Killing Bono
I always knew I'd be famous.
Back at school,
if you'd have told me that four of us...
would become the biggest rock band
on the planet,
I'd have asked
who the other three were.
I know what you're thinking.
Everyone wants to be a rock star, right?
Well, this wasn't some vague dream,
this was real.
I had it all planned out.
Form a band.
Release a series
of ground-breaking albums.
Tour the world's greatest stadiums.
Pull off the biggest rock and roll
invasion of America since the Beatles.
This life that I had going on
inside my head.
It wasn't my life at all.
It never was. It was his.
He rises, I fall.
He just gets bigger and better.
I suck up all the shite luck
that never goes his way.
Hey, is that the... It is!
No!
Get out of the way.
You out of the way, now there. Go on.
I always knew I'd be famous.
What you brought that thing in for?
You'll have someone's eye out with that.
- I've got a lesson with Mr. Rowland.
- What, that fogey old fart?
What's he gonna teach you,
a punk rock version of "Danny Boy"?
Yeah, maybe.
Hey, Paul.
Paul, what's the craic?
Larry's putting a band together.
Oh, great.
- Who is Larry?
- Larry Mullen, two years below.
- Oh, nice axe, man.
- Oh, cheers.
Yeah, he saved all his pocket money
for three years,
- he's so rock and roll, aren't ya?
- Oh, yeah.
You should come and try out.
- Hey, they need a singer.
- You're looking at him.
You? It's bad enough having to
stand next to you in choir practice
singing like you've lost a bollock.
Besides, you... you really don't much
look like a front man, you know?
Oh, yeah?
What's a front man look like?
Yeah?
- Like me!
- Oh.
Sorry, Neil. Nice try.
But it's my gig.
There's plenty more bands out there.
See you on Top of the Pops, boys.
- G's my favourite key.
- Oh, sorry, yeah.
Oh, Jesus, lads. Make some space.
Mick Jagger didn't have to deal
with a bass in his face
and a drum kit up his arse.
Made it myself.
I got the design from a mag.
What, was it a bird spotting mag,
was it?
It looks like a duck
with a stick up its arse.
Do you really need a guitar as well?
You know you can't play it.
You can talk.
Jesus Christ, can nobody
play their instruments here?
Will you relax, Larry?
We've got Dave.
Give us a shot at yours, then.
I'll show you what it can do.
- Yeah, OK. Here.
- Just for...
OK. One, two.
One, two. One, two.
OK, come on, guys. Come on.
Can we just play something together?
- You know, at the same time, all right?
- OK, right. Whoa, whoa.
What do we know?
Um...
Do we know anything?
David Bowie, yeah?
- Yeah.
- Anyone heard the Ramones?
- Yeah, was that...
- The Clash?
Or how about Thin Lizzy?
Thin Lizzy?
- Yeah, yeah.
- Sex Pistols and Dire Straits.
OK, just forget I said that.
Right, lads, f*** it.
I've got it, right?
That's Iggy. I know that.
That's Iggy. Let's do it, OK?
One, two. One, two, three, four.
# Gimme some skin
Try to give me some skin
Whoo!
Yeah!
# My girlfriend, she got soul
Sucks all night on Lord A**hole
# She puts me right up her ass
She shoots speed, she smokes grass
# But I don't mind
# If your mind is gone
If you want my body
# Come on, baby
Now give me some skin #
Two chips, please.
Man, she was
definitely eyeing you up.
Every girl in school is acting like
you're made out of Mars bars.
That's band life for you, man.
Well, dip me in rock and roll
and throw me to the girls.
How's it going, anyway?
Apart from becoming
an overnight fanny magnet.
It's going great, you know? I can
finally see it all coming together.
We want Ivan.
What?
We want your brother on rhythm guitar.
Well, you can't have him.
On rhythm guitar or anywhere.
He's with me. Ivan's the lead guitar
and I head up the band.
- You've got a band?
- Yeah.
What are you called?
What are we called?
We're... we're called The, uh...
...Undertakers.
- The, Uh, Undertakers?
Yes.
Well, good on yous.
- You've certainly got the mouth for it.
- F*** off.
And I can see your face on the posters.
Yeah, you too.
That's if the teeny boppers go in
for that mop-haired, leaping gnome
sort of thing.
Listen, so I just tell Ivan straight
he didn't get in, yeah?
No, no. Leave it with me.
He's my brother.
You don't have to say a word, OK?
Yeah.
Yeah, sure.
Listen...
...we're doing a gig next month.
Maybe you boys should support us?
Maybe you should support us.
Maybe we should support each other.
Equal billing. Shoulder to shoulder.
- Your band and mine, brother.
- Taking on the world together!
So, have yous got a name yet?
What about the McCormick Brothers?
That's not very punk, is it, Dad?
We'd sound like a folk band.
We'd have to grow beards
and live in a commune.
We're called The Undertakers,
Mr. McCormick.
Yeah, Frankie is Frankie Corpse.
Ivan, is Ivan Axe.
I'm Eric Cadaver.
No. You're still Hopeless Eric.
And Kev over there is Kevin Carcass.
I wanted to be called Jonny Durex,
but I was afraid it'd upset me ma.
She's gotta know what a Durex is, son,
or you wouldn't be here.
- What's a Durex?
- I'll tell you later.
Six years later.
You'll be needing
punk hair-dos.
I'll do them for you. No point
in wasting money at the barbers.
Yeah, but we can do without
all that swearing... and the vomit.
We've our first gig next week. It's with
Paul's lot, they're called The Hype.
Oh, yeah, the band I almost joined.
Next week,
we'll blow them off the stage.
And then you'll be glad
you stuck with your big brother.
It's lovely to see
the two of you working together.
It's just a different sound.
Yeah, yeah.
It's a whole new quality, it's great.
Hey, lads. What's going on?
Oh, Paul was just talking to me
about second guitar.
Was he?
And what was he saying?
We decided we don't need one, so...
- No hard feelings, hey, Ivan?
- No, you're grand.
Course not.
He plays lead for The Undertakers now.
Never mind second guitar.
Why are we second billing?
Hey? You said we'd be equal.
Well, we're both on the banner.
The Hype and The Undertakers.
- Are we?
- Well, look at it this way.
It gives you a chance
to steal our thunder.
- That's Neil McCormick?
- Yeah, that's him there.
OK, guys,
you're the support act, right?
So, four songs, then clear the way
for the headliners.
What? Who put him in charge?
Who's that? Who are you?
Oh, this is Paul McGuinness,
our manager.
Look, man, I've gotta go and do
a sound check here, yeah?
One, two. One, two.
One, two. Check.
Yous look like you're bricking it.
- All right, Plugger?
- Fifty P a pop, right?
Purple ones are uppers.
Green ones are downers.
I don't know
what the white ones are for,
but you shouldn't take them
with alcohol.
What are you, Plugger?
Their dealer?
- I just get paid to hump the gear.
- One, two. One, two. One, two.
- Well, a manager and a roadie!
- Check. One, two.
One, two. One, two.
One, two. Perfect.
# Oh!
# Why don't you ask them
# What they expect from you?
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