Rise Of The Footsoldier Page #5

if you get out of my f***ing way.

So what, you put a few

of them down and that's it?

They will not stop until

they f***ing destroy you.

Not before they kill Karen, Denny,

your babies,

anyone you've ever f***ing loved!

- Shut up, you sick f***!

- F***ing c*nt!

Get your f***ing hands

off me, you c*nt!

- Calm yourself down!

- F*** off!

- Calm yourself down!

- F*** off! You really going to

throw all this away 'cause that

f***ing idiot didn't take your advice?

All right, just get

your hands off me, Tony.

- Are you going to calm down?

- All right, I'm calm.

Yeah, you sound f***ing calm!

Tony, get your hands off me.

I could've saved him.

He was dead the moment

the gear went missing.

Swallow your pride, Carlton.

It's a painful pill to take

and I know it hurts,

but you've just got

to walk away, mate.

Sometimes you've got

to listen to your mates.

I took his advice

and I backed down.

An all-out war with the Turks would've

been a drawn-out bloody affair.

Andy, Terry and Jason

were broken men

and they left the firm soon after.

We never did find out

who took the heroin,

and I guess there's

some c*nt still out there

praying that we never do.

So who else is going?

Just having a drink with one

of Tony's mates. He's just got out.

What's his name?

Pat Tate.

You don't know him.

Is Emma going?

No, she's staying at home

like a good little girl.

What, is it full of tarts then?

Darling, you know

I've only got eyes for you.

F***ing glad you made it, mate.

Didn't think you was coming.

Well, I had to service

the old woman.

I had to give her an oil change.

What you want me to say?

You don't have to

say nothing, Carlton.

I just hope she didn't

wear you out, mate,

'cause this place is

wall-to-wall fanny.

Yeah, I can see that.

- Hey, Tony boy!

- Hey!

Carlton, this here

is Jim Gerenuk.

- How you doing, mate?

- We call him Jimmy G.

Hey, it's a f***ing

great party, Tony.

- You're enjoying it?

- Yeah, I'm doing all right.

- See you.

- See you, man. Nice to meet you.

- F***ing Welsh c*nt.

- Yeah.

First thing first, mate.

Get this up your hooter.

Yeah.

- Oi oi!

- Oi, Tony!

This is Carlton.

He's like my f***ing brother.

Carl, this is Pat.

- Hello, mate. You all right?

- Yeah, nice to meet you.

Don't mind us,

we're just having a little reunion.

I was in the nick with these two...

Darren, Mickey.

- Carlton.

- You all right?

Hello, pal.

Everybody knew who

Pat Tate was.

He was a legend

in the Essex underworld.

After a "quiet meal"

down the Happy Eater

in Basildon...

Pass the salt.

Now cradle my balls.

- You mean like that?

- Yeah, but slow down a little.

Don't f***ing rush it.

Oi. What's that?

- It's the bill, sir.

- Yeah, I can see it's the f***ing bill,

but I didn't ask for it, did I?

I just assumed that since

you hadn't ordered anything

for the last 20 minutes

that you didn't want anything else.

Who are you to assume

you know anything about me?

Take it away.

What are you f***ing looking at,

nose ointment?

- What's this they've charged us for?

- Show us.

- What's that?

- It's the service charge.

That's very comical, son.

I thought only proper restaurants

charged that.

You had the sit-down menus...

Oh, right. So if I stood up and ate,

- you'd have charged me less.

- Well, it's policy.

Listen to me,

you f***ing lowlife jobsworth c*nt.

For the last 20 minutes she's had

her hand wrapped around my cock,

and every time

I get into a rhythm

one of you f***ing mugs

walks over and puts me off.

Now maybe if I'd

have shot my bolt,

I'd have paid the service,

but you keep coming over here

- and interrupting me.

- Sir, if you don't calm down,

- I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

- Get your coat.

Oh, well done, babe.

Shut your f***ing mouth!

You, f*** off... now.

How much money you got in there?

- What?

- How much money you got in there?!

- Pat, don't do that.

- How much money you got in there, c*nt?

Oh my God!

Shut your f***ing noise

and get in the car now.

Move!

I'm f***ing warning you...

you say a f***ing word,

all of you get what that c*nt got.

Would you mind stopping all that

and stepping outside the car, sir?

F***ing hell.

Hiya.

He was gonna get 10 years for it.

That's less than 100 quid a year.

But you know what?

Pat had other plans.

Go! Go go!

The police tried

to set up a roadblock,

but Pat was too quick.

He slipped off to Spain

but was rearrested

in Gibraltar visiting friends.

Cor! F*** me,

it's only Tom Cruise.

Mate, let me get a pen and paper,

I want to get your autograph.

My f***ing bird would love that.

Hey, Craig, say hello

to my man Carlton.

We've met.

You want to tell me something?

No. I'm sorry.

Tony, I didn't know

he was a friend of yours.

- If I'd known...

- Let me just say to you, fellow,

it ain't a good idea to go out drinking

on an empty head, all right?

Are you looking to get hurt?

You've f***ed up now, son.

Get the f*** out of here,

you f***ing useless

muggy c*nt!

F***'s sake!

You ever mouth off

to Carlton Leach like that again,

and I swear I'll leave you

where I f***ing find you.

Now f*** off, c*nt!

The thing about Craig was

he didn't exactly have

the best start in life.

His mom had been knocking off

some toy boy called John,

but she had to put a stop to it

when her old man got her up the duff.

It would be an understatement

to say the lad took it badly.

I did this to prove

how much I love you.

I love you, baby.

I done this for both of us.

Poor bastard

never stood a chance.

He was a f*** up

before he was even born.

Tony paid his mortgage,

and in return Craig was his runner.

He took all the risks.

If Tony needed a couple

of kilos of puff picked up

or a few hundred pills dropped off,

well, he'd just give him a call.

What the f*** are

you c*nts looking at?

Tony brought Pat into the firm

and gave him control

over a couple of doors

and a legitimate job title to keep

his probation officer sweet.

You know, Tony,

you've got to forget charging

those scumbags

to deal in your clubs.

I mean they pay you

a poxy f***ing grand a week

and they're nicking 12,

- That's the way it goes, mate.

- No, it ain't. F*** 'em.

You've got to get into

this business proper, mate.

You've got to get them dealers

to buy wholesale from you.

Listen. I've got all

the contacts sorted out.

You buy the pills

at a fraction of the selling price

and you knock them out

to the dealers at 6 a pop.

I'm saying we can smash

the life out of this and earn a fortune.

Rolfe, you mother's c*nt!

- Where the f*** is he?

- He's not here, Tucker.

It's truth or violence...

your f***ing choice.

He's not f***ing here.

I swear it.

Why not be original and be the first

b*tch in history to tell the truth?

You lying c*nt!

F***ing c*nt!

Come here, wanker!

Come here!

What are you doing, Tony?

You could've f***ing killed me!

I wish I had,

you unreliable little c*nt!

I've been calling you

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes