Gangster No. 1 Page #6

Baby Freddie. Spastic.

She's barren, probably, all dried up.

But you could adopt.

What do you want?

The shoes, is it?

The handmade f***ing shoes?

Here.

They're yours. Have them.

Take them. They're yours.

The tiepin? Oh, you like the tiepin?

F*** me, it's even got your initials

on it. Take it! Here, it's yours!

- You're mad.

- No, it's you.

You drive me f***ing nuts, you do.

I don't want your flat...

...I don't want your shoes,

and I don't want your f***ing tiepin.

That Freddie's dead.

What is it with you? I mean...

...where you coming from?

Explain it to me, because I'd like

to know. Really, I want to know.

What have you got that I haven't got?

I done better than you.

I'm the better man.

Wasn't me who spent

f*** knows how long inside.

F***ing professor.

What?

You think I wouldn't kill you?

Do you think that?

Just because it's you.

Is that what you think?

Oh, I can kill somebody. It's easy.

It's easy to kill somebody.

It's nothing.

I avenged you.

I didn't want to kill Lennie Taylor.

I did not want to kill Lennie Taylor.

I didn't enjoy it.

Had to be done.

Somebody had to do it.

Yeah.

Karen spent the past 30 years telling

me the whole thing stank of you.

That b*tch.

Take it.

Take it.

Pick it up.

There it is. Pick it up.

Shoot me.

Shoot me! Shoot me, you c*nt!

Who do you think you are?

Pathetic.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah, I was.

I was vain.

I was a prat.

Handsome Freddie Mays,

"Butcher of Mayfair."

What a load of old cobblers.

Who'd want to be Freddie Mays?

- F*** off.

- You're a nutter.

Well, I ain't going away,

so you may as well kill me.

Come on! Kill me! Come on!

For old time's sake.

Down memory lane and all that.

I was there.

"Get your hands off her!"

"Karen!"

"Maxie, please, no!

Not the girl! Not the girl! No!"

Sound familiar? Huh?

You, crawling around

in your own blood.

Pathetic. Hilarious.

Maxie's got his knife out.

No!

Come on, Freddie. Come on.

Maxie with his blade

digging at her flesh.

Ripping that lovely throat.

- Karen!

- No!

And you going:

"Shoot me, shoot me," like a sick cow.

Come on, Freddie.

Come on.

Come on, Freddie, two more yards.

What?

What's that she's saying?

Love you.

Love you.

What's that?

"I love you, Freddie.

I love you.

I love you, Freddie. I love you..."

What?

Does she still love you?

With your pruney bollocks

and your old bird's hair?

Handsome Freddie Mays.

How could she still love you?

Seeing what you are?

I mean, what are you? A c*nt?

What are you? Milky tea?

Come on, Romeo.

Give her a kiss.

Yeah, work the old magic.

Come on, Freddie.

Come on, my son.

Shoot me.

Shoot me!

Kill me!

Shoot me!

I'm just an old man in a crap suit.

I like it that way.

B*tch!

One day I'll catch up with you.

You want a war?

I'll give you a f***ing war,

one arm tied behind me back.

I'd shoot you.

Blow you to kingdom come.

They'll need a dustpan and brush...

...to scrape you off the walls.

Make mincemeat out of you.

Pie and mash. Puddles of blood.

I'll leave you lying there...

...the rotten lot of you.

Calling me a c*nt.

Calling me a c*nt.

Calling me a c*nt.

You c*nt!

I'll f***ing kick you.

I'll kick f*** out of you.

I'll kick you to f***. F*** you!

Rip your face off.

I'll f***ing...

I'll f***ing...

...burn you.

Freddie Mays.

Freddie Mays.

I don't need you, Freddie.

Who am I?

I'm Superman!

King-f***ing-Kong!

I can pick you up

and throw you a million miles!

I'm number one.

Number-f***ing-one.

I'm number one.

Number-f***ing-one!

Number one!

Number one! Number one!

Number one!

Number one! Number one!

Number-f***ing-one!

I'm number one.

F*** you!

My God!

Number one.

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