Neds Page #3

You can get them up to 100,

then pay it back a pound a week.

- I'm getting one for 25 f***ing quid.

- Really? That'd be good. Cool.

Is that a tennis racket?

I don't even know why I've got it.

Never play tennis.

Picture Bruce Lee with this thing.

One minute a poofy bastard,

next minute you're f***ing rattling c*nts.

F***!

F***, man.

- F***'s sake.

- Sorry, I didn't know you put it there.

I'll get my dad to sort it.

it's fine. It was an accident.

Move.

- Is Julian home?

- No, he's not here just now.

Er...do you know

when he'll be back?

He's at his aunt's so he'll be late.

- Can I leave these here for him?

- What is it?

- Football boots.

- No, he'll not be interested in those.

- Will he be in tomorrow?

- I don't know.

I don't think you should come

round here again. All right?

Good. Off you go.

- Quality, man.

- Aye.

Where you going?

- Up the road.

- Where's up the road?

Just up there.

- What's in the bag?

- Football boots.

- What size are you?

- 8.

F***ing let them go.

You're an 8, aren't you, Keyman?

There you go, I swatched them.

Any money on you?

Provident cheque.

F***ing bonus!

25 pound.

New pair of f***ing Docs for me, boys?

- I'll be having halfers.

- Will you, f***, you wee dick!

You talking about? I dug him up first.

Did you, f***. You done nothing,

you wee shitebag.

What? You f***ing think

I cannot take this knob on?

Come on. Come on!

You want a square go?

Aye? F***ing come on then.

You wee f***ing shitebag.

F***ing...

Yo, wee man.

You Benny's wee brother?

- What?

- What?

- That's Benny's wee brother.

- Is it f***!

- it's not Benny's wee brother.

- Smash his c*nt in!

I'm not taking Benny's wee brother's

football boots. He'll f***ing murder me.

- Punch his c*nt in. Show us!

- Benny's wee brother, aye?

Telling you, T,

he'll kick your f***ing head in.

Just looking after that for you, mate.

Know what I mean?

- I've seen him.

- You're on your own with this one, man.

If you're gonna hit him, do it now.

Go. Go on!

- Do you want a drink?

- You f***ing dick! What?

So, John, are you teaming up

with us?

- Who are youse?

- What do you mean, who are we?

Car-D, my man!

Benny's the Car-D,

but we're the Young Car-D.

We take on f***ing every c*nt.

Every c*nt, man.

- The Pollock Krew.

- Ibrox Tongs.

- KP Star.

- Few scatty c*nts down that way like.

- Shitebags.

- John...

There was f***ing two c*nts last week.

F***ing came down here from the Pen.

Thought they were wideos.

Was it you, Tam, chased them

with clothes poles, f***'s sake?

- F***ing fannies, man.

- Ask him what he wears, Johnny?

What the f*** are you talking about?

My f***ing granny took my shoes!

- That old chestnut.

- You told your granny to hide your shoes.

You know where she f***ing hid them?

In that broken biscuit drawer.

F*** sake. I'm still taking f***ing

caramel logs out of my socks.

- And eating them, you wee fat prick!

- F*** up you. F***ing dick.

Here you are, give us some of that.

- You gonna take it off me?

- Whoa!

Nearly started

without you, lads.

You look exhausted, sir.

So tired.

Perhaps I could help you.

Stand up here.

That's it, sir.

I'll give you a co carry.

Come on.

- What class are you in?

- 3A.

I'll get you there. On you get.

My goodness, you're heavy, young sir.

Sorry about that, sir.

it's my first day back.

Here we go, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

You're going to have to go it alone.

Not as young as I was.

Now 3A...just along the corridor.

- Think you can make that?

- Yes, sir.

Oh, please, sir.

Don't be late again. I don't think

my old bones could take it.

Thank you kindly, sir. Thank you.

You're late. First day.

Excuse?

Excuse?

No?

Hands up. Three.

Higher.

Sit down.

How you doing?

- F***ing full of stoaters, man.

- Not one decent looking person in there.

Look at this c*nt.

What the f*** you doing in there?

You don't even go to this school.

You Proddy bastard. F*** off.

- I do go to this f***ing school.

- How the f*** did you get in there?

F***ing jotter and everything.

C*nt with a Batman cape came in.

"Oi, son, come in here and sit down."

F*** it. May as well sit down.

- What class is it anyway?

- 3R.

- R...R...R... A spastic class, isn't it?

- F***ing remedial!

Spastic, my ass.

Spastics get better class than you.

PE. F***ing day trip.

- PE? Can you f***ing spell PE?

- I can f***ing spell PE, you prick.

F***ing some class you're in.

Look at the nick of it, man.

- Where are youse going?

- For a fag, mate.

Give me a fag? I'm f***ing choking.

I can't come out. I'm vulnerable.

- Give me a f***ing fag!

- Who'll kick f*** out of you?

F***ing give me a fag.

- So what class you in, John?

- 3A, mate.

3A'? F***ing hell, we got

a smart c*nt here. F***'s sake.

That c*nt over there's got a blade.

Who's it for?

They're Cross lot, I think.

The Krew and the Cross

have been at it all summer.

F***ing dodgy bastards, man.

No, son. Not out here. Pick that up

and put it in the receptacle provided.

That's in the bucket, sir.

Past the sinks, up the back.

Thank you.

Both of you, you're expelled!

Mr Muirhead. This is your last day

at school. You're expelled!

Your name? You're expelled!

What's your name? You're expelled!

- Every one of you.

- Sir! Sir!

Stay out this school! You're nothing

to do with this school any more!

- Sir!

- What is it?

- Whats so f***ing important?

- Think I've been stabbed.

Right...

Marcus...

...est..

..inn...

...horto...

Anybody tell me

where you would find Marcus?

As usual I'll turn to the knowledgeable

Mr McGill to provide the answer.

Mr McGill'?

Mr McGill, are you with us?

What?

I said if a Roman said to you,

"Marcus est in horto,"

where would you find Marcus?

Who?

Now, you see,

such is Mr McGill's modesty,

that he feigns ignorance in order

to avoid embarrassing you all.

If a Roman said to you,

"Marcus est in horto,"

where would you find Marcus?

Dunno.

- I think you do.

- Just said I dunno.

Right.

Well, you're obviously

all still in holiday mode,

so I want you to turn to page 7A

in your textbooks,

and reacquaint yourselves

with basic first year Latin.

- Is anything the matter, John?

- Get your f***ing hand off us, man.

What did you say to me?

- Have you done this?

- No.

- I think you did.

- I didn't.

- You did this, didn't you?

- No.

Right, come on.

Stand up. Up you get.

And come with me.

Come on. Down here.

You stand here. Stand here.

Now...

...in the 3 years I have been

at this school,

this has never been used.

Now...l am prepared to overlook both

your belligerency and your vandalism,

if I am given first an admission

and, secondly, an apology.

Don't even know what you said.

I find it difficult to believe

that in the space of 6 weeks,

you have suddenly

degenerated into idiocy.

- So now I'm stupid?

- I don't have to take this.

So what you gonna do about it?

I'll tell you what,

tell me to put my hands up,

then lash me with that belt

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