Looking for Eric Page #2

crosswords, aren't you?

- Yeah, yeah, aye.

- Yeah.

Heavily laden postman.

- How many letters?

- A f***ing big bagful.

Yeah, yeah.

Stand in front of your imaginary mirror.

Yeah.

Stand in front of your imaginary mirror.

Think of someone who loves you

and imagine viewing yourself

through their eyes.

Yeah?

Don't f*** about. Come on.

It's easy this, isn't it?

Have you had to have met them?

Do you have to have met the person?

Well, you...

You must have met them if they love you.

- Come on.

- Is there any way we can prep

- to get into it?

- You can f***ing shut up for a start!

I'm here.

I'm in front of me mirror.

Stand in front of a f***ing

imaginary mirror. Right?

- I am.

- Think of someone who...

This might be hard for you.

Think of someone who loves you.

And imagine viewing yourself

through their eyes.

- It's f***ing dead easy.

- Smug loves him.

No, come on, do it now.

- No, come on.

- It's all right.

Then gently press

the thumb of each hand

against the biggest finger...

- Of your own hand or someone else's?

- Not like that, is it?

No, your hand.

- The same hand?

- It's like that.

Have to sit down for this bit.

Keep at it, keep at it,

keep at it. Right.

Now, with your eyes closed,

breathe in slowly.

What's best? In through the nose

and out through the mouth

or in through the mouth

and out through the nose?

Just breathe.

Breathe through

your arse if you like. Just breathe.

I get dizzy if I breathe too much.

Shut up. Keep your eyes closed,

breathe slowly and relax.

Allow yourself to see yourself

through the eyes of

someone who loves you,

totally loves you.

Someone who loves you

without any condition, right?

You are totally loved.

And you're breathing.

And you're holding your

finger and your thumb.

- Are we there?

- Yeah.

We're all there?

- Is this supposed to relax us?

- Yes.

This better not be some kind of

weirdo cult thing.

Oh, can't you shut up for a minute?

Weirdo cult thing?

- I'm not taking me pants off.

- Shut up!

F***ing concentrate! Will you?

Just calm down, just f***ing...

Well, it's him! You f***ing...

Like Derek Acorah.

I'm trying to talk

to the unconscious mind,

not the f***ing brain-dead.

Right. You're breathing, your fingers,

your thumbs together.

There's someone who likes you, you're

looking through their eyes at yourself.

Now I've took you over to

the Possibility Generator.

Now I want you to think of

someone who you like,

someone whose confidence and charisma

you wish to emulate. Right?

Okay.

Have you got

that person in your mind?

- Yes.

- Someone you think the world of.

Charisma, confidence

and you want to emulate them.

- But you don't have to know these ones?

- Oh, shut up.

I'm just checking.

- Smug, who have you thought of?

- Sammy Davis.

- Sammy Davis, Jr.

- 'Cause, like, for his confidence.

Smug is looking through

the eyes of Sammy Davis, Jr.

Well, he's looking through one of them.

Sammy Davis, Jr.

Spleen?

Fidel Castro.

Okay. Fidel Castro.

Jack?

- Nelson Mandela.

- Good choice.

Nice one. Nelson Mandela.

Travis?

Gandhi.

- Good one.

- Nice one. Eric?

Eric Cantona. King Eric.

- Of course.

- Best footballer ever lived.

- Good man. Good man.

- Good call, good call.

- I'll tell you what

- What about you, Meatballs?

Me?

Old Blue Eyes.

Mr Frank Sinatra.

I'm gonna emulate Frank Sinatra.

Hey, we could do a duet.

Right, what a room we've got here.

What a fantastic room. Sammy Davis, Jr,

Fidel Castro, Gandhi, Nelson Mandela,

Eric Cantona

and Old Blue Eyes himself,

Mr Frank Sinatra.

Eh? What a year that was.

You got hold of Winnie, now?

I need to see Winnie.

Winnie.

Here you are, come on,

finish off over here, Meatballs.

- Eric, what's this, mate?

- F***ing, my letters. Do you mind?

Have you not opened them?

Are they yours, Eric?

What is he looking at me letters for?

Can you put them down, please?

Come and sit down.

Let's carry on with this exercise.

Jack, what are you doing,

for f***'s sake?

Are they yours? Have you not

opened them? They might be bills.

Oh, for crying out bleeding loud.

- Eric.

- What's this, Eric?

Eric, what's going on, mate?

- Oh, for crying out loud.

- F***ing hell, man.

Spleen, get on the phone

and tell the lads.

We're gonna have to

deliver these tomorrow.

Flawed genius, eh?

Flawed postman.

How's your self care, Eric?

Have you ever thought about

killing yourself?

Who loves you, Eric?

Takes care of you?

You know what knocked me for six?

And I didn't f***ing see this coming.

"Have you ever done anything

that you're ashamed of?"

Well, have you?

F***ing hell.

What the f***?

- Is that really you?

- Yeah.

Say something in French then.

F***ing hell, it is you.

What the f***, man?

Wait till the f***ing lads

hear about this.

They still f***ing love ya.

It's Lily, n'est-ce pas?

I can't say her name.

I don't like to talk about her, Eric.

Say it.

I can't.

You have to face this. Right?

- I can't.

- Yes, you can.

Lily. F***.

It's always f***ing Lily.

- Open the trunk.

- No, I can't.

- You what?

- Without danger,

we cannot get beyond danger.

Come on.

God.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

God.

Here y'are, look at that.

"Manchester duo

win '50s dance competition. "

19th of July, 1979.

Thirty years ago.

Used to love dancing. Rock 'n' roll.

You know, putting all the gear on

and doing the hair.

That's a picture from the night

we won the contest.

- A great night.

- Ah, yes.

What a pair of blue suede shoes.

Yeah, blue suede shoes.

Hey, they got sent from America.

Cost me a week's wages they did.

I wonder what happened to them.

You know,

sometimes the beautiful memories...

...are the most toughest of them all.

C'est la vie.

Yeah.

They're the hardest to deal with.

C'est la vie.

Yeah.

It was a daft idea, really.

The compere, he pulled out these

tickets at random from these boxes,

one for the girls and one for the boys.

And you met for the first time

on the dance floor.

Anyway, he goes "Number 19.

Eric, where are ya?"

...Eric Bishop.

I got up on the dance floor,

like, bit nervous.

"And for the ladies,"

Number one. Lily Devine.

Then I turned round, like,

she just sort of floated out,

absolutely f***ing gorgeous.

She looked a little bit shy, like.

But you could sense

there was a bit of mischief in there.

What a dancer. I couldn't believe it.

She left me standing.

I was like, "Oh, what's going on here?"

But the second one, second number was,

It's Late by Ricky Nelson.

I was ready for her then.

And the band start playing.

And I'll tell you what,

I was chucking her about and flipping

her and tossing her everywhere.

She just kept coming back

faster than ever.

It was like she f***ing trusted me,

you know what I mean?

I don't know.

I don't know if it was, like,

the dancing or whatever

that just brought us closer together,

but...

It was just like

one of those magic nights

that you know

you're never gonna have again.

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