends Never Die” continues outside] [thump]
♪ I’m history ♪
Fucking tune!
♪ I’m infamy ♪
[music turns down] ♪ Mythology ♪
Okay.
Let's, um.
♪ A deity ♪
Let's cut the fingers off first,
and then we'll do the teeth,
and then it's head urgh--
--last.
[nervous breathing]
-Wait! -What? What?
You bought heavy duty bags.
And?
You should have got compostable ones.
These ones ain't good for the environment.
Well excuse me, Captain Planet.
[growls]
[nervous breathing]
[music intensifies]
Ugh.
[sickening crunch] [loud screaming]
Where's my gun?
Where's my gun!
[loud screaming continues]
[yells]
[body hitting ground]
[grunts]
[guitar solo starts]
Hello sweetheart!
[neck breaking]
[body hitting ground]
Brian, I could kiss you.
[gunshot]
[music turns muted]
[panicked breathing]
[muffled cries]
[trainers squeaking]
How’s that for a bag for life?
Motherfucker.
[gun cocks]
[feedback rings out]
[groans]
Brian, he's still alive.
[gunshot]
Larry, Larry mate. Don't panic all right
You're going to be fine.
That's sweet, Brian, but
[squelching]
I'm going to die.
You can't die.
Legends never die.
Yes they do.
Listen--
[inaudible whispering by Larry]
[Brian] Shit, really?
[Donnie] They did not have any coleslaw.
I got--
--barbecue beans.
Oh, FUCK!
[gunshots]
Larry
I think I shot him in the arsehole!
[sighs joyfully]
[sighs]
and the dickhead dropped his chicken.
[sighs]
Oh, look at this.
You’re a fucking dancer.
[crunch]
[kicking body]
Larry.
[mornful music riser]
Larry?
Creative differences can be a killer.
Don't squabble with your bandmates.
It's not worth it.
Do you remember my album,
"Peasants, Gypsies, Troubadours and the meaning of Nothing"?
Well, I wanted to call it
Egg.
Just egg.
Not even the word.
Just a picture of an egg.
And I had a huge row with my seventh
bass player, Jeff--um
someone.
We had a legal battle which lasted for 18 months.
And you both agreed to settle in the end, right?
Correct.
It was pistols at dawn on Hampstead Heath to sort it all out.
I felt so bad about shooting him through the leg
that I let him name album anyway.
That’s nice.
[”Everything is Going to be Fine” by Stack of Corpses plays]
♪ I let you down, that's my crime ♪
♪ Now everything is going to be fine ♪
♪ I stole your breath, then held mine ♪ [panicked breathing]
♪ Now everything is going to be fine ♪
♪ I tied the knot, crossed the line ♪
♪ Now everything is going to be fine ♪
[CD player clicks off]
[indicator clicks off]
[tense music builds]
[struggling in pain]
[windscreen wiper whirrs]
Ugh.
[squelching]
[yelp]
Oh, shit. Oh.
[glass smashes]
Oh, gah
[hard rock music plays] [screams]
[hard rock music ends]
[sighs]
[slap]
I've always wanted to do that.
[slap]
[car quietly screeching against tree]
[tense music]
Are you fucking joking?
Oh! Come on.
Oh. Oh.
[car wheel crunching leaves]
[tense music continues]
[grunts]
[tense music halts]
[feedback]
[phone ringing]
Where the fuck are you, you--?
I'm sorry I thought--
You what?
-Is this meant to be a joke? -What is that?
It's Brian.
He's dead.
What?
Shit. A. Brick. What happened?
Sounds like that
auto-erotic asphyxiation thing.
-Christ, first Larry, now Brian. -[Bass] You sure he’s actually dead?
What the hell is auto-erotic--
Oh, it's-- um--
-[Bass] Have you tried throwing him in a bath of ice?
you put a belt around your neck while you’re having a
[masturbating noises] Pfft, uh oh!
[nervous laugh]
Yeah, of course. Sure, no problem.
You do.
Okay. Thank you, Consuela.
But why would you do that?
'Cause it feels fucking ama--
It's a thing that people are doing now.
