Susan, Tim's been in a coma for eight months.
- There's little sign of any brain activity. - Please, can we try?
This is his favourite East End thug - it might just do something.
OK, but l don't hold out much hope.
(Tape ) 'l'm ever so sorry to say this, but if you don't wake up, l'll kill yer.
'You understand, you sick cabbage?
'What's the matter - those tubes suck out your tongue, eh?
'Are you listening? 'Don't you look serene lying there?'
'You won't look serene at the bottom of the Thames with an axe in yer face, will yer?'
Oh!
- Susan? - Tim?
'l know you're thinking, ''lf l die, l can get away from him.''
- 'Well, let me tell you something, son...' - Tim, it's your favourite East End thug.
- '...you know what's behind the light?' - East End thug.
'lt's not God, it's me.'
'And l'm gonna kick your poncey soul all the way back down the tunnel,
'till you choke on your own fucked-up ribs.'
'Now, wake the fuck up!'