— I didn't ask for your help.
— Friends don't wait to be asked.
I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me
I can't be without, you're my perfect little punching bag!
And I need you, I'm sorry!
Please, please don't leave me.
Baby please don't leave me,
No, don't leave me,
Please don't leave me no no no.
You say I don't need you
but it's always gonna come right back,
It's gonna come right back to this.
Please, don't leave me.
— You... you did?
— Yes.
— Well, then why'd you do it?
— Because you asked me to.
— Thomas Shelby was a tunneller. His demand is rather amusing. He has asked that the Colonial Office grant him an Empire export licence. And specifically a licence covering India, Malay Peninsula, Canada and Russia. He plans to transport certain manufactured goods from Birmingham to the Poplar Docks.
— And you plan to agree to this demand?
— Dear God, Major Campbell... We will be asking this man to carry out an assassination on behalf of the Crown, once more risking his life. These demands by comparison are slight and easily met with a few quiet words over lunch with the appropriate ministers.
— Sir, with the greatest respect, Thomas Shelby is a murdering, cut-throat, mongrel, gangster.
— And yet, the tunnels were dug beneath our feet to silence the guns pointed at our heads.
Please… please… dont let me forget how to reed and rite…