Yeah, everyone's doing it, you know.
David, what's his name?
And, oh, Michael--
Oh, God.
Are you looking up their names on Google?
No. I'm going to tweet the news.
No your not, hold off until we figure out what we're going to say first.
Yeah.
[tense music resumes]
Ugh fucking useless.
Well, at least you stopped the car.
[phine chimes]
[music builds]
[lively chatter and rock music]
Thanks so much.
And this one is my favorite.
-I'm not even in this one. -Oh.
It’s good though.
I'm not signing this.
Well, then you better lawyer up.
Can we just walk away with some dignity?
Dignity ain't an option after what Brian did?
The band's mine. Now get it signed.
[tuts]
[tense music resumes]
[grunts]
What the fuck?
Yes, yes, yes.
[sreaming turns to satisfied tasting]
So what happened?
I thought you were quitting anyway?
Yeah, the thing is--
All right, so I just got the new posters back from the printers.
-What do you think? -Looks good, boss.
How are we supposed to do a mini-tour without a singer.
'Cause its an instrumental.
Right and what are we doing about the fact that our bass player is suing us?
Ugh, I get so much negativity from you.
She's not wrong, you know.
You are a bit of a negative influence.
The thing is, if we don't fight this.
[slams phone]
Really fight this,
then that asshole gets the royalties.
-Everything. -I don't know if I can do this.
You know courts, lawyers,
judges, juries.
-The woman who does the typing. -What the Stenographer?
And they're all wearing wigs.
Do I have to buy a wig?
-I can barely pay my rent. -Don't worry.
I'll handle it.
Everything's going to be
Fine!
This does not look fine.
[fly buzzing]
Oh. Oh, I'm going to be sick.
[retching]
Oh my God, your hands. Are they okay?
[grunts]
I can only move my thumb and "Mr Pointy"!
Oh, the drum solo in "Sticks for Kicks" is going to suck even more now.
[finger drops and squirts]
You know, the drummer from Def Leppard's only got one arm?
Yeah, but he's shit.
Yeah.
-Where's Count Fuckula?
There.
How'd he get under the wheel?
I put him there.
[birds singing]
You put him under the car?
Yeah.
Okay, yeah.
[tense electro starts]
Oh, I get it.
I see.
Get rid of him, then get rid of me.
-Make it look like an accident. -What are you talking about?
It is an accident.
We--
You crashed the car.
You were never worried about him.
-You just wanted all for yourself. -No, no, no, no, no.
The car was rolling. It was going to crush everyone.
I was trying to save YOU.
-He said you'd do something like this.
What?
-Don't even think about it.
[crazed music intensifies]
I'm sorry.
Just die okay, please.
[squelching] -Argh!
Huh?
Argh.
[Keys coughing]
Oh, come on, you piece of--
[crazed laughing]
Argh!
[thuds on ground]
Hey.
Not the face.
Come on.
No.
[squelching] Argh!
The book says we should get rid of negative influences.
Okay then.
Ha ha ha ha ha!
[skull crack]
[sigh]
[grunts]
Idiot!
[birds singing]
[phone chimes]
Oh, give me a fucking break.
[phone unlocking]
[“Stomach Churn” by Stack of Corpses plays on radio]
[Drums] Are we going to sit in silence the whole way.
Listen, if you two just sign this fucking thing,
I will happily start talking again.
You know, he's only doing this so that he can buy a giant pool in his garden.
Oh, sweet. I want a pool.
[Bass] Whatever. Screw this.
I'm one of the founders.
That doesn't justify you getting all the damn money.
Well I ain't going to stop until that's the case.
Jesus Christ, this isn't worth it. Just give me the fucking thing.
I'll sign it right now.
Watch the shitting road!
[car rapidly accelerating] Which one's the brake?
Oh my God, why did we let you drive? [car screeching out of control]
Woah, woah, woah. Shit, shit, shit.
[impactful sting]
Is-- is he dead?
Don't know.
Don't think he'll be doing any stage diving any time soon.
[Bass groans]
Looks like your headbanging days are over too.
You don't look too clever yourself.
Nah.
I’ve got used to it.
