T2 Trainspotting Page #3

I'm not finished yet.

I'm not finished with him!

The f*** are you staring at?

C*nt robbed me of 16,000.

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,

and welcome to Jet2.com

Flight 0511 to Amsterdam.

I'm getting divorced.

You just came back to tell me that?

Of course, any misfortune which befalls you

is music to my ears.

I was supposed to go back

and move my stuff out.

She owns the apartment.

-And the children?

-There aren't any.

-None?

-No.

So when you said wife, two kids...

James and...

-Laura.

-Laura, that wasn't strictly true?

-No.

-Why'd you lie to me?

'Cause I didn't want to tell you the truth.

And the no-kids thing, was...

Was that a problem?

It's none of your business.

Yes, it was a problem.

It was a f***ing big problem.

-All right? That make you happy?

-A little bit.

Oh, f*** off.

It's all over, the marriage. Fifteen years.

And then the company I work for,

that's merging with another.

There'll be no room for me.

Not enough qualifications.

I can see that coming.

I don't need to wait for the f***ing letter.

And then three months ago,

I suffered what I've been told was a...

An episode of acute coronary insufficiency.

Like a heart attack.

They put a tube in here.

And I've got a metal stent

in my left coronary artery.

Good as new, apparently. Good as new.

Should last another 30 years, they said,

but they didn't say what to do

with those 30 years.

Two or three, fine, I'll take that.

I can cope with that.

I can think of enough things to do

to piss away what remains.

But 30? What am I supposed to do with that?

I'm 46 and I'm f***ed!

I've got no home.

I've got nowhere that I think of as a home.

I don't really know anyone.

And what's the substance

of our acquaintance?

Friendship, please.

You ask me to get involved

in some stupid scheme

to finance and establish and run a brothel.

Sauna, please.

-A brothel.

-Well...

The sad thing is...

The most pathetic thing of all

is that I can't think of anything better.

So you're gonna help me? Find the money?

-Where's Veronika?

-She's not here.

She doesn't really like staying over.

She complains that it's a mess,

all that sort of thing.

-Does she?

-Yeah.

-Not why you stayed, is it?

-What?

-Her, Veronika.

-No, of course not.

No? 'Cause she's my girlfriend.

-Yeah, I know that.

-Good.

-It's not a mess, is it?

-No. It's just masculine.

What is this?

Come here.

Just do exactly what I told you.

You'll be fine.

Grab anything you can carry.

Get the telly at the end.

Go!

-There?

-Shut up.

-F***'s sake!

-I'm sorry.

Who's there?

Hello?

What the f***'s going on down here?

What the f***?

-I'm sorry.

-C*nt!

Ya c*nt, you! You f***ing beauty, you!

How you doing, Mikey?

Hey. Bring in the telly.

Who's this, then?

This big handsome bastard

is none other than my son.

Franco Junior, meet Mikey Forrester.

-So you're teaching him the trade?

-He's a little bit to learn though, eh?

Well, you're in the right hands, son.

He's got the talent, I'll tell you that.

We had a spot of bother.

Concerned citizen came down the stairs,

f***ing tooled up and all.

I was on the back foot, I can tell you.

But Franco Junior here

took him out and no mistake.

Well, no, it wasn't quite like that.

Takes after his old man, eh?

Don't you?

-Cheers, boys.

-See you again.

I covered up for you there.

-I'm sorry, Dad.

-See, if that happens again,

son or no son,

it's gonna be a f***ing kicking, right?

Right, Dad.

Right. Come on.

Never mind, Frank.

Oh, f***ing shut up.

A light had shone in the night

Somewhere ahead

And blue had turned into green

Then it was red...

This place is a goldmine. It's a certainty.

I mean, these are people who've been

abandoned by their political class.

But at least they have what we don't...

A sense of identity.

Right, come on, let's get it over with.

An identity encapsulated in four digits.

If we're not back in an hour, call the police.

-What shall I say?

-Just tell them we're dead.

Each machine seemed to say

As I walked round and round

the penny arcade

And just ring the bell on the big bagatelle...

The Battle of the Boyne

was fought on the 11th of July, 1690,

between two rival claimants of

the British and Irish thrones,

James II, Catholic,

and William of Orange, Protestant.

The battle was decisive.

The Protestants won.

But 400 years later,

the uncompromising and victorious loyalists

now feel estranged from the

modern, secular United Kingdom.

Let me tell you that I love you

And I think about you all the time

The sectarian songs have been banned,

but they still gather

and remain loyal to the victory of 1690,

and to a simpler, less tolerant time.

It's the greatest sight that I have ever seen

You are a red hot

You're a red hot dancer

When you swing your hips

And you do the salsa

Rock forward and back

Then you do it again

Take a grapevine to the right...

But if nothing else,

history has shown us very clearly

these are people

whom it is unwise to provoke.

You aren't from 'round here,

are you, lads?

You not gonna give us a song?

I can sing. I'll just...

I'll just f***ing make something up.

You can play the piano.

I can't play the f***ing piano.

You know those two chords.

The f***ing F and G march

you used to play at school.

Do that.

Good evening.

My mate and I would like to

sing a song that we wrote.

No.

Is... Is that it?

It was the year of 1690

On the 11th of July

Or the first in Julian calendar

Wait, wait, wait.

Give me something with a little bit of rhythm.

Here we go.

It was on the field of battle

Of hope we were bereft

But by the time that it was over

There were no more Catholics left

We looked up to King William

On his chin a royal cleft

And by the time that it was over

There were no more Catholics left

Aye! F***ing right.

His strategy was strong

His strategy was deft

By the time that it was over

There were no more Catholics left

The battle now victorious

We foiled his papist theft

When the time was over

There were no more Catholics left

Aye!

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

No more Catholics

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

-No more

No more Catholics left

Thank you very much. Good night.

Just f***ing drive.

One-six-nine-zero.

One-six-nine-zero.

Sixteen-ninety.

-Nope.

-Nope.

And it's midnight.

Start again.

So, there's this room service guy, right?

And he comes into the room,

and there is Georgie Best

lying on the bed with two Playboy models.

Three in a bed, champagne

and a little bit of Charlie,

and there's banknotes.

But they're lying on the banknotes.

-Lying on the money?

-Yes.

-Why?

-I don't know.

Because he has a lot of money.

Or at least he had

a lot of money at the time, anyway.

The room service guy, he comes in,

and he sees this scene

that I just described to you,

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