44 Inch Chest Page #4

he'd be dead already.

- Yeah, but if you was me?

- That's a big leap for me,

Colin.

- Please, try.

- I'd toss a coin.

Heads, I'd skin him alive,

find her, do the same.

- And if it was tails?

- That's the hard part, Colin.

- No, I couldn't do that.

I mean, how can I do that?

I mean, let him go.

No, I don't think

I can do that.

- Let's hope it's heads then.

Who's got a coin?

- You're a nasty bastard,

ain't ya?

- Am I?

- I got a 2p.

- Hang on, Colin.

A long 'un says it's heads.

- All right, you're on, yeah.

- Yeah, I'll have some of that.

- Nasty bastard.

- All right, go on, Col.

-

I get, ooh

-

Chills and fever

Yeah, chills and fever

Ooh, chills and fever

Chills and fever

is what you give to me

-

Chills and fever

Oh

Chills and fever

Whoa, baby!

Chills and fever

Chills and fever

is what you give to me

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah

Oh!

- Squeeze her tits, did ya?

- How was that?

- Do the trick, did it?

Get her going?

- Hand up her skirt

inside her knickers?

It's all right, innit?

- Loverboy.

- Wanker.

- Get it out, did ya?

Give it a rub?

- In the noddy?

On the bed?

- Spit and polish?

- I bet.

- Cop a feel?

- David Copperfield?

- Nice and wet, was she?

- Do you like that?

- You make me sick.

- Use a banana?

- Blimey O'Reilly.

- What's your secret?

Old Spice?

- Splash it all over?

- Now you're talking.

A little bit kinky.

- Oh, yeah, golden shower.

- The erotic world

of Jacques Cousteau.

- So what was it, then?

Eyes meet across the room?

Crashing waves?

Fireworks?

"I think I love you. "

"Will you marry me?"

"Oh, darling, forever. "

Bollocks.

Bum her, did you?

- Oh, dear.

- Kama Sutra?

- 99 Flake?

- Lickety split?

- Lick it. Lick it.

- The ol' Vaseline?

- Nice and easy.

- Plaubou.

- Arsehole!

- Playmate!

- C*nt!

- F***er!

- Polaroids?

- Bombay roll?

- Ah, that's handy.

- Pearl necklace?

- That looks nice.

- Terrible thing to do.

- Rock-hard Hudson.

- Upstairs, downstairs?

Round the back?

- Bull's-eye.

- You're a bit of a boy,

ain't ua?

Bit of a f***ing boy?

- Stud.

- That's 20th-century Casanova

sitting there in a plastic bag.

- Certainly is.

- Right rascal.

- Didn't use a candle, did ya?

Don't tell me that.

- He didn't, did he?

- F***ing did!

- F***ing hell!

- Not love eggs?

That's awful.

- The man's a love machine.

- She's a mother!

That's somebody's mother,

uou idiot.

She's got children.

- She's a wife!

Can't be off gobblin'!

- She's got a grieving husband.

That's him.

That's Colin.

- You've ruined him!

- He's a husk.

Nothing left of him!

- He's shattered.

You've shat on him, you sh*t.

- That's his missus.

That was his missus

you diddled.

That was Liz.

That was his Liz!

That was his Liz you f***ed.

That's Mrs. Diamond,

Mrs. Colin Diamond.

A married woman, you berk!

- And you a f***ing waiter.

A f***ing waiter!

A f***ing frog waiter!

You cunting spunker.

You sorry f***.

You'll be f***ing sorry.

You thought yesterday

was something.

Today's gonna be

something else.

Yesterday was nothing.

I've been home, had a bath,

had a kip,

something to eat,

watched a bit of telly.

I got a life.

Been down the pub,

had a laugh.

I had a drink.

I had a dance.

And uou?

You stink.

Locked in a f***ing wardrobe.

Chucked in like a puppet,

like an unwanted toy.

You sack of sh*t.

I'm rolling up me sleeves.

Say your f***ing prayers.

- I want to be alone with it.

- Is that a good idea?

- Yeah, all right, Col.

We'll leave you alone

for a bit.

Why not?

We'll have a fag

in the passage.

- You dare get emotional.

You dare get emotional.

Don't you dare.

Leave that out.

You hear me?

You kill him quick,

and you're a c*nt.

Got it?

- Peanut.

- Remember, he had your wife.

Nice and slow, boy.

Nice and slow.

- You thinking, ain't you?

Under that stupid bag,

thinking away.

I can hear it,

hear your brain whirring.

Well, let me have a stab

at what you might be thinking,

beside the obvious,

"Sweet Jesus, please help me. "

My guess is you're thinking,

"Why am I still alive?"

Is that right?

Is it?

Nod your f***ing head

if that's right.

Thank you.

Well, I'll tell you

why you're still alive,

but this is strictlu

between me and you, mind.

See, thing is,

I've got a bit of a dilemma,

which is stupid, I know,

but you see, with you dead,

which is what I want

Don't get me wrong.

I want uou dead.

I think you owe me that.

I do.

'Cause that's what

you've done to me.

You f***ing killed me.

But you see, with you dead,

she, Liz,

will hate me forever.

End of story.

But on the other hand,

if I let uou live,

well, maybe me and Liz,

we can...

Who knows?

Who f***ing knows?

You know, I don't even know

what uou look like.

Well, it's all been

a bit of a blur, you know?

Last night,

I couldn't see anything,

what with the rage and that,

the disappointment.

Let's have a look at you.

You're not a bad-looking boy.

I can see the attraction.

Yeah, young, fit,

well-built,

sexy.

I mean, be it if you don't

mind me saying so,

it's all a bit obvious,

innit?

All a bit of a clich.

I mean, what was she thinking?

Silly cow.

What a stupid woman.

You don't know

the first thing about her.

I'll bet she's never

farted in front of you, has she?

Has she?

No, I thought not.

I mean, that's not

romantic, is it?

You just want

the perfume clouds of love,

the magicalness of it all,

the false crap.

Well, I've got news for you,

sonny Jim.

That's not love.

I mean, love's hard work,

hard graft.

Love can be murder.

Love is watching what

she wants to watch on the telly,

taking her the papers

and a cup of tea

on a Sunday morning in bed

and inquiring

to how she might be feeling.

"You all right, Liz?

Want some plumping up

of pillows?"

And she might get irritated

bu that,

but you got to take it

on the chin,

have broad shoulders,

'cause she's the queen,

and you're the bee,

the dad.

And so what

if you cook the dinner,

and you get no thanks for it?

Don't do it

if you expect thanks.

That's not why you do it.

And, yes, you've forgotten

that dripping tap or whatever

for the past five years,

and then one day,

for whatever reason,

f*** knows whu,

you get off your fat arse,

and you find yourself

under the sink

with a spanner in your hand,

and uou're smiling like f***,

because you know

it's gonna please her.

And if she don't notice it,

she don't notice it.

It don't matter.

It's fixed.

It's plumbed.

It's the maintenance

of a marriage,

the nuts and bolts,

the nitty-gritty,

the realitu.

That's life.

That's love.

It ain't easy.

Nobody ever said

it was gonna be easy.

It's f***ing hard work.

But you know,

love can be...

lovely.

One day,

you'll be in the bathroom

having a shave

in front of the mirror.

You got soap on your face,

and you'll feel her approaching,

uou know, entering.

She's left a pair of tights

drying on the radiator.

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