It's a bit like that--
--magazine shoot we did, remember?
Yeah.
That was pretty wild.
Why did Brian have to go kill himself?
I don't think he meant to.
He certainly fucked us all.
Yeah, he did.
He actually did.
[tense bass starts]
We're--
We're all right though right?
I mean, we're still, still friends.
We were never friends.
Come on, don't be like that.
Hmm.
Let's hug it out.
Come on. Hey.
For Brian.
Come on.
Here we go.
Awww.
There we go.
[sniffs]
[tense music swells] I want to tell you something.
I know we haven't always seen eye to eye.
From now on, you don't need to worry about that.
Okay?
Because I'm--
I'm gonna kill you.
Argh!
[paper crumples]
What the fuck is that?
Rock, paper, scissors-- [tense electro pop music starts]
Fucking bitch! Fucking bitch!
[growling]
Fucking hate you.
[metal groans]
I swear to fucking God.
[wiper swiping through air] -Argh!
[“Too Hot To Handle” by Stack of Corpses plays on radio]
You think I won't find you in the car?
I spy with my little eye
something beginning with cu--
[car horn beeping]
♪ Too hot to handle ♪
I've seen cats on the internet ♪ Making bad decisions ♪
that play piano better than you do! ♪ Done the Kama Sutra ♪
Urgh. ♪ now we’re making new positions ♪
♪ Done the deed with red ♪
♪ Had my way with purple ♪
♪ You’re the only one who lets me♪
Hey. Please. Please. ♪ in the inner circle ♪
No please.
We have a gig tomorrow.
Not anymore we don't.
[whimpering]
[head crunching]
[panting]
♪ Too hot to handle ♪
♪ You make me feel ♪
[guitar solo]
♪ Too hot to handle ♪
♪ I’m in the mood ♪
[CD player turns off, new CD is inserted]
[Brian on CD] Hey guys, it's me.
Brian.
Obviously.
So, look, I know things are going a bit shit at the moment.
The feelings you guys create gives me butterflies in my stomach
and has me headbanging like a nun on Sunday.
And then I add my piece and--
--it all just goes to shit.
It's you guys that are the heart and soul of the band.
You can stick anyone in front of the mic.
Christ, paint their face
and people probably won't even notice that it's not me.
And in the meantime,
I'm sure you’ll get at least a couple of extra sales from me
Knock, knock, knockin on heaven's door.
Just to be clear, I'm going to kill myself.
But not to worry.
It will be done very tastefully.
That's it really.
God, it's been fun.
Especially all the sex.
[Brian on CD] I promise you guys will come out of this
so much stronger.
Take care of each other.
Everything's going to be fine.
You know, like the song.
The only one the public actually liked.
Well, I hope it was a good wank, Brian.
[Richard] Finally...
know when your time's up
and walk away.
Every musician has a finite shelf life.
The fans get bored eventually.
I'm not advocating topping yourself and leaving a note.
But sometimes it's best to go gracefully.
And do you feel you went out gracefully?
The naked rooftop concert would have been great
in the 1960s, the mistake was trying to do it in the early 2000s.
People are so prudish nowadays.
[ethereal music plays]
Ugh, what the?
Oh, where am I?
[sighs]
Ugh.
[whimpering]
[head crunching]
I fucking died.
Which means-- no.
No.
No, no, no.
What idiot let me into heaven.
[Drums grunts]
Same person who let me in.
Oh, shit.
She killed you too.
Ha ha ha ha ha!
[skull crack]
I guess so.
[exhales]
Oh.
Fuck dude.
What?
[heavy guitar riff plays]
Argh, fuck.
Fuck’s my arm?
Where's my fucking arm?
[panicked screaming]
Where's my fucking arm man?
-Hey, hey, hey. -Where's my fucking--
Breathe. Calm down.
Calm down, calm down.
Look at me.
Calm down, calm down. Breathe.
Okay, okay, okay?
There we are.
Hey, listen. Everything's going to be fine.
[nervous laugh]
Yeah.
Plus...
the drummer from Def Leppard only had one arm.
[growls]
How can this be heaven
if I've lost my fucking arm?
