Filth Page #3

Oh, aye.

Well, this should see you through

to your next appointment, yes?

I'll see you in the new year.

Right?

- Merry Christmas to you, Bruce.

- Thank you, Dr Rossi. Thank you.

And Merry Christmas to you, too, eh?

Well, thank you for that, Bruce.

Oh, yes...

F*** off!

Hello.

Welcome to the Fantastic Shed Show.

My mum's in. If she hears that I'm doing a

TV show out in the garden, she'll go mad.

Cunty Bunty, Cunty Bunty,

how does your big minge grow?

- Hello?

- Hello, Bunty.

It's Frank Sidebottom here.

I've had just about enough of you.

He told us, right, that you have got

a big hairy fanny, though, Bunty.

- You're pathetic!

- That you...

like to take it up the bum, Bunty.

- Who told you that nonsense?

- Eh...

- Are you ready, Little Frank?

- Little Frank.

Who's Little Frank?

I'm not talking any

more, Bunty, I've got...

- Is that you, Mum?

- Oh, it's my mum.

No, I'm not talking to dirty prostitutes

again, Mum. You can't have the phone...

Thank you, brothers.

That concludes the formal part of this

evening's proceedings and our meeting.

Let us now retire for

a moment of harmony.

- What made you join the force, Bruce?

- Police oppression, brother.

I'd witnessed far too many cases of it

in the mining community I grew up in.

And you wanted to stamp it out

from the inside?

- No, I wanted to be a part of it.

- You're a terror, Bruce.

Clifford Blades, a chartered

accountant and therefore a sad wanker.

Bladesey's not only the newest and

most gullible member of this Lodge,

he's also the wealthiest.

Ideal target practice for the games.

Same rules apply.

And that's why the Craft's been so good

for me, Bruce. Everyone's accepted.

Enough of that shite.

Are you getting any at home, Bladesey?

Well, that side of

things hasn't improved.

This crank caller

just won't stop phoning Bunty.

It's affecting her, you know...

Thing about women,

you have to shag them regularly.

You keep them f***ed, man,

they will do absolutely anything for you.

Actually, two things.

Well shod, well shagged.

And that's what you do

with your wife, Bruce?

Course it f***ing is.

See, these marriage counselling f***ing

spastics, they will tell you a load of shite.

The root of any marital problem

is always, always sexual.

If you're no' f***ing the woman

you're with, it opens this...

- Vacuum.

- ... vacuum, which sure as f***

some other c*nt is

gonna come and fill,

and fill with several inches of prime

Scottish beef, Brother Blades.

And, you see,

if she's no' doing the same for you,

you go and get it somewhere else,

just like that.

I must say, I'm looking forward

to our little trip to Hamburg.

- Me too, pal.

- Some nice museums.

Prostitutes.

Of all colours, shapes and sizes.

- SIinte.

- SIinte.

- Excuse me, Bruce. I have to spend a penny.

- Go for your life, pal. Don't fall in.

- Will it be the usual, Brother Robertson?

- Oh, yes, please, Hector.

I'll see you at my place

on the weekend then.

Okey-dokey.

F***ing pervert.

Ah, on your own tonight then,

Brother Robertson?

No, thankfully not, Brother Toal.

I just popped in to see Clifford Blades.

You've just missed him.

Well, aren't you and Brother Blades

becoming quite the bosom buddies?

- Oh, birds of a feather and all that.

- Talking of Brother Blades,

have those useless clowns from uniform found

this pervert who keeps phoning his wife?

- Regrettably not, sir, no.

- Spastics!

Aye.

Look, would you mind

overseeing it, Bruce?

I wouldn't normally ask

with something so trivial,

but we just can't afford

to be seen to be not taking care

of such a potentially important benefactor

to the lodge as Clifford Blades.

And what's good for the lodge

is good for the polis, eh?

And another little brownie point for

the promotion, Brother Robertson.

Hush-hush, Toal. Hush-hush.

Just you leave Mr and Mrs Blades

in my safe hands, OK, Brother Toal?

How can you just misplace 200?

If I find out there's

another woman involved, Clifford...

This is Bruce, the detective friend

I was telling you about, dear.

Well, well, Clifford!

You never told me you were hiding

such a beautiful specimen.

You are punching above

your weight, champ.

You're the one who's taking Clifford on

this Masons' weekend to Scarborough, right?

Sc...

Aye, I am taking him to Scarborough.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Bunty.

Please, to business.

I understand how unsettling

these prank calls must be to you,

but I would ask you to be brave.

I've dealt with this

kind of scum in the past

and I can tell you,

they're all mouth and no trousers.

However, slamming the phone down on him

is only going to encourage him, OK?

And if I know this guy like I think I

know this guy, he's gonna like that.

So I need you to indulge

him a little bit.

He'll soon come unstuck.

But your uniformed colleague

said not to encourage him.

Oh, aye. No, we tell the younger,

less experienced officers that, aye.

And it usually makes

the depravate stop.

However, if you're wanting

the man caught...

I want him caught all right.

I want that bastard to suffer!

Excellent.

Well, in that case,

I suggest you play along.

Tell him something about yourself.

What you like.

Up the stakes.

Let hunter become hunted.

We'll nail this slimy bastard

for you, Clifford, no danger.

Bunty, we're gonna get him.

I can promise you that.

Now, I want you to look after

that brave, brave woman.

Oh, I will, Bruce, I will.

I can't tell you how

grateful I am, Bruce.

Oh, you just thank

your hubby here.

Low friends in high

places, eh, Bladesey boy?

A quick word, sir?

Bruce. How goes the case?

- Aye, fairly cut and dried actually, Bob.

- Aye.

A well-known, nasty little mob have been

fingered by a willing informant, so it's...

New poster.

Just a case of gathering

the necessary evidence.

- Me and Gus are on surveillance.

- Good.

The political thing has died a death now

and the papers have got bored with it.

A wog's a wog for all that,

eh, Brother Robertson?

- You said it, Brother Toal.

- Your words, not mine.

Right, about my cycling

trip to Germany, sir.

Oh, I can't say I'm pulling handkerchiefs

out of my arse at the prospect

but I suppose a few days

won't put us too far behind.

What does Carole have to say about you

going away so close to Christmas?

Oh, her and Stacey are just looking

forward to their big presents.

I always bring them back something

nice, so there's never any problem.

- You're the boss at home, then, Robbo?

- Man of the f***ing house and all that.

Quite. OK...

Just make sure you brief

Amanda Drummond before you go.

Do you really think she's got the balls

to take over the reins in my absence?

Think I'd rather hand temporary control

over to Gus Bain if you don't mind.

It's only for a short while

and she needs the experience anyway.

- Mmm-hmm.

- Uh-huh.

How the f*** did she

ever get out of uniform?

By shagging Toal, that's how.

No!

See, every time a woman drops

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