- Alan!
Management.
- Alan Bates.
- Oh, thugs in suits.
- You know why we're here, Alan.
- And you know you're a day early.
- [Customer] Oy, there's a queue here.
- I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but this post office is now closed.
- Er, not yet, it isn't.
That's £2.39, Tom, please.
- Alan.
- Cheers, Alan.
- Come on.
Let us in please, yeah?
- If you'd like to make an appointment for after my so-called contract ends, I shall inspect my diary for a window.
- We have a right of entry.
- I'm the sub-postmaster, so I'm locked in, and everyone else is locked out.
So, if you want to see my accounts, (computer clattering) you'll have to come back tomorrow.
- Right.
Come on.
We're gonna need some help?
- Right.
- I'm calling the police.
- Sorry about that, Tom.
- Police, I'm calling from the Post Office.
(police siren) - [Alan] They're not calling me a thief.
They wouldn't dare.
They say money's somehow gone missing from this branch, which it hasn't.
And I have to pay it back, which I won't.
So I say, prove it.
Prove that I'm wrong and you're right.
Show me the figures.
But they can't or won't do that.
- Alan.
- So now they want to close me down to shut me up.
- That's ridiculous.
- Because they don't want everyone knowing what I know.
- Which is?
- That the fancy new computer system, that they've spent an arm and a leg on, is faulty.
- No one else has ever reported any problems with Horizon.
No one.
- I don't believe you.
- So no actual crime has been committed here today?
- Well, Post Office Limited is stealing my livelihood, my shop, my, my, my job, my home, my life savings, my good name.
- Civil matter.
Right I'll be getting back to the day job.
Might wanna come back tomorrow, sir.
- How exactly do you sleep at night?
- Same time tomorrow?
(ominous music)
