Utopia, Season 2

Phillip:
Besides, there are three thousand five hundred species of mosquito. They've been around for a hundred million years. You think you can just yank them out of existence? I mean, you do realize half the birds in the Arctic tundra will starve to death. I mean, you have actually thought of that, or are you fucking idiots?

Scientist:
And how would you cure malaria?

Phillip:
Cure malaria? Why do you want to cure malaria? Malaria is doing a great job, leave malaria alone.

Scientist:
Young man, you are drunk.

Phillip:
Yes, I am. And in the morning we'll both still be cunts.

Milner:
What's wrong with curing malaria? Well wouldn't you want to make the world a better place?

Phillip:
Let me explain something to you. The sun throws a certain amount of energy onto this planet. We turn it into food, clothing, shelter, etc. It supports an amount of us, and it took 30,000 years for that amount to become one billion. Then we found a way to use ancient sunlight, sunlight trapped in oil and coal. We started to live off that. What happened? In just 130 years, our population doubled. The next billion took thirty years. The fourth billion has taken just 14. So here's the question. What do you think is going to happen when that oil and coal runs out in, say, a hundred years? When there's ten billion living on a planet that can support only one?

Milner:
I think we're going to tear each other apart.

Phillip:
At last, someone with an ounce of fucking brain. Malaria? The only disease that needs curing is us.

Phillip:
There are certain genetic traits that are undeniably advantageous. Now I believe I've isolated a group of people who are genetically stronger...

The Assistant:
A group? Do you mean a race?

Phillip:
"Race" is not a term that scientists recognize, but yes, if you must, then race.

The Assistant:
That's the Third fucking Reich.

Phillip:
It's the opposite of that. I'm not talking about murder, I'm talking about allowing some to continue. A world without race. It's a race without racial fucking genocide!

Mr Omida:
Torture is communication. So what I will do is I will inflict torture upon your person. Then I'll go inflict the same torture on Jessica. It will be exactly the same. Not diminished. What you feel, she will feel. Exactly. You will imagine her screams, her tears, her begging. I will go back and forth this way for a period of several hours, and... if that doesn't work, then we'll start all over again. With you in front of her. Now, propriety requires me to ask you if you would simply like to give us Janus now?

Mr Omida:
Always with my first torture I like to start with something brutal and traditional. I'm simply going to pull out the fingernails on your right hand.

Ian:
Do you think it's actually possible to die of boredom? Because I was just going to staple my own tongue. That's how bored I am. I was going to staple my own fucking tongue in the hope that pain would give me some reprieve from the tedium of IT.

Joe:
Do you want to talk about it, buddy?

Ian:
No. No.

Joe:
Because self-harm is a key indicator...

Ian:
It's not self-harm, okay, Joe? Doing this job is self-harm.

Lee:
I know it's hard but... I brush my teeth obsessively. Like the things we did are caught in me. In my mouth or... what about you?

Arby:
No, I just brush the normal amount.

Milner:
What do you see when you see me?

Wilson:
I see... someone who's killed thousands. Who murders, tortures, executes innocent children without hesitation. That's what I see.

Milner:
And do you think I wanted that? Do you think I wanted to be Mr. Rabbit? You're capable of more than you know, Wilson, believe me.

Donaldson:
I've got this.

Becky:
Where did you get that?

Tony Bradley:
Christian, is that you?

Becky:
What have you got a gun for?

Donaldson:
It's for shooting people.

Tony Bradley:
Are you two together?

Becky:
Oh, fuck no.

Becky:
What the fuck are you doing here?

Ian:
I--I've come to find you.

Becky:
Why?

Ian:
What do you mean, why?

Becky:
I mean, why have you come to find me?

Ian:
Why do you think?

Becky:
I don't know. That's why I'm fucking asking you.

Ian:
Jesus, this is not at all going how I imagined it would.

Ian:
I missed you. I fucking missed you. I used to check CCTV feeds. Missing persons. I'd walk out the office int he middle of a meeting just in case you happened to be passing. Every second I missed you. And what do you say when you see me? "What the fuck do you want?"

Becky:
Right, well, when you put it like that...

Becky:
I can't explain that. All right--all right, I can explain it. I slept with him. Once. I just found out I had Deel's, he knew all about it, I was on a very low ebb. It--it will never happen again. And just thinking about it makes me want a vagina transplant, so I'm just fucking telling you, all right?

Lee:
Oh, look. It's that one-eyed freak who shot me in my lung.

Wilson:
Yeah, well, you put my eye out.

Lee:
Just doing my job. Besides, you got a nice new pirate-y look out of it. All I got was partial paralysis.

Lee:
What I like about you, Wilson is the amount of stuff you know, all of it fucking useless.

Wilson:
Knowledge is never useless.

Lee:
Wasn't much use when I got my spoon out, was it? Or when I killed your dad.

Lee:
It's not that you can't take life. I reckon you could take billions. But it would have to be necessary. Killing me just isn't necessary.

Becky:
You called Milner.

Ian:
It was a mistake.

Becky:
Was it? Was it, Ian? Are you that fucking stupid? Or... are you actually quite fucking smart.

Ian:
Your insults are getting increasingly cryptic, what the hell are you saying?

Michael:
Do you mind if we talk about you breaking in with a knife, and not my eggs?

Michael:
I am not with them.

Jessica:
Michael, don't worry. If I thought you were with them, you'd be dead.

Marius:
You racist bastard. You think all Romis from Romania. Is not. Romi many places. Bulgaria, Poland, Spain. Romani different language, like... Welsh to English. You speaking fucking Welsh?

Becky:
Yeah, I do, actually.

Marius:
Doesn't matter.

Becky:
But...

Marius:
You still racist.

Marius:
What's going on?

Grant:
Becky found a way to speak to Anton. Through twatface.

Marius:
Is twatface me?

Becky:
Ian, what are you doing?

Ian:
I'm getting Grant back.

Becky:
What? Are you trying to find a weapon? Is that it?

Ian:
Right.

Becky:
Well, that's a curtain pole, Ian. You've got a curtain pole.

Milner:
Are you asking me, "Am I a killer", Michael? Yes, I am. I didn't want to be. It's just the way it turned out. Like Churchill or Lincoln.

Michael:
Or Hitler.

Jessica:
Look, find out where they have them. Take a mobile, the GPS.

Michael:
They search me. They fucking search me. How do I get a phone in there?

Jessica:
Shove it up your arse. No, I'm serious. You have to shove it up your arse. It's the only way. Don't use a big one.

Jessica:
If he moves, shoot him.

Arby:
We're family. There's no need for that.

Jessica:
Aim for his chest.

Becky:
You get out that way and you avoid all the security. I'll be waiting and if no one kills us, then I think we should be fine.

Becky:
Oh, and don't start calling them "The Three," okay? It's not Lord of the Fucking Rings and you're not a hobbit or a fucking space goblin, right?

Wilson:
How could you do that? How could you shoot at people you love?

Anton:
World's full of love. Billions of people loving billions of others. All that love will turn to dust when our resources die. I've seen what people are capable of when they feel they're losing everything. Look around.

Jessica:
He's going to release the virus now.

Leah:
It would appear so, dear.

Jessica:
Call me "dear" again and I'll cut your face off.

Michael:
Wilson, trust me, listen. Don't--don't do this. Please. This is not you.

Wilson:
No. I don't think I am me. Not any more.

Jessica:
Are you scared, Becky?

Becky:
Yeah. Sort of terrified. But I know it's what I want.

Jessica:
And you think this is right? For him, I mean? Have you ever looked into the eyes of someone you love who's dying? It's not something that leaves you.