Naked Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Naked script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Mike Leigh movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Naked. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Naked Script


   

                   

Oh, go on! Oh!



 

                   





 

                   





 

                   

What... What... What are you doing?



 

                   





 

                   

You're hurting me!



 

                   





 

                   

I'm gonna tell my Bernard of you!



 

                   

You're fucking dead.!



  

                   

Oi.! Come back here, you.!



  

                   

Ronnie!



  

                   

Get off that couch

and come out here!



  

                   

Ronnie!



  

                   

Oh, shit! Sorry.

I didn't see you there.



  

                   

Do you live here?



  

                   

Yeah, I do, unfortunately.



  

                   

Do you know Louise Clancy?



  

                   

Yeah. Are you a friend of hers?



  

                   

Know where she is?



  

                   

She's at work.



  

                   

- What time does she get back?

- Don't know. About  :   or something.



  

                   

Fuckin' hell.



  

                   





  

                   

Do you want to come in

for a cup of tea?



  

                   

Is that all right with you, love?

It's just, you know, cold.



  

                   

Listen, have you got anything

for a headache?



  

                   

Ah. Yeah, we have, as it happens.



  

                   

Like a monkey wrench or something.



  

                   

- What's all this about?

- Oh, yeah.



  

                   

- That's Sandra, that is.

- Hello, Sandra.



  

                   

This is her place.

She's a fucking nurse.



  

                   

That's her idea of interior design.



  

                   

Oh, yeah, it's a skeleton.



  

                   

And this is

her cocktail cabinet and all.



  

                   

There you go.

That should do it.



  

                   

No, it's too big.



  

                   

- Do you want a cup of tea?

- Yeah.



  

                   

So, are you Louise's boyfriend?



  

                   

- No.

- Oh, right.



  

                   

- What, you're just, like, a mate?

- Primate.



  

                   

- You must be the missing link then.

- Yeah, that's me.



  

                   

- You're not gonna tell me your name.

- No.



  

                   

- I'm not gonna tell you mine neither.

- All right. We'll be strangers.



  

                   

- I see your boomerang came back then, love.

- It's not my fuckin'boomerang.



  

                   

What about the old diminishing

pachyderm formation there?



  

                   

No, that's all Sandra's collection.

She's in Zimbabwe at the moment.



  

                   

And fuck knows what she's

gonna bring back from there.



  

                   

Polagra or hepatitis "B" or something.



  

                   

She's with her boyfriend.



  

                   

So, how is Louise?



  

                   

I don't know.

I don't know her as well as you.



  

                   

- Do you get on with her?

- Well, been out a couple of times.



  

                   

- Does she like you?

- I don't know.



  

                   

You better ask her.



  

                   

Most people don't.



  

                   

Do you find that she's

at all jealous of you?



  

                   

No.



  

                   

So... So, would you describe yourself

as a happy little person?



  

                   

Yeah. I'm the life and soul.



  

                   





  

                   

Have you ever thought, right...

I mean, you don't know...



  

                   

but you might already have had the happiest

moment in your whole fucking life...



  

                   

and all you've got to look forward to

is sickness and purgatory?



  

                   

Oh, shit.



  

                   

Well, I just live from day to day myself.



  

                   

I tend to skip a day

now and again. You know what I mean?



  

                   

I used to be a werewolf,

but I'm all right now!



  

                   

Fuckin' hell.

I bet they're happy, eh?



  

                   

All they got to do is sit round,

howling at the moon.



  

                   

It's better than standing on the cheesy

fucking thing. Know what I mean?



  

                   

I mean, tossing all these satellites

and shuttles out into the cosmos.



  

                   

What do they think they're gonna find

up there that they can't find down here?



  

                   

They think if they piss high enough,

they're gonna come across the monkey

with the beard and the crap ideas?



  

                   

And it's, like,

"Oh! There you are, captain!



  

                   

Are you busy? Because I've got

a few fundamental questions for you."



  

                   

- Are you with me?

- Yeah.



  

                   

'Cause let's face it, right?

What are rockets?



  

                   

I mean,

they're just big, metal pricks.



  

                   

You know, I mean, the bastards

aren't satisfied with fucking the Earth up.



  

                   

- They've gotta fuck space and all.

- Tell me something, love.



  

                   

Are you aware of the effect...



  

                   

you have on the average

mammalian, Mancunian...



  

                   

X-Y'ly chromosome, slavering...



  

                   

lusty male member of the species?



  

                   

Uh... yeah.



  

                   

I thought so.



  

                   

- Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?

- No.



  

                   

- Do you think women like being raped?

- You talk a lot, don't you?



  

                   

Do you likeJapanese food?



  

                   

Look, I've told you, I'm not interested.

All right?



  

                   

- Could I have that a touch harder, please?

- Yes.



  

                   





  

                   

All right?

Enjoying yourself, are you?



  

                   

I'm having a great time, actually.



  

                   

- Bloody hell.

- Ah, friendly.



  

                   

What are you doing here?

You look like shit.



  

                   

Just trying to blend in

with the surroundings.



  

                   





  

                   

* Halitosis, halitosis, halitosis *



   

                   





   

                   

- I can't believe you're here.

- I'm not here.



   

                   

I tell you what.

It's a crackin' place you got, love.



   

                   

- Good. I'm glad you like it.

- No, I was being sarcastic.



   

                   

Why didn't you tell me you were coming?

I would have met you off the train.



   

                   

- I didn't come on the fucking train.

- Off the bus then.



   

                   

- I didn't come on the bus either.

- So how did you get here then?



   

                   

Well, basically, there was this little dot,

right, and the dot went bang...



   

                   

and the bang expanded...

energy formed into matter.



   

                   

Matter cooled, matter lived,

the amoeba to fish, the fish to fowl...



   

                   

the fowl to froggy, the froggy to mammal,

the mammal to monkey, the monkey to man.



   

                   

Amo, amas, amat. Quid pro quo.

Memento mori. Ad infinitum.



   

                   

Sprinkle on a little bit of grated cheese

and leave under the grill till doomsday.



   

                   

- I see you haven't changed.

- He's a fuckin' genius, this geezer.



   

                   

I take it you met

my wicky-wacky friend Sophie.



   

                   

Oh, no. Actually, we haven't been

formally introduced. Have we, love?



   

                   

- No.

- No, we've been sat here

in embarrassing silence all afternoon.



   

                   

- So, how are you?

- Peachy creamy.



   

                   





   

                   

Are you really?

I'm very pleased.



   

                   

So, how's, um...

Work?



   

                   

- It's all right.

- "It's all right."

- It's all right.



   

                   

- Is it everything you hoped it would be?

- Yeah.



   

                   

What did you hope it would be?



   

                   





   

                   

I'm so... I'm sorry.

Did you get that?



   

                   

It's everything she hoped it would be,

but she doesn't fucking know

what she hoped it would be.



   

                   

Oh, and by the way,

thank you for this.



   

                   

I mean, are you taking a piss or what?



   

                   

"So, Johnny, my address is"...



   

                   





   

                   

I'm touched.



   

                   

- Why have you come?

- Oh, can you tell from there?



   

                   

Do you want a cup of tea?



   

                   

I'd love a cup of tea! You're fucking

generous, you Cockneys, aren't ya?



   

                   

- Sophie?

- Oh, yeah. Ta.



   

                   

- How's your mum?

- Fine. How's yours? Still pulling pints?



   

                   

She's dead.

She's still a good fuck though.



   

                   

I mean,

the rates are a bit extortionate...



   

                   

but I do get a discount

what with being the son and everything.



   

                   

Apparently, you shouldn't stick anything up

your cunt that you can't put in your mouth.



   

                   

Give us that mug.



   

                   

Can I try your coat on, Johnny?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

So what you been up to?

Have you seen anybody?



   

                   

Have you seen anybody?



   

                   

Have you spoken to anybody

from Manchester?



   

                   

Yeah, I phoned June

a couple of times.



   

                   

And was June interested

in what you had to say?



   

                   

Fuckin' hell. I've seen more life

in an open grave.



   

                   

- Come on!

- What?

- What!



   

                   

- You don't seem very pleased to see me.

- I am pleased to see ya!



   

                   

You too good for us? Now you've got

yourself a posh job in the big "shitty."



   

                   

- Me and her are on the fucking dole.

- Right.



   

                   

- You're a career girl. You happy with that?

- Yeah.

- Are you sure?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- I'm delighted!



   

                   

Do you want some of this, Johnny?



   

                   

Fuckin' hell, love.

What are you trying to do to me?



   

                   

Right. Well, I'm going up to my room.

Do you want to see it, Johnny?



   

                   

Is it worth the bother?

Is there anything worth seeing?



   

                   

Why don't you come and find out?

It's not very far.



   

                   





   

                   

I'm sorry about this.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Oh, move, move.



   

                   





   

                   

- Where are you?

- I'm in here.



   

                   

Oh, it's de-lovely.



   

                   

I see you've got a ceiling at the top

with a floor on the lower level...



   

                   

and a wall at either side.



   

                   

And only a single bed.

Sad, really.



   

                   

- You've got wonderful breasts.

- Don't you mean "tits"?



   

                   

Are they both the same size,

or is one bigger than the other?



   

                   

I don't know.

Do you want to weigh them?



   

                   

- Is that a proposition?

- No, it's a threat.



   

                   

Are you rich?



   

                   

Life is for enjoying.



   

                   

What about a family?

Have you got any brothers or sisters?



   

                   

I try not to remember.



   

                   

You're sexually frustrated, aren't you?



   

                   

- What's funny?

- Are you a feminist?



   

                   

- No.

- Do you like fucking?



   

                   

- Do you like wanking?

- Not on my own, no.



   

                   

That's a very ornithological

mutilation you've got there, love.



   

                   

That's my tribal initiation.



   

                   

Is it really?



   

                   





   

                   

- That was fuckin' athletic, that was.

- I think I ruptured my chakras.



   

                   

Is there an instruction manual for this garb?



   

                   

No. It's an intelligence test.



   

                   

Now, what is this?

A granny, a sheepshank...



   

                   

or the infamous round turn

and two half hitches...



   

                   

as mentioned

in the Book of Ezekiel?



   

                   

- Are you finished?

- Hardly fuckin' begun.



   

                   

It's just I think I'm gonna get into difficulties

when I reach the hippie shit up here.



   

                   

- You know what I mean?

