MONDO EXTRAS

Overlay Chris Eccleston looking right at you, through the camera, and fade to Bad Cop. Eyes shining silver. "Stop recording," he says. This is where the game kicks in. The techie gives him the tape and he puts out his cigarette -- near Jude's face on a surveillance screen, the angle of filming is very precise about that -- and he hops in a car with a briefcase, which he taps lovingly, and he leaves the station.

Good Cop Chadwick being interviewed on TV: "We're keeping him safe, and he can't get out" are the two main things. Johnny Tyler smiles, hard, and lies back, turning off the TV in his awful little flat. Night night, he says. Sleep tight.

Simon Hottie Cop drops his keys and picks them up. It's a tiny motif, but you can't overlook it. I'm sure I've already missed other occurrences. Drops keys, picks them up, goes to meet Frank in his little room in the compound. "It's a raid!" he says cheekily, and Frank offers him some pot. "Keep it, you need it. Got you some more." The world belongs to the Devil, and Frank belongs to the world. I don't like his looks and I do like the looks of Johnny Tyler; I can congratulate myself on loving Johnny Tyler because it proves what a lovely big man I am, but I've never liked Frank. He's creepy and there's no point to him; there's never a point to Carpenter Joe. The passion of the viewer is to love everyone, in time, out of pity or simple harmonics. It only hurts more: "I was going to get you a t-shirt," muses Simon, still cheeky. "Selling them outside. 'Frank Shooting Blanks.' T-shirts! Kids wearing 'em! Kids! It's like...public humiliation. Don't know how you can take it!" Who could? He's the last generation of manhood, you can't question his semen, for Pete's sake. He belongs to the world, didn't father his child, can't father any child, lost his wife to madness and suicide. For Pete's sake you can't question him as a man on top of it. The serpent was subtle, and all. "I've had worse," Frank says, off on his litany. "Hadda wife go mad ten years into marriage. Stuck with Steve while she went off on her wanderings." Simon smiles: "How was she mad?" But you already know. "Got religion." Simon laughs hysterically, Frank offers a smile but it fades. He tokes the joint. "You raised Steve as your own," Simon pushes, still so friendly and so beautiful, "...and he's not yours. You were just a babysitter. If my child did that to me...she's only six, my daughter. Beautiful little thing. Fran, you should see her -- the way she looks at you sometimes. Beautiful." Simon's eyes go shiny. Frank begins to go insane, quietly.