CLIVE: Let him go? Who's in charge here? This guy? This piss-drinking motherfucker?

BRYONY: So, would you like to help me scalp him? Trepan him, maybe. Let's see what bad spirits come out, shall we?

WARREN PUTS IN THE TAPE. IMMEDIATELY AN EAR-BLEEDING METAL TRACK PLAYS.

REBECCA: Mr Schill, I'm not sure you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation in which you find yourself. The scope of your failure is wider than you think. CLIVE: Oh right. Do elaborate.

CLIVE: Tomorrow you can fly your helicopter over Sugarplum Mountain and watch the sun go down over one of the most beautiful cities in the world. All courtesy of Kontinue. REBECCA: It's Sugarloaf Mountain. Enjoy your paintings.

THE RAIN CONTINUES WHILE NO ONE SPEAKS. GORD: Would you like me to play the next recording? WARREN: No. No, I can wait.

WARREN: You have to concede that what this is, is two men sat in the rain in a 1998 Vauxhall Astra. GORDON: I get it, ok, I get it. You need more. I'm doing this as gradually as I can because if I showed you the whole jigsaw your head would pop off your skinny fucking shoulders.

CLIVE: Rebecca, you seem stressed. REBECCA: The world's on fire, Clive, everyone is stressed. CLIVE: I mean... that's just objectively not true. Sophia, you stressed? SOPHIA: Too blessed to be stressed, boss!

SOPHIA: The first detonation will be in the cargo hold. You should all have time to reach a life raft. The rest will be on the deck. For all to see. CLIVE: What are you holding- CAPTAIN: It's a trigger- SOPHIA: Kalinikta, boss!

WARREN: Why are you smiling? GORDON: I don't know, I smile when things get awkward.

WARREN: So, you're saying they're people, Yogi and Pooh and Brown Bear and whoever. GORDON: Well if they were bears, they wouldn't be very good code names. WARREN: I guess not

WARREN: Why did you make it sound like him? AUBREY: I thought a familiar face would help you acclimatise. GORD: I don't have a face. AUBREY: It's a figure of speech, Gord!

HESTER: I brought the tortoise down. Thought she could visit Gordon. He is her dad after all.

GORDON: Ok. My go. Jennifer Hunt. Department of Organic Teleportation. WARREN: Oh shut up. GORDON: What, World's First Cryonically Preserved Human Being has a problem with someone trying to create a teleporter.

CLIVE: Shut the fuck up and stay where you are you little dungeons and dragons little fucker, I told you, I told you to stay out of this and leave him alone and here you are.

PAMELA: Clive are you high right now? For real? CLIVE: Despite your valiant attempts to drag me back to the desert of the real, yes of course I am.

WARREN: Don't get a tortoise. GORDON: Why not? WARREN: They never love you back.

CLIVE: You know the paywall bit of your website, when the text of your articles fades into nothingness? That is going to be the literal reality of your career, Harvey. You're going to disappear like that photo of Marty McFuckingFly.

HESTER: Don't do that. I know you're trying to find a way to make yourself responsible for everything that's ever happened. The world is bigger than that, Aubrey.

AUBREY: We really need to move the piano. One day a storm is goin- HESTER FINISHES HER SENTENCE. HESTER: A storm's going to blow this rickety old farmhouse down, yes. Why do you take your naps in here then? And why am I making you coffee in here?

AUBREY: That is what a homemade flamethrower looks like. Next time you move, it's going in your eyeballs.

CLIVE: Not my first mob. REBECCA: No. Less machine guns than on the Aloha, as I recall. CLIVE: Yeah. Crazy memories. MALCOLM: I wish I could've been there. CLIVE: Do you?

BILL: Are we all done with the murdering now?

WARREN: Right. How long was I asleep for? GORDON: 16 hours. WARREN: What? Did I go back in the pod? GORDON: Oh no, no… No, you've just been asleep. Like asleep asleep. WARREN: Oh. Weird.

GORDON: Ok… Clive Schill asked me about you and said you were going through a lot, and, well I thought- WARREN: Oh, fuck that guy. Through his trousers.

WARREN: How much archive talk is there? GORD: This section is not... succinct. WARREN: It's pretty dry. GORD: It does not get wet.