Obvious.
Coleslaw.
Whiskey.
And...
She ain't here.
[unsettling xylophone music]
[restraints strain]
[door opens]
You?
[door closes]
[footsteps]
-No. What are you doing? -Shhh
[male voice] You're lucky you didn't sever any major arteries,
otherwise you'd have bled out.
Well, what am I doing here?
We came across you in the woods,
so we brought you here to patch you all up.
-All of us. The other two they-- -Yeah.
Alive and well.
You’ll be able to join them soon.
In fact, I'd better go check up on them.
Er. Wait. Where are you going?
You can't leave me here.
Why am I tied to the bed?
Well, we don't want you moving around too much or falling off
-and reopening that wound. -But I'm awake now, so--
[door opening]
Wait, who's we?
[door closing]
Hey! Who's we?
Who's we?
Are they make her drink someone's piss?
That's what happens when you kill your band mates.
An eternity of piss drinking in hell.
So you think that's where she is?
Got to be part of the heaven deal mate, isn't it?
You get to hear who put you here
suffer.
I don't know man. I'm--
I'm still not sure this is heaven.
-Why not? -Well, my arm aside
I'm pretty sure you've been cutting the cheese.
And?
I just didn't think farts would be a thing in heaven.
Maybe not your heaven.
I don't want to smelly heaven.
[mocking] I don't want to smelly heaven.
[door unlocks]
Ooh what's that?
[door hitting head]
Oh, fuck me dude. [Drums laughs]
[Michael] Sorry.
-Here, let me take a look. -Argh!
[chuckles]
Does nobody fucking knock anymore, man?
So um-- this isn't heaven then?
Oh, no
It's just my home.
We found you all barely alive.
Brought you back here and fixed you up.
When you're not fucking breaking us again, dude.
But um--
our favorite food and drinks?
Read about it in an article.
And, my arm?
Your hand had got infected.
I had no choice.
I'm sorry.
Anyway, I better go and get the other one
[door opening]
and the instruments ready.
[door closing] What a nice guy!
Are you fucking high? [door locks]
It's him.
From the interview.
Fixed the photo guy.
The fucking--
The Megan O'Keefe interview.
-Oh, shit. -Oh, shit.
I fucking knew she knew.
But if Megan knows we know.
Then why is she not just turning us into the cops?
She doesn't want us in prison.
Not after what we fucking did, dude.
Did you hear what he said?
He's going to get the medical instruments.
[unsettling music]
Oh, he's going to torture us.
Bingo.
Not if we jump him first.
[music intensifies]
[heavy breathing]
Shit! Shit!
[door unlocks and opens]
Ow, what the actual fuck dude?
Dude, I didn't--
[war cry] No, no, no.
[Brian hitting the floor]
Holy fuck.
You just killed Brian.
Brian's already dead.
[hissing gas]
Well, he fucking is now.
Brian...
[sniffing]
Wakey, wakey.
Oh, fuck. What's that smell?
It's not me this time.
[intense electro beat starts]
[intense electro beat subsides]
[chain rattling]
[Brian] Don't waste your energy, babe.
Ta da!
Surprised to see me.
Well, we were on the way to your funeral.
I'm a legend, babe.
Legends never die.
Legends also don't fake their own death by asphyxi-wank.
Well, I had to make it plausible didn’t I.
Listen.
[chain locks]
Fuck heads.
We need to figure out how we're going to get away from this psycho.
Before we end up a “stack of corpses”.
[drums - "ba dum tish"]
Not the time dude.
Sorry. I make bad jokes when I'm nervous.
And I'm really fucking nervous.
Look.
I think this guy's a fan, right?
So we'll play him a few tunes,
finish on the big that I wrote,
and then, like the song--
"Everything's going to be fine."
Yeah, I'm sure that's gonna work.
Why not?
The thing is, mate.
[sneaky music plays]
You didn't write the song.
Hmm?
[Drums] We wrote it in your song book when you were passed out.
[Keys] You wrote the song? You two?
[Bass] Well, No. We kind of stole it from Megan's dead dad, Richard O'Keefe.
