Starred Up Page #3

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No, f***ing didn't.

Hmm.

You're jealous, mate.

Oh, f*** off.

He's making links,

without you, with some serious geezers,

and now you want to

go and f*** it up,

because you f***ing are, mate.

Who the f*** you think

you are? Huh? Huh?

(BREATHING DEEPLY)

Good boy.

There you go.

Selfy's got a stomach bug.

Oh.

Like the old days.

Got to keep the show

on the road, Dennis.

(ERIC EXHALING SHARPLY)

(PANTING)

Ah.

You look nice.

- Really?

- Nah.

Where you from?

Oxfordshire.

Ooh. What you doing here?

Well, I was going to ask if you would

like to walk to group with me.

No, I mean this shithole.

Well, I feel at home here.

So this is where

you open up to me and build trust, is it?

Yeah.

Look, I was, em, sent away

when I was very young to boarding school

and when I got

out the other end,

I found it really

hard to manage in the outside world.

Posh boy.

Not really.

Well, you don't get paid.

I had some family money

after my granny died.

So this is sort of like

a hobby for you, then?

No. No, I need to be here.

I got sent away when

I was young like you,

I was put into care.

Then, when I was 10,

I done a pedo in. Hmm.

Sloshed him.

Boiled water, sugar, boom.

Kiddy fiddlers, man, strange.

They want you to reassure them that

what they're doing is normal.

Like they want you, the victim,

to let them off the hook.

They want to open up to you,

build your trust.

Now, the geezer's face,

I won't never forget.

Melted, in his hands.

I think maybe you've got the wrong

idea. Could I just come in and...

So you can start

touching me up and all?

No, you f***ing wrong one.

How many f***ing sugars do you take?

You f***ing nonce c*nt.

(GRUNTS)

Why should I give

a sh*t about you?

'Cause I'm starred up, mate,

and very f***ing violent

and you want to make

a name for yourself,

don't you, and your

f***ing little group.

I don't give a sh*t if

you're in my group or not.

- Then why you f***ing stood there, then?

- I don't f***ing know.

- Have a think, then, d*ckhead.

- I don't want to think.

Right now, I want

to f***ing hurt you.

Yeah?

Good.

Now we're getting somewhere.

Let's go.

- Morning, guv.

- OFFICER:
Morning.

Good.

MAN:
Come on, laugh.

Hi, everyone, sorry I'm late.

Hey, why you run last time?

Hey, he didn't run.

He chose to hold it down

instead of becoming violent

and took himself

back to the wing.

Whatever, man.

- He ran.

- No.

He made a choice.

So why you sticking

it on me for?

Because you're pressurizing him and I

don't want him to kick off.

You're defending him.

And what's wrong with that?

So why you getting involved?

Why not leave it to

his f***ing dad?

F*** you, you little mangy c*nt!

- Ryan, that was... That was wrong.

- Take it easy, man.

Take it easy.

Hey, hey, take it easy man, chill.

Chill, yeah?

You're doing the right thing.

He knows.

(MUMBLING) F***ing this

guy don't give a f***.

You're mugging him

off by telling him.

And you're doing what

by telling me, blood?

- What you saying, blood?

- What the f*** you standing up?

I'm saying what

I'm saying, ain't I?

Des was offering support.

I don't give a f*** what

he was saying about.

And you shamed him

without meaning to.

Yeah, but he's shaming me

and you ain't got sh*t

to say about that,

have you, you stupid prick.

- That's enough.

- Listen. Me?

It's f***ing him who's

on his f***ing period, bruv.

Stepping in. Mugging man off

like I was a f***ing bag head

scratching for dog-ends

on the f***ing yard.

When that ain't what this

group is meant to be about now, is it for?

I'm standing up 'cause

I'm standing up. What?

I'm standing up now, what?

- The f*** you standing up for?

- Come make me sit down.

- Come make me sit down.

- Fall back, man.

Come. Hey, come here.

Blood, I'm standing up.

Bruv, ain't sh*t

going down, man.

'Cause you would have lumped Des and he

would have shanked you,

and that would have finished

the f***ing group altogether, you c*nt.

So relax.

(MUMBLING)

Talking to me, bruv?

- Enjoy your smoke, man.

- Now we say?

Enjoy your smoke, man.

- You still talking to me, bruv?

- Why don't you enjoy your smoke.

- Fam, you still talking to me?

- Enjoy your smoke.

I ain't never had

a problem with him, you know.

You got a topic?

Hmm?

For the group discussion.

No, I'm just listening, ain't I?

- RYAN:
Fair enough.

- ERIC:
Hmm.

(CLEARS THROAT) It can take a

session or two to get used to it.

OLIVER:
Erm, okay,

so who's got a topic?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

- MAN 1:
Serious?

- MAN 2:
Nah, mate.

- Take it easy, yeah?

- Cool.

Don't f***ing touch me.

Look, I told you,

you get the rest when you do him.

- He's gone and done you.

- Yeah, I f***ing did what you told me.

- This guy's crazy.

- Just give it to me.

- When you do him.

- All right.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

SPENCER:
And how about your

little Warren and Charmaine?

JAGO:
Yeah,

doing well, a big boy.

- Getting a big boy.

- Yeah.

And what about Char...

- Can I help you, young man?

- Nah, sweet.

ERIC:
Hey, is he about?

In a meeting.

Eric, right?

Come in.

Thanks.

It's all right.

Come to talk to you.

Man to man.

So we don't get on

each other's f***ing tits no more.

Which is a good thing.

All right.

Talk.

You just order me about

and tell me to do stuff.

You don't give a f***

about how I feel.

Well, that's it.

F*** off, "That's it".

What else is going on?

Come on, you come here

to f***ing talk to me, tell me, what is it?

Someone giving you

a f***ing hard time?

Someone f***ing threatening you?

Tell me the truth.

What the f*** is going on?

Nev, I think he's just trying

to tell you something and he's...

It's f***ing prison, ain't it?

(DOOR SLAMS)

(SIGHS)

(GROANS)

As someone whose nan who come off the

f***ing boat, Barbados, yeah.

Don't like Africans.

Think they can look

at me with all their f***ing tribal scars,

- mad accents and sh*t?

- I'm a f***ing African.

Yeah?

But you ain't got

no scars and you talk South, you c*nt.

- They got their fraud.

- I'll give you that.

Being honest, don't like

f***ing black people.

All in. They just

prey on each other.

Don't let no one advance.

Now you see your, your Indians, your

Bangladesh, your Vietnamese,

your f***ing Pakistani,

Koreans, North, South,

whatever the f*** they

want to call themselves,

now you see them, motherfuckers,

they stick together.

Slavery done it.

It was you

African nig-nogs that traded us

to the white c*nts to

start though, weren't it?

Yeah, well, I don't like yids.

- I'm a yid.

- HASSAN:
F*** off.

- I'm half Jewish.

- Which side?

- OLIVER:
My father's.

- Don't count.

TYRONE:
You're off track

with the Jews, bro.

Check it.

They arrived at the bottom,

but finished at the top.

One generation,

wherever they are.

RYAN:
I still ain't

having them.

Well, you're a black c*nt.

If I'm a yid c*nt,

you're a black c*nt, he's a white c*nt.

We're all a bunch of c*nts

if you think about it.

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