- Yeah. Well, you've tried the stairs.



   

                   

I think we should take

the escalator.



   

                   

Simple really.



   

                   

- So is this.

- Thanks for the mammaries.



   

                   

Could you ask her

to order me a taxi, please?



   

                   

- This is terribly disappointing.

- You don't like rejection, do you, Jeremy?



   

                   

- Could we have a taxi, please?

- No problem... sir.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Whee!



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

It's really cozy, this.



   

                   

Will you let me come again, Jerry?



   

                   

You're dead handsome, you know.



   

                   

What work do you do?



   

                   

I'm a dancer, actually.



   

                   

Don't you wanna know me name?



   

                   

It's Giselle.



   

                   

Are you married?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Kiss me.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Oh, don't. It's yucky!



   

                   

Get it off!



   

                   





   

                   

Are you glad I came?



   

                   

What are you doing?

Get off me!



   

                   

You're hurting me!



   

                   

- Have you ever thought of committing suicide?

- No.



   

                   

I'm going to commit suicide

on my   th birthday...



   

                   

if I'm still around.



   

                   

- Why?

- I don't want to be old.



   

                   

Do you?



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Fuck.



   

                   





   

                   

Oh, God.



   

                   

- Oh. Have a fag.

- Yeah, thanks. I will.



   

                   

What are you reading?



   

                   

Will you stop fucking about and fidgeting

in my peripherals? I'm trying to concentrate.



   

                   

She's got a very little waist,

Sophie, ain't she?



   

                   

She's got little tits and all.



   

                   

- Are you not cold?

- I'm reading about the butterfly effect.



   

                   

What's the butterfly effect?



   

                   

Every time a butterfly

flaps its wings in Tokyo...



   

                   

this old granny in Salford

gets a bilious attack.



   

                   

What happens if a butterfly

flaps its wings in Salford?



   

                   

- That's not the point.

- Oh, is it not?



   

                   

- What are you doing in London, Johnny?

- What are you doing in London?



   

                   

- I've told you what I'm doing in London.

- You've told me nothing.



   

                   

- The last time I saw you, I told you...

- Fuckin' hell! Were you born irritatin'?



   

                   

What have you

come downstairs for anyway?



   

                   

I fell asleep with the window open.

I was cold. I came down.



   

                   

I had to pee. I've made some tea.

I'm here. All right?



   

                   

- What's that, the greatest story ever told?

- I live here.



   

                   

So what happened?

Were you bored in Manchester?



   

                   

Was I bored? No, I wasn't fuckin' bored.

I'm never bored.



   

                   

That's the trouble with everybody.

You're all so bored.



   

                   

You've had nature explained to you,

and you're bored with it.



   

                   

You've had the living body explained to you,

and you're bored with it.



   

                   

You've had the universe explained to you,

and you're bored with it.



   

                   

So now you just want cheap thrills

and plenty of'em...



   

                   

and it don't matter how tawdry

or vacuous they are as long as it's new...



   

                   

as long as it's new, as long as it flashes

and fucking bleeps in    different colors.



   

                   

Well, whatever else you can say about me,

I'm not fuckin'bored.



   

                   

Yeah. All right.



   

                   

So how's it all going for you?



   

                   

It's a bit boring, actually.



   

                   

You're not enjoying yourself?



   

                   

Have you made many friends?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Have you got a goblet or something,

because me heart's bleedin'.



   

                   

When are you going back

to Manchester?



   

                   

- When are you going back to Manchester?

- I'm not going back.



   

                   

- Why not?

- You know why not.



   

                   

Do I?



   

                   

I thought you said

you never wanted to see me again.



   

                   

I don't ever want to see you again.

So will you fuck off back upstairs?



   

                   

- Why are you such a bastard, Johnny?

- Monkey see, monkey do.



   

                   

What does that mean?



   

                   

- Oh, this fucking cough.

- A butterfly must have flapped its wings.



   

                   





   

                   

So have you got to

get up for work now, yeah?



   

                   

No. It's too early.



   

                   

I'm going back to bed.



   

                   





   

                   

So is she, uh, a Buddhist or something,

this nurse?



   

                   

No, she's a Catholic.



   

                   

What's she doing with

the old fat chap in the house then?



   

                   

I don't know.

I think she fancies him or something.



   

                   

Louise is a Catholic.

Did you know that?



   

                   

- She's not, is she?

- Oh, fuckin' hell!



   

                   





   

                   

You know what frightens me

about the human body?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Well, it's like the, uh, most sophisticated

mechanism in the entire universe...



   

                   

and yet it's so fuckin' quiet, isn't it?



   

                   

- Know what I mean?

- Don't know. Mine makes enough noise.



   

                   

It's like this, uh, wet, pink factory.



   

                   

What the fuck are they making in there?

I mean, what's the product?



   

                   

You never see no delivery trucks

coming or going, do you?



   

                   

- I could have been a doctor.

- Do you wanna examine me?



   

                   

- You don't believe me, do you?

- I believe everything you say.



   

                   

- I've got "A" level psychology.

- You haven't.



   

                   

"Resolve is never stronger than in the morning

after the night it was never weaker."



   

                   

- What do you think of that?

- It's a load of bollocks.



   

                   





   

                   

I thought of that.



   

                   

- Do you not agree with it?

- Don't know.



   

                   

Well, that's 'cause you weren't

fuckin' listening, were you?



   

                   

What's this?

A test or something?



   

                   

Don't. Stop it.



   

                   

Just pack it in. Stop it!



   

                   

Keep buggering about.



   

                   

- Let me get a watch, Johnny.

- Will you keep still?



   

                   

- Look, you can get me a watch.

- Don't want a fucking watch.



   

                   

I really like you, Johnny.



   

                   

You don't know me.



   

                   

I think I do.



   

                   

- But you don't fucking know me!

- Oh, shit!



   

                   

Fucking hell!



   

                   

- You still like me?

- I love you.



   

                   

- What?

- I'm in love with you, Johnny.



   

                   

Don't laugh. I'm serious.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

I understand you, Johnny. I do.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Johnny! No! No!



   

                   

Johnny!



   

                   

Ta-ra, Mr. Halpern.



   

                   





   

                   

What's the matter?

What's going on?



   

                   

Fucked if I know.



   

                   





   

                   

I'm too old for all this.



   

                   

Why don't we go out?

Go out for a drink or somethin'?



   

                   

Why don't you go out?

Go for a drink or somethin'.



   

                   

'Cause I want to go out with you.



   

                   

Is this good?



   

                   

What are you doing?

Where are you going?



   

                   

- I'm cold.

- Johnny, I just...



   

                   

Get off of me.



   

                   

How... Do you ever get the feeling

that you're being followed?



   

                   

Look, will you just leave me alone,

give me a bit of room or something?



   

                   

Fucking hell!



   

                   

Johnny! Johnny!



   

                   

What's all that about?

What are you playin' at?



   

                   

- Where are you going, Johnny?

- Off my head.



   

                   

- I'm coming with you.

- No, you're not.

- I want to come with you!



   

                   

Don't you fucking come with me!



   

                   

- Are you comin' back?

- What the fuck for?



   

                   





   

                   

Maggie!



   

                   





   

                   

Maggie.!



   

                   

You all right there, chief?



   

                   

- Have you lost somebody?

- Yeah?



   

                   

- Are you looking for somebody?

- Fuck off, cunt!



   

                   

- Got a fag?

- Yes, thanks.



   

                   

- Yeah, I got one.

- Giz one.



   

                   

- Please.

- What?



   

                   

- Say please.

- Just fucking giz one. Come on, mister.



   

                   

You've got a lovely way about you.

Has anybody ever told you that?



   

                   

"Thank you." It's all right.



   

                   

Maggie!



   

                   

- She's gone, mate.

- Eh?



   

                   

Those days are over.



   

                   

Have you seen a lassie

wandering about here?



   

                   

- What?

- A lassie... black hair, blue jeans.



   

                   

I saw a little border collie

padding off down there towards the fire.



   

                   

Yeah?



   

                   

- Have you lost your bird or something?

- Aye. Have you seen her?



   

                   

Black hair.



   

                   

- No.

- Fuckin' hell!



   

                   

Stupid fuckin' cunt's

gone and got lost.



   

                   

- Are you from Scotland?

- Uh?



   

                   

- Are you Scots?

- Aye.



   

                   

- What's it like up there?

- Fucking shite. I'll kick her fanny, man.



   

                   

- Do you dream in Scotch?

- Uh?



   

                   

Like, dream about sporran-clad,

caber-tossing haggis...



   

                   

galloping over

porridge-covered glens?



   

                   

Fucking shite!



   

                   

I sent off for one of those little Linguaphone

packages..."Talk Shite in a Fortnight."



   

                   

It's all going very well. I haven't quite got

the hang of the transitive verbs yet.



   

                   

Will you fuckin' shut it?



   

                   





   

                   

- So, what you doin' down here?

- Eh?



   

                   

Why are you here in London,

old Bodhi Dharma?



   

                   

Put my old man in hospital.



   

                   

- Your dad?

- Aye.



   

                   

- How did you do that then?

- Cracked him on the nut with a poker.



   

                   

- What for?

- He was fuckin' asking for it!



   

                   

- Maggie!

- So, what, is he in a bad way?



   

                   

Fuckin' right. He's half dead.



   

                   

- What does your mum think about it?

- She's off her fuckin' nut.



   

                   

- So, you're, like, on the run, yeah?

- Aye.



   

                   

- Yeah, me too.

- Yeah? The cops after you? Yeah?



   

                   

- Can you tell me something, jock?

- What?



   

                   

- What's all that about?

- Eh?



   

                   

That... the old Highland fling there.

You know you're doing that?



   

                   

- What?

- That... you know, "and for my next tick"...



   

                   

That. Look, it... it just happened again.

I'm not imagining it.



   

                   

- Fuck off, eh?

- You do that in the sack,

with the old tick, spit..."Maggie!"



   

                   

- Must be a great fucking shag.

- Are you taking a piss?



   

                   

- You're fucking giving it away, aren't ya?

- Fucking come on, cunt!



   

                   

Cut your fucking head open!

Eh?



   

                   

- What's it like being you?

- Eh?



   

                   

- A bit hectic?

- Fuck off, poof!



   

                   

Do you believe

in self-fulfilling prophecy?



   

                   

Eh?



   

                   

You know, like Nostradamus.



