RocknRolla Page #7

You see, Johnny, the crackhead knows...

...that a rocker

is worth more dead than alive.

Silly world, isn't it?

Mr. Quid does not get his gear from me.

He has to travel far and wide.

But do leave me your number.

And if the dead feels like calling...

...you'll be the first to know.

I'll have the painting for you

in a couple of days.

I had it locked up with some other goods.

You know, I was keeping it safe.

And then Archy goes and loses the key.

Don't you, Arch?

So I'm not trying to be funny,

but I've got this payment tonight...

...and if there's any chance

of having the money...

Where the f*** has he gone, then?

I don't know. But I don't think

he was too impressed with that story, Len.

Something wrong with these immigrants.

I don't trust them.

I think we're being set up.

I don't know how,

but something is wrong.

I can smell it with my sniffer.

He doesn't have the balls or the brains.

He's a crook.

Small-time, backhanding crook.

I think he's trying

to make fool out of you.

Adjourn the meeting.

Oh, my God, you're a mess.

There you go.

Are you all right?

That is a rhetorical question, I hope.

I'll have a water, please,

with a big, long straw.

Thank you.

So you don't wanna know

what happened?

Put it, put it. Cut it.

I know what happened.

Don't go in there.

Mumbles.

Mace him.

Hollandaise?

I see you ordered already.

You were late.

The bastard's gonna hit me.

Mace him, Mumbles.

What?

Not me, you idiot.

What?

I can't move my...

- What?

This way, this way, this way.

Shouldn't you have taken precautions?

Precautions?

Did you see that?

What happened?

God.

Well, it's your job, isn't it?

What are these guys made of?

I didn't realize.

Realize?

You didn't realize that they had guns?

Big, long, dangerous machine guns.

With war criminals

attached to the trigger.

Please, stay down.

Just f*** off.

Get out of the f***ing way now.

You know what, darling?

I'm just gonna leave this laundry bag here

under the table for you, okay?

F***ing hell.

Sh*t.

Hold up.

Oh, my...

Oh, f***ing hell.

Abandon ship.

Run for your lives.

Come on. Come on.

Come back with my bike,

you dirty bastard.

Goodbye, sweetheart.

You're way too dangerous for me.

- Did I overdo it with the limp?

- No, the limp was good.

She's a wild one.

She likes you, boy-o.

Rather her than you, Bob.

I don't care if he is f***ing busy, Archy.

If we call, he answers. That's the deal.

Oh, there he is.

Oi, Councillor.

Councillor.

I'll see you at lunch.

Something wrong with your telephone?

Oh, I'm sorry. Shouldn't I be here?

I go wherever I f***ing like

because this is my town, not yours...

...no matter what you and your pen-pushing

immigrant boy scouts might think.

So, what's going on?

Step in here.

I can't do it.

You've left it too long. You want

something the city has a ruling against.

They wouldn't give permission to build.

Don't give me that sh*t.

I look out my window,

I see 20 buildings...

...this city said they'd never build.

How did that happen? The termites

got together for a building party, did they?

No, sunshine.

It was backhanders putting them up.

Backhanders like mine.

Lenny's good for the money,

Councillor. He always has been.

- So don't go getting cold feet.

- I can't do it this time.

It's not f***ing Zaire, Lenny.

Get off my bollocks, Lenny.

Don't you ever swear at me,

you yellow puddle of immigrant piss...

...or I'll drown you in it.

You feel that, do you, Councillor?

You don't think there's a paper trail

for all those gifts?

The cars, the holidays,

the tennis courts, the swimming pools.

I own these bollocks.

And right now, they're more fragile

than a pair of quail's eggs.

Now, get it done.

Pedro?

Come back here.

Where do you think you're going

with that painting?

You never said it was your dad's,

or whatever you wanna call him.

You've gotta give it back, John.

People are looking for it, bad people.

The streets are alive

with the sound of pain.

You may have a point, Pete,

but I can't give it up.

- You know why?

- No. Why?

Meet me in the pub in two minutes.

I'll have that painting

in a couple of days.

- You can trust me on that.

URl:
Good.

That's nice. I love a clear fairway.

That's a bit of me. That is...

URl:

So you like it out here, Lenny, don't you?

Oh, yeah.

You can't beat the great outdoors, Uri.

But I don't understand it.

There's no one here.

URl:
That's because I have had the course

cleared for us.

We are not going to be disturbed.

Victor, please, come to join us.

You see that pack of Virginia killing sticks

on the end of the piano?

Yes.

All you need to know about life

is retained within those four walls.

URl:

What are we going to do, Lenny?

Every time I am about

to make my payment...

...something dishonest happens.

You wouldn't know anything, would you?

You will notice that one of your personalities

is seduced by the illusions of grandeur.

A gold packet of king size

with a regal insignia.

An attractive implication

toward glamour and wealth.

A subtle suggestion that cigarettes

are indeed your royal and loyal friends.

And that, Pete, is a lie.

Excuse me?

Are you trying to say something?

I'm not trying.

I am saying something.

Your other personality is trying to draw your

attention to the flip side of the discussion.

Written in boring, bold,

black and white, is the statement...

...that these neat little soldiers of death,

are, in fact, trying to kill you.

And that, Pete, is the truth.

I think you forget who you're talking to,

you insolent bastard.

I think you forget where you are,

you f***ing immigrant.

Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and

I'm addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren.

This is my land. It's my f***ing show.

I run this town.

Ah! F***!

Ah! God! Ah!

That that starts sweet ends bitter.

And that which starts bitter ends sweet.

URl:

I have to go now, Lenny.

I am having lunch

with the Councillor, your councilor.

URl:

This, as you know, is the ninth hole.

And it's a long crawl back to your car.

You should make it by sunrise,

just in time to bring me my lucky picture.

URl:

I want it back.

Do you hear me?

- Yes, yes, oh, God.

URl:
Times change.

Goodbye, Lenny.

That is why you and I love the drugs...

...and that is also why

I cannot give that painting back.

Now, please, pass me a light.

Oh, you are something special,

Mr. Johnny Quid.

F***ing junkies. You're f***ing useless.

I don't want your sort in here.

Get up out of here. F*** off.

- Go piss off out the door.

Get off.

- Go on, f*** off.

I'll buy this place.

F*** off, you junkie.

- You won't be able to catch me, fat boy.

- Stay out and f*** off.

Ooh.

Is that you, Bertie?

What's happening about that drink?

What's happening about that paperwork?

Well, I'm busy tonight,

but Monday looks good.

I'll leave the papers

at my reception under your name.

Text you the address.

Well, I'll pop around in a jiffy,

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