The Angels' Share Page #4

a little nose of the whisky.

That's basically a wee smell.

And tell me what you

think it reminds you of.

My Da's breath when I was wee,

that's what it reminds me of.

Reminds me of an old pub what used to be

at the bottom of my street.

Anything else?

It's like Christmas cake I had once

at my nana's house.

Well done.

That's really good. The Christmas cake

that you're smelling is the fruity flavours.

Very impressed.

Right as rain. Tough 'un, me.

- How much did you have anyway?

- I had one double and that was it.

- We were watching you.

- I had one.

Put your fags out, boys. It's no smoking

in the van, you know the score.

- (GLASS CLINKING)

- All aboard!

Did you steal something, Mo?

- Nothing.

- Doesn't sound like nothing, Mo.

I couldn't resist it. It was

far too easy in there.

- Jesus Christ, Mo. You're a

f***ing disgrace. - Put them back.

Harry could lose his job.

Do you want them?

I don't like whisky anyway.

No, I don't f***ing want them, Mo.

We made Harry a promise.

So you read all these, then?

Cannae get the f***er

out the library these days.

- DOUGIE:
(THUMPING) You bastard.

- Nose it.

F***ing watch that aerial,

it's holding the telly together.

Look at the state of the f***ing thing.

What are you talking about?

F***ing 6 I paid for that bad boy!

Heavy, sweet and peaty.

- It's like a whiff of sea breeze off it.

- There's something coming off it.

It's... It's a...

Highland malt for cert.

Sea breeze?

All we need now is a f***ing rainbow.

I know what you mean. I can...

The saltiness off it.

- Aye. Get that?

- It's sweet, too.

ALBERT:
Bullshit. It's all the same to me.

- What are you doing...

- (SPITS)

- Albert.

- (SNIFFS)

- (HAWKS, SPITS)

- MO:
Oh!

RHINO:
Albert... F***'s sake, man.

MO:
F***ing hell, man.

ALBERT:
Sorry.

RHINO:
F***in' boggin'.

Jesus Christ.

Here, smell the peat.

CAZ:
Pete? Who the f*** is Pete?

RHINO:
They get it from the ground

then they dig it up.

What? You dig it up

and you throw it in a drink,

and youse are wondering

why it's barking of shite?

Look, give yourselves

a bit of time, guys, right?

I was like that at first, and then

big Harry started to show me how to do it,

showed me the tricks of the trade.

Right, give us it over. Let's try this one.

DOUGIE:
F***ing volume. Work, work!

Volume, you bastard. Work. F***ing work.

ROBBIE:
A bit... a bit spicy.

- Where does that smell come from?

- The casks.

It's like, maybe like a short fermentation.

American oak gives off like coconut, vanilla.

Maybe sometimes even like a chocolate.

- That's it. That's it. - Albert,

I'm telling you, mate. It's the truth.

- Sea breeze, nutty and now f***ing coconut.

- (ALL LAUGHING)

Are youse three f***ing trying to set me

up here? Do you think I'm f***ing daft?

Aye. You're dumb as f***.

Just listen to him. He'll tell you.

RHINO:
I cannot believe we're having all

this drink and we're no even getting pissed.

Me either, man. I need a f***ing drink.

RHINO:
You're not getting a drink,

look at the state of you.

Listen to what this book's saying, right.

"Sense explodes

from the murky undergrowth of times past.

"The dank, dark aromas

of yesteryear waft around us. "

What the f*** is that?

- (FARTS)

- (ALL GROANING)

- Good arse.

- CAZ:
Dougie!

- RHINO:
Dirty, skunky, smelly bastard.

- I've got company.

Sorry, troops, but I need

a f***ing drink, man.

ROBBIE:
You're disgusting, you, man.

ROBBIE:
Don't you bother!

CAZ:
Dougie! What you doing?

CAZ:
Oh my God!

MO:
Oh, don't!

ROBBIE:
F***'s sake, man.

CAZ:
Minging, mate.

CAZ:
Oh, you are smelling!

RHINO:
Check it out.

ROBBIE:
You're a dirty, clatty bastard.

Has he finished doing that yet, Mo?

That's actually tasty, by the way.

Peaty and a wee bit lumpy.

(RETCHES)

Oh, God.

ALBERT:
Sweet.

MO:
Yes.

(TAKES SHOT)

Look at that.

ROBBIE:
A wee shot to nothing there.

Just left that long red on.

Is it on?

Four nil.

Points. Four points to nil.

Lucky Alberto.

Albert's played a bit of snooker in his day,

I tell you that.

MO:
What the hell was that?

ALBERT:
How did that go in there?

RHINO:
That's crap.

Oh, man.

Put my balls in that pocket.

Evening, all.

CLANCY:
Youse three get to f***.

I want a word with Robbie.

F*** off.

You want a word with me?

What, does it f***ing take three of youse?

F*** you, you f***ing c*nt!

(ALL CLAMORING)

MO:
Robbie, run!

Robbie, get outta here! Robbie, run! Run!

CLANCY:
You wee f***!

Oh, f***.

F***ing caught you, daftie.

Right, no c*nt touches him but me.

What are you gonna do with that?

F***ing skelped you before,

I'll skelp you again.

Aye, because you had a f***in' lucky shot.

Put it down, we'll have a square go right now.

(ALL CLAMORING)

Get out of the way!

Clancy! Get a leash on those bastards!

(MATT YELLING)

Thanks, Matt.

Shut up!

Look at the state of these scumbags.

Some place to bring up a f***ing wean.

ROBBIE:

Why can't you just give me a chance?

Just one more chance, Matt,

that's all I'm asking.

I'll look after Leonie.

I'm gonna be a good dad.

You don't get it, do you?

It's too late for you.

Even if you wanted to change,

they're not gonna let you.

You think you can reason with the likes

of Clancy and that? I don't think so.

Your only chance, son,

is getting out of Glasgow.

And I'm gonna help you.

I'll give you five grand

to head to London on your own, new start.

For f***'s sake, Robbie, look at yourself.

What can you offer my daughter, eh?

I mean, look at the state of this place.

Look at the state of your face,

all f***ing chib-marked.

No job. Never have a job.

Even the Army wouldn't touch you

with a barge pole.

Can you not see Leonie and Vincent

would be far better off without you?

Vincent?

Aye, Vincent. Leonie's baby. My grandchild.

My son's name's Luke. I named him Luke.

It will always be Luke.

Have you listened to

a f***ing word I've said?

You're as thick as shite. Go on, beat it!

F***ing waste of space.

You stupid prick, you!

- Consecrated ground. Show some respect.

- I'm soaking. I swear I'm wringing.

JEAN:
You'll live.

What are you doing that for?

Don't listen to him. He's full of it!

He's soaking.

- You all right there, Mo?

- All right, Harry?

- You all right, Robbie?

- I'm fine.

- Everything all right with Luke and Leonie?

- Great, just f***ing perfect.

(SIGHS) F***ing perfect, Harry.

Listen, I'm going to Edinburgh

at the weekend.

You fancy coming? A whisky meeting.

I'm skint.

I'll get you the ticket.

- Can I come?

- It's a whisky meeting.

- It's all right, I'm into that.

- Are you?

Aye.

Yeah, all right.

MO:
Albert! Rhino!

Going to Edinburgh at the weekend.

- What's that?

- We're going to Edinburgh at the weekend.

- Who is?

- Us. Harry's taking us.

Where we going?

Me and Robbie are going to Edinburgh

for a whisky meeting.

- What, are we coming then?

- MO:
Obviously it's all right.

Is that a definite? We can come?

- MO:
Obviously it is.

- Yeah, yeah.

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