Spike Island Page #3

when you've been signed.

Like we just have.

- Hey, Dave!

What a massive bell-end!

Listen, our kid.

I know things have been a proper

nightmare for you, but I'm here now.

So I don't want you

to worry about f***-all, right?

Here y'are.

Right, you pricks, shut up and dance!

Now let's go bananas.

What's up with you?

Guess who's just got a record deal?

Are you taking the piss?

Who are these c*nts?

- The Palaver.

- They're all right, aren't they?

No! F***ing placcy Manc band!

Guitarist only knows three chords.

Basic ones. No barre chords.

Every tune has the same progression.

He couldn't pick his f***ing nose.

Right. Do you want a pill?

Yeah.

- Now then, Nimrod.

- Hi, there.

- What news from the continent?

- Sound, mate. Sound.

It's time to go

I'm here taking shelter,

weathering the storm

Oh, why won't you leave me alone?

Oi, don't let 'em see

that you're arsed, man.

Hey, come up!

All right, f*** it!

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, you always drag me down

F***ing come on!

It's time to go

I'm here taking shelter,

weathering the storm

Oh, why won't you leave me alone?

Well, I know I'm better off without you

I'm better on my own

Oh

You still at it?

Don't forget Keith Teeth. 3:00, yeah?

Here, don't stop. I nearly had it then.

It's like an hour-old mouse.

Just give us a minute, will you, lad?

Ah, no. F***'s sake. It's gone. It's gone.

Nice one, Tits.

Right, you'd better get dressed.

I've got to go to work.

Are you as f***ed as I am?

You do know that tomorrow's massive,

don't you, eh?

It's history in the making, innit?

I've had a pathetic vision.

- So are you going?

- 'Course I f***ing am.

I was dragged up on punk, son.

It's not punk! It's baggy. Scallydelia.

Right, for a start, are you a backward?

Them are made-up words.

I'm talking about attitude.

Ian Brown is John Lydon times 10.

- Have you got a ticket?

- Have I, bollocks!

You been up the hozzie?

Not fair, is it?

Your dad's a shining diamond, man.

And I know I can still be

a bit of a mither and all that,

but I'll work hard for you.

No, you won't.

I'll give it a f***ing good go.

No, I mean you won't be working for me.

F***!

F***!

Keith Teeth! The tickets!

Five lighters. Five lighters.

Five for a quid. Five for a quid.

All right? Gary?

Aye, aye! We're on. I'll do one.

Where you going?

"Gary"?

I just think "Tits" doesn't sound

all that... sophisticated.

It's not the best nickname in the world,

but, you know, it is mine.

Like to think I make it work for me.

Anyway, "Gary" just sounds weird now.

Are you with your mam?

Yeah, she's just looking

at stuff over there.

Top one.

Might as well have some flowers,

seeing as I'm here and all that.

Who are they for?

Wouldn't you like to know?

I'll chuck in a few good ones.

- Lovely.

- It will be.

Have you got your tickets yet?

What time is it?

It's just gone 3:00.

Should be meeting Keith Teeth now.

It'll be right. He's all

right, Keith Teeth.

It suits you, you know,

the whole market-trader vibe.

What, like St Eric of Salford?

Think that's all I want to be, me dad?

Soz.

No, I should, erm, probably head off.

What do I owe you for the flowers?

Nish. You can have 'em for f***-all.

Just don't ever let anyone tell you

I'm a tight-arse.

I'd never hear a bad word said.

Here y'are!

- All right, girls?

- All right, lads?

Seen Keith Teeth?

No, soz.

What, he's not let you down, has he?

No way, didn't see that coming.

Spike Island outfit.

Do you want to buy any sunglasses?

Do you want to buy

any squidgy black?

Have you heard about the trains?

I think so. Are they the big, noisy things

that run along tracks?

You can't get into the station

or through the turnstiles to the platforms

without a ticket for the gig.

Security are going to be checking 'em

on Station Approach.

And they're closing the roads

four square mile of Widnes.

You can't even get on to the site

without crossing the Mersey.

Only way in is on the official coaches.

You lot look caned to f***.

We got pilled up last

night in the Dark Side.

With Ibiza Ste and all the older heads.

- It was banging.

- I'd give you a proper banging.

So, what? Is Ibiza Ste back, then?

Yeah.

- Is he going to Spike Island?

- Yeah.

Are all the big boys going?

Yeah. And we're going with them.

F*** me, it speaks!

So, are you going to find me

in Widnes then, or what?

Yeah, all right, yeah.

When you get inside, find the sound desk.

Be on the left hand side, facing the stage.

- Right...

- No, left.

Be there by 7:
00, yeah?

Yeah.

Nice one.

I mean, I'll be with Dodge

and that lot, so...

Yeah, I know. 'Course you will.

And I'll be with the girls.

- Is Sally not about?

- No.

Is she still going tomorrow, though?

Yeah, of course. What about Tits?

Yeah. Of course.

Sound.

So, we should meet up or summat?

You f***ing know that, sugar tits?

"Sugar tits"?

How will you find us?

You'll find us. We'll stand out.

Mega.

- Be at the main gate.

- Buzzing.

Oh, look, there's Keith Teeth.

Quality! You actually think

he's coming, don't you?

Yeah, he said he swore

on his mum's life and all that.

His mam's dead.

Why didn't Tits just get

Ste to sort you out?

- Hey!

- Quick!

- Come here!

- Come on!

Right, I'll see you, Gary Titchfield.

See you, Sally Cinnamon.

You do know that's a love song?

Yeah. But about a lesbian.

Yeah.

- You f***ing naused that right up.

- What?

She's bang into you. And she's fit.

No, she ain't.

Yeah, she is. All right, ladies?

Been to see Dad yet?

I'm on me way up there now.

I just need a word with Hairy Bollocks

about a few things first.

Yeah, sound.

Keith Teeth ain't coming, is he?

I told you Keith Teeth was a knob.

- F***!

- Yeah. F***. Goofy prick.

Listen, go back to the Red Bricks, right?

See if you can find the c*nt.

I'll bell our Ste, see if he can

sort summat. It'll be right.

Ste? It's me. You're

probably in the hospital.

Listen...

Keith Teeth's let us down, mate.

We're f***ed.

I've never asked you for owt before,

but you asked me if we needed an in

and, well, we do now,

so, I don't know,

just come and see me at the stall

or just stick your head

in the garage later or summat.

...F***!

Sh*t! Mate, the pips have gone.

I hope me dad's...

Gates, fences, dibble, security guards.

F***ing rivers that soppy Scousers

sing soppy songs about.

None of who are going to stop us

from getting in. Nothing is.

We blag, we lie, we climb,

we rush the barrier, we f***ing swim.

All we got to do is make sure

that we get inside somewhere

we ain't supposed to be.

When's that ever been a problem for us?

Christmas Eve.

When Zippy fingered that 12-year-old.

She was 14.

Yeah, 14 times too f***ing young

to be fingered.

- Do you think it'll come to that?

- What, fingering 12-year-olds?

No, I don't. I think our Ste

will come through with tickets.

Or put our names on the gate.

So it'll be right, Tits, yeah?

We've got to go to the gate anyway

to meet the girls for our date.

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