Shank Page #4
Yeah, but that's what we're tryin' to do, innit?
See? We're just like you.
Is dat a fact?
I like you lot, ya know.
Yeah, but right now, ya come round,
flappin' your wings in my pub.
We don't care 'bout no Tiny's gang.
We don't care 'bout your beef.
But dis ain't about you, and it ain't about deem.
It's about me, and my brother!
You know, I need your help, man.
I like hows you always brings us decent munchies.
I ain't gonna have you all up. But...
you're still on my toes 'ere.
Comin' 'ere asking me to snitch
on some little Tiny.
Dat's an insult.
So... I reckin'...
we should let the dogs settle dis.
Aahhh...
Don't be shocked, boy.
Your mutt, takes mine.
and I'll tell you where the
p*ssy local squad is at, or...
your mutt, gets strung off
the top of da roof.
put out of 'is misery I say.
[Laughs]
F*** dat.
Oh, no, no ...
Maybe I didn't make it clear.
See, dis wasn't a "Yeah...
I'd be up for dat",
or "No, maybe some other time"...
kind of question.
It was a "Yes, Beano" kind of question.
No, Beano. You can fight me,
not my dog.
Oohhh!!!
I heard you lot was a non-violent lot.
Well, I f***in' tell you what! My dog won't
'ave any trouble doing your dog. Let's go!
Give me dat jacket.
Come 'ere, give me it!
Yo, a deal's a deal!
"Son."
I ain't no snitch.
Down dat way.
I know which one he means, come.
Little freakin' pigeons.
Narrating:
Papa. He's harmless.Thinks he's a proper style hood.
Just an old man, now.
Kickz use to work with "em.
Driving his van.
He had a good business.
Since things went down, he's just running
Kickz and Papa go way back.
But Kickz owes Rager
else, otherwise he would have starved.
Excuse me, are your feet tired?
- "Excuse me, are your feet tired?"
Shut up, you little knob.
- Wot?
Wot's goin' on, Papa?
- Kickz, me main man, brother.
How you been, boys?
Fancy a bit of rare game?
Fresh and hot, KFP.
No, we're all right. We just ate..
- Wat the f*** is "KFP"?
Kentucky Fried Pigeon, brother.
Oh mate, dat's just wrong.
- Hey, you got a problem with the f***in' cuisine?
Write to the f***in' head office.
- I'm looking for someone.
And who might that be, little man?
His name is Tugz.
You've heard of the
Strictly Murkin Souljahz though, ain't it?
Maybe.
- Listen old man, Pappa...
Tell us what you know mate or I'll f***in'
smash your teeth in, you dirty pigeon bandit.
Relax, hard kid. Tell me you're gonna crack
nuts with your little boys claw hammer?
Where I grew up, we had f***in' fights the old
fashion way, mano to mano on the street.
With your fist, and nothing else.
That's how beefs got settled back than.
You see dese? I had deem knocked out
in a scrap when I was 20.
I f***in' picked them up, and I f***in' pushed
deem right back in and I carried on fightin'.
Wot are you chattin about, man?
I'm chattin' about things you ought
to be listenin' to, son.
You don't look even hard.
Shut up, Pugey. Get busy with the supper, yeah?
So, where is all dis violence
gonna get you? Youth dese day...
They learn how to kill as soon
as they get out of f***in' Pampers.
Let's just get to da point, alright?
The point is 'ere,
I know these little Souljah mugs.
But I don't know where
they f***in' hang out.
Or Tugz or Ticks...
- You're unless, man
It's alright.
Wot do you want with dese boys, anyway?
- He killed his brother.
Well, I do know where some of
their little Jiselles are now.
Oh, you know some of them, mate?
Watch your mouth,
you f***in' northern c*nt.
Now, see one time, they robbed a bunch
of knives from the back of the shop.
Dis little monk, Pudge,
wasn't keeping his eyes open.
I see deem trying to leg it,
so I chased deem down the road.
And I see where they all hang out.
Big f***in' gang of deem.
So, where are they?
You gotta look for the old Routemaster
that still floats around the estates.
Aye, aye, aye, ticket.
Come on now, 10 for all of ya..
Don't I know ya?
- No man, I don't know you, blood.
So, where are all dese girlz?
Just relax. When they come on,
I'll talk to deem.
Do you think they can resist dis?
- You talk proper British shite.
I'm out of Buqay`ah.
Exactly.
Narrating:
Sometimes, like I say: "You wakeup and you could get killed today".
Never thinkin' it might be you
doing the killin'.
But when you lose someone you love...
everything... and I mean everything,
changes.
[Rapping]:
You can't get da girlie...
Yo, Yo...
You can't get no girlie, girlie.
They don't want to be Pali, Pali...
I asked Rachel, than I asked Sally,
they don't want to go out with a Pakistani...
You can't get da girlie!
- You little prick. Stop it, man.
Wot, dese pricks upstairs?
O, my god, da Paper Chaserz.
- We're lookin' for someone.
I heard you've gone out of business.
Junior:
Are you deaf?-Wot are you gonna do, son?
We heard you never shanked no one..
- We chose not to use violence, dat's all.
Well, we f***in' do,
so wot you sayin'?
You twat.
- Yo, youse know about Tugs anyways?
We're looking for Tugz. We've got to
settle sumtin. Dat's all you need to know, yeah?
Listen man, ain't nobody
comin' on my route 'ere,
and telling me wot I got to know
and wot I don't, d*ckhead.
Either you respect us,
or we're gonna do you.
Just relax gurlz, all we want
is some information.
Wait, da ting is here, I heard one of you
skets have been mashin' it for deem.
Wot? Dat's it.
[Everyone talking at once.
Chaotic dialog]
Get out of the way!
Drop dead, you f***in' whores.
Runnin' from some f***in' cows...
Rager got killed here and we did
f*** all to protect him, did we?
It's hard brother I know, but maybe
we should get back, now.
Remember wot Rag always said, no killin'.
- Yeah, and now he's f***in' dead.
Look, I'm not gonna stop today,
no matter wot you or Kickz says.
C'mon man, we don't need
dese f***in' faggots, c'mon.
Hold up, man, we're comin'.
We can't leave him on his own, he's family.
Hey, wait up, man.
Hey guys, wait up!
- F*** off, man.
I want to talk to you.
- We don't want to fight or anyting.
Wot do you want, man?
Relax, yeah?
We wanna help you. We're lookin' for Tugz.
- Wot about Tugz?
Well, I knew youse were lookin' for him,
I went and got my gurlz innit.
Listen I'm Ree Ree. Dis is my sister Tash.
Dat is little Lexy. She don't say much.
Dat is Junior. Craze.
Kickz. And I'm Sweet Boy.
Why you lookin' for him?
- He killed my brother.
We gotta talk, mate.
Why do dey call you Tash?
Is it because you've got a tash, sket?
Call me sket again, and I'll punch you in your balls.
- Wot's dat, wanna give me a man drop?
Dey wouldn't fit in dere, mate.
- Yet but dey would fit in your mouth, yeah?
Wot are you doin 'ere, anyway? Shouldn't you
be in some clinic for anorexia?
It ain't my fault we're all hungry.
And these are my parts, yeah.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Shank" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/shank_17925>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In