[Drums] And he killed her mum.
[Keys] What? [punch]
We've all done things we're not proud of.
[Drums] And her neighbour's dog.
[Deidre] Oh God!
Will you stop talking?
Look, in this business, you've got to get your hands dirty. Yeah.
Rock ‘n’ roll ain't for everyone.
Plus, I got us our biggest and only hit.
Umm.
Technically speaking, not a hit.
What are you talking about?
Larry paid a gang to manipulate the streaming and download data
to make it look like a hit.
[unsettling music]
And then it sort of became one.
But when the gang came to collect their portion of the profits,
we'd already spent it.
So they killed Larry and with his last breath,
he told me to fake my own death.
Otherwise they'd come for me next.
-[Keys] When did you get captured? -[Priest] We are gathered here--
-[Priest] --to celebrate the life of Brian.
At my funeral.
You went to your own funeral?
[Brian] Fuck, yes, I went.
Wore a kick ass disguise.
Like fucking Mission Impossible or something.
I was just curious
to see who turned up.
I got to say, it was pretty good turnout.
I mean, a few of them even had little blue chins.
So good. Anyway.
Yeah, we were all filing out the cemetery and
I got jumped.
So let me get this straight.
You two killed an old lady and a dog to steal a dead singer's song.
Yeah.
[Brian] For shame, boys.
[Keys] Well, you're even worse. [tense electro music builds]
Hmm?
When things got tough, you faked your own death.
Ran away to hide and left us to deal with Larry's fucking mess.
Yeah. I thought my dad was bad.
Pushing me to practice every day for the orchestra.
But you three lazy, stupid,
full of yourself dickheads
really take it to the next level.
Ah, thanks.
It's not a compliment.
At no point did we think to rehearse more.
Put in the hours.
Really figure out our sound. Oh, no, no, no.
We wanted the easy route.
Now we're going to die in some weirdos house at the hands of either
a revengeful journalist or a pissed off hacker.
Neither of which, by the way, explains why the paramedic
from the photoshoot is helping.
Anything for my little girl.
[Annie] Last--
Oh, hi, guys.
[beep]
[balloons inflating]
[tense electro music]
Oh, shit.
I have been waiting so long for this moment.
The big reunion concert.
-But you, you were-- ugh-- -I was in a coma for 12 months.
Thanks to you.
[Bass] Hold up.
All of this is because of you.
No, she attacked me.
Oh. Details.
[Michael] Oh, Annie. Are you okay?
[neck cracking]
Are you okay, Annie?
I'm fine, Dad.
What the hell is going on?
I was meant to audition, but
she took away my chance.
We're going to rectify that.
Daddy.
[Annie giggles]
This is my master plan.
First, we announce that Brian is alive and well
and that he's reformed the new band
Annie and the Stack of Corpses.
Then we record a hit new song,
which I've already written.
It's called "Bitch Ran Me Over".
Based on a true story. Daddy.
[bad techno music plays from stereo]
[“Bitch Ran Me Over” sung by Annie]
[sniffs and clears throat]
♪ I practiced really hard ♪
♪ Got my hair in good condition ♪
♪ Looking super hot ♪
♪ Gonna slay my audition ♪
♪ Arrived right on time ♪
♪ Sat next to this poser, minding my own business ♪
♪ when Bitch ran me over! ♪
That is completely inaccurate.
It's called artistic license, honey.
[tense electro music resumes]
Then me and Brian
will have a child.
-Then you and I will have a child, -Yeah we will.
and then me and you will have a child.
[cackles]
We'll do all the hot gossip magazines.
Then they'll form their own band.
Mini Stack of Corpses.
Then we'll make a documentary about me and the band.
[cackles]
[Bass] I like her.
This is insane.
You're insane.
Umm, sorry.
Why the fuck are you keeping her alive?
-Mate! -I need her to teach me the piano parts.
There's loads of places online you can find those for free.
-[Keys] Seriously? -[Drums] Oh, shit. Sorry.
Oh well, in that case--
[slicing sound]
Daddy, you can take her away now.
As for the rest of us,
we need to get practicing.
And if we refuse?
