Starred Up Page #5

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My mum.

Why?

No, I'm just saying.

Nice photo, ain't it?

- How's yours?

- Hmm?

Your mum, must be a bit

worried about you?

No, I ain't got one.

OFFICER:
Bang up!

(CELL DOORS CLOSE)

ERIC:
Thanks.

For what, blood?

For the tea, ain't it?

(OFFICER WHISTLES)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Come on, mate,

it's not the crown jewels.

What you do in that group?

Talk, ain't it?

- Talk?

- Yeah.

And sometimes it can go.

Sounds loops.

It is.

- Okay, so, what's the topic?

- Jail.

- Okay.

- Yeah, like what effects it has on you

and how it fucks with your head.

- Good topic.

- You want jail, yeah, go f***ing Morocco.

Ain't got peeps,

money, you're f***ed.

- American jails, worse. Don't care.

- OLIVER:
Why's that?

They shag each other

out there, ain't it?

HASSAN:
Bruv, I'd rather

have no servery...

(DOOR SLAMS SHUT)

OLIVER:
Welcome.

(OLIVER CLEARS THROAT)

F*** me!

What's your f***ing problem?

I'm f***ing here cause of you, ain't I?

- Well, sit down then.

- Don't f***ing embarrass me, all right?

Don't f***ing embarrass me

in front of everyone.

You want a f***ing straightener?

Come on.

- Oh, my f***ing God.

- NEVILLE:
F***ing have it.

- Mr. Love.

- F***ing have it then.

Don't f***ing start

with me, all right?

With your poncey f***ing voice and you

think you're f***ing better than me.

Don't f***ing start with me.

Look, just sit down

and shut up, yeah.

F*** your class.

You f***ing, bunch of fucks!

Get me off this f***ing wing!

(BANGS)

Off the wing, now!

Bang me the f*** up!

OFFICER:
All right,

all right, fella.

F***ing wankers.

(DOOR LOCKS)

NEVILLE:
Get me off

this f***ing wing!

Open the f***ing gate!

Open the f***ing gate!

Open the f***ing gate now!

Open the f***ing gate!

Bang me up right f***ing now!

Open it!

Open the f***ing gate,

get me behind my cell, now.

RYAN:
Think positive.

- Rise above it.

- OLIVER:
Ryan.

I'm helping him.

It's the wrong kind of help right now.

If you just back off.

Yeah, you don't ever bite,

Ryan, do you?

F***ing everything

sorted, is it?

- Yeah, of course.

- Yeah?

- 100%.

- All times?

Like I said.

Yeah, well maybe you

ain't f***ing true to yourself then,

to the f***ing group and all.

- Just watch your mouth.

- Watch me mouth?

Go f*** your mum

in her a**hole, how's that sound to you?

- What the f*** did you just say?

- ERIC:
Yeah, there we go.

Who the f*** do you think

you're talking to, you little prick?

Take that back or I will

f*** you up right now.

What, do you think I'm one of them

little f***ing pricks on the wing?

- ERIC:
F***ing 100%.

- Carry on smiling.

You're gonna see

what's gonna happen.

- ERIC:
Sit down.

- F***ing prick.

You think you can just

f***ing talk how you want.

You can talk whatever the f***

you want about my mum.

Like a f***ing

dead person, I am.

I don't f***ing feel anything.

Nah, this is bullshit, man.

No one don't say nothing

about no one's mum.

You've been f***ing warned.

And you too.

Hmm.

(EXHALES)

Suck your mum.

I will bury you!

I want him!

I f***ing want him!

(YELLING)

TYRONE:
I will bury you, c*nt!

Step inside the f***ing ring,

you p*ssy!

Look, look Ty.

Lads, boys...

Listen, cause I ain't

got f*** all going on with my mum,

don't give me the right

to start slating yours, yeah.

I'm sorry.

Okay?

Ryan, don't leave me

hanging like a c*nt, come on.