   

                   

He was, like,

this   th-century astrologer...



   

                   

and he wrote in one of his quatrains that

this goon called Hister would invade Poland.



   

                   

So Hitler reads that and thinks,

"Hister, Hitler.



   

                   

Must mean me,"

and invades Poland.



   

                   

So when the guy prophesied that the world

would end in      which he did...



   

                   

does that therefore mean

that we're fulfilling the prophecy...



   

                   

by precipitating the Apocalypse?



   

                   

- You with me?

- What?



   

                   

You think the world will end in     ?



   

                   





   

                   

Listen, mate,

what do you think of this?



   

                   

Why don't you go have a little wander around

and go look for the wee lassie, and I'll wait here?



   

                   

- If she turns up,

I'll keep her here until you get back.

- Aye?



   

                   

- How does that grab ya?

- You gonna be here, eh?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- Right. If she gets back, right...



   

                   

tell her to fucking wait here

till I get back.



   

                   

If she wanders off, knock her out.

You slap her good for me, right?



   

                   

- Yeah, I'll tie her up.

- Aye.



   

                   

- You gonna be here, eh?

- Yeah. Oh, listen. What's her name again?



   

                   

- Maggie.

- Oh, yeah.



   

                   

Be back in a minute, right?



   

                   





   

                   

Excuse me, love.



   

                   

Hello!



   

                   

- Are you Maggie?

- Piss off!



   

                   

- Oh, you're Maggie.

- What?



   

                   

- Is your name Maggie?

- How'd you ken that?



   

                   

It's just a hunch.

Are you looking for the, uh, petulant dwarf?



   

                   

- Eh?

- Sprechen Sie Deutsches?



   

                   

- Archie!

- Yeah, th... that's the fella.



   

                   

I was told to wait here for you.

You're Maggie, he's Archie, I'm nobody.



   

                   

- He's gone off looking for you, love.

- What, you've seen him?



   

                   

Look, would you just come

and sit over here now?



   

                   

Fuck off, you dirty cunt.



   

                   

I know I've not had a bath for a good few seasons,

but there's no need to hurt my feelings.



   

                   

He'll be back in a minute.



   

                   

- What, he's been here?

- He's been here, he's been there.



   

                   

He's been all over

the fuckin' shop.



   

                   

- Did he have the chips with him?

- He had a huge one on his shoulder.



   

                   

- Fuckin' wee radge!

- Come on. No need to knock the young lad.



   

                   

He's a wonderful exponent

of the old Socratic debate.



   

                   





   

                   

Listen, love,

I've got this great idea.



   

                   

Why don't you have a little wander round,

see if you can find the wee lad?



   

                   

I'll wait here. And if he turns up,

I'll keep him here till you get back.



   

                   

I'm fucking starvin'.



   

                   

- Do you wanna get something to eat?

- He's got all the money, hasn't he?



   

                   

- Who, laughing boy?

- Aye.



   

                   

- Well, I've got a few bob on me.

- What if he comes back and we're no here?



   

                   

- We'll leave him a note.

- He won't be able to read it.



   

                   

Well, we'll get him on his bleeper.

Come on.



   

                   

Can you feel all those vibrations?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Just stand still a minute, love.

Try and feel it through your feet.



   

                   

Do you not get all those tremblings and mumblings

coming up through your bones?



   

                   

Not really, no.



   

                   

Do you not get, like, a sense of, like,

a whole other world underneath all this?



   

                   

You know, like, the guts of London?



   

                   

What with all the tube trains

and everything, the city's viscera...



   

                   

and the subterranean fucking fistulas

and conduits and colons...



   

                   

and bunkers and dungeons

and tombs and all that.



   

                   

What, about hell

and the sewers, like?



   

                   

You know that wherever you are in London,

you're only    feet away from a rat.



   

                   

- Aye.

- Does that freak you out?

- No.



   

                   

- Do you believe in hell?

- Aye.



   

                   

- So do you believe in the devil?

- Aye.



   

                   

- What do you think he looks like?

- He looks like that, doesn't he?



   

                   

What, a little nudist

homonculus with a pink quiff?



   

                   

- No, he looks like a snake.

- Let's have a look at that.



   

                   

- It's Archie, isn't it?

- It's my good luck charm.



   

                   

- Has it brought you much?

- Has it fuck.



   

                   

- Are you superstitious?

- No.



   

                   

What do you wear

a good luck charm for then?



   

                   

Are we gonna get

something to eat or what?



   

                   

Have you ever seen a dead body?



   

                   

Only me own.



   

                   

Where was you thinking

of sleeping tonight?



   

                   

- Don't know.

- Where did you kip down last night?



   

                   

- In the park.

- Was that not cold?



   

                   

Aye.



   

                   

Where are you thinking

of sleeping, like?



   

                   

Wherever I drop.



   

                   

- How old are you, love?

- Twenty-three.



   

                   

- Do your mum and dad know you're down here?

- No.



   

                   

- Will they not be worried about you?

- No.



   

                   

How old are you, like?



   

                   

- How old do you think I am?

- About   .



   

                   

- I'm   .

- Oh, get the fuck.



   

                   

- Where the fuck have you been?

- Where the fuck have you been?



   

                   

- Eh?

- I've been waitin' on you!



   

                   

- What the fuck you been doin' now?

- You've got all the money!



   

                   

- I've been fucking looking all over for ya!

- Well, I was with him.



   

                   

- What do you... Fuck!

- I was fucking with him!



   

                   

- Daft cunt.

- Fuckin' ask him!



   

                   

- Fuck off!

- Fuckin' ask him!



   

                   

- Fuckin' daft bitch! Eh?

- Where's my chips?



   

                   

That was fuckin' years ago.



   

                   

- Fucking here are your fucking chips!

- Don't come near me!



   

                   

Fucking cunt!



   

                   

Did he hurt you?



   

                   

What do you mean?



   

                   

You know,

when you were fucking.



   

                   

Why? Did he hurt you?



   

                   

Do you think you were made

for each other?



   

                   

- Well, we went out for a year.

- Ayear?



   

                   

Fucking hell, give me a year!



   

                   

Do you ever feel like topping yourself?



   

                   

- Oh, God. I wish I was at home.

- Glad I'm not.



   

                   

Yeah, well, I don't mean with me mum and dad.

I just mean in Manchester.



   

                   

- You reckon it's different there, do you?

- Yeah. People talked to you.



   

                   

- Well, I'm talking to you.

- Yeah, but you talk a pile of shit.



   

                   

Doesn't matter where you are anyway.

Might as well be in Zimbabwe with Sandra.



   

                   

Are you gonna do any washing up

before she gets back?



   

                   

Yeah, of course I am.

When is she getting back?



   

                   

Sunday.



   

                   

Well, it's four fucking days away, innit?



   

                   

"Thou shalt not consent unto him,

nor harken unto him...



   

                   

"neither shall thou pity him,

neither shall thou stare...



   

                   

"neither shall thou conceal him,

but thou shalt surely kill him...



   

                   

with thy hand"...



   

                   





   

                   

Lost me place now.



   

                   

"And thou shalt stone him

with stones till he die...



   

                   

"because he has sought to force thee away

from the Lord, thy God, and"...



   

                   

Fuckin' hell.

Why hast thou forsaken me?



   

                   

Bastard.



   

                   

Hmm.



   

                   





   

                   

Is that it now then?

Are you through with the regulation pacing?



   

                   

Are you all set

to deploy the fatuous sarcasm?



   

                   

Well, I've beaten you to it.



   

                   

Would you like a mint?



   

                   

What's this, a new policy?

Ply the culprit with menthol?



   

                   

Extra strong.



   

                   

I get through

four packets of these a night.



   

                   

You want to be careful, don't you?

I don't want your poxy mint.



   

                   

Oh. Waste not, want not.



   

                   

And other clichés.



   

                   

Ah, but a cliché is full of truth,

otherwise it wouldn't be a cliché.



   

                   

Which is in itself a cliché.



   

                   

- Tell me, have you read the book of Hosea?

- What now?



   

                   

- "For they are the children of whores."

- There's no need to get personal, mate.



   

                   

What, will you stop fucking about?

If you're gonna stick the boot in, get on with it.



   

                   

Have you got nowhere to go then?



   

                   

I've got an infinite number of fucking places to go.

The problem is where you stay.



   

                   

- You with me?

- Indeed. Yes.



   

                   

So, listen, is there much security

in this job?



   

                   

Too much.



   

                   

What is it that goes on in this particular

postmodernist gas chamber?



   

                   

Nothing. It's empty.



   

                   

So what is it that you're guarding?



   

                   

Space.



   

                   

You guarding space?



   

                   

That's stupid, isn't it, because someone could

break in there and steal all the fucking space...



   

                   

and you wouldn't know

it had gone, would you?



   

                   

Good point.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

All right, pally, I appreciate you've got a job

to do, and it's, "Move on! Move on! Move on!"



   

                   

But it's fucking freezing out there,

and I was a Caesarean.



   

                   

- Come on, quick.

- What?



   

                   

Come in.



   

                   

- You serious?

- Through that door, smartish.



   

                   





   

                   

It's a funny smell in here.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

Quite a waste of space,

all this, isn't it?



   

                   

Could sleep a thousand

flea-bitten tramps in here.



   

                   

What's all that?



   

                   

They say it's a fucking jungle out there.

Have you seen it in here?



   

                   

I mean, where's the bloody monkeys?



   

                   

Look, dad! Will you just back off?



   

                   

- What is it you're after?

- You must be invisible.



   

                   

- What?

- I must be seen.



   

                   

Follow me.



   

                   





   

                   

Sit there.



   

                   

- Am I allowed to smoke in here?

- No. You'll set off the alarm.



   

                   

Now, I'm not gonna look at you.



   

                   

It mustn't look like

I'm talking to anybody.



   

                   

If you're seen in here,

I'm out of a job.



   

                   

See what I mean?



   

                   

If they see you talking to yourself like that,

you'll be out of a job anyway.



   

                   

They'll come after you

with a big butterfly net.



   

                   

Oh, yes.

I'll stand like this then.



   

                   

- Well, that's better, isn't it?

- What?



   

                   

In, out of the cold.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Yeah. Thanks very much.



   

                   

It's funny being inside, innit?



   

                   

'Cause when you are inside,

you're still actually outside, aren't ya?



   

                   

And then you can say,

when you're outside, you're inside...