Yeah.
[drumstick slams down]
Fuck this.
I won't do it.
You know, I am a huge fan of your first album.
"Never forget your first time".
He, he. That's the one.
And do you know what I like
the most about it?
[bass strum]
Solid bass lines.
Well, yes.
And the beautiful vocals.
But also how it all just sounded
so good.
Even...
[cymbal rattles]
with just a drum machine.
[lock opening]
[cymbals piercing neck] [high pitched screaming]
[intense guitar music starts] -What the fuck!
Oh, fuck.
-[Bass] She fucking killed Drew! -[Brian] Whyyyyy?
-[Bass] Fucking demented cow -[Brian screaming]
Urgh!
[Drums gurgling]
[cymbal rattles]
[Drums’ head and blood making "ba dum tish" sound]
[Annie giggles]
[heavy rock music]
Yaaaaaaa!
[Annie screams]
[Annie and Keys struggle]
[keyboard demo jingle starts]
[Annie squeals]
[Keys laughs manicly]
-I bet this is the best sound you can get from this thing!
Dad!
[heavy rock music resumes]
Leave my little girl alone.
[Annie and Keys struggle]
[Keys screams]
[Michael screams]
What the fuck are you doing?
Every band goes through a lineup change.
-Oh my god! -[Kisses guitar]
[squelching] -[Micheal] Argh!
[retching]
Daddy!
Annie, I'm not okay.
[Bass] You heard what she said
[Bass] we all get to shag her.
Wait, I'm sure we can work something out.
[feedback ringing] -Argh! Ah, ah, ah!
[ear-piercing feedback muffles rock music]
[toe crunches]
[Bass] Ugh, my foot!
[Bass] You broke my foot bone!
[feedback subsides, heavy rock resumes]
[Annie] Urgh!
[Bass] How am I going to use a pedal?
[Brian choking]
[Bass slapped by bass guitar]
Oh!
[balloon pop]
[bass guitar hits ground]
Guess we're forming a girl band?
That wasn't part of my master plan.
[tambourine smash]
[Annie squeals]
[guitar solo rises]
Woah, what are you doing with that?
Do you know how long it took me to make that?
[Keys roars]
[violent thump]
[Annie screams]
[bone crunching]
[flesh impaled by masterplan]
[Annie high pitched scream]
[rock music transitions into twinkly pop music]
[chains scraping]
Whoa, whoa.
Wait, wait, wait.
I didn't mean to help her.
I was confused.
Come on, we're meant to be band mates.
Thank you.
Just think about the great PR we'll get out this eh?
Me and you. We'll be like a power duo.
Good idea
get a picture of all this.
It’ll make a really good album cover, wouldn't it?
Oh. Where are you going?
I'm going solo.
No. Oi.
Don't fuck about.
Please.
[keys jangle]
[Twinkly pop morphs into punk guitar music]
I want my fucking money.
[keys jangle]
[key piercing neck]
Fucking-- rock-- stars.
[keys hit ground]
Hi, Dad.
Is there's still a place for me in the orchestra?
[Bass slipping on keys]
[head crushed by rock]
Yeah, I mean I've realised
Rock 'n' roll just isn't for me.
[“How Do You Sleep At Night” by Tom Watt plays]
♪ How do you sleep at night? ♪
♪ The world’s a record still spinning ♪
♪ How do you sleep at night? ♪
♪ I know you’re out to get me ♪
♪ put me on ice ♪
♪ How do you sleep at night? ♪
♪ Killing my song ♪
♪ How do you sleep at night? ♪
♪ You murdered my sound ♪
♪ Bad trip, watch yourself ♪
♪ Are you afraid of doing time? ♪
♪ Big hit, not by itself ♪
♪ I’m gonna follow you home ♪
♪ and cut you a smile ♪
♪ ‘Cause everyone’s a saint ♪
♪ til the well runs dry ♪
♪ How do you sleep at night? ♪
♪ They’re trying to murder me ♪
♪ murder me, murder me, murder me ♪
♪ Murder me ♪
[guitar solo]
[car hitting Keys]
Got you bitch!
[guitar sting]