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Second part of his third BTN speech, before V breaks into his home
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September the 18th. There is one case that continues to give me hope. He exhibits none of the immune system pathologies the other subjects developed. I've discovered cellular anomalies in his blood that I've been unable to categorise. The mutations seem to have triggered the abnormal development of basic kinaesthesia and reflexes. The subject said he could no longer remember who he was or where he was from. Whoever he was, he is now the key to our dream and the hope that all of this will not have been in vain.
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So I read that the former United States is so desperate for medical supplies that they have allegedly sent several containers filled with wheat and tobacco. A gesture, they said, of goodwill. You want to know what I think? Well, you're listening to my show, so I will assume you do. I think it's high time we let the colonies know what we really think of them. I think it's payback time for a little tea party they threw for us a few hundred years ago. I say we go down to those docks tonight and dump that crap where everything from the Ulcered Sphincter of Arse-erica belongs. Who's with me? Who's bloody with me? Did you like that? USA; Ulcered Sphincter of Arse-erica. I mean, what else can you say? Here was a country that had everything, absolutely everything, and now, 20 years later, is what? The world's biggest leper colony. Why? Godlessness. Let me say that again: Godlessness. It wasn't the war they started. It wasn't the plague they created. It was judgement. No-one escapes their past. No-one escapes judgement. You think He's not up there? You think He's not watching over this country? How else can you explain it? He tested us, but we came through. We did what we had to do. Islington, Enfield. I was there. I saw it all. Immigrants, Muslims, homosexuals, terrorists, disease-ridden degenerates. They had to go! Strength through unity, unity through faith! I'm a God-fearing Englishman and I am god-damn proud of it!
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The only part of his second BTN speech ever seen or heard.
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There will be no negotiation, Roger. When I arrive in the morning, the Paddy will be gone. I'm looking at the tape right now, and he has no idea how to light me. My nose looks like Big ****ing Ben! Listen to me, you bleeding sod. England prevails because I say it does! And so does every lazy **** on this show, and that includes you! Find another DOP, or find yourself another job!
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Third and final part of his third BTN speech
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This so-called "V" and his accomplice, Evey Hammond, neo-demagogues, spouting their message of hate. A delusional and aberrant voice, delivering a terrorist's ultimatum. An ultimatum that was met with swift and surgically precise justice. And the moral of this story, ladies and gentlemen, is: "GOOD GUYS WIN, BAD GUYS LOSE, AND AS ALWAYS, ENGLAND PREVAILS!"
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V's Introduction To Evey
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V's Speech To England
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V's story to Inspector Finch, disguised as William Rookwood
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V: VoilĂ ! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! (carves the letter V in sign with his sword) The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. (Laughs wheezily) Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
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V: Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquillity of repetition, the totality of television. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, whereupon important events of the past, usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well, certainly, there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again, truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. They were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic, you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night, I sought to end that silence. Last night, I destroyed the Old Bailey to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words; they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest that you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgotten.
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V: Our story begins, as these stories often do, with a young, up-and-coming politician. He's a deeply religious man and a member of the Conservative Party. He's completely single-minded and has no regard for the political process. The more power he attains, the more obvious his zealotry and the more aggressive his supporters become. Eventually, his party launches a special project in the name of "national security". At first, it's believed to be a search for biological weapons and is pursued without regard to its cost. However, the true goal of this project is power, complete and total hegemonic domination. The project, however, ends violently; but the efforts of those involved are not in vain, for a new ability to wage war is born from the blood of one of the victims. Imagine a virus, the most terrifying virus you can, and then imagine that you, and you alone, have the cure. But if your ultimate goal is power, how best to use such a weapon? It's at this point in our story that along comes a spider. He is a man seemingly without a conscience, for whom the ends always justify the means, and it is he who suggests that their target should not be an enemy of the country but rather the country itself. Three targets are chosen to maximise the effect of the attack: a school, a tube station, and a water treatment plant. Several hundred die within the first few weeks. Fueled by the media, fear and panic spread quickly, fracturing and dividing the country until, at last, the true goal comes into view. Before the St Mary's crisis, no-one would have predicted the results of the election that year. No-one. And then, not long after the election, lo and behold, a miracle. Some believe it was the work of God himself, but it was a pharmaceutical company controlled by certain party members that made them all obscenely rich. A year later, several extremists are tried, found guilty, and executed, while a memorial is built to canonise their victims. But the end result, the true genius of the plan, was the fear. Fear became the ultimate tool of this government, and through it, our politician was ultimately appointed to the newly-created position of high chancellor. The rest, as they say, is history.