   

                   

because you're always

inside your head.



   

                   

- Do you follow that?

- Yes.



   

                   

Sometimes when I'm sitting here,

I turn the lights off, sit in the dark.



   

                   

That always makes me feel

like I'm sitting outside.



   

                   

So, what do you do with yourself

here every nighttime?



   

                   

I read, and I think.



   

                   

What do you think about?



   

                   

- I think about my life.

- And is that horrendous for you?



   

                   

No, certainly not.



   

                   

Is it horrendous for your wife?

Are you married, mate?



   

                   

Well, technically I'm married...



   

                   

although my wife is      miles away

and I haven't seen her for    years.



   

                   

It's all going very well then?

Where is she?



   

                   

- She's in Bangkok.

- Saucy.



   

                   

- They're not worth it, are they?

- Whores and harlots.



   

                   

When was the last time

you had a fuck?



   

                   

Is that an embarrassing question for you?



   

                   

It is, rather. Yes.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

Step this way.



   

                   

I want to reveal to you

the mysteries of my trade.



   

                   

- What do you think that is?

- A, uh, Dadaist nun?



   

                   

Wrong. This little lady is

the representative of my employer.



   

                   

- How do you do, love?

- Watch.



   

                   

Very Zen.



   

                   

My existence at this moment, on this spot,

is now trapped and recorded.



   

                   

Twenty-three moments,    sites,

every two hours.



   

                   

That's my job.



   

                   

Well, could they not train

a tall chimpanzee to do that?



   

                   

Or a small chimpanzee

with a bigger gizmo?



   

                   

I expect they could, yes.



   

                   

- What's your name, son?

- Brian.



   

                   

Hello, Brian. Johnny.



   

                   

Well, Brian, congratulations.



   

                   

You succeeded in convincing me that you

do have the most tedious fucking job...



   

                   

in England.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

- Yes, it is a boring job. Bloody boring, actually.

- All right, all right.



   

                   

But all you can see is the tip of the iceberg,

the present, the tedious here and now.



   

                   

What you're incapable of seeing

is the rest of time, the rest of the iceberg...



   

                   

past and the future, my future...



   

                   

which is a very interesting place to be.



   

                   

The good thing about this job

is that it gives me time and space...



   

                   

to contemplate the future at my leisure,

whilst the city sleeps...



   

                   

free from the cacophonous curiosity

of the hoi polloi.



   

                   

So, you see, it's not a boring job.



   

                   

And I'm not boring either.



   

                   

- Am I allowed to smoke on the stairs?

- No. There's alarms all over the building.



   

                   

So you think you can make the present palatable

by projecting into the future?



   

                   

You're living in the past, pal.

It's the future that fucks you up, Brian.



   

                   

It's the maggot in the apple.



   

                   

See, you're all pissed off

with the present, Bri...



   

                   

and there's nothing wrong

with the present.



   

                   

The present's fine. The present's perfect.

The present's peachy fucking creamy.



   

                   

The only thing wrong with the present

is the bastard doesn't exist...



   

                   

because the present is the future,

and the future is the past...



   

                   

and it's all the same

fucking bag of bones anyway.



   

                   

It's a constant process

of coming into being and passing away...



   

                   

coming into being

and passing away.



   

                   

- The future is now.

- But the present does exist. We're in it now.



   

                   

You were just then,

when you said it, but you're not in it now,

you're not in it now, you're not in it now.



   

                   

You're forever being kicked up the ass

by the future. You with me?



   

                   

That's what I mean.



   

                   

See, I'm in the present,

but I'm not in the present.



   

                   

I'm in the future.



   

                   

Exactly.



   

                   

Has nobody not told you, Brian, that you've got

this kind of gleeful preoccupation with the future?



   

                   

I wouldn't even mind,

but you don't even have a fucking future.



   

                   

I don't have a future.

Nobody has a future.



   

                   

The party's over. Take a look around you, man.

It's all breaking up.



   

                   

Are you not familiar with

the Book of Revelations of SaintJohn...



   

                   

the final book of the Bible

prophesying the Apocalypse?



   

                   

Yes, as it happens, I'm familiar

with all the books of the Bible.



   

                   

I'm very happy for you. "He forced everyone

to receive a mark on his right hand...



   

                   

"or on his forehead so that no one

shall be able to buy or sell...



   

                   

"unless he has the mark,

which is the name of the beast...



   

                   

or the number of his name,

and the number of the beast is    ."



   

                   

-    ! I know about it.

- Great.



   

                   

I know about Nostradamus.

Nostradamus talked about three brothers.



   

                   

Did he mean the Kennedy brothers or was he

talking about three bits of the Soviet Union?



   

                   

- You see? You just can't tell.

- Fuck Nostradamus!



   

                   

I'm not talking about Nostradamus or Mother

Shipton or Russell Grant or Mystic-fucking-Meg.



   

                   

I'm talking about the holy fucking book!



   

                   

What can such a specific prophecy mean?



   

                   

What is the mark?



   

                   

Well, the mark, Brian, is the bar code,

the ubiquitous bar code...



   

                   

that you'll find on every bog roll

and every packet of johnnies...



   

                   

and every poxy pork pie.



   

                   

And every fucking bar code is divided

into two parts by three markers.



   

                   

And those three markers are always

represented by the number six.



   

                   

Six, six, six.



   

                   

Now, what does it say? "No one shall be able

to buy or sell without that mark."



   

                   

And now, what they're planning to do

in order to eradicate all credit card fraud...



   

                   

and in order to precipitate

a totally cashless society...



   

                   

what they're planning to do, what they've

already tested on the American troops...



   

                   

they're gonna subcutaneously laser-tattoo

that mark onto your right hand or forehead.



   

                   

They're gonna replace plastic with flesh.



   

                   

Fact!



   

                   

In the same Book of Revelations,

when the seven seals are broken open...



   

                   

on the Day ofJudgment

and the seven angels blow the trumpets...



   

                   

when the third angel blows her bugle,

wormwood will fall from the sky...



   

                   

wormwood will poison

a third part of all the waters...



   

                   

and a third part of all the land,

and many, many, many people will die.



   

                   

Now, do you know what

the Russian translation for "wormwood" is?



   

                   

- No.

- Chernobyl.



   

                   

Fact!



   

                   

On August the   th,     ...



   

                   

the planets of our solar system

are gonna line up into the shape of a cross.



   

                   

- I don't believe in astrology.

- I'm not talking about astrology!



   

                   

I'm talking about astronomy.



   

                   

They're gonna line up in the fixed signs

of Aquarius, Leo, Taurus and Scorpio...



   

                   

which just happen to correspond

to the four beasts of the Apocalypse...



   

                   

as mentioned in the Book of Daniel.



   

                   

Another fucking fact!



   

                   

Do you want me to go on?

The end of the world is nigh, Bri.



   

                   

The game is up!



   

                   

I don't believe that.



   

                   

Life can't just come to a stop.



   

                   





   

                   

All right, I'm not saying

that life will end...



   

                   

or the world will end

or the universe will cease to exist...



   

                   

but man will cease to exist.



   

                   

Just like the dinosaurs passed into extinction,

the same thing will happen to us.



   

                   

We're not fucking important.

We're just a crap idea.



   

                   

I'm not gonna cease to exist.



   

                   

I'm gonna be here in the future.



   

                   

What is this fucking fixation

with the future?



   

                   

Listen, pal,

I've got chronic systolic palpitations...



   

                   

and acute fucking neuralgia.



   

                   

- What about these toilets? Can I smoke in here?

- No, you fucking can't.!



   

                   

- Let me ask you a question.

- What?



   

                   

Have you ever had the sense that you've

lived in a time different from this one?



   

                   

- What, you mean, like, in a past life?

- Could be, yeah.



   

                   

- Well, in my past life, I was dead.

- Ah, well, you see, I wasn't.



   

                   

I know I was here in the past,

before I was born.



   

                   

So I know I'm gonna be here

in the future, after I've died.



   

                   

I see. And in this alternative existence,

did you still have the same noxious body odor?



   

                   

There's no need to be personal.

It's what I believe.



   

                   

- Shall I tell you what I believe?

- You don't believe in anything.



   

                   

- Oh, I do, Brian.

- Yeah? What do you believe?



   

                   

Do you think that the amoeba ever dreamed

that it would evolve into the frog?



   

                   

Of course it didn't.



   

                   

And when that first frog shimmied out of

the water and employed its vocal cords...



   

                   

in order to attract a mate

or to retard a predator...



   

                   

do you think that that frog ever imagined

that that incipient croak...



   

                   

would evolve into all the languages of the world,

into all the literature of the world?



   

                   

Of course it fucking didn't.



   

                   

And just as that froggy could never

possibly have conceived of Shakespeare...



   

                   

so we can never possibly

imagine our destiny.



   

                   

I know what my destiny is.



   

                   

Yeah, but what you're experiencing,

as far as I can gather...



   

                   

with all these manifestations

of, uh, regression and precognition...



   

                   

and transmigratory

astral fucking chatterings...



   

                   

is just the equivalent

of that first primeval grunt...



   

                   

because evolution isn't over.



   

                   

Man isn't the be-all

and fucking end-all.



   

                   

Look, if you take the whole of time,

represented by one year...



   

                   

we're only in the first few moments

of the first ofJanuary.



   

                   

There's a long way to go.



   

                   

Only now we're not gonna sprout

extra limbs and wings and fins...



   

                   

because evolution itself is evolving.



   

                   

And whereas you, through some process

of extrasensory recall...



   

                   

might imagine that you were some...

I don't know... some    th-century Dutch girl...



   

                   

living in a windmill in old Amsterdam...



   

                   

one day you'll realize that you've had not

just one or two past or future existences...



   

                   

but that you were, and are, everybody

and everything that has ever been...



   

                   

or will ever be.



   

                   

Hang on a minute.

You just contradicted yourself.



   

                   

Oh, how'd you make that out?



   

                   

Downstairs you were predicting the end of the world.

Now you're talking about the future.



   

                   

- How do you explain that, eh?

- Easy.



   

                   

When it comes,

the Apocalypse itself...



   

                   

will be part of the process

of that leap of evolution.



   

                   

Yeah. Well, whatever happens...



   

                   

mankind will not cease to exist.



   

                   

He must. By the very definition of apocalypse,

mankind must cease to exist...



   

                   

at least in a material form.



