01x03 - Episode 3

[bunniefuu]

We will be a regiment

sh**ting grouse in their roost in the dark.

Riley, Almonds, remember the parachutes?

Stirling wants to

know if we'll do it again.

I'm not asking for anything

other than permission

and 60 men.

Men I will choose

according to my own criteria.

Why do you want to

fight in the desert, Dave?

Well, I just wanna k*ll ‘em fascists, sir.

This regiment isn't all Paddys, is it?

If you decide to join them,

I will join the SAS too.

They've been sent to a place called Kabrit

200 miles behind

the German and Italian lines.

What are the chances of survival?

Ten per cent.

This is SAS basecamp.

Stopping the advance of fascism

across Africa is now down to us.

God help us.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Paddy!

Play the mad man.

He is the mad man!

Here! Do you postmen have a problem

with a wee bit of wind?

Oh, Paddy, shut up.

I'd fly one of these f*cking things myself!

Sure it's just a truck

with a lot of ambition.

OK, that's enough.

Don't you get f*cking smart with me, you

Step aside!

Gentlemen, I understand

your concerns regarding the weather.

This isn't weather.

This is the whole desert

risen up into the air.

General Auchinleck

will move his Eighth Army

against Rommel's front line

in order to relieve Tobruk.

If Tobruk falls

Tobruk will not fall!

Cairo and the Suez Canal are next.

Malta and the Mediterranean

topple like dominoes.

It ends with Rommel rolling his Panzers

up the Mall towards Buckingham Palace.

His planes must not attack our troops.

The SAS have trained for months

to blow them up on the ground.

We will not be stood down.

Many lives depend on us.

It's God's work!

We have one shot at this.

Do you understand?

Your job is to deliver us and turn back!

We'll make our own way home.

The wind is 30 knots!

15 knots is considered unsafe.

w*r is f*cking unsafe!

OK, enough, enough.

Besides, Captain Stirling outranks you!

You will have to sleep

with your own conscience

if Auchinleck's advance is stopped

by air superiority

and Tobruk falls to the enemy.

Get your men boarded.

Good man.

Was that too much?

I think it went rather well.

Mad b*stard.

Letters for home in the bag.

Time is now!

Chalk Three ready?

Sir!

Off we pop.

Time, lads!

Chalk Two!

Chalk One!

Dear mother.

If I don't return,

and there is a body to burn

spread my ashes among the heather

and let the grouse laugh at my fate

because now it is I and my comrades

who are the grouse

flying onto the g*ns.

And below us, the enemy are even now

loading up and taking aim.

My dearest Mirren.

You know [ love you

and I know [I could make you so happy

that you wouldn't want to die

in case heaven wasn't as good.

Just say yes.

You'll marry me when I'm a proper captain

and I won't ask you to put it in the papers

because I might die tonight

and then people would say "ha, ha"

or they would say "poor dear, ”

and both are horrid.

And if all this is a lovely dream of mine,

well, it has been lovely dreaming it.

g*nf*re

The potential for greatness

of these men is huge.

I just hope these other officers

can see that.

Or they'll be getting added to the

long list of silver-spoon-fed idiots

This new outfit

I'm mixed up in is pretty curious.

During our brief period of training

the men have lived on rum and lime

- rum and tea, rum omelette

- My dear sister.

I'm having a very jolly time

with this new unit.

I sincerely hope I get a chance to show

the officers what I can do with a r*fle.

It's a fine crowd of lads, love

So you're not to worry.

You just get all the happiness

out of life that you can.

Anything that brings you happiness, kid.

MEN GROAN

— SOLDIER 4 : f*ck this.

g*nf*re

Hey!

/ have been reunited

with an old friend from the Ulster r*fles.

He's a Protestant, Paddy Mayne

though he drinks like a Catholic.

We're able to talk about

home to each other.

He's the same man I knew in Ireland

but lately, I am changed by him.

There's a fellow here

I knew in Ulster, Eion McGonigal.

He's from the other side,

but we don't talk religion.

If I sit up barking and howling at night,

as I sometimes do

he takes me for a walk

and throws a stick for me.

When I find myself become a devil

he reminds me that underneath, I am a poet.

LOUD RUMBLE

Sir! Pilot wants a word with you.

THUNDER RUMBLES

Nothing to worry about, lads.

Just a bit of fun, eh?