Yeah, look, sweet.

See, done, yeah?

Mr. Baumer, would you care to tell me

exactly what is going on in here?

I'm in the middle of a session.

- You have a vulnerable YO in here.

- And?

We agreed one incident

and he would have to leave.

- But he didn't do anything.

- You need to do it,

and you need to do it now.

(BREATHING DEEPLY)

You're going to have to go back to

the wing, just for this session, mate.

- Bullshit.

- Why?

(SIGHS) It was agreed,

one incident and he has to come off.

Yeah, but it's all right.

Relax boys, f***ing hell.

- Sweet, Ryan, yeah?

- RYAN:
Yeah.

- Ol.

- Well done, yeah.

- Cool, thanks man.

- I'll come and see you...

I'll come and see you later.

- Okay.

- HAYNES:
I don't think so.

- What?

- A break is a break.

He's lucky not to be

back on segregation,

which I recall formed part

of our original agreement.

Why are you so scared

of something that might actually work?

You need to calm it down.

He's building trust.

Okay, he's taking stuff on.

It is working.

I mean, seriously,

what are we doing here,

if not trying to help

prisoners like Eric f***ing Love?

What is it you

don't understand? He is a young offender.

I don't give a f***, I want him!

You, you need to get

a hold of yourself, Mr. Baumer,

because you are

far too involved.

(PANTS)

(SIGHS)

(MAN SHOUTING)

(DOOR LOCKS)

(URINATES)

Sorry about Love.

Of course, we did everything we could

to accommodate him in your group.

But with someone

like that, well...

However hard we try,

sometimes there's just no hope, is there?

Warehouse him.

(WATER TRICKLING)

Protect the public that way,

make sure he stays inside

for the rest of his life...

(GRUNTS)

(CHOKES)

(CHAIN RATTLES)

(PLATES CLATTERING)

(SIGHS)

F***ing no better than

a f***ing grass, you're not.

F***ing running your gums

in the f***ing group.

Slinging your tampon around,

until half the f***ing

jail come on top. Embarrassing.

Bummer, Baumer, whatever his f***ing

name is, better man than you, mate.

See that group makes you feel part

of something, like you is someone.

F***ing come here,

I thought sweet, big man's nick.

I thought nice one,

someone to look up to.

F***ing bollocks,

joking ain't you?

- Nev.

- Eh?

F***ing walking around,

f***ing giving it the large'un,

intimidating people.

Yet you can't even sit

on your own f***ing ass

for five f***ing seconds.

What's that about, eh?

F***ing embarrassing,

that's what that is, f***ing pathetic.

Tell you what you are mate,

a f***ing prison poof.

(SLAPS)

(EXHALES)

I'm sorry, I didn't...

Here, what you doing?

What's it f***ing

look like I'm doing?

No don't, mate, no, no,

what about all the work you've been doing,

all the stuff, all the changes you've

been going through in class.

(GROANS)

Group.

It's a f***ing group,

not a class.

You're a f***ing man now,

aren't you?

You're a f***ing man,

ain't you...

All right, we can

f***ing do this.

Come on then,

let's f***ing have it, let's have it.

(GROANS)

(GRUNTS)

Ain't f***ing...

(GROANS)

(GROWLS)

(GROANS)

(GROANS)

All right...

I f***ing...

I give UP-

(GROANS)

You f***ing got me.

- You let me win.

- I didn't f***ing let you win.

Yes, you f***ing did,

you mug, you let me f***ing win.

I didn't f***ing let you win.

Yes, you did,

you mugged me right off, you c*nt.

I didn't.

You've been f***ing training.

F***ing hell.

F***ing f*** all,

that's what you are, mate.

That's right.

Oi, I'm talking to you, c*nt.

Walking away as per usual.

Look at you.

Turn round.

Can't, can you?

Can't f***ing face me, can you?

Cause you're not

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