   

                   

What do you mean,

"in a material form"?



   

                   

- Well, he'll evolve.

- What into?



   

                   

Into something

that transcends matter.



   

                   

Into a species of pure thought.

Are you with me?



   

                   

Yeah. Like a ghost.



   

                   

No, not like a fucking ghost,

you big girl's blouse!



   

                   

Into something that's, like,

well beyond our comprehension.



   

                   

Into a universal consciousness.



   

                   

Into God,

who is, by the same principle...



   

                   

that time is.



   

                   

- You don't believe in God.

- Of course I believe in God.



   

                   

You see, the thing is, Brian...



   

                   

that God is a hateful god.



   

                   

Must be...



   

                   

because if God is good,

then why is there evil in the world?



   

                   

Why is there pain and hate

and greed and war?



   

                   

Doesn't make sense.



   

                   

But if God is a nasty bastard, then you can say,

"Why is there good in the world?



   

                   

Why is there love and hope and joy?"



   

                   

Well, let's face it. Good exists

in order to be fucked up by evil.



   

                   

The very existence of good

enables evil to flourish.



   

                   

Therefore, God is bad.



   

                   

And it doesn't matter how many past

or future existences you have...



   

                   

because they're all gonna be riddled

with grief and anguish...



   

                   

and sickness and death.



   

                   

You see, Brian, God doesn't love you.



   

                   

God despises you.



   

                   

So there's no hope...



   

                   

and mankind

is just a component of the device...



   

                   

by which the devil creates itself.



   

                   

Are you with me?



   

                   

You see, what I'm saying, basically, is...



   

                   

you can't make an omelet

without cracking a few eggs...



   

                   

and humanity is just a cracked egg...



   

                   

and the omelet stinks.



   

                   





   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Oh. And what's through

the round window?



   

                   

- Who's that?

- Good question.



   

                   

Have you seen her before?



   

                   

Oh, yeah.

She's there every night.



   

                   

- Good-looking young girl, isn't she?

- She's all right.



   

                   

Does she ever have fellas up there?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Have you ever seen her, like,

you know, totally naked?



   

                   

Once.



   

                   

What's she up to, eh?



   

                   

I mean, what's her game,

taunting people in the middle of the night, eh?



   

                   

She probably gets a kick out of it,

like you get a kick out of watching her.



   

                   

- I'm doing no such thing.

- Well, I am.



   

                   

Have you got a hard-on?



   

                   

No, I haven't, as a matter of fact.



   

                   

You wouldn't tell me if you had,

would you?



   

                   

No, I don't think I would.



   

                   

- Did you make these yourself?

- I did, yeah.



   

                   

I thought so.



   

                   

Well, listen, I might be back

in a couple of minutes.



   

                   

Be good.

If you can't be good, be careful.



   

                   

- And other clichés.

- Yeah.



   

                   

Well, tatty-bye, Bri.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Charles? What?



   

                   





   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

What the fuck's going on?

Where the bloody hell's Dorfman?



   

                   

The bastard's cost me

   grand already.



   

                   





   

                   

Fuck!



   

                   

Sorry about that.



   

                   

Oh, I'm sorry, love.



   

                   

That's not you on the top floor,

is it, dancin'?



   

                   

Yeah. Why?



   

                   

Oh, right.

Um, you're a lovely mover.



   

                   





   

                   

I'm sorry, pet.

I'm, uh, freaking you out.



   

                   

- Where's Bhapu?

- Bhapu?



   

                   

- It's cold.

- Listen, I'd better explain meself.



   

                   

You see, me brother's working

as an "insecurity"guard...



   

                   

in that fucking monstrosity round the back,

and we can see straight into your room.



   

                   

It's very nice.



   

                   

Anyway, he's got his boss coming round,

so he's told me to schlep round the streets...



   

                   

for a couple ofhours, and I said I'd come

and say hello to Isadora Duncan...



   

                   

keep you company.



   

                   

I know it's a bit cheeky,

but, uh, I'm a cheeky young monkey.



   

                   

- Do you want to come in?

- Is that all right?



   

                   

Hmm. How long

have you been growing that?



   

                   

- About two inches.

- Hmm. It's nice.



   

                   

You've had a few, haven't you, love?



   

                   

- Do you want to come in?

- Thought you'd never ask.



   

                   

- Am I allowed to smoke in here?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Thank Christ for that.



   

                   

Do you want a drink?



   

                   

- Mmm.

- I think I better have, don't you?



   

                   

Got a bit of fucking

catching up to do, huh?



   

                   

Here's to the monarchy.



   

                   

What's funny?



   

                   

I'm not laughing.



   

                   

So do you live here on your own, yeah?



   

                   

Is this what you're reading?



   

                   

Jane Austen by Emma.



   

                   

- It's my favorite book.

- Is it really?



   

                   

I don't read much myself.



   

                   

You from Ireland?



   

                   

No. Why?



   

                   

What's that, a damp patch?



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

I never noticed that before.



   

                   





   

                   

How's it going inside there?



   

                   

Mmm. Baby.



   

                   

Baby.



   

                   

How old are you, love?



   

                   

It's funny, 'cause from over there,

you look a lot younger.



   

                   

I think me big brother's

quite taken with you.



   

                   

He's up there every night,

having a bit of a wank about you.



   

                   

Are you with me?



   

                   





   

                   

What's the matter?



   

                   

Don't do that.



   

                   

What, that?



   

                   

Or that?



   

                   

Don't you like that?



   

                   

You don't have to hurt me.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Bite me.



   

                   

Fucking bite me.



   

                   

- Come on.

- Hey!



   

                   

Hey! Hey!



   

                   





   

                   

Who's this?



   

                   

Who's this?



   

                   

Please, will you?



   

                   

I can't, love.



   

                   

You look like me mother.



   

                   

Think you can

recapture your youth by fuckin'it?



   

                   

You don't wanna fuck me.

You'll catch something cruel.





 

                   

Bonjour.



 

                   

What's going on?

What are you doing here?



 

                   

Well, I was over here, like this,

but that didn't really work for me...



 

                   

so I thought I'd try over here.



 

                   

But I don't think there's much

future in this one either.



 

                   

Fuckin' hell.

Have you got any suggestions?



 

                   

- Nope.

- So what do you do now?



 

                   

- I'm gonna get some breakfast.

- Yeah, I could do with something to eat.



 

                   

- Can I come with ya?

- Have you got any money?



  

                   

- Nope.

- Well, how are you gonna pay for it?



  

                   

I'm not.



  

                   

Well, I'm hungry.



  

                   

- Did you have to go and beat her up?

- I never beat her up.



  

                   

- You shagged her though?

- No.



  

                   

You don't believe me, do you?



  

                   

- She's older than you.

- Bollocks.



  

                   

Poached egg.



  

                   

That skirt's a bit short, innit, love?

It's disgraceful.



  

                   

- What's this?

- That's where I'm gonna live.



  

                   

Where is it?



  

                   

Ireland.



  

                   

I've lived in that cottage before.



  

                   

What, in one of your past lives?



  

                   

Yes, as a matter of fact.



  

                   

Fuckin' shit-hole, innit?



  

                   

- Don't waste your life.

- What?



  

                   

Don't waste your life.



  

                   

- What time does this place close?

-  :  .



  

                   

Uh, listen, can you tell me

where I can get something to eat round here?



  

                   

What?



  

                   

- You've got a very nice smile.

- Have I?



  

                   

Oh, yeah.



  

                   

Sorry, sir.



  

                   

I'll take that, sir.



  

                   

Your lady companion

is joining you, sir?



  

                   

Uh, no, she can't make it today, pal.

The old sciatica's playing up and everything.



  

                   

- You know?

- Come on.



  

                   

What?



  

                   

- Out of the car.

- Well, I've only just got in the car.



  

                   

Get out of the fucking car!



  

                   

All right, Parker.

Keep your hat on.



  

                   





  

                   

Well, that was lovely.

Thank you.



  

                   

Keep in touch.



  

                   

Oh, fuck.



  

                   

- Who are you?

- Sebastian Hawks.



  

                   

- Nice to meet you.

- Yeah.



  

                   

Um, what you doin' here?



  

                   

- I'm an acquaintance of Sandra's.

- Oh, yeah?



  

                   

- I just popped round to say hello.

- Well, Sandra's away at the moment, actually.



  

                   

Really.



  

                   

I hope you don't mind,

but I helped myself to a beer.



  

                   

Yeah, I noticed.

Is that your champagne and all?



  

                   

- You like champagne, do you?

- Yeah. I do, as it happens.



  

                   

This is a very nice flat.

Don't you think?



  

                   

How did you get in here?



  

                   

Tell me, do you have any problems

with the central heating?



  

                   

Oh, are you the plumber?



  

                   

Let's just say I've got

a vested interest in the property.



  

                   

Fuckin' hell.

You're the landlord.



  

                   

- I'd rather you thought of me as a friend.

- Oh, shit.



  

                   

What, is Sandra behind

on the rent or something?



  

                   

Was your tattoo painful?



  

                   

Yeah.



  

                   

Good.



  

                   

You're very beautiful, aren't you?



  

                   

Am I?



  

                   

In a quirky sort of way.



  

                   

- Are you a nurse?

- Yeah.



  

                   

Psychiatric.



  

                   





  

                   

These are a very fetching

pair of tights.



  

                   

Oh, you like them, do ya,

Mr. Landlord?



  

                   

Can we have that champagne

now, please?



  

                   

Did you buy them like this,

or are the holes self-inflicted?



  

                   

Nah. A spider spun them,

and that's where he had a tea break.



  

                   

Fucking hell!

That's a bit excessive, innit?



  

                   

- I rather like this belt too.

- Oh, God.



  

                   

Here we go.



  

                   

- Excuse me. Where do you think you're going?

- I'm going home.



  

                   

- What, you're leaving me?

- Yeah.



  

                   

I've come all this way to see you,

and you're going. I can't believe it.



  

                   

- I'm stunned. I'm flabbergasted.

- So we'll get you a tissue.



  

                   

Sounds promising.

Do you live nearby?



  

                   

- I might do.

- I mean, is it within walking distance?



  

                   

No, 'cause, you see, I've got this fascination

with all things peripatetic.



  

                   

- See ya.

- Cheeky, aren't I?



  

                   

Have you stolen the tea cozy?



  

                   

Love, people can see you wearing that thing.