THUNDER CRASHES

We are two minutes from the drop.

But, Captain Stirling,

if you go out in this

it will be suicide.

Suicide, Captain Stirling!

Nothing more.

There's no shame in turning back

on a night like this.

Think of your men.

The gentlemen aboard have been

appraised of their circumstances

and have made their decisions.

Proceed with your descent.

The mad b*stards are gonna jump.

Are we ready, chaps?

Yes, sir!

It's a ten-mile stroll to the airstrips.

We'll b*mb their planes while they sleep

and rendezvous with Paddy

and Jock's boys for rum breakfast.

Yes?

- Yes!

Bloody hell, Mitcham, you're looking pale.

Are you tempted?

No, sir.

- No? Anh!

Right, listen up!

Good lad!

No dicking about!

Yes, sir!

Stand up!

Pack up!

Hook up!

Action station!

Check your lines!

WIND HOWLS

Go!

HEAVY BREATHING

Go! Go!

Go!

SOLDIER GRUNTS

SOLDIERS YELL AND GROAN

SOLDIER SCREAMS

WIND HOWLS

SOLDIER SCREAMS

- FLESHY THUD

SOLDIER GRUNTS

SOLDIER YELLS

WIND HOWLS

L Detachment!

L Detachment?

Almonds?

Yates?

Mitcham?

L Detachment?

Yates, Mitcham?

MITCHAM GRUNTS

Sir

Oh, sir

- Mitcham?

MITCHAM GROANS

I was

I was dragged over the cliff.

HE GROANS

Can you stand?

No, I cannot stand, sir.

I heard my spine snap.

Like a f*cking g*nsh*t.

HE CRIES

HE WAILS

Do you want some water?

I cannot stand this pain.

I'm sorry.

Mitcham, no!

—- GUNSHO

f*ck!

May the Lord have mercy on your soul.

And on mine.

Well, Father!

You said w*r could be unpleasant!

I found expl*sives and machine g*ns.

Then fortune is with us.

Let's move.

Move where, sir?

The airfields.

There are only eight of us, sir.

So it'll be harder for 'em

to see us from the air. Come on.

Form up.

- f*ck off.

What's wrong with your arm?

It's broken, sir.

Then

you are lucky

in the SAS, you don't have to salute.

HE GROANS

Oh

Now, before we proceed

we need to ascertain

where the airfields are.

To do that,

we need to ascertain where we are.

Riley, I believe you retained your compass.

All I can say for sure

is that the airfields are on the coast.

And that we are south of them.

Good.

So we head north.

There are only eight of us, sir.

If you make that observation again

there will only be seven of us.

I would head north, even if I were alone!

Right. We've got work to do!

Do you think

there is a far border town

somewhere at the desert's edge

the last of the lands we know?

g*nshots

- Some gaunt, eventual

limit of our light

—- GUNSHO

In which I'll find you waiting

and we'll go together hand-in-hand again

out there

into the wastes we know not.

—- GUNSHO

Into the night.

DISTANT GUNSHO

GUNSHO

DISTANT GUNSHO

Who?

Oh, thanks.

McGonigal, sir.

Oh.

OK.

OK.

He landed hard, got dragged.

- Yes, I understand.

Did you manage to locate

any of the weapons?

Found only one machine

g*n and six grenades.

No expl*sives or detonators.

They will all be buried in the sand

on account of the wind.

Aye, we'll use the grenades.

You what?

We will head north.

That f*cking way, up there

and we will reach the coast,

and we will find their airfields.

Is it? Yeah, well, Paddy, you won't destroy

a single f*cking thing

with what we've got, lad.

- Paddy.

We were gonna head south.

Sir, there were dark clouds.

It's going to rain.

We need to move to a higher ground

before we get washed away.

Right.

This was a f*ck up, yeah?

And a grand old f*ck up it was.

Now if we wipe ourselves out, it'll be

the only thing that we ever did, Paddy.

And they'll say all

that we ever did was f*ck up.

GHQ will laugh at us, yeah?

- So

your conclusion

is that we should stand down?

Is that it?

- Paddy, I didn't mean

Your conclusion, Corporal,

is that we should stand down?

Sir, I don't mean nothing by it.

- Is that it?

After what they've done to him?

It wasn't them that k*lled him.

It was the wind and the fall,

and our decision.

A decision we all made.

Sorry, sir.

Paddy, we need to be alive to go again.

Sir, shall we move out?

Sir?

Paddy, we can't leave without ya.

It's fine. Go.

I'll catch you up.

Go.

Right, gather your belongings.

Let's f*ck off.

THUNDER RUMBLES

THUNDER CRASHES

Come on, Cooper, get up from there!

Give me your hand.

Do we even know where we're going, sir?

Of course!

Jock?

There's water in the compass!

Also in the Lewes bombs.

They're drenched, completely useless.

The bombs in our packs

are called Lewes bombs

because Lewes is my name

and I f*cking invented them!

I will decide when they're useless.

They will not work.

- Get that men out the water!

Get him out, for God's sake!

Come on! Come on, man.

You're alright.

Unless you want us all to drown,

we must turn back!

You know, I once swam the Thames.

THUNDER CRACKS — Tower Bridge.

Just as Julius Caesar swam the Tiber.

- Breasted it!

- Jock.

Look

the water turned the desert

into quicksand.

We can't walk across quicksand,

let alone swim it.

I am not suggesting, Riley,

that I am Julius Caesar.

But like Caesar, my first attempt

at conquest has been thwarted.

Caesar withdrew and came back.

That is what we will do.

We will go, but we will come back!

Yes.

With certainty.

Come on, you heard the man! Move!

KETTLE WHISTLES

MEN SING IN THE DISTANCE

I can hear singing.

SINGING CONTINUES

SINGING ENDS

Now you sing the second verse in order

to reassure them that we are not Germans.

In Kabrit, we officers

resolved a desert procedure.

If you see a fire in the night,

you sing the first verse

and the people at the fire

sing the second verse

because if we were Germans,

we wouldn't know the words.

Any of you lads know the second verse?

MEN MUTTER — No.

No.

Well, if you don't sing it in the next

30 seconds,

then the procedure is to open fire.

If Paddy's out there,

it'll be five seconds.

God, how amusing this all is.

HE GROANS

Hall, hail, the g*ng's all here! ♪

What the hell do we care? ♪

What the hell do we care?

What the hell do we care? ♪

Hall, hail the g*ng's all here! ♪

What the hell do we care now? ♪

Whoopee!

Roll out the barrel ♪

We'll have a barrel of fun ♪

Roll out the barrel ♪

Come on.

We've got the Blues on the run ♪

Zing boom tararrel ♪

Sing us a song of good cheer ♪

Now it's time to roll the barrel ♪

For the g*ng's all here! ♪

You alright, sir?

Except the g*ng is not all here, is it?

No.

The g*ng is not all here.

A brew, lads.

How's everyone then?

FAINT CHATTER

There you go

There's some, uh

tea, Paddy.

Come on, Jim.

There we are.

Paddy.

"Out In The Middle East"

by George Formby

A fellow in the forces ♪

Was writing a letter ♪

Fromm somewhere in the East ♪

Talk of a blinking feast ♪

He said it's just like Blackpool Sands ♪

We play with hand grenades ♪

If we had known ♪

We would've brought along

our buckets and spades ♪

Out in the Middle East ♪

You can have a lot of fun ♪

Out in the Middle East ♪

By the Mediterranean ♪

HE WHISTLES

— Join the forces, they used to say ♪

And see the world, it sounds OK ♪

But you see nowt but sand all day ♪

Out in the Middle East ♪

And when you're hungry ♪

They never serve you up some hot pot ♪

You never get a gentle breeze

a-blowing round your whatnot ♪

On your head,

your hats like saucepan lids ♪

You take off your well-l-never-dids ♪

It gets a bit hot ♪

Looks like our passengers have arrived.

I thought there were 55 of them.

Don't worry.

You'll still be paid if

you drive home empty.

Hmm.

Long Range Desert Group!

Identify yourselves!

Good man.

We are L Detachment!

First Special Air Service Brigade!

What's left of us.

Maybe it's your attitude.

Maybe it's the way you walk.

But you are walking on a tightrope.

This is a big desert.

But there is no room in it for realists

or pragmatists

or believers in common sense.

Last night was the first uncertain step

on the long walk to glory.

There is no other narrative.

That's it, old boy, come on.

What happened?

We experienced some weather.

Ah. Yes.

You in charge here?

The desert's in charge here.

Maybe you've learned that, sir.

HE SIGHS

— INDISTINCT CHATTER

Hmm.

What news of Tobruk?

We've been away from radio.

Come on.

Get a nice bath.

Drink a beer, or two, or three

and then we'll talk about Tobruk.

Come on.

Another f*ck up?

Another f*ck up.

But anyway,

we run the rickshaws into town.

How many more can we expect?

Ah, well, the weather we experienced

was very bad, so

Yes.

Perhaps not many.

Right.

And, uh

how long do you want to wait?

Well, you know

forever.

Hmm.

No, I don't like waiting around.

I have a poker game in Cairo on Thursdays.

We have some cattle to round up!

Let's go, boys. Come on!

- On your feet!

- Come on!

On your feet.

—- Sir

Come on. Move it.

ENGINE REVS

I got a great big amount ♪

Saved up in my love account ♪

Da-da-da da-da-da ♪

Big leap, boys!

Hup!

SOLDIER CHEERS

SOLDIERS SHOU

Woo!

Woo-hoo!

Woo!

How the hell are you going to

find them in this vastness?

In the desert,

everything can be predicted.

You were dropped in the north quad,

number 12, then rain came.

Rising flood sends your boys

onto high ground

the platypus ridge which runs south

so they walk south until the ridge splits.

f*ck off back there!

Ha-ha!

Come on!

Then they reach the Bang Bang Oasis.

Which even the Brits can see

on account of the vegetation.

Come on!

Whoa!

Then they follow the

dried-up riverbed south

until they arrive

right about

now.

Right about there.

Looks like I will make my poker game.

I only count eight of our men.

Twenty-two survivors out of

fifty-five.

Not a shot fired except a damn good

soldier firing into his own brain.

Not a plane destroyed,

not a f*cking detonator detonated.

What will GHQ do?

Do about what?

Nothing happened. Our mission

was never authorised, so no one will know.

There are a few at GHQ that do know,

and they will laugh, but

mostly they will be too busy

losing the w*r to care.

And we will be stood down

when we get back to Cairo.

Yes.

If we go back.

They say the boys from

the Long Range Desert Group

can find a pencil

in a thousand square miles of desert

just so long as it casts a shadow.

They can find a downed pilot

in an area the size of England

in the middle of the night,

in a sandstorm.

So?

So I wonder

if they can find the SAS

a place of sanctuary?

HORN HONKS

Hello!

Woo!

JAZZ MUSIC PLAYS

What are you doing here?

GUNSHO

- MAN SHRIEKS

I come here to relax.

I thought it was time for us to update

each other on some recent events.

Your office was locked.

Recent events?

General De Gaulle needs to be kept informed

of British strategies in North Africa.

- French 75.

- Yes, madam.

Tell me, what is the General's

main concern at the moment?

f*ck you.

Where are they?

Do you mean where are "they"?

Or where is "he"?

Do you want to have dinner?

No.

Just tell me where they are.

No one is saying anything.

For Cairo, that is unusual.

HE CLEARS THROAT Well, truth

is, no one knows where they are.

Any survivors should have

reported back two weeks ago.

We've had no communications of any sort.

What happened to them?

Well, before you begin to imagine

some heroic combat

it's almost certain

that if they are all dead

they weren't k*lled

by the Germans or the Italians.

They were k*lled by the desert.

The wind, the sand, the thorns.

Oh, and by the reckless decision

taken by our friend

and his comrades because they couldn't

stand to lose face.

They decided to take off

and make a parachute drop

at night in the middle

of a f*cking sandstorm.

What is it about Stirling

that you dislike so much?

I invented the SAS.

And he had no right to destroy it

on its first mission.

And if it's not destroyed,

it's now a laughing stock

among the few people

who even know it exists.

In terms of percentage, I'm afraid

the chances of Stirling being still alive

are just this side of zero.

I thought you knew the rules

of engagement in time of w*r?

f*cking is fine.

Feeling is not.

Now then

this, my friends, is Jalo.

Literally, unquestionably, undeniably

the middle of f*cking nowhere.

If f*cking Nowhere had a capital city,

this would be it.

And this would be the main street

of f*cking Nowhere City.

And the Lord Mayor

would be f*cking no one

presiding over f*ck all

in a place where there was

no one around to give a f*ck.

Which is exactly what you asked for,

Captain Stirling, am I right?

Mm.

We could carry on driving

but I'd say this place is as good

as any other part of nowhere we might find.

How far to the German airfields?

Sirte is 350 miles northwest.

The Allied frontline?

If you drove east,

the first Allied position you'd come to

is the New Zealand reserve troop

eighty miles across open desert.

But the Kiwi fighting men have been

sent north, so the camp's empty.

If you need any help, there isn't any.

The New Zealand camp is empty, you say?

A few wounded, a few guards.

And a few empty trucks, one might imagine.

And maybe some g*ns they left behind.

Maybe some ammunition.

Would there be a piano?

A f*cking piano?

The capital city of f*cking Nowhere

will do us just fine

but first

we need to do a spot of shopping.

Ah

Come on, you dishy b*stard.

ENGINES STAR

Thieving b*stard.

It were never me.

If I'd known you were going to rob the

place, I wouldn't have brought you, sir.

Call me David. Not "sir".

DISCORDANT PIANO NOTES PLAY

Woo!

HORNS HONK

THEY CHEER

Phillip! Sentry duty.

On the tower. One hour.

Yes, sir.

And if you can, perhaps,

you might bury the expl*sive canisters

to keep them out of direct heat.

Yep. On you go.

Where can I put the piano?

Do you play the piano, Paddy?

No.

Eoin was trying to teach me.

I want to carry on.

Put it in the mess hall.

There isn't a mess hall.

So build one.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Seekings.

Yes, boss?

— Now, last night was rather a success

so we have something to celebrate.

What did you steal by way of drinks?

Forty-five gallons of New Zealand rum, sir.

Good boy. Right.

Well, by the time that we're unpacked,

it'll be c*ck hour.

And then when we've had our c*ck

and the sun has set

I think we should go for a bit of a jolly.

Over there!

Ammunitions will be signed in

by Lieutenant Fraser

unless he has a problem with that.

No, sir!

This way!

- Good.

Refuel your vehicles, Mr Sadler.

We go tonight.

Get the tents up!

Let's not be too creative.

Call me Mike.

Targets will be given on the coast.

Ten Lewes bombs to each man.

At the ready!

Have your ten-minute fuses

and your 30-minute fuses!

Do not use your bombs

until you can smell the Messerschmitt!

SAS motorised mission number one!

Move out, you f*cking virgins.

Come on, Bob.

- ENGINES REV

We are ten miles outside of Sirte airstrip

directly north.

I'm going to pick three men,

take them there, and do what damage I can.

Lewes, you will take

your men to Mersa Brega.

Your target is fuel

trucks and supply trucks.

Paddy, you will take your men

to Tamet airstrip.

Your target is Italian Caproni

fighter bombers and Messerschmitts.

Bill Fraser? Where are you?

I'm here.

- Come on.

I hear, during the f*ck up

that you repeatedly asked questions

of your commanding officer.

Well, we have decided,

in order to avoid further f*ck ups

that questions

are to be welcomed in the SAS.

You will pick four men

and travel to Agedabia.

If questions are welcome,

sir, I've got a question.

Yes?

Can me and the boys have some rum?

Oh, absolutely. Seekings, please.

- MEN CHEER

Yes, Seekings, come on. Right.

We rendezvous back here

tomorrow morning.

You and your drivers

wait here for our return.

Ah, with all due respect, sir,

I'm f*cking sick of being the taxi service.

I can read this desert

better than any man here.

Well, if it's action that you're after

go with Paddy Mayne.

We have a second chance.

Let's see what the stars have in store

for us, shall we?

Yeah!

Come on!

Load up!

ENGINES REV

It's empty.

They've all flown.

sh*t.

Prime fuses, ten minutes.

Prime fuses, ten minutes.

Prime fuses.

Go.

DISTANT CHATTER IN GERMAN

Riley.

Take one man, go to the right.

Almonds, take three men,

flank around from the rear.

Back here in eight minutes.

Hit as many trucks as you can.

For God's sake, don't be seen.

Go.

Sadler.

- Huh?

This is the famous Lewes b*mb.

Never heard of it.

That's because it's only famous amongst us.

Jock Lewes invented it.

He cooked us up a prototype.

Tonight, we're going to try them out.

You never used them before?

No, but Jock Lewes is very smart.

I'm sure we'll be fine.

Now, these are all being primed

and ready to go off in ten minutes, right?

From now?

— From now.

So we should f*cking get on with it, Paddy.

Ten minutes is plenty of time, boys.

Plenty of time for what?

DISTANT CHATTER IN GERMAN

DISTANT LAUGHTER

They're drunk, Paddy.

We can plant the bombs and be gone

before they know

Low hanging fruit.

Ripe apples.

Those drunks are pilots and engineers

when they sober up.

So to f*ck with conventions,

Geneva or otherwise.

This is our f*cking work, boys.

This is who we are.

To k*ll and be k*lled.

Any man too just and good and noble

for work like this can stay behind,

polish their b*ll*ts

make a nice wee necklace.

Myself, I am tranquil.

I never go to parties

to which I'm invited anyway.

Go, go, go, go, go.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

INDISTINCT CHATTER IN ITALIAN

DISTANT LAUGHTER AND CHATTER

GERMAN MUSIC PLAYS

— INDISTINCT CHATTER

Would you like a light?

Here you are.

No. English, actually.

HE LAUGHS

Inglese?

SI.

LIGHTER CLICKS —- Inglese.

Hello!

HE CHOKES

DISTANT CHATTER IN GERMAN

VEHICLE APPROACHES

HORN HONKS

SOLDIER SPEAKS GERMAN

f*ck.

—- GUNSHO

CHATTER IN GERMAN

CHATTER DIES DOWN

Good evening.

GERMAN MUSIC CONTINUES

SOLDIERS SHOU

- g*nf*re

SOLDIERS YELL

Come on!

In three minutes, the bombs go off,

including this truck!

Not ideal.

g*nf*re CONTINUES

SOLDIER WHIMPERS

Think they've had enough now, Paddy?

Paddy?

Paddy!

— g*nf*re

DISCORDANT PIANO NOTES PLAY

Two minutes to blow the planes, boys.

Move.

f*cking move!

g*nf*re

Jock! In one minute,

this truck's about to get a bit hot.

Not helpful.

Come on!

DISTANT SHOUTS

Where's Paddy?

Where on Earth is he?

HE WHISTLES

Paddy!

Paddy!

g*nf*re

I'm out!

Go!

expl*si*n

SOLDIER SCREAMS

The bombs work!

Move! Go, go!

Paddy!

expl*si*n

THEY CHEER

Let's get back to those Jeeps.

Paddy! Hurry up, Paddy!

expl*si*n

"New Rose"

by The Damned

I got a feeling inside of me ♪

Yes!

I got a new rose, I got it good ♪

Guess I knew that I always would ♪

I can't stop to mess around ♪

Woo!

- expl*si*n

I got a brand new rose in town ♪

See the sun, see the sun it shines ♪

I guess these things have got to be ♪

I got a new rose, I got it good ♪

MUSIC STOPS

DISTANT EXPLOSIONS

Yes, boys!

THEY CHUCKLE

That's Mersa Brega

and Agedabia blown to hell, sir.

Yes

Yes!

DISTANT EXPLOSIONS

THEY CHUCKLE Yes!

And that's Paddy Mayne at Tamet.

And here am I

in the dark and silence in Sirte.

Come on, it's not a competition, sir.

Of course it f*cking is.

Come on.

BEEPING ON HEADSE

Sir, report from Intelligence.

Ah, my dear.

At last I have something

to report that's actually true.

Actually f*cking true.

Intercepted radio communications

between the German and Italian

air force commands

says that the night before last,

48 fighter bombers and fighter aircraft

were destroyed while on the ground

at two separate airbases.

Destroyed by men

who appeared apparently from nowhere

and disappeared into the desert.

Also 17 fuel tankers, supply trucks,

ammunition crates

and expl*sives were destroyed

at Mersa Brega.

Apparently those few

who caught a glimpse of the attackers

said they wore no uniforms

and looked like wild savages.

So he's alive?

The important thing

is that my creation is alive.

I think the mystery of what happened

to L Detachment First SAS Brigade

may have seen solved, sir.

Well, I think that boy

may just have won his bet.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

OK then

INDISTINCT CHATTER

"FUR ELISE" PLAYS HALTINGLY ON PIANO

HE REPEATS THE MELODY

HIGH-PITCHED NOTE PLAYS

Ooh, I see.

I see.

Let the games begin.