Rise Of The Footsoldier Page #2

I mean, why do you have to start as soon

as I get through the f***ing door?

- We're over, Carlton.

- What?

I want a divorce.

You can't, can you?

You know what?

No. You can either

help me pack that car...

or you can just f*** off back

to one of your dolly birds.

And so it went on.

Match day. Arsenal away.

My lot had gone up in front

and for some reason

I'm stuck with a load of stragglers.

Now these c*nts had been out

on the piss the night before

and they weren't exactly up

for an early start.

F***ing hell, it's Millwall!

Get up! The f***ing Treatment!

Get up! Get up!

Get up! Get up!

We've got to do

these c*nts! Get up!

Come on then,

you f***ing wankers!

Get up!

Come on, move move!

Life's all about moving forward.

You learn what you can

and you crack on.

I've been running the terraces

for over a decade.

Maybe this is my time

to bail out gracefully.

The Old Bill were

coming down hard anyway.

They had surveillance

and undercover units.

It was getting f***ing stupid...

there was more Old Bill at the game

than there were supporters.

And they weren't slapping you

on the wrist anymore.

They were handing out

heavy jail sentences.

Yeah, I reckon

I got out just in time.

I've been hearing good things

about you, Carlton.

I got told this joint

used to be a shithole.

- Yeah, it did,

- Well, look at it now, eh?

Things seem to be

ticking along nicely.

Why don't you come

and clean up my joint?

Yeah? What's it like?

It's a den of c*nts.

I'm hoping you can change all that.

I want the '80s crowd...

suits, briefcases,

nice-looking birds.

I'll be giving you

carte blanche, son.

But the only problem

was I didn't have

enough reliable

cool-headed mates from football

to look after another door.

I needed fresh blood, and I knew

exactly where to get ahold of it...

Talbot's gym.

This ain't no place for showboaters,

This is where

the meanest, hardest lumps

in East London

come to workout.

The reason I'm down here

is I'm starting up a door firm

and I need some lumps. If you want,

I can sort you out five nights a week.

Yeah. I'll have

some of that, yeah.

You f***ing want some?!

Get my money by next week.

Oh yeah. Get in there!

Watch it.

You make me look like a c*nt

in front of the management!

- Oh, f*** you!

- Every time I get you a gig

you're always f***ing pissed!

You're a total c*nt!

No, you're the c*nt! I'm gonna bring

the lads back in and sort you out!

You're f***ing dead!

Get the f***ing lot

of them, you wanker!

You want a proper job?

Hello, girls.

How are you doing?

F*** off.

You know,

someone once told me

you're only as good

as the people around you.

And you didn't get

to work on my door

unless you could

seriously handle yourself.

- Put me down, you wankers!

- Watch him!

Hey! What are you doing?!

But I soon found out

running doors weren't

the only way to make money.

There's more than one use

for hired muscle...

guarding packages,

minding drug deals.

Me and the lads got paid to make sure

things went down as they should.

People don't mind laying out

It became bread

and butter work for my firm,

but there was more to do

than just babysitting.

People started coming

to me for all sorts.

Yo, you want to start off here?

Oi!

F***!

Well, done, eh?

Now the rave phenomenon

will have to go down in history

as being as important

as the birth

of rock 'n' roll, punk or metal.

It all started with the acid house music

in the late '80s.

These kids started putting on

massive parties all over the place...

in factories, warehouses,

whatever they could

get ahold of.

And if you was

a farmer back then,

you'd wake up to find

a f***ing spaceship's

just landed in your field.

What's all about here then?

There's Millwall,

Tottenham all over this place.

I keep waiting for it to kick off.

It's all the Ecstasy, Carl.

This lot will be doing nothing

but loving each other all night long.

Have you checked with John and Terry?

How's the door getting on?

They're all paying 20 to get in...

with no bother.

I tell you... it's a f***ing license

to print money, isn't it?

You want to be a little more subtle

about that, don't you?

Yeah, but love

ain't subtle, mate.

Yeah well, neither am I, so you either

put it out or I put you out.

- Do you understand?

- You should have one.

You look like you need it.

Don't worry, it's on me.

You're some sort of c*nt, ain't you?

- I don't do drugs.

- It's not a drug, mate.

This is love.

Don't tell me you don't do love.

Yeah yeah yeah, love love love

and all that f***ing bollocks.

All right, you mad c*nt.

Go on, give me one.

But put the rest away!

You understand what I'm saying to you?

F*** it. Why not?

Everything all right, Carl?

I've only gone and taken one

of those pills, ain't I?

Yeah, it was either that

or give the kid a slap.

But I'm in a good mood,

so I thought I'd let him off.

So what's it like?

Oh, it's rubbish, mate.

It must be a dud.

I can't feel nothing.

You know,

I still can't feel nothing.

Really?

Yeah, it's rubbish.

We go way back,

don't we, Eddie?

Yeah, mate.

I'll tell you what, mate:

You're a f***ing brother to me you are.

Yeah, cheers, mate.

I f***ing love you, Eddie.

F***ing love you.

Oh, mate, I'm buzzing off

my f***ing nut here.

I've got to go and dance.

It was incredible...

the first time

I'd ever touched drugs

and got as close to God

as chemically possible.

The biggest crowd I'd managed

before this was 300 strong

and 15 lumps just about managed

to stop them from killing each other.

But everybody in here

was in love.

I mean the drugs were

breaking down social barriers.

Peace by Ecstasy...

even old Thatcher

couldn't have dreamt that up.

# Boy, if my needs

cause a storm #

# And your eyes say

"Take me home" #

# You and I could spend

a night of romance, really alive #

# But when

the morning comes #

# Will I still want you? #

# Ooh, will I still

want you? #

# Will I still want you? #

# Ooh, will I still

want you? #

# Uh-huh, you can dance

into my heart #

# But I know that's not the part #

# That you want to steal away #

# So when the morning comes #

# There'll be nothing left to say #

# Baby, let me love you

for tonight #

# I've got to have your love #

# I really need it now #

# Baby, let me love you

for tonight #

# I know you want my love #

# My love will treat you right #

# You know I want you, boy #

# We all need to love today #

# But the heart will surely pay #

# 'Cause the moment that our loving

keeps from reaching the stars #

# Just say goodbye to me #

# And then nothing will remain. #

This stuff really was

going to change the world.

I wanted to feel

like that forever.

We all did.

Oh dear. A pint of your finest

champagne, please, squire.

Look at this flash c*nt

giving it the old Roger Moore.

He feels he's right special,

doesn't he?

He's definitely got

a f***ing problem.

Who, him? Looks like

the f***ing Honey Monster.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes