Kajaki Page #7

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I'm getting you out of this gash pit.

Do you hear me?

And it's not gonna be,

what is it, Sofia, f***ing Alexander

it'll be f***ing Smudge Junior,

or Smudgella.

And I'll tell you something else, mush,

you're gonna f***ing make selection and all.

You're gonna be the first f***ing one-legged,

bunny-hopping badge there's ever been, alright?

So none of this f***ing

platform four, self-pity f***ing bullshit.

We spent too much BS getting you this far.

We haven't given up on you, the least

you could do is not give up on us, you c*nt.

Jesus, Smudge, easy on.

'Gash pit'.

- Shut the f*** up.

F***ing beautiful.

PEARSON SINGS UNINTELLIGIBLY

BARLOW:

Sh*t. Tug, it still f***ing hurts.

The morphine'll work, pal.

You just got to give it time.

It's been a f***ing hour, man.

It's been half an hour, Ken.

Let me tell you something, Ken.

The more you shout, the faster

your heartbeat, the quicker you'll bleed out.

Alright, so it's for your own good, and ours,

just shut your f***ing jimmy, alright.

OK, OK.

Alright, Mark, I'm just gonna

have another look at this, yeah?

It's gonna f***ing hurt so bite down, mate.

OK.

MARK GROANS:

Right, all of you. Just f***ing...

...ignore this next bit, yeah,

ignore what I f***ing say.

Jay, Smudge. I'm gonna talk sh*t

for a bit to keep things moving, alright?

Just f***ing... everyone

f***ing ignore what I say, OK?

Right, listen to me, you pricks!

We've been waiting for this

chopper for three f***ing hours.

And if it don't come soon, and I'm talking now,

people are gonna start dying down here.

Minutes, alright,

that's what we've f***ing got.

You have to f***ing sort it out!

C... cas evac. How long?

Just gonna catch forty winks, lads.

Stu.

- While Cathy gets her nails done.

No f***ing Kraut's getting this deck chair off me.

- Stu, don't go to sleep, man.

Unless they want a f***ing set to...

Stu, you're talking sh*t, pal.

- I'm up, I'm up.

Sorry, man.

F***. I'm back in the room, lads.

I'm back in the room.

F***. Hey, lads.

I'd kill anybody right now

for a cold tin of brew, so is.

That's it, mate.

Cheerful f***ing thoughts.

Mark, you're getting married, so I hear.

- Hmm. Aye. November.

Just as well lads,

think my wanking days are over.

Might need to get my suit

re-measured though.

Think she can f***ing recognise me?

Course she f***ing will.

Mark?

- Hm. Aye?

You gonna, you gonna

have a big piss-up afters?

Oh, you bet you. Er,

Minto Hotel. Bells and whistles.

Yeah?

If we get out of this, you,

you lads are all coming, yeah.

Cash bar?

- F*** you.

F***ing cash bar.

F***ing arse.

Free bar, f***, free bar.

Ah, f***ing hell. That's diamond.

I'm gonna f***ing go all out.

Aye?

I... I haven't been legless

since February.

PEARSON:
You don't need to f***ing worry

about that anymore, do you, Barlow?

Ah, I'm gonna be f***ing

legless every night, now.

PEARSON:

Ken Barlow.

Hey, lads. I just realised, we don't need

to worry about the third mine anymore.

Good old Ken's f***ing

found it for us. Cheers Ken!

Always getting dicked, mate.

- MARK:
The really funny thing is boys...

...they didn't get f***ing planted here,

they all just washed off the hill

and down to the river beds.

There could be f***ing hundreds of them...

All around here. All around us.

PEARSON:

Great place for a f***ing bimble, lads.

Quick snipe,

then it's tea and f***ing medals.

Cas evac, ten minutes.

HALE:

Um...

what's his name...

f***ing, um, Jeffery Dahmer?

SMUDGE:

No. Two more.

HALE:

Jack the Ripper.

SMUDGE:

No. Last guess, make it a good one.

Come on, give me, give me some more...

- Eh? What did you say? 'Rules is rules, ' Stu.

I just had my f***ing leg blown off, mate.

Is that how it's gonna be now?

'Oh, my poor leg. Oi, lend us a quid, Smudge. '

Alright, f*** off.

Hannibal Lector?

- Nah.

Let's call it quits.

Harold Shipman.

Harold f***ing who?

Harold Shipman, the doctor of death.

No, I've never heard of him.

Of course you have. He killed, like,

two-hundred people, maybe more.

He's not, like, f***ing world famous, is he?

- He's from your neck of the woods.

You know exactly who I'm talking about.

Well, there's not a f***ing plaque to him.

- He's up there. You'd be surprised.

We're never getting out of here.

HALE:

I reckon you made him up.

SNOOP:

Ten minutes.

Kenneth Arthur Barlow.

Hey, Ken!

It still f***ing hurts.

- Yeah, that's good, mucker.

If it's hurting it means

you're alive, mate. Alright?

Stu.

Stu, punch your card.

My camera...

- ... F***ing camera, pal.

I need more f***ing morphine.

You take the pain, Stu.

You're a big lad, you'll be alright.

Mark?

No f***ing snoozing, boys, yeah?

Prosser? You with us?

- Yeah.

Y... yeah. Yeah.

Keep talking to me, Prosser.

Talk about what?

You tell me, pal.

We could talk about the weather.

Short, f***ing conversation.

T... tell you what, I'm trying to think

if I've had worse birthdays than this.

And I've had some sh*t ones.

When I was eight, my...

mum and dad clean out f***ing forgot.

All day long I was thinking

they're just pretending.

They're gonna spring this monster

f***ing surprise on me.

Even when I'm having my tea

in the bath

getting into f***ing bed...

I'm thinking, 'Oh these guys are good. '

Then they shut the door,

turned out the lights

and that was it.

I cried like a burst f***ing drain.

Then they came back in though, yeah?

- No.

No. They f***ing forgot.

But this is shitter.

Well, we can do something

about that, can't we boys?

Stu.

Ken, Mark.

Happy birthday to you!

Right, come on boys, f***ing loud, Stu.

Happy birthday to you!

Louder!

Happy birthday, David Prosser,

happy birthday to you!

One more time, boys, loud.

Nice and loud, let him hear you.

Happy birthday to you!

Ken, let's hear you.

- OK.

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday, David Prosser,

happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you. Happy bir...

MARK:

Tug. Stay on f***ing target, man.

My leg still f***ing hurts.

Tug, this f***ing morphine isn't working.

There ain't no more, Ken.

Tug.

SLURRED:

Tug, give me another stick.

MARK:

Don't you f***ing drop.

Just f***ing give it me, pal.

Don't you drop, Stu.

Don't you dare f***ing drop.

You hang in there, mate.

You f***ing hear me?

We're 3 Para and we're going

to get through this together.

We are 3 f***ing Para.

Remember the f***ing history, boys.

Arnhem, Mount Longdon.

F***ing Kajaki, now.

We are 3 f***ing Para.

Don't you dare f***ing drop.

We are 3 f***ing Para.

Utrinque Paratus.

' Ready for f***ing anything'.

You f***ing hear me?

BARLOW SINGS:

Oh, Lancashire is wonderful!

Oh, Lancashire is wonderful!

It's full of tits

fanny and Wanderers.

Oh Lancashire is wonderful...

Water?

What?

- Water.

There we go.

That's it, pal.

OK?

- I'm good. I'm finished. F***ing...

it's disgusting, man.

Hey, give us a minute, man. I think I've got

a bottle of champagne in the f***ing bag.

Looks like you're out of luck, mate.

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