WARREN: I don't want to hear any more of this, okay? If this is just some sick joke you people play on the new guy then fuck you, alright? If it’s real, then fuck you, why would you show that to me?

CLIVE: Oi… You… you one of these Maria Victoria pricks? PILOT: Only Latin I know is carpe the fucking diem, sir.

WARREN: You have to concede that what this is, is two men sat in the rain in a 1998 Vauxhall Astra. GORDON: I get it, ok, I get it. You need more. I'm doing this as gradually as I can because if I showed you the whole jigsaw your head would pop off your skinny fucking shoulders.

WARREN: Oh, yeah, yeah. Sure. You haven't been waiting for me to wake up this whole time, have you? GORDON: Well, all anyone does here is wait for you to wake up.,

CLIVE'S PHONE VIBRATES AGAIN. PAMELA: You ever gonna answer that? CLIVE: I can argue with my wife any time I like. Today is a good day.

GORDON: Some of them, they don’t even want to wait till they die. That’s much more grizzly and complicated. They’d like to be frozen right now while they’re fit and healthy ready to see the future, but they're not interested in the cost. And I don't mean money, Warren.

AUBREY: So, a Mazda Bongo Friendee is a real thing, they really named it that. I recognise the model actually, my old neighbours opposite had one, even the same colour, swamp water green with a raincloud go-faster stripe. It's virtually camouflaged out here. It's perfect.

AUBREY: Honestly, they look like a brick shithouse and a giant haystack had babies. And then those babies went to the gym.

PAMELA: What is that on the top? CLIVE: Top of what? PAMELA: The cane. Is that meant to be an ice cube?

CLIVE: Hey, I don't make the rules. I just threaten people until they follow them.

WARREN: I mean… This is what you were talking about before wasn't it. Look how far we've come when you could've just been hit on the head by a plate and your whole story's over. GORDON: Humm… Good point.

GORDON: You want to go to Red Valley? WARREN: You want to go to Red Valley, Gordon Porlock. And you've been waiting for someone to give you the shove. That's why you picked me.

BRYONY: Don't you remember? Of course not. Because you knew exactly what you were walking into at Red Valley. And you saw an even greater way to give up any responsibility for your own life, give it to us, give it to Overhead. You couldn't sign those papers fast enough.

GORDON: Warren, while you've been having an apparently nice relaxing time dipping in and out of your cryopod I've been up to my nipples in these archives. Even by my own bloodthirsty standards it is shocking how many people have died in this company over the decades.

PAMELA: Why are you smiling like that? CLIVE: Just thinking about the future. PAMELA: I'll drink to that.

GRACE TAKES WARREN'S HAND AND SHAKES IT HARD, AND CLAPS ANOTHER HAND ON WARREN'S SHOULDER. GRACE: You look great. WARREN: So do you. How have you got better looking?

KAREN: Babe, where the fuck are you? You know I worry. You must have like 10 missed calls from me. We don't do this, alright?

CLIVE: Those are some good placards. 'Go Hyperfuck Yourself'. 'Overhead Killed The World'. Wow. That's a bit much. Now, that one just says 'Kontinue', I don't get it. PAMELA: Oh, let me see. It’s Kontinue, but they've swapped the 'o' for a 'u'.

CLIVE: I'm sorry, right. I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm insufferable, okay. My therapist says so. I'm lonely. I miss my little girl. I even miss my wife. Things are a mess.

WARREN: Well you could set the scene just by talking. And then play me the tape. GORDON: No but this is the atmosphere. I'm trying to show you tha - WARREN: So, you're literally playing this as, like, a backing track, while you make this speech, setting your scene.

MALCOLM: I… I don't want to see him! AUBREY: Then don't look at him! WARREN: Er… Nice to meet you. MALCOLM: Go to hell, fucko!

GORDON: It sounds ridiculous when I tell you like this, but every day is full of these micro aggressions and he's being put through this insane physical ordeal over and over again—he's been in and out of hypersleep, what, like seven times now?

CLIVE: Pam, there's only two of us! PAMELA: It's a drink for every ship they're gonna build for us! CLIVE: Oh, it's a fleet now, is it? PAMELA: Why the hell not?

AUBREY: I'm only saying. If you're looking for wisdom, you've come to the wrong minivan. I'm just another idiot in the snow.