Kes Page #3

# He grew a great big marrow

for the little flower show

# He showed it to a lady

who lived just along the way

# And when she saw the size of it

he heard the lady say

# Ooohhh!

# What a beauty!

# Oh, I've never seen one

as big as that before

# Ooohhh!

# What a whopper!

# lt must be 18 inches long or more

# It's such a lovely colour,

it's nice and round and fat

# Whoever thought a marrow

could grow as big as that?

# Ooohhh!

# Oh, what a beauty

# I've never seen one as big as it before

Billy, are tha asleep?

Bleedin' things.

Now, Billy!

- Give over.

- Billy!

Help me get these bleedin' trousers off.

Come on! Don't be all bleedin' night.

I'm fed up with this bloody game.

It's every Saturday night alike.

Don't help, will tha?

Get back to sleep, yer... pig.

Hog. Sow.

Yer drunken bastard.

Tha dun't like bein' called a bastard,

does tha? Yer bastard!

Yer pig.

Pig.

Hog.

Sow.

Drunken... bastard.

Bastard. Bastard.

Drunken... pig.

Pig.

Billy! Billy!

"Three good meals a day

I'll give him for about a fortnight."

"lf a piece of meat held between

the finger and thumb of the gloved hand

is offered to the hawk, it will probably

bend down and pull at it with its beak."

C'mon.

"As soon as the hawk

will come a leash length indoors,

she may be tried off a fence

or gatepost out of doors."

"lt is quite likely that although she was

coming to the fist promptly indoors,

she will now refuse to come at all."

"She will stand looking around her and

ignoring the meat and fist in front of her."

"When she will come

a leash length outside,

she can be called greater distances

by means of a creance,

a long cord which is attached

to the hawk to prevent her escaping."

"With luck,

she will not attempt to fly away."

Come on, then.

Kes! Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck.

Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck. Come on, lass.

Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck.

Come on, Kes! Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck.

Come on, Kes! Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck.

Come on, then. Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck.

Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck. Come on, Kes.

(theme from "Grandstand")

Come on, boys, get ready!

Get ready now, you.

Skiving again, Guthrie.

No, sir. Mr Farthing

has been talking to me.

I'll bet that was stimulating

for him, wasn't it, lad?

- What does that mean, sir?

- The conversation. What do you think?

Does it mean "stimulate", sir?

Stimulating, you fool!

S-t-i-m-i-l-a-t-i-n-g. Stimulating.

Come on, get ready.

You're two weeks late already.

You three, get down,

before I come and put yer down.

Casper, what d'you think you're doing?

Get down. Why aren't you changed?

- I've no kit, sir.

- Casper, you make me sick.

Every lesson it's the same old story,

"Please, sir, I've no kit, sir."

Every lesson for four years, you've

begged, borrowed, skived and scrounged.

Why is it, Casper, when all this lot

can provide kit, you can't?

Don't know. Me mam says

it's a waste of money now I'm leavin'.

You haven't been leaving

the past four years, have you?

No, sir.

- Use your spending money.

- Don't like football, sir.

- What's that got to do with it, Casper?

- Don't know.

- Anyway, I don't get enough.

- Get a job, then, lad. Get a job.

- I've got one, sir.

- They pay you, don't they?

Yeah, but I have to give it to me mam.

I'm payin' me fines, like...

You should keep out of trouble, lad!

Keep out of trouble.

- I haven't bin in trouble since last time.

- I'll get you some kit, Casper.

- Tha's had it now, Casper.

- Shut thi mouth!

Right, Casper. Get into those.

- They'll not fit me.

- You can get into them, can't you?

Yes, sir.

They'll keep your cobblers warm, Casper.

- Take your vest and underpants off.

- Don't wear 'em, sir.

Casper, tuck 'em in.

Thi privates are showin'.

The muscleman o' t'year!

- He's just come back from Biafra.

- Pull them up, Casper!

- Pull them up!

- Like that, sir?

Pull them down, Casper.

You're too daft to laugh at.

Right. They'll do there.

You lot, come on, get changed.

Wasted enough time already.

I'll give you a sample

of my footballing skills.

A rare delight.

Watch yourself, Casper!

I won't tell you again, Crossland!

Come on, move.

Off that goal post!

Off that goal post.

I'll be up there in a minute!

Come here, Tibbut.

We'll pick two teams. You're the captain.

Right, line up on the halfway line, quickly.

- I'll have first pick. Paget.

- That's not fair. You'll get t'best players.

D'you wanna play football,

or d'you wanna do some maths?

Paget, then. Come here.

- Speed.

- Walker.

- Clark.

- Crossland.

- Kelsey.

- Rowe.

Er... Clegg.

Bloody hell, I'm frozen already.

- Joyce.

- Birkinshaw.

- Ryder.

- Parker.

- Norton.

- Come on, Parker.

Casper, I've got to have yer. Come on.

Don't act the goat.

Come on, put 'em round your waist.

Now.

Right, we'll play with the wind,

downhill, this way.

Paget, you're inside right. Come on.

- Who are you today, sir? Liverpool?

- Don't you know your club colours?

- Manchester United, this.

- Are you playing Denis Law, striker?

No. Charlton today, lad.

All over the field. Too cold for striker.

Charlton's not as quick

ont' turn as Law, is he?

- You tryin' to tell me about football?

- No. l...

You trying to tell me? Anyway,

Denis Law's in the wash this week.

- Nobody's in goal, sir.

- No goalie, sir.

- Who's in the goals?

- Casper.

- Casper, what position are you playing?

- Don't know, sir. lnside left?

How can you be inside left

back there, idiot? In the goals.

- I can't...

- Now's your chance to learn. In the goals.

Quick about it.

- We're Manchester United. Who are you?

- Spurs, then there's no clash of colours.

Right, then, it's Manchester United versus

Spurs in this cup tie here at Old Trafford.

And it's the fair-haired,

slightly balding Charlton to kick off.

Come on, Speed.

What you playin' at, lad?

Yer should be on the move, lad.

lt was at yer feet!

Cross it, Ryder. Quickly.

Where's t'rest of my team?

Come on, quickly, Casper. I've never

seen such slack work in my life.

- What's that for, sir?

- Slack work, lad. Slack work.

Hit that ball up the field, Parker.

I have to keep this shirt on after.

Cross the ball!

And Charlton goes through, and...

Oh, never! Never!

- Penalty!

- Never.

Who do you think you are? Bremner?

- Penalty.

- No, it weren't, sir!

Outside that semicircle.

- Shall I take it, sir?

- I take the penalties on this team.

No one moves till this ball's kicked.

Just watch this, Guthrie. Right, Clegg?

You moved. You moved. Put it back.

Penalty.

Behind the 18-yard line.

Tha better save it, Cleggy!

Else I'll drop tha.

- He moved!

- I didn't move, sir.

The referee's decision is final.

- You should have done it the first time.

- And that, boys, is how to take a penalty.

Look one way and kick the other.

Come on, Tibbut, lad.

And Bobby Charlton has

equalised for Manchester United,

and the score is one goal each.

That fat twat!

He wants bleedin' milkin'. That big fat git!

What did you say? What did you say?

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