The Business Page #3
We understand each other?
And one last thing,
you even think about trying to get hold of her...
Sammy, I'd never do that. She's your lady.
All right. We'll be back just before sunset.
OK. Good luck with the Dutch.
Shut your mouth about the Dutch.
It's nothing to do with you.
to make a deal with the Dutch,
I had to look after the snake.
The way she f***ed with people's heads,
Lmagination
Would you like to see the menu?
A bottle of Bollinger, please.
- No.
- Please.
- No.
- One glass.
- No.
- I'll tell Sammy you raped me.
One glass.
A bottle, please.
# Only you can understand the way I feel tonight
# She blamed excesses
on the American Dream
# So seldom witnessed
# Never seen
# Ha, ha, ha, ha
# lmagination
# Could make a man of you
# lmagination
# Could make me love you too
# lmagination
# Is all I want from you
- F***!
- Me?
Shut up a minute. They're back.
- How are you supposed to drive me in that?
- Are you sober?
Can I smell your breath?
It's all right. Remember, you haven't had a drink.
Maybe.
Dirty f***ing Dutch!
Liberty-taking...
Hi, darling.
Hey, Charlie.
- You seen what they've done to the Merc?
- What's happened to you?
They've f***ing shot the car to pieces,
that's what they've done.
tell them we need them at the club tonight.
Oi!
I said, get Danny and Ronnie and get yourself
back here. We need to check this lot's working.
You're bleeding everywhere.
You'd better get up the hospital.
- Five is a prime number, innit, Charl?
- Don't f***ing drive me mad, Sam.
It's half down to you that I've got this.
I asked you,
Are they heavy? Do we do business with them?
No, not you.
Not Sammy Brooks.
He wants to run around f***ing killing people.
What do you reckon, boys? Nice, eh?
Not the espadrilles.
You need heels, babe.
I'm obviously not gonna wear it
with f***ing espadrilles. I was just showing you.
- Sweet?
- Amazing.
- Ain't nothing getting through these vests.
- Good.
Try it on me.
Yeah? How far?
- Are you ready?
- Go on, then.
F***!
Any good?
F***. Still here, ain't I?
My turn, Charl. Use the shotgun.
- Are you sure?
- Go on.
Ready?
Ready.
Sammy?
Sammy? Are you all right, son?
Might start wearing one of these
all the time, Charl.
You should do. It'll help you sleep better.
It's like a kick up the bollocks, Charl.
It's a blinder.
Here you are.
You try it.
What?
Put the vest on.
Sammy, what are you doing?
What?
F***.
- This is f***ing madness. I don't want to...
- Oh, shut up!
Here, are you all right?
Kid?
Are you all right, son? Come on.
Are you all right?
F***ing liberty.
- What?
- You know what.
What do you mean? He's all right.
Go on, stick him in the boot if he's moaning.
Don't worry, son. You'll live.
What's the matter? You're off, ain't you?
It's just that... I'm just...
It's all right, don't worry.
You ain't gotta explain nothing to me.
It's just, it ain't a bit of me, Charl.
I ain't one of yous.
Here, look, come here.
Here, take it.
Any time you want a holiday,
you come and see me, all right?
Don't worry about it. You just make sure
you come and see me again.
You'll be all right, you know that, don't you?
Am I?
Course you f***ing are. You've got character.
Anyway, look, I've gotta go and sort out
these Dutch c*nts.
I'll see you later.
Take care.
Ta-ta.
The way I saw it,
it was go back to London and wank my life away
playing Donkey Kong in the kebab house
or sign up to a life of crime, women and drugs.
What else was I gonna f***ing do?
Let The Music Play
# Let the music
# Just to groove
# Let the music
# This groove again
# No, no, once again now
# Let the music
# He'll come back
It's eight miles straight across
from Morocco to Gibraltar.
Every night, we had one chance when
the Navy patrol boats were far enough apart
for us to sneak our dinghies full of drugs
through the middle.
And it weren't easy, our line of work.
Cos you had to get up around five, have some
paella, if you're lucky, a bit of shrimp,
then wait for night.
We prayed for clouds
so they could give us that extra bit of cover.
Even then, Sammy was the only one
that made the call.
Sometimes we misjudged the timings
of the patrol boats.
And as I wiped Moroccan kids'brains off me,
I questioned my morals.
But with the amount of money at stake
and Sammy breathing down my neck,
there was no time for regret.
It ain't good news. We've lost a few of 'em.
Oh, well, you live and learn.
Unless you're a dead kid.
It was Danny and Ronnie'sjob to get the puff
from the dealers,
load up the boats with the barrels and make
sure the mules headed in the right direction.
Unless it was Ramadan.
F***ing Holy Month costs us fortunes,
because parents wouldn't let their kids go,
even when we doubled their carry money.
But we got round it. We went to the orphanages.
Sammy was the eye in the sky
and everything went on his order.
He was the only one
that could give the green light.
Me and Charlie were on beach patrol.
It was ourjob to make sure
the kids didn't run off with our drugs.
They're thieving c*nts, Moroccans,
it's in their blood.
So we'd grab 'em out the dinghies, sling 'em
in the back of our van before they could run off,
then we'd drive into the Linea, switch lorries
and send the puff off to Madrid to be sealed.
The bath is empty. I repeat,
the bath is empty.
- Go! Go!
- Go!
# Even when they reach the top
# Even when they reach the top
# There goes a supernova
# What a pushover
# There goes a supernova
# What a pushover
# Yeah
- Come on, then, you little f***ing pikeys!
- Come on!
Come on, venga! Venga!
# We're a long way from home
With the Dutch out the way, we changed
the way drugs were smuggled into England.
We slashed the prices
and drove them through the Continent.
Our operation grew so big,
I was bringing my mates down to help.
I lived to regret it cos, like Moroccans,
South Londoners are thieving c*nts
and couldn't keep their hands to themselves.
F*** Frankie!
And the ginger c*nt.
He looks like Ronald Mc-f***ing-Donald.
You shoot your mate in the foot, you can go.
If not, Ronnie'll shoot you in the foot.
Sam, please, I can't shoot him,
he's my f***ing pal.
- Ronnie!
- All right, all right.
Leave it out, Dan.
I've known you since I was five.
F***ing hell. I'm sorry, mate, I've gotta do it
or I'm gonna get f***ing shot.
Look what you made me do.
Sorry, mate.
Argh! F***!
Oh, f***.
Ronnie!
Leave it out, Sam. They're kids.
Argh!
F***ing hell!
And you,
you'd get one right through the f***ing nut
if you wasn't Charlie's boy.
as my life got bigger,
my world got smaller.
The more money we made,
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"The Business" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_business_4865>.
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