You're not embarrassed? No?



  

                   





  

                   

Don't give up.



  

                   

Oh! Oww!



  

                   





  

                   

Put this on.



  

                   

Oh, what?



  

                   

Gonna play doctors and nurses now,

are we?



  

                   

Hurry up.



  

                   

Oh, this is ridiculous.



  

                   

Listen, I'm really sorry, right,

but I've had a bit of a rough week...



   

                   

and I just don't think

I can go through with this.



   

                   

No!



   

                   

Oh, you fucker!



   

                   

Fuck off! Leave me alone!



   

                   





   

                   

Oh, don't!



   

                   

You bastard!



   

                   

Do you want some beans?



   

                   

Yeah, cheers.



   

                   

So, what would you be doing now

if I wasn't here?



   

                   

Don't know.



   

                   

Having a shower, relaxing.



   

                   

I could do with a shower meself.



   

                   

I haven't washed for about a week,

as you've probably noticed.



   

                   

You can have one if you like.



   

                   

- You sure?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Bathroom's just here.



   

                   

Fuckin' hell.



   

                   

What did I do

to deserve you, love?



   

                   

Just press this button.



   

                   

Now, listen...



   

                   

you're not gonna creep up on me with a big knife,

dressed up as your mother, are you?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

But it looks like you already are

dressed up as your mother.



   

                   

Can I have me bag?

It's got me duck in it.



   

                   

Ta.



   

                   





   

                   

Oh, dear.



   

                   

Who lives here, then? Zeus?



   

                   

- Is all this stuff yours?

- No.



   

                   

All these pseudo Doric midgets

with their novelty underpants.



   

                   

Oh, look at this one,

touching time with a barge pole.



   

                   

I wouldn't.



   

                   

Is he a Homer-sexual, yeah?



   

                   

What do you think?



   

                   

- Where is he?

- They're in America.



   

                   

- They?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- When are they gettin' back?

- Don't know.



   

                   

And they're just letting you

stop here for nothing?



   

                   

- Yeah?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- I don't know them.

- I don't know.



   

                   

- I find all this a bit sad.

- Why?



   

                   

No, I don't mean that

to sound Homer-phobic.



   

                   

I mean, I like The Iliad.



   

                   

And The Odyssey.

Did you get that?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

So, have you read

many of these books?



   

                   

No, I haven't.



   

                   

Oh. I've read quite a few.



   

                   

Oh, look.!

Do you get it now?



   

                   

Do you know this?



   

                   

I bet you do. You've most likely

done it at school. You just can't remember.



   

                   

You know, like, uh, Achilles heel,

the wooden horse, Helen of Troy.



   

                   

- You know them?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Yeah, well, that's all it is.

Good stuff.



   

                   

Cyclops.



   

                   

Oh, hello.



   

                   

It's, uh, pizza delivery man.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Do you want those beans?



   

                   

Oh, yeah. I forgot.



   

                   

Sebastian Hawks.



   

                   

Good evening.



   

                   

Very nice to meet you, Louise.



   

                   

Very nice to meet you.



   

                   

I've heard a lot about you.



   

                   

- Sophie?

- Yeah?



   

                   

Yeah, I'm in here.



   

                   

- Oh. You all right?

- I've never been better.



   

                   

We've had a very interesting afternoon.

Haven't we, Sophie?



   

                   

It's been fascinating.



   

                   





   

                   

For services rendered.



   

                   

Fuck off.



   

                   





   

                   

- Who's your friend?

- He's the landlord, isn't he?



   

                   

- Whose landlord?

- Our fucking landlord.



   

                   

- Oh, get out of town.

- Ask him.



   

                   

- What you wearin' Sandra's uniform for?

- I don't wanna talk about it. All right?



   

                   

- You want a cup of tea?

- Yeah.



   

                   





   

                   

So, have you been sittin' on his face

all afternoon?



   

                   

- I don't need this.

- Jesus Christ.



   

                   

I get home from work, all I wanna do

is put my feet up and watch the telly...



   

                   

not get involved

in one of your orgies.



   

                   

Do you know what I mean?



   

                   

What happened to your arm?



   

                   

Sophie, what's been going on?



   

                   

- Have you put the kettle on?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Any chance of a coffee, Louise?



   

                   

Yeah. Sure.



   

                   

- These are a very nice pair of shorts.

- Would you take your hands off me, please?



   

                   

I apologize.



   

                   

Right, pal. Here's your clothes.

Get your kit on and sling your hook.



   

                   

Here's your shoes, mate.



   

                   

Hope I haven't given you Al DS, Sophie.



   

                   

- Jesus Christ!

- Fucking hell! Are you serious?



   

                   

- Merely jesting.

- Very funny.



   

                   

Mind you, I think Al DS

is rather healthy, in its way.



   

                   

- You what?

- I realize that's not the fashionable thing to say.



   

                   

- No, it's not.

- But the world is overcrowded, isn't it?



   

                   

- Could do with a bit of pruning.

- You fucking better be joking.



   

                   

You're not going to have children,

are you, Louise?



   

                   

I might do one day.



   

                   

I loathe children, I must say.



   

                   

I bet they're not too keen on you neither.



   

                   

I'm sure you like fucking.

Don't you, Louise?



   

                   

- Are you going?

- I'm rather enjoying myself, actually.



   

                   

- Yeah, well, we're not.

- That's a pity.



   

                   

You may be the landlord from hell, but that

doesn't give you the right to lie on our couch.



   

                   

- Whose couch?

- Do you want me to phone the police?



   

                   

Be my guest.



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

- Listen, I can't have them in here.

- Why not?



   

                   

They're gonna look at him in his suit, look at

us, and who do you think they're gonna believe?



   

                   

There's fucking dope

all over the place.



   

                   

Well, we're just winding him up.

He's loving this.



   

                   

What are we gonna do?



   

                   

It's very peaceful here, innit?



   

                   

Suppose so.



   

                   

Are you warm enough?



   

                   

Yeah, it's nice. Thanks.



   

                   

It's funny, 'cause the silence

usually freaks me out.



   

                   

You start to pick up on all the small sounds.

You know what I mean?



   

                   

Like that clock.



   

                   

I hate that fucking clock.



   

                   

Course you do.

It's a clock.



   

                   

Is it all right

if I stay here tonight?



   

                   

Have you ever had a dog?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

- I don't like dogs.

- Why?



   

                   

Well, they're either vicious or daft.



   

                   

- Why? Have you?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- Is it dead now?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Did you bury it?



   

                   

Don't know.

Me dad took it.



   

                   

And what about you?

Would you like to be buried or cremated?



   

                   

I couldn't give a shit.



   

                   





   

                   

I had this, uh, dream the other night

about these two skeletons havin'a fuck.



   

                   

Was a right bloody racket.

Woke me up.



   

                   

Have you got a photo of your mum?



   

                   





   

                   

- What, on me?

- Yeah.



   

                   





   

                   

No.



   

                   

I think you might find one

over at the news agent's, on the top shelf.



   

                   

Do you want some beans?



   

                   

You've got a very sad face.



   

                   

Have I?



   

                   

It's all right.

I mean, I find that attractive.



   

                   

But that's me.



   

                   





   

                   

So, have you got a boyfriend

or anything?



   

                   





   

                   

What are you gonna do for Christmas?



   

                   

I don't know.

What are you gonna do?



   

                   

You all right?



   

                   

- What's the matter?

- Fuck off!



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

What's up, love?



   

                   

- Is it something I said?

- I want you to go.



   

                   

- Why?

- Can you go, please?



   

                   

- Is it 'cause I don't like dogs?

- Get out!



   

                   

- Don't quite follow, love.

- Just fuck off!



   

                   

Oh. I see.



   

                   

Um...



   

                   

Well, perhaps I was

jumping to conclusions...



   

                   

but I got the impression that I could

kip down on the sofa or something.



   

                   

- Go!

- Go where?



   

                   

Have you got any suggestions?

'Cause it's like a fucking Eskimo's grave out there.



   

                   

Hey.! Hey.!



   

                   

All right, I'm going!



   

                   

Hey.!



   

                   

It's not easy, is it?



   

                   

Do you find that?



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

just goes to show ya...



   

                   

that no matter

how many books you read...



   

                   

there's some things in this world

that you never, ever, ever, ever...



   

                   

ever fuckin' understand.



   

                   

Oh, thank you for the tea

and the bath and the booze.



   

                   

And the beans.



   

                   

And listen, love, I hope that when

you're tucked up tonight all snug and warm...



   

                   

underneath your

tear-sodden fuckin' duvet...



   

                   

and your ankle-length

Emily Brontë winding sheet...



   

                   

that you spare a thought for me

with me head in a puddle of cold dog's piss.



   

                   

And I hope that you dream about me.

And I hope that you wake up screamin'.



   

                   

And I hope that

all your fuckin' children...



   

                   

are born blind, bow-legged,

hare-lipped, homeless hunchbacks!



   

                   

Have you ever had an abortion?



   

                   

- Have you?

- No.



   

                   

- I thought I was pregnant once.

- Would you have had one?



   

                   

In the end, it turned out I wasn't,

and he left me anyway, so...



   

                   

I wanted to keep mine.



   

                   

What happened?



   

                   

All my mates said

I couldn't look after a baby.



   

                   

Too fucking right.



   

                   

Did it make you feel shitty?



   

                   

It was a nightmare.



   

                   

I really loved 'im.



   

                   

- He was a philosopher.

- Where was this?



   

                   

- Paris.

- Paris?



   

                   

Should have seen the state

of his girlfriend.



   

                   

Had one when I was    and all.



   

                   

Jesus, Sophie.



   

                   

And that one was worse for my mum.

Fucking drama she made out of it.



   

                   

I could have been married by now

with a four-year-old.



   

                   

Do you wanna get married?



   

                   

Don't know.



   

                   

Just 'cause you have a kid with someone

doesn't mean they're gonna stick around.



   

                   

My dad didn't.

Couldn't fucking wait to get out.



   

                   

Well, I don't know

if I want to get married...



   

                   

but I wouldn't say no

to a proper relationship.



   

                   

What is a proper relationship?



   

                   

Living with someone who talks to ya

after they've bonked ya.



   

                   

I don't know what they want from you

half the time.



   

                   

What they start off liking you for,

they end up hating you for.



   

                   

Don't like you if you're strong.

Don't like you if you're weak.



