Filth Page #7
"I'm the king of the castle!
Get down you, dirty rascal!"
Then you pushed him off.
No, I never. No, I f***ing never!
- Not an angry push...
- No, I didn't.
Just a brotherly shove.
Brotherly love, a brotherly shove.
Because wee Davie was better at everything
than his big brother, "the other laddie".
That's what they used
to say in the village.
"Davie Robertson and
the other laddie. "
You're still just "the
other laddie", aren't you?
You f*** off!
"F*** off", you shout,
as you push him down the slag pile.
He's at the bottom,
screaming for help
as the black stuff rushes down,
smothering your brother underneath.
No, I tried to save him.
Then the man you call father, crouching
beside the body of his real son,
"This thing killed him. This bastard
spawn of the devil killed my laddie.
"You are filth!"
No! No!
No, no...
What are you doing
in the women's toilets, Bruce?
F*** off, Drummond.
- You can say it's none of my business.
- It's none of your f***ing business!
What were you doing
in the women's toilets, Bruce?
Look, I'm sorry.
I'm just feeling a bit wrong
at the moment. OK?
OK, well, if you want to talk
about it, then I'm here.
Spare me your airy-fairy,
namby-pamby, care-in-the-community,
human-resources, left-wing bullshit.
Well, I'm just worried
about you, Bruce.
- What did you say?
- I said, I'm worried about you, Bruce.
Oh, right, I see.
What? Oh, don't flatter yourself.
I think you're a silly,
silly, little, little man.
You fancy me.
I have no interest in you, apart
from us having to work together.
- Just give in to your instincts, darling.
- Oh, God, you're pathetic.
- You're pathetic. You're an alcoholic.
- F*** off.
You stink.
Do you know what, Bruce?
You're the kind of sad case
that preys on weak, stupid women
own shattered ego!
What about Karen the other night
at the Christmas party?
She was wasted, Bruce.
Well, she shouldn't have
f***ing drunk then, should she?
She wanted a drink, so she had one.
She wanted a ride,
so she had one of them as well.
So, don't treat me
like a f***ing rapist!
Jesus Christ, what are you so
interested in her for anyway?
- Are you a lesbian?
- I'm not a bloody lesbian, Bruce.
I have a boyfriend
and he's far younger than you
and he's far more
intelligent than you
and he's far better endowed than you,
Mr Photocopier Enlargement.
What did you f***ing say?
Go on, f***ing hit me, Bruce!
Are you gonna hit me, Bruce? Yeah?
No.
Oh, my darling, I'm sorry.
You sicken me.
You repulse me.
Can I make that any f***ing plainer?
I wasn't gonna hurt you, you know?
I didn't mean it.
As your colleague...
and as a human being, I'm telling you,
Bruce, you've got some stuff to sort out.
OK? Then you might become
the sort of person
that you seem to imagine
yourself to be,
although Christ only
knows what that is.
I used to be good at
this job, Amanda.
I used to be a good person.
Yeah. I heard that.
- Have you got a wife, Bruce?
- Yeah.
Have you got any kids?
Stacey.
I think they've left me.
I think my family have left me.
I don't know how.
I can't remember why.
OK.
You see, there's
something wrong with me.
There's something
seriously wrong with me.
Have you spoken to anyone?
Have you been to see a doctor?
- Yeah.
- Yeah?
No.
I don't know. I don't know.
No, I'm in charge.
I'm in charge of me.
I'm in charge of this investigation and
don't you ever f***ing forget that.
OK, Bruce. You need to listen to me.
Can you hear me?
I'm really worried about you. I don't
think you're fit for work at the moment.
Just you go up there
and suck someone's cock
and stop playing the amateur f***ing
psychologist, you evil witch!
Hey, Robbo.
Are you holding a guy
by the name of Clifford Blades?
Do you ever get the impression
he was a pervert?
Just give me the f***ing keys!
- You piss-taking little fart!
- What's wrong, Bruce?
f***ing start! Didn't you?
It wasn't me.
You have to believe it wasn't me.
Don't make me punch your face
through your shoulders
and out through your f***ing arse,
you speccy wee fanny!
Why? Why did you drag
me into this, Cliff?
Why did you drag me into this with you?
You're supposed to be my mate.
I didn't. We are mates, Bruce.
You're my best friend, Bruce.
You're my best friend.
Why do you bully me, Bruce?
- What?
- Why do you do it?
Because...
Because I can't f***ing help myself.
Bruce! Bruce! Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!
Bruce! Bruce!
Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!
F***!
I tried to call you at work.
Where have you been?
- Bruce, Dougie's in hospital.
- And?
He tried to kill himself.
Slashed his wrists.
Couldn't take the humiliation
of that and getting suspended.
How's that my fault?
That's all your fault!
My God, this place f***ing stinks.
I just need you to f***ing leave!
- Come on.
- No, no, no.
- I wanna turn off the gas for you.
- Chrissie, don't. Chrissie.
- I wanna turn off the gas for you.
- Chrissie, I need you to leave!
Come on! I wanna turn off
the f***ing gas for you!
F***ing...
Come on, get f***ing hard, you silly
wee poof! Come on, get it in!
F*** me with that mouse's cock.
What's wrong?
You're crying like a wee laddie.
You're no fun any more, Bruce.
You know that?
I'm not well.
What's wrong with you, man?
I hear voices, Chrissie.
I see things, all the time.
Do you ever hear them?
What are you on about?
Whatever it is you're taking,
you wanna lay off it.
Life's cruel, Bruce. Life's cruel.
People ask me, "Carole, how do you and
Bruce keep the spice in your marriage?"
Well,
I tell them it's really simple.
- I'm just the ultimate tease.
- "I'm just the ultimate tease.
"Me and Bruce,
we're not that different.
"We know what we want
"We know how to get it.
"Like this promotion he's going for.
We both know he'll win.
"And when he does,
"the Robertson household is going
to be one big happy family again.
"I kid you not. "
You coming for a wee
ride, sweetheart?
I knew I'd seen you before.
The f***ing freak from the tunnel.
You are a sick fairy.
My husband is Detective
Sergeant Bruce Robertson.
We have to go
all the way with this pig.
You know what that means, Ocky?
Hey, hold on, hold on, hold on, right.
Wait a minute.
You can't waste a cop, man.
You never said you were gonna...
- F***.
- He saw us do the gook, for f***'s sake!
But dead c*nts tell no tales.
We can torch the place with the
pig in it. Or what's left of him.
Smokey bacon, man.
Get your f***ing hands off her stuff!
You f***ing die.
I want to hear you squeal,
like the f***ing pig you are.
Get f***ing out.
Don't you leave!
Don't you f***ing leave!
Don't you leave this f***ing room!
Don't you f***ing close that door!
F***!
Why didn't you arrest us
when you had the chance?
Scared they'd find out
you're a f***ing queer?
- Just you and me, Detective.
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"Filth" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/filth_8166>.
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