Yeah

Right, tools down, aprons off, let's get the fuck out of here

All together now

Who's with Me?

What? None of you?

So what was all that about? Dickheads for life and all that?

Well, the thing is, Joris, to be completely honest with you, mate

I kinda need the job, like we all do, mate, we gotta pay rent, we gotta pay bills

Oh, forget about money, we'll be living the dream, we all will

Trish, you wanna be an opera singer, right?

Me? Yeah, I do actually, I've been practising and everything

Go on, give us a note

Beautiful, and Barry, what about your dream?

My dream? What do you mean, my dream?

Thought you were going to be the next JK Rowling

I just do writing at the weekend, man

Like, I'm not even that good

Well, it seems to me your mutiny plans are coming unhinged, Joris

Take a look around

Tell me what you see?

Uh, carpet tiles, wallpaper paste, there's half price lawn mowers

Fear, Joris, in the eyes of every man, every woman

Don't you see? They are all my servants

Slaves to the tool-Me-Once paycheck that they so desperately need

To fund their pathetic existence

To pay for the phones they mindlessly gawp at

The Netflix that they sit in front of like zombies each night to ease the pain

Without me, they are nothing