Cemetery Junction
1
Shut that down a second,
will you, Dave?
Bob, come round here for a bit.
Jim, put it over here with me.
-Fredrick Taylor. Freddie Taylor.
-Yes, sir.
Welcome
to Vigilant Life Assurance.
I see that you grew up
in Cemetery Junction.
Went to Stonemead, the worst school
in the south of England.
Mr. Kendrick will see you.
They expect you to leave at 14
with no qualifications...
...and go directly
to the scrapheap of life.
-Does this sound about right?
-I suppose so, sir.
Well, I know so because I grew up
in Cemetery Junction...
...and I went to that school.
I knew that.
It's one of the reasons
I wanted to work for you.
Mike Ramsay is gonna be supervising.
You got anything to add, Mike?
When selling life assurance, you want
the stench of death in their nostrils.
Talking to the husband,
you want the missus thinking:
"Crumbs, chief. What's my life
gonna be like when he pegs it?"
Men work, women worry.
That's what you rely on.
Don't look at Mr. Kendrick.
He didn't hear that, and I didn't say it.
Do you understand?
-Yes, sir.
-Lovely.
Over to you, sir.
You're a bit of an inspiration to me.
I know that you got out
of the old neighborhood.
I know that you've got a Rolls-Royce
parked in your own parking space.
And I know that you own a mansion
worth 40,000 pounds.
Forty-two thousand pounds.
That's what I want, sir.
I don't want to end up like my dad.
Coming home aching, with grease on
my hands and nothing to show for it.
Good.
Hello. Hi. I'm Freddie Taylor.
Hello. Hello, I'm Freddie Taylor.
Mr. F. Taylor from
the Vigilant Life Assurance Company.
Good day to you.
Can I come in? Thanks.
What? This? Yeah.
Yeah, it's real leather, yeah.
I've just got some
very important documents in here.
Can I sit down? Thanks.
Oh, I love your curtains. They're so--
-Hold him, hold him.
-Oh, my God.
I'm not even breathing. I'm not--
That is disgusting.
Not allowed to fart on him
now he doesn't work in a factory.
-What are you listening to?
-Vaughan Williams.
Had that suit on five minutes,
already a poof.
For listening to classical music?
-That is the test for queerness.
-That is the test.
Get that off. That's real leather.
Oh, hello.
Freddie, stop listening to music
made by poofs.
Stick on some Elton John.
Sergeant.
-Evening. How are you?
-All right.
-How's your dad?
-He's all right.
Caught him at home watching Noddy.
It's another big night.
Why's Noddy got a hat
with a bell on it?
-Go on.
-Because he's a c*nt.
It's five past 7.
Here, mate. Watch out, watch out.
-You seen Snork's tattoo?
-No.
Oh, you're gonna love this.
Show him.
Now, must point out
you designed it yourself.
Yeah. Drew it myself.
Had it done down on Elgar Road.
-Cost him two weeks' wages.
-Bloody hell.
-All right, all right, you queers.
-Ready?
What the f*** is that?
Well, it's a beautiful lady vampire
looking out of a window.
I'm Bruce, that's Freddie,
that's Snork.
-It's Paul.
-Why Snork?
Those glasses, thought they made him
look like Elton John.
I thought he looked like Snork
out of Banana Splits.
Remember the fat one
with the glasses and the trunk?
Trunk, sure. Call me Snork
because I got a nose for muff.
Every time. Every time.
Hey, how you doing?
-You look great.
-Oh, hey.
Hi.
-Wait, I'll turn around.
-Oh, Jesus, there's a back to it as well.
-Who's that out on the street?
-It's me.
-What, you're naked too?
-I'm gonna go and give her one.
-Why such a big knob?
-Well, I've got a hard-on.
-Why have you already got a hard-on?
-Ain't you seen her b*obs?
Just a minute. You're naked, but--
Are you wearing socks?
I'm in the street.
Don't want my feet getting cold.
That's a good point, actually.
I'm getting off with a vampire.
What have you two ever done?
-Real women.
-Real women.
Vampire, though.
-What's your name?
-Who are you?
-Well, I'm Paul.
-We call him Snork.
-Because I got a nose for muff.
-What you talking to my wife for?
I didn't realize.
-She is.
-He didn't realize.
-Why are you getting involved?
-I'm not.
-What are you doing?
-Look what you've done.
-Pushed over a little retard.
-Yeah. But he's my little retard.
Stop! Stop!
Go left, go left, go left.
Wait. Hold up.
Come on.
-Come on, Snork, over.
-Don't hurt your ankle, Snork.
Come on.
Oh, sh*t.
Wakey-wakey. Rise and shine.
Stand by your beds.
Out you come, you lucky, lucky boys.
-Come on, off you go.
-They're not going anywhere.
Been involved in disorderly conduct
and a major disturbance of the peace.
Let them out, you little ponce,
or I'll disturb your bloody peace.
-What does that mean?
-No idea. Okay, off you go.
Can I help you?
Yeah. Start by brushing your teeth.
You been sucking the toilet mat?
-Leave it out. Come on. Off you go.
-Okay.
Snorky.
-Freddie. Send your mom my love.
-Yeah, all right.
-Your dad still around?
-Yeah.
Shame.
That's a shame, that.
Looking forward to my dinner.
-Morning, Brucie.
-All right, Bill.
These people are queuing for food.
They are Ethiopian peasants
who used to own houses...
...land and cattle.
Elton John's looking for a wife.
Now they possess nothing
but the clothes...
...that hang
from their frail shoulders.
He's a lying sod. He's been eating.
He's got a potbelly and everything.
Eat the flies if you're hungry.
Fussy little bleeder.
-No, no. That's enough of that.
-I'm joking.
I'm not having that on while we eat.
It's revolting. Switch it off.
-I'm not getting up. Don't look at it.
-Here he is.
Where were you last night?
Dirty stop-out.
-I stayed at a mate's place.
-Oh, yeah? What mate?
Don't worry, he's a policeman.
-So he'd have kept you out of trouble?
-Oh, yes. We were very secure.
--in the afternoon,
one piece of bread.
These humble scraps of food are....
They're pretty when they're babies,
aren't they, the blacks?
I saw one in the hospital
when I was having Len.
Yeah. To be honest, I think
the little half-castes are prettiest.
When they're little they are, yeah.
Well, I feel sorry for them
more than the poor ones, really.
They're not one thing nor the other.
Blacks don't like them
because they got a bit of white.
Whites don't like them
because they got a bit of black.
-Sad, really.
-It is sad.
-You lot don't half-talk some bollocks.
-Language in front of your nan.
He's got too much
of what the cat licks its ass with.
-What does that mean?
-You've got too much lip.
Cats don't lick their asses
with their lips. It's their tongue.
Stop answering back.
You know what she's talking about.
You've got no respect.
I know why.
Because he wears a suit to work.
Thinks he's better than his dad.
That don't mean nothing.
One day he's gonna realize
he's like the rest of us.
You listen.
He knows what he's talking about.
-You'll never amount to anything.
-Exactly.
Because he never amounted
to anything.
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"Cemetery Junction" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/cemetery_junction_5243>.
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