Looking for Eric Page #7

Yes. Yeah, I'd like that, Eric.

I must warn you.

I'm a vegetarian now, though.

Okay. Yeah, no problem.

- That's great. Thanks, Eric.

- See ya. Bye.

Bye. Bye.

Yes! F***ing hell.

Sh*t.

Did you know about this?

Tell me the truth now, Jess.

I f***ing mean it this time.

Honestly, Dad, I don't know.

Jesus Christ. What the f***

is going on in me own house?

I don't know, Dad.

Listen, maybe it's fake.

It's not f***ing fake, is it?

That twat in the black car.

Who the f*** is he, Jess?

Zac.

He's a real hard case.

And he's done time.

He's clever, yeah?

But he's f***ing mad.

Well, when did it start?

Why the f*** didn't you tell me?

- Well, I did try and tell you, but...

- But f***ing what?

It seems like you don't care.

F***!

You looking for this?

Pass that thing here.

Thing? It's a f***ing gun, Ryan.

What are you doing in my room? It's none

of your f***ing business. Pass it.

This is my house!

It is my f***ing business!

Eric, you don't know what's

going on. Just give it to me.

Well, you better f***ing tell me then.

If I don't get that to him, yeah?

I'm in the sh*t. We all are.

You better go and tell him to f*** off.

Or I will, all right?

You're not f***ing having it, Ryan.

F*** off!

Give me the f***ing gun, Eric!

Give me the f***ing gun, Eric!

Bollocks!

- You're going f***ing nowhere.

- Get off me!

You're going f***ing nowhere.

- F***ing nowhere.

- What you doing? Give it!

No. F*** off. Bastard.

You f***ing stupid little prick!

- Dad, are you all right?

- I'm fine. Sh*t. Bastard.

Look at your head.

You're covered in blood.

Oh, sh*t.

F***. I'm all right, I'm all right.

Are you sure, Dad?

Right.

Listen. I'll ring Meatballs, right?

He said I could use his car.

Get round to his house,

get the f***ing keys off him,

get back here as quick as you can.

Dad, I'm not leaving you like this.

Just go on. I can't go round.

If Meatballs sees this, he'll freak.

Go on. Jess, I'll be all right.

- Dad, I'll be quick, yeah?

- Yeah, quick as you can, lad.

F***.

Oh, God, this is like looking

for a needle in a haystack,

Jess, we could be here all night.

I know, Dad, but...

What's he saying?

Everyone's saying,

no, they haven't seen him.

Oh, sh*t.

- Well?

- Same again.

Have you seen this guy?

He's called Ryan, yeah.

And he's about 19.

And he's wearing a blue top.

What?

- What's up?

- Dad, there's been a shooting.

- For f***'s sake.

- At the pool club on Back Turner Street.

F***, man,

don't say he's been shot.

- Go, Dad.

- Or f***ing shot someone.

Well, he hasn't, has he?

'Cause he's wearing a bullet-proof.

- He's what?

- Well, didn't you see it before?

A f***ing bullet-proof vest?

Are you kiddin' me?

I thought you knew.

How am I supposed to know he's got...

For f***'s sake, Jess.

Right, it's the next left here.

- For f***'s sake.

- What's going on here?

- Look at this, for f***'s sake, man.

- That's the club there.

There's a f***ing ambulance there

as well.

Try and have a f***ing look.

There's someone going in

the f***ing ambulance, man.

- I can't see, Dad.

- Can you see owt, Jess?

- I can't see anything.

- F***ing have a look.

For f***'s sake.

I can't see him. I can't see him, Dad.

There's no-one in

the f***ing ambulance yet.

I can't see anything.

No one's there.

The f***ing copper's

waving me on, for f***'s sake.

- They're armed police!

- Can you see owt?

All right. F***ing hell,

they're tooled up to f***, man.

What the f*** is going on, Ryan?

Don't know what to do, Eric.

- You shot someone?

- No.

First he told me it was just a fake.

Then it was only to defend himself.

I was just hiding it.

Just hiding it?

Someone else just pulls the trigger.

And some kid just gets

his head blown off.

I didn't think that were gonna happen.

Zac asked me to do it as

a favour just for one night.

Did he pay ya?

Just sort of like brought me

to the games. Nightclubs.

Gave me 200. After a week,

I said, I told him,

"I don't wanna look after it any more. "

But he just shook his head

and started laughing.

Why doesn't he hold it?

It's back to prison if he gets caught.

But he needs it close.

And he can get it

from me in five minutes.

And if you get caught?

I get five years, Eric, minimum.

F***, Ryan! That's five years

out your life, you f***ing prick!

He shot someone.

- A drug dealer?

- No.

You've got no idea, Eric.

Someone insulted him at the club.

You're telling me he shot someone

because he insulted him?

Yeah.

Jesus f***ing Christ.

- Did he kill him?

- No.

He shot him in the back. He'll live.

Right, that's it. We're going

to the cops, right f***ing now!

- Come on! Cops, now!

- No. No. No. You can't, Eric.

- Eric!

- Why the f*** not?

We just go to the cops

and tell 'em everything.

No. Listen to me. You can't.

They said they'd get Jess.

Trust me. They've done it before.

I've heard them talking.

Please, Eric, listen to me.

If we go to the coppers, yeah,

they'll f***ing set the dogs on Jess.

They'll rip his f***ing face apart.

F***'s sake.

F***ing... What the f***'s going on?

I can't f***ing believe it.

If I get off, they get Jess.

That's how...

That's how it f***ing works,

do you know what I mean?

I've got to speak to him.

You can't speak to him.

He's not like you or your mates.

They don't give a f***.

But we can't f***ing live like this.

We can't go to the cops.

You can't run off.

I've gotta find him, ain't I?

No, you can't. Eric, listen.

Promise me, you won't.

- Right, give me his number.

- No.

- Give me his number.

- No, you don't...

Ryan, give me his f***ing number or

I'll wash me hands of ya, period!

F***ing number, now.

F*** me. How are you, Jack?

I'm all right. Name's Eric.

Jack. Jack Nicholson. One Flew Over

The Cuckoo's Nest and all that sh*t.

Heard you've been having a bit of

a bad time of it recently, ain't ya?

In with the fruitcakes

and the loonies and all that.

Nasty rumours them, Jack.

Listen. You've gotta

take this back, right.

I haven't seen it.

I won't say anything.

Got to? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I can't f***ing...

You know, I can't touch that now.

More germs than a sailor's cock them

things, you know what I mean?

Put it away.

- D'you know my nickname?

- No.

The Prophet.

I can sense the future, me.

And I sense that

you're gonna f*** off home

with your tail

between your f***ing legs.

Up the carpet, up the floorboard

and you're gonna put that back.

Yes, yeah, you f***ing are.

I can't. Listen.

If you don't want it,

right, I'll just throw it away,

and that's the end of it.

- Throw it away, will ya?

- Yeah.

Here are, Buzz.

Come on, Buzz, let's have ya.

Oh, for f***'s sake. F*** off.

I'm f***ing kidding.

- Get him. Go on. Go on, boy.

- Let me go, you bastards!

- Made your mind up?

- F***ing have him.

- Go on. Get him, boy.

- F*** off.

Let me go, you bastards.

- What d'you wanna do, Jack?

- Go on, boy.

F*** off. Get it out.

Bite him! Bite the bastard! Get him!

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