   

                   

Hate you if you're clever.

Hate you if you're stupid.



   

                   

They don't know what they want.



   

                   

You think that bastard's

fucked off yet?



   

                   

Yeah, he must have done by now.



   

                   

Is this a stick-up?



   

                   





   

                   

- So you must get that all the time, yeah?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Just got it again.



   

                   

So, is this your job,

or a nice little hobby you've got for yourself?



   

                   

You're a lovely mover.



   

                   

- This your van, yeah?

- Yeah.



   

                   

It's, like, uh, I don't know,

top of the range.



   

                   

Very nice.



   

                   

- Are you going up the road?

- You want a lift?



   

                   

- That all right with ya?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Cheers.



   

                   

It's just I been walkin' round the streets

all night. You know what I mean?



   

                   

These fuckin' feet are on their last legs,

I'm tellin' ya.



   

                   

- So, how much do you earn for doin' this?

- It's none of your fuckin' business.



   

                   

I mean, is the pay as substantial

as, say, the wages of sin?



   

                   

Know what I mean?

You with me?



   

                   

Listen, captain, is it all right

if I have a go at doing this, yeah?



   

                   

Oh! God love ya.



   

                   

Or does it take, like, thousands of years

of state-subsidized government training...



   

                   

to do this clobber, yeah?



   

                   

You gotta slap on, like, copious quantities

of the old industrial sputum there.



   

                   

Beg your pardon.



   

                   

It's a wonderful career opportunity for me.

You know what I mean?



   

                   

- I'm gonna play the joker on this one.

- Shift...



   

                   

- Very well... Aah!

- Shift out of the fucking way.



   

                   

No, I like Laurel and Hardy, although

apparently they didn't get on in real life.



   

                   

Another illusion shattered.



   

                   

Sorry about that, pal. It's just, I've had

a lot of bad experience with walls, you know...



   

                   

what with talking to them

and climbing them.



   

                   

Me dad's driven me up a good few in his time.

You know what I mean?



   

                   

But I think I've got a secret...

a saucy little secret.



   

                   

The solipsistic, sagacious little secret

is just, you got... you just gotta...



   

                   

bang your fuckin' head against 'em.



   

                   

Just crack the old pate...

Are you with me?



   

                   

Have you got it? And that's it.

That is the key to enlightenment, which is...



   

                   

It's, like, that's why... that's why it's, like,

such a potent motif of civilization.



   

                   

It's the wall... It's like

the Great Wall of China...



   

                   

and the wall ofJericho

and the Berlin Wall and the wailing wall.



   

                   

Now, you see, theJews,

they've almost got it, haven't they?



   

                   

A real rockin' and that, you know.

Just six inches away and they'll be there.



   

                   

They'd have won the fucking race.

They'll be there. Are you with me?



   

                   

What is all this, anyway?

What are you doin'? Cancel everything.



   

                   

In the beginning was the word,

and the word was "canceled."



   

                   

You get satisfaction out of this?

You think you're making a contribution?



   

                   

You're, like, sort of

publicly promulgating vacuities.



   

                   

Are you with me?

Fuckin' hell!



   

                   

That's it!

Blank it all out!



   

                   

Blank it all out till you just atrophy

and die of fuckin' indifference!



   

                   

Can I show you something, pal?

You see that at the top of your legs?



   

                   

That's your ass, right, and that's your

fuckin' elbow. Do you wanna write it down or...



   

                   

Oh!



   

                   

Fuck. Ow.



   

                   

Who's that supposed to be?

Me dad?



   

                   

You wanna watch that, mate.

I've got a dicky sacrum here.



   

                   

Shit.



   

                   

F...

Uh, can you, uh, come back here?



   

                   

Uh, did I upset ya?



   

                   





   

                   

Mate!



   

                   

You got me bag!



   

                   

You fucking tosser!



   

                   

You've got... Fuck!



   

                   

Fuck!



   

                   

All right, listen.

Does anybody mind if I scream here?



   

                   

Is that okay with you all? 'Cause I'd

feel better for it. It won't take long.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Fuck.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Who's that?



   

                   

Let's get him.



   

                   





   

                   

Let's go. Fuck.



   

                   

Let's do it.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Who's that?



   

                   

Oh, Jesus.



   

                   

What's been happening to ya?



   

                   

Will you shut up, for God's sake.



   

                   





   

                   

- Oww.!

- I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'm sorry.



   

                   

Just give us a fag.



   

                   

Fucking comedian.



   

                   





   

                   

It's not my fault.



   

                   

What's not your fault?



   

                   





   

                   

- Where are you going?

- I just want to go to bed.



   

                   

Will you be quiet!



   

                   

- I fuckin' walked here.

- Where from?



   

                   





   

                   

- Which way?

- Um... I'm gon...



   

                   

I'm gonna be sick.



   

                   





   

                   

Fuckin' hell.

What's happened to him?



   

                   

Don't know.



   

                   

- Johnny. Are you all right, Johnny?

- Get off!



   

                   

Shh!



   

                   

- Is he still here?

- I don't know.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

- Right. We'd better get him into bed.

- Yeah.



   

                   

- You take that end, I'll take this end.

- Okay. Don't push me, right?



   

                   

I'm not pushin' ya.



   

                   

- Careful. That's his bad leg.

- Well, what do you want me to do?



   

                   

After three.



   

                   

One, two, three.



   

                   

I wanna go. I wanna go!



   

                   

Johnny...



   

                   

Johnny!



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

I know.



   

                   

I know you told me.



   

                   

And... I'm not here yet.!

I'm still wet.



   

                   

What did she mean?



   

                   

Why not me brother?



   

                   

Will it be quiet now? Yeah?



   

                   

Are we going?



   

                   

Oh, fuck. Shit.



   

                   

- Who's this?

- It's all right. He's a friend of mine.



   

                   

What extraordinary friends you have.



   

                   

- He's only got one sock on.

- Shut up.!



   

                   

You seem a bit tense, Sophie.

Would you like a massage?



   

                   

- A d-d-doctor...

- Pardon?



   

                   

- Is he the doctor?

- You're rather disgusting, aren't you?



   

                   

You're not crying,

are you, Louise?



   

                   

Oh, listen,

when are you gonna fuck off?



   

                   

This has got nothing

to do with you. Right?



   

                   

No! No! Stop!



   

                   

Leave me alone!



   

                   

Ow. Me leg.



   

                   

You don't know.



   

                   

Aren't people pathetic?



   

                   

Right.

I'm going to beddy-byes.



   

                   

If anyone wishes to join me,

I'll be under the duvet.



   

                   





   

                   

- Are you all right?

- Yeah. Are you?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Come on.

I'll give you a hand.



   

                   

I'm all right.

I walked here.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

Is it here?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

- Who's that?

- Clancy.



   

                   

I thought so.



   

                   

- I used to know you, didn't I?

- Yeah.



   

                   

* Take me back to Manchester *



   

                   

* When it's raining *



   

                   

* I want to wet me feet *



   

                   

* In Albert Square *



   

                   

* I'm all agog *



   

                   

* For a good, thick fog *



   

                   

* I don't like the sun *



   

                   

* I like it raining cats and dogs *



   

                   

* I want to smell the odors *



   

                   

* Of the Irwell *



   

                   

* I want to feel the soot

get in me hair *



   

                   

* Oh, I don't want to roam *



   

                   

* I want to get back home *



   

                   

* To rainy Manchester **



   

                   

I've got an hard-on.



   

                   

What's...



   

                   

What are you...



   

                   

This is, uh...



   

                   

It's disgusting!



   

                   

Nobody in my...



   

                   

Who's he?



   

                   

Y-You've got your boots on it!



   

                   

She's...



   

                   

And what's this doing...



   

                   

This is something I can't...



   

                   

I don't...



   

                   

It's not...



   

                   

I just don't need all this...

palaver.



   

                   

Oh, shit.



   

                   





   

                   

Okay, who's Jeremy?



   

                   

- Who's Jeremy?

- What do you mean?



   

                   

Sandra.

What a nice surprise.



   

                   

What are you doing here?



   

                   

- How was Zimbabwe?

- Shift!



   

                   

- Good morning, Louise.

- Where's Jeremy?



   

                   

- Who's Jeremy?

- These areJeremy's.



   

                   

- That's Sebastian's.

- No, look.



   

                   

"Jeremy Smart." "Jeremy Smart."

"Jeremy G. Smart."



   

                   

Well, I've never heard of him.



   

                   

Sebastian, who...



   

                   

Are you Jeremy G. Smart?



   

                   

Are you?



   

                   

Johnny. Johnny, wake up.



   

                   

- Leave him.

- Oh, for fuck's sake, Sophie.



   

                   

- Sandra's back.

- What day is it?



   

                   

- It's Friday.

- Oh, fuck this.



   

                   

- Look at his eye.

- Christ.



   

                   

He can lie down in my room...

Oh, God!



   

                   

What are you doing?

He's not harming anyone.



   

                   

- Have you seen the state of her? Johnny!

- I'm here, Johnny.



   

                   

Morning, everyone!



   

                   

I would actually like to have some kind

of explanation for all this because...



   

                   

- Having fun?

- Can you put these on, please?



   

                   

Sophie and I had a fuck on your bed

yesterday afternoon, Sandra.



   

                   

- Oh, God.

- You are just...



   

                   

- She was very good, I must say.

- Filth!



   

                   

- Not as good as you though.

- You lying...



   

                   

- Nastiness!

- We must do it again sometime.



   

                   





   

                   

Will you...



   

                   

How can you...



   

                   

Everything...



   

                   

I can't cope with this.



   

                   

You've got five minutes.



   

                   

Five minutes to get your things on

and get the hell ou...



   

                   

I shouldn't worry about it

so much if I were you.



   

                   

I'd forgotten what a beautiful bottom

you've got, Sandra.



   

                   

Two minutes.



   

                   

Marvelous tits.



   

                   

Listen, Sandra, I'm really sorry.

We weren't expecting you back.



   

                   

I fail to... Why...



   

                   

l-It's a pig sty! It's...



   

                   

- I know. It just got out of hand.

- Obviously!



   

                   

- A-And what's all that?

- He's a friend of mine.



   

                   

- Can I make you a cup of tea?

- I don't want tea. I don't want...



   

                   

I just want... My journey was...



   

                   

- He's not very well!

- What's the matter with him?



