CLIVE: Wankerchief.

CLIVE: I wasn't kidding man, I'll stab you in the fucking eye with this fork. Now that's a really elaborate suicide but I reckon I can do it.

WARREN: It’s going to be very difficult for you to go serious on me because this level is called...? GORDON: The Death Egg Zone. WARREN: The fucking Death Egg! What were they thinking?!

WARREN: Gordon Porlock, secret warlock!

AUBREY: Maybe you're listening to this Bryony, so if you're wondering where those units are, suck my balls, that's where they are.

PAMELA: I have to hand it to you, you really are the golden boy. CLIVE: Damn right.

BRYONY: You're an archivist, Gordon. It is your singular vocation. Archive Red Valley for me.

PAMELA: I’d like to ask her if it was worth it. CLIVE: What? PAMELA: Aubrey Wood. Look what she’s created. She wants to hurt people like you and me, fine. But what about all of them? How does doing this make anything better for them?

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

CLIVE: She's not your wife. She's the lead of this operation. We couldn't let you back out in the world without a handler and it was her or me. I think we're all glad it wasn't me. She's watching all of this right now actually. Just through that mirror behind me.

GORDON: It's... just nice to talk to someone.

REBECCA: It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Schill. CLIVE: You too Rebecca. I look forward to being served by you in five years at the Overhead all night pharmacy or whatever is left of this company when you're finished with it. That's your future. But hey, at least you'll have got there first.

WARREN: Do you ignore everyone in the future or just me? AUBREY: Are you okay to walk? WARREN: I'll walk up Ballbag if you start answering me.

WARREN: I'm sorry I said those things about you when we were in the tunnel. If it wasn't for you and your interest in all of this, I'd be here on my own. And I don't know how I'd manage that.

HIS PHONE VIBRATES. IN ANNOYANCE HE TAKES THE CALL. CLIVE: Oh Christ… Babe, I told you, I am working. Can we please discuss this la- IT'S NOT CLIVE'S WIFE.

CLIVE: I don't care if you have a drinking problem, can you just make it less visible? PAMELA: You have a visible drinking problem. CLIVE: I'm allowed to have a visible drinking problem. I don't have to vitrify anyone's corporeal remains.

AS GORDON'S STORY RETURNS TO OSCAR, HE BECOMES A LITTLE AWKWARD, NOT QUITE SO SURE HOW TO ARTICULATE THEIR RELATIONSHIP.

AUBREY: They must've been desperate. No offence. WARREN: None taken, spirit guide. AUBREY: I'm not your spirit guide, Warren.

AUBREY: I just told you the research we were both part of nearly half a century ago played a pivotal role in the dissolution of civilised society as we know it, and you want to talk about the Pus Crank choir? WARREN: The Pus Crank choir!

WARREN: Literally none of that made sense. I'm contemplating having a panic attack, wh... what do you think?

WARREN: Well, actually that was just one method of poor compensation from my father to validate rampant domestic abuse in the family home, but StarWing was pretty good, I guess.

GORDON: You're talking about the Red Valley Seed Vault. WARREN: Sorry, the what?

WARREN: Gordon Porlock, secret warlock!

GORDON: (CLOSE) Look Warren. If they're sending the butter-wouldn't-melt 'uh, um, uh' new boy looking for Red Valley, it'll be for a reason. Not a happy touchy-feely smiley reason, a creepy, suspicious, nasty one. Trust me.

WARREN: Do you ignore everyone in the future or just me? AUBREY: Are you okay to walk? WARREN: I'll walk up Ballbag if you start answering me.

CLIVE: You've got to let me talk to you about the Aloha Eternity. REBECCA: The what? FRANCESCA: Rebecca, don't get him started-

GORDON: Storm Marriott tramples Ben Day to death within 24 hours of arriving at his stable. WARREN: Oh. GORDON: After chewing his arm off when he reportedly refused to give her a second sugar cube.

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.

GORDON: The truth is I have to make a choice. To be a friend to you or not. I'm going to keep listening to your tapes. But I'm not going to find out what you did.

GORDON: Did you listen to it? WARREN: Hello? GORDON: Did you listen to the tape? WARREN: Gordon. GORDON: No, I'm the other guy you met yesterday who put his balls on the line sending recordings of highly sensitive material to your house.,

WARREN: Um. This is just a bunch of adverts for tortoises. GORDON: (CLOSE) I know. I'm buying a tortoise.

GORDON: But Warren can't let her win the fight, so he never refuses her, like he never wants to show weakness. As if he's almost daring Bryony to go further. It's crazy.

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

REBECCA: We need to help the poor man! CLIVE: You wanted to strangle him 30 seconds ago. Drink your drink.

CLIVE: Merry Christmas bitch, see you soon, love to Warren, kisses. Lol, what a dick. Oh hello darling, sorry Daddy was just making a phone call to one of his special frien—

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: I do think you have a soul you know. In as much as I think anyone has one. It's an abstract concept.

PAMELA: Jesus, the 90s called, they want their soft drugs back.

GORDON: ...Look I'm sorry. I'm blabbering. I haven't had anyone to talk to about any of this. WARREN: It's alright, it's alright. Gordon, are you okay?

PAMELA: We're gonna build ships together! Great big ships! CLIVE: That's... that's... Pretty Woman! PAMELA: Pretty fucking Woman!

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

GORDON: It wasn't much of an interview. Clive was very mean to Warren and he threatened to kill me a couple of times.

BRYONY: You're not the answer. You're only the seed. And no one will miss Warren Godby.

GORDON: I want you to take this seriously, okay? WARREN: I do. I am. GORDON: I need you to.

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

GORDON: We got out of the tunnel. We'd had a falling out. I'm just trying to look out for him, Aubrey, he was coughing up blood. I should have never taken him down there, it was just because I was too bloody frightened to do it on my own...

AUBREY: Bit of a soft ending.

WARREN: Right now, I’m… I'm this version of Warren Godby, whoever and whenever he is. Next time, I might be different. Or the time after that, or the time after that.

CLIVE: Sorry guys... are you... are you trying to fuck me? REBECCA: I beg your pardon?

GORDON: This is a story about preservation. Not of an object or specimen. Not a document or record. This story is about the preservation of all that we are. And what must be left behind in the process. This is The Cryonic Void.