Made In Britain Page #5

aren't we, Trevor? Come on, let's go.

- What happened?

- I'll tell you.

Trevor!

I don't have to do this, Trevor.

I don't have to do it.

Now, you let me down...

...l'll kill you. With help, that is.

I'll get the chef and some of

the biggest lads I can find...

...and Wankers United will bring you

down here and, together...

...collectively...

...we'll duff you up.

All right?

Great!

Sh*t! Shitty car!

Sh*t!

F*** it!

You were up against professionals.

Nearly all those other chaps,

they're professionals.

Men twice your age.

Isn't that right, Leroy? Mm?

- Yeah, yeah.

- That last race... like the M1 in a fog!

Look at the time!

Lie-in tomorrow. Hey, do you want

some fish and chips, Leroy?

No. No, thanks.

I had a couple of dogs at the track.

If you want to join the project, Trevor,

I'll fix it. Bloody try, anyway.

- You're in now, aren't you, Leroy?

- Yeah.

You could race on a regular basis.

Can't be bad, can it? Join a team.

You wouldn't have to nick cars

any more, you'd get 'em for free!

I know they're free when you nick 'em,

but that's not the point!

The police donate cars to the project.

Stolen cars.

They're not ones they've stolen!

Unclaimed vehicles.

Er, do you want any

fish and chips, Trevor?

That's funny. Can't find my keys.

Nah, not there. Lost 'em, dropped 'em...

No, don't!

Too late.

Damn! Now we'll have Hope

or Hopkins on our necks.

Heap of f***in' tin, that motor.

It just died on me.

Mm.

Now, I've got a set of dupes somewhere.

It's always best with keys.

Oh, here we go!

- Hello, Ray.

- What's going on?

They've been on a project race.

Sorry to disturb you.

- I don't know about this.

- Get in, Trevor. Leroy.

- Nobody tells me a thing!

- It's in the register. You should look!

As far as I'm concerned,

this door's locked at 10.30pm!

I'm well aware of that!

Oi!

Oi!

Your case conference

coming up, is it, eh?

What?

Watch your lip. Watch your f***in' step.

Get your hands off your cock.

This one's got a little bit too much

to say for himself, little f***er!

Look what I got!

Shut it. Shut it.

Shut it!

- What's your name?

- Errol.

- Other one, prat.

- Duprey.

- Do what?

- D-U-P-R-E-Y.

All these keys. Who needs 'em, eh?

- How did you get all them?

- Clive, the wanker. He dropped 'em.

- Where?

- On the floor.

They got you here, you little wanker.

Everything these f***ers

have ever said about you.

- For my case conference?

- For your f***in' execution.

That's your school, look.

"Educational

welfare officer's report."

"Confidential report to juvenile court.

Subject:
L Duprey."

"End of term clinic report."

"Head of Year report."

"Record of school offences: Arguing

with a teacher, disrupting assembly."

"Kicked football into staff face."

He kicked me.

"Racist remarks." F***in' hell!

"Damaged calculator

by taking it to pieces."

"Confidential referral form

for admission to special unit."

I don't know nothing about

no special unit.

"My contract, by Errol Duprey."

Is this your writing?

Yeah, it's the contract.

- What do you write with, a hammer?

- A pen.

"I have to behave myself

at Hooper Street at all times."

"I must obey the staff

and teachers at Hooper Street...

...and if I do go home, I must

behave myself and listen to my mum."

Obey the teachers, listen to your mum!

"I have to be up at eight every morning...

...and wash and get dressed and have

my breakfast and get ready for school...

...and reach there at five to nine every

morning." Did you write this cobblers?

They make you do it.

Signed by yours sincerely, Errol Duprey.

"Assessment report on Errol Duprey."

Your case conference coming up, is it?

- Can't you read?

- Not very well, no.

You f***in' baboon!

"Psychiatric report."

"The most striking feature about Errol

was his nine-inch cock."

What?

"The future."

"It seems unlikely

for this child to return home...

...his mother having rejected him

for her own lifestyle."

"Bearing this in mind,

future care seems to be the alternative."

"We would recommend

a care order be made...

...in order to be able to continue

our assessment of his needs."

You're in here for life, mate!

What'll I do?

Piss on it!

F***in' chuck it. Chuck the f***in' lot!

- Where's yours?

- Who gives a f***? Bottom drawer.

Piss on it!

Sh*t on it. F***in' sh*t on it!

Aagh, f***ing 'ell, what a stink!

Hey, put it on!

- I can't see to wipe me arse!

- Come on!

Wait a minute!

Shut it and come on!

Come on, man! They'll catch us.

Easy!

Not that one.

Not that one.

Where the f*** is it?

Here it is - Mr Shahnawanker's!

- F***in' Paki bastards!

- You Paki bastards!

- You f***ing Paki bastards!

- Animals! F***in' Paki bastards!

We don't want you here! Britain is white!

F***ing black n*gger bastards!

F***ing Paki bastards! We'll put you

in the f***ing gas chambers!

F*** off back to the Punjab!

You baboons!

Get back to the jungle!

Great!

Hey, you! Come back!

- You hear? Come back! I'll call the police.

- Come on!

- They saw us, man!

- Bollocks!

They saw us! I don't want to get

in trouble, my case conf is coming up.

Let's go back, eh? Let's go back!

You little black bastard! Out!

Out!

Move!

Bollocks!

Wanker!

F***ing wanker!

Hello? Who is it?

Hello? Second floor. Come up.

Oi, oi! You up early, missus?

What you looking at?

- Just a minute! Hey, excuse me!

- Get in and shut it!

Sorry about that, Mr Driver. Sorry, John.

I thought it was the taxi for the airport.

I'm sorry.

You nerd!

- You going away, Harry?

- In there! And keep your voice down.

You going on holiday, Harry?

What do you want, Trevor?

What's going on?

I'm turning myself in.

- Harry! Harry?

- What do you mean?

Wait there, and don't make a noise!

Oi!

- Up the Yids!

- Out!

You wake him up

and I'm going to boot your arse.

I didn't get to bed till one, so I've had

bugger all sleep. So watch it, right?

Now, what's going on?

I had a bust-up with those wankers

you put me with.

Where you put yourself!

I kept you out of there for months.

You're pissing off on your holidays.

If you can't cope for two weeks, you're not

worth a toss. When did you bunk off?

About one.

- Tonight?

- Yeah.

Take my advice

and bunk back in before it's too late.

- I bust the Jobcentre window.

- What?

- When?

- Friday.

- But I only took you in there Thursday.

- They don't know I did it.

- The assessment centre?

- Yeah.

But you're telling me.

- Yeah.

- Great!

Is it time yet, Dad?

Not yet, Terry.

I'll tell you when it's time to go.

Hello, Tel!

Back to bed - I'm working. Come on!

- I nicked the Transit from the centre.

- When?

- Tonight.

- What else?

Me and Errol chucked bricks

through Mr Shahnawanker's window.

- Mum!

- Sh*t!

Annie wants to go to the toilet!

- Viv!

- All right!

Mr who? Whose windows?

That Paki bastard who had me put away.

- Did you do Harrods' windows too

- I didn't think of that.

Who's?

Who's Errol?

A nig-nog. From the centre.

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