   

                   

He's got a lump on his face the size

of a boiled egg, and he won't wake up.



   

                   

- Did he do this?

- Who?



   

                   

- Sebasti... Jeremy!

- You never warned me about him, did ya?



   

                   

- What are you talking about?

- Fucking letting himself in with the keys.



   

                   

- Bastard!

- I don't...



   

                   

Right. Let's get this shoe off.



   

                   

Have you ever had smoked salmon

after making love, Louise?



   

                   

- Don't like smoked salmon.

- I think you should try it.



   

                   

It's rather wonderful.



   

                   

Will you undo your fly, Sebastian?



   

                   

Would you like me to?



   

                   

Honest.



   

                   

Oh, do you not want me to slice your prick off

and shove it up your ass?



   

                   





   

                   

Maggot-dick.



   

                   





   

                   

- Could you pass me that pillow, please?

- Here you go.



   

                   

- I can't move, Sandra.

- You are worse than useless.



   

                   

You all right?



   

                   

- You don't think it's broken, do ya?

- No, he can move it.



   

                   

- You can do that, can't you?

- Why would I want to do that?



   

                   

Don't even...

Not in my room, Sophie!



   

                   

- I need a fag.

- I don't care.



   

                   

- Cop hold of that.

- Oh, just don't start, right?



   

                   

It really is beyond me

the way you girls choose to live your lives.



   

                   

My mind just... boggles.



   

                   

He's gone back to sleep.



   

                   

Was that the front door?



   

                   

- He's gone.

- Thank God.



   

                   





   

                   

Go slowly, Johnny.



   

                   

Now, what you two must do...



   

                   

is take this one to Casualty and make sure

he gets himself looked at before he goes home.



   

                   

- Gonna be sick.

- Are you?



   

                   

- Get him into the bathroom.

- All right.! All right.! Let's not...



   

                   

Just a minute. That's it.



   

                   

Make it steady.



   

                   

- Here you are.

- Okay.



   

                   

It's in me tash.



   

                   

You wanna get it cut.



   

                   

It's in your mouth.



   

                   

Have you had a bath lately?



   

                   

- I had one yesterday.

- As if!



   

                   

- I did.

- Where have you been, Johnny?



   

                   

Down the Via De La Rosa.

Don't be nosy.



   

                   

- You not going to work?

- I'm late.



   

                   

- Ah. You'll get the sack.

- Yeah.



   

                   

It's all right.

You can put all your troubles in it.



   

                   

- Hey, I lost me bag.

- Yeah, I noticed. Where is it?



   

                   

- I don't know. It's lost.

- Any valuables?



   

                   

Yeah, it's got me collection of

famous retired glove puppets in there.



   

                   

That's it. All gone.



   

                   

Did you get it nicked?



   

                   

Would you put that out?



   

                   

I haven't cleaned me teeth yet.



   

                   

Could you not just put 'em

in a glass or something, no?



   

                   





   

                   

I remember

when you bought these shorts.



   

                   

I warned you about 'em then.



   

                   

Yeah, well...



   

                   

- I only got 'em to piss you off.

- Mission accomplished.



   

                   

- Is he all right?

- Yeah.



   

                   

What, is this a spectator sport or something?

The hundred-meter vomit?



   

                   

Sophie, do you mind if I have

a word with Johnny on me own?



   

                   

Do you want a word with Louise

on your own?



   

                   

- Are you being sarcastic?

- No.



   

                   

Well, do as you're told.



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

Whose is all this money?

Three hundred and eighty pounds.



   

                   

It really oughtn't to be left laying,

waiting for...



   

                   

- Whose is all that?

- Don't know.



   

                   

Who's been playing ping-pong

with your face?



   

                   

Sky fell in on me.



   

                   

A cloud caught me

across the cheek.



   

                   

- So, why did you come to London?

- Come to run in the marathon.



   

                   

Will you give me

a straight answer, please?



   

                   

Well, I had to get out of Manchester

'cause I was gonna get a beating...



   

                   

and I come down here

and, uh... get a beating.



   

                   

- Were you asking for it?

- No.



   

                   

I wasn't.

They just come out of nowhere.



   

                   

- Honest?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- So, what you gonna do?

- What you gonna do?



   

                   

What are you gonna do?



   

                   

Don't know.

Might go home for the weekend.



   

                   

Well, there's no place like it.



   

                   

Might not come back.



   

                   

Are you going back?



   

                   

Is that nice?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- I'm puttin' the "fun" back in fundament.



   

                   

Are ya?



   

                   

- Well, I'll have to go back sometime, won't I?

- And what about us?



   

                   

What about us?



   

                   

- Do ya hate me?

- Fuck off.



   

                   

My mum was seven years

younger than you when she had me.



   

                   

- Don't.

- What?

- Just...



   

                   

Well, she was.



   

                   





   

                   

- I'm full of shit, aren't I?

- Sometimes.



   

                   

- Well, I've had it all kicked out of me now.

- Oh. Good.



   

                   

What if God just put us here

for his own entertainment?



   

                   

That's all we are... just something

for him to have a bit of a laugh at.



   

                   

Could be, couldn't it...



   

                   

if you think about it?



   

                   

Give us your right hand.



   

                   

The other way up.



   

                   





   

                   

What's that?



   

                   

- That's funny to me.

- You're daft, you.



   

                   

It's, uh, toilet humor.



   

                   

Will you give me a cuddle, Johnny?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   





   

                   





   

                   





   

                   

What's the matter?



   

                   

Can you not tell me?



   

                   

If no one tells me what's going on,

then how am I supposed to...



   

                   

I don't understand, Johnny!



   

                   

- How was Zambia?

- It was Zimbabwe!



   

                   

I went to Zimbabwe with

my wanker boyfriend... my ex...



   

                   

What did I do wrong?



   

                   

Did you see any big animals?



   

                   

Yes! We saw elephants and rhinos

and zebras and lions and vultures.



   

                   

- Did you see any monkeys?

- We saw many monkeys.



   

                   

Were they cheeky?



   

                   

It's not good for me, is it,

all this, in my condition?



   

                   

Well, yes... No... Yes...

It's not good for me, it's not good for you.



   

                   

- It's not good for any of us! It's utterly...

- Oh, excuse me for living!



   

                   





   

                   

Is... Is this it, Johnny?



   

                   

Is what it?



   

                   

I can't bear it!



   

                   

Right. I'm off!



   

                   

Off your trolley.



   

                   

Oh, don't fucking take the piss

out of me, you bastard!



   

                   

You don't know!



   

                   

All I want...

Nobody has any...



   

                   

Can you just please try and...



   

                   

- I've had enough.! Oh, God.!

- This is a nightmare.!



   

                   





   

                   

- If you could just try and pull yourself together...

- Where you going?



   

                   

- I don't know!

- Why don't you come and have a lie-down?



   

                   

- I don't care!

- Sophie!



   

                   

- Here's the keys!

- I don't want the keys.



   

                   

- Well, I don't fucking want 'em!

- I'm not a social worker!



   

                   

Sophie.



   

                   

Don't be fucking stupid.



   

                   

What's the point, Louise?



   

                   

Sophie!



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   





   

                   

Johnny.



   

                   

You all right?



   

                   

- Mmm?

- I'm going.



   

                   

- Where?

- Work, to hand me notice in.



   

                   

Then I'm coming back here

and packing me bags and I'm going home.



   

                   

- Do you want to come?

- Today?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- You serious?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- How?



   

                   

Bus.



   

                   

- Well, have you got enough dough?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- 'Cause I've not got nothin'.

- I know.



   

                   

Do you think you can make it?



   

                   

Don't know.



   

                   

Well, if you can't,

we can stay here till tomorrow.



   

                   

I'll see you later.



   

                   

Uh, can you leave us a few fags

for cancer research?



   

                   

Here are your sh...



   

                   

I was actually hoping

that the air could...



   

                   

What are we gonna do

about all this?



   

                   

I don't know, Sandra.



   

                   

Look, I'll see you

in a couple of hours.



   

                   

- Fine.

- Uh, you will come back?



   

                   

Yeah. Of course I will.



   

                   

- Because I need...

- You'll be all right, won't ya?



   

                   

- Will I be all right, love?

- I'm gonna get the bath cleaned.



   

                   

You all know what it does to you...



   

                   

and yet you still insist on doing it,

so do it.



   

                   

Smoke yourself to...



   

                   

Well, birds do it, bees do it.



   

                   

High heaven.



   

                   

Can you tell me something, love?



   

                   

Is it true that some babies

are born covered in fur?



   

                   

Up.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

And you know, at birth,

when you cut the umbilical cord...



   

                   

what would happen if, uh...

well, if it was never cut?



   

                   

I don't need this. I just...



   

                   

Well, it'd be embarrassing, wouldn't it?

Especially at my age.



   

                   

Why do you feel the need

to take the piss?



   

                   

I'm not taking a piss.



   

                   

- It's nice, that. Where is it from?

- I don't know.



   

                   

It's something my dad...



   

                   

Now, you see, Sophie

just turned that to the wall.



   

                   

She's got this kind of

irritating proclivity for negation.



   

                   

Suppose she thinks

it's progressive or something.



   

                   

- What is your problem?

- Nothing. What's your problem?



   

                   

All these silly questions and...



   

                   

Well, look, I've never met a nurse before,

and I'm just interested in, uh... well, in life.



   

                   

I mean, do you think it's worth savin'?



   

                   

Of course I do!



   

                   

But there is a time and a place...



   

                   

and, actually,

this isn't the time or...



   

                   

- The place?

- No.



   

                   

And this is where I...



   

                   

- Live?

- Yes!



   

                   

And I'm not feeling very...



   

                   

- Sexy?

- Comfortable, actually.



   

                   

I'm not feeling very comfortable.



   

                   

Well, make yourself comfortable, love,

or slip into something more.



   

                   

My bath...



   

                   

Hot toast, hot milk,

hot water bottle, bed, sleep.



   

                   

- Do you like me?

- I don't know you.



   

                   

- So...

- Do you find me attractive?



   

                   

Well, listen, love, it's like this...

I find you attractive.



   

                   

- Very attractive.

- Enough.



   

                   

I've had enough.



   

                   

It comes at me from all angles.



   

                   

Y-You... All of you just...



   

                   

I-It's the tin lids...



   

                   

When... How will the world ever...



   

                   

- End?

- Yes!







 
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