Inbred Page #6

any more trouble okay?

Nor I. Prove it.

Well.

Greg, come over here.

You all right?

I'm pretty good.

Well?

It's safe, Jim.

- You found it.

- Away, lads. It'll be alright.

They are down here.

Greg, on with you.

What the bloody hell has

been going on down here?

Stay there. No closer.

Don't you dare f***ing move!

Careful, son. A lot of broken

glass. You'll cut yourself.

Put your weapons down.

Been having a bit of a

shindig down here, don't ya?

Not me.

The party just beginning.

Now put your weapons down.

Podge, put it down.

Put it down.

I know what you all are thinking.

Would I kill myself?

I don't know.

Would you?

You know how they gamble?

Well, we lost a

little bit shape lately.

Yeah? But its about to

get more f***ing worse.

Time to turn on the heat.

- Oh f***!

- You're cold lad?

I don't understand me.

Alcohol should burn.

No. No, no. That's

watered down piss, lad.

Wouldn't give it to me

missus, God rest her soul.

We make a good brew bucket

in the mill up there. Ain't it a treat.

F***!

Come on!

Get on, Podge.

Come on son, let's

get this sorted out.

F*** you!

F*** you, c*nt!

F***er!

No! No!

No! Please!

- What are the odds?

- The trap's favourite. Evens.

Pit 3 to 1.

Tripwire, 7 to 1.

My mine's outsider.

15 to 1.

- 10 on land mine.

- You throwing it away again, Jim.

No! No!

F***ing bugger.

About the time me luck changed.

- Oh well. A pint?

- Alright!

Let me tell thee all,

the fate that did befall...

Fi fy fi fy go.

When outsiders came

and tried to stake a claim ...

Fi fy fi fy go.

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