The Football Factory Page #4
Just keep your nuts down.
I want you to be outside and back on the road
in five minutes.
Oh, yeah, and whatever you do, no fighting.
Bit rich, coming from him, innit?
Zeb, what did Billy say to you?
He said we've got to get his gear back to him
by tomorrow.
And we've got to apologise to his wife and kids.
You've had a result there.
You're lucky. He could have battered you.
Blinding result, eh?
This complete nutter will never talk to us again,
and everyone think s we're thieving little c*nts.
You are thieving little c*nts.
But you know what you've got to do, don't you?
Prove yourself at Millwall.
That'll sort it out.
Yeah, do the business down there,
and you'll be an hero in his eyes.
Will you stop moaning about beer?
All you do is complain about beer.
I'll be opening bottles with my f***in' teeth
all the way up there, Bill.
Could have done with a couple of cans.
Shouldn't have had that chicken burger.
Stone me, it's them Stoke fans that done us.
- Where?
- Over there. Look. It's them.
- It is them.
- It is an' all.
On the Rory, on the Rory, on the Rory.
Listen. We'll get the beers safe.
Then we'll outflank 'em, yeah?
I ain't saying a word.
What the f*** are you doing?
There's two of them
Stoke fans that done us.
Drop 'em now. We'll be late for the meet.
F*** 'em. They kicked the sh*t out of us.
No. The gavvers are over there.
I'll give you f***in' "no"!
Northern c*nt!
F***in' idiots.
Slow down, you two, for f***'s sake!
What, was you f***in' bullied at school,
was you?
Have fun, boys.
Who are you f***in' looking at?
Billy's extensive vocabulary
would never get him into Parliament.
And this lot could be West Ham,
Cardiff, Arsenal, Stoken even Man United.
Don't matter to me.
The odds don't look very good.
Know what? I think I'll call it a night. Tom?
Yeah, let's go and have a beer.
Yeah, good idea. We'll jog on.
What about you, Tom?
All right, boys. I'll see you in a bit.
Order us some Miller.
- Light?
- Er... regular.
- No problem.
- See you later.
You all right down there, mister?
What happened to you?
I've had the sh*t kicked out of me.
What about you?
Me? I'm dead.
Bill! Rod!
Help! Where are you?
Bill! Help!
F***in' hell.
Liven yourself up.
We're in court in half an hour.
Court? What?
F***... What about my dream?
What the f*** was that dream a about?
Who was the pikey kid with the bandaged face?
Where was that tunnel?
What did i all mean?
F*** it.
Must be that nutty skunk again.
What's wrong with you, Bright?
You're 40 years old,
and still you offend persistently.
I see children with more common sense.
What did you say?
Don't you dare answer me with that
insolent tongue of yours, you fat f***ing slob!
The Establishment call us chidren while
they're at King's Cross having sex with 'em.
I should tell this old queer
to join us down at Millwall.
He might enjoy swapping that silly wig
for having a row.
Yes, sir. I'm very sorry, sir. It won't happen
again, sir. You can be sure of that.
I do hope that's the case, Mr Bright.
I'm passing this over for reports.
I'll see you
in a month for sentence.
- And Bright
- Yes, sir?
again before that date,
I won't hesitate to give you
a custodial sentence of a least five years...
Why is it, while I'm having hightmares
about dead kids,
Rod's slipping into the court clerk?
What's he got I'm missing?
Shame. He's hung like a pike in here.
And it's tricky
cos he's been known to get serious.
How are the tulips selling?
They flew out at the market.
What's happening, Tom?
Here. I got nicked with Bright the other day,
kicking off with the OB. You'd have loved it.
Nice one, Tom. Sounds really clever.
It's not my scene any more.
Yeah, well, I'm just saying.
Well, go and say it somewhere else, and don't
come down my stall giving it the big 'un.
All right. Slow down, Ad.
Slow down?
I'll tell you about f***in' "slow down".
What's the matter with you, clumping people?
Ain't it about time you started growing up?
You're nearly 30. You wanna get hold
of yourself. It's all a lot of bollocks, anyway.
- What?
- You're a bright kid. Work it out.
- Here you are.
- No, they're from both of us.
Nearly 30? What's he on about?
Jesus! I only wanted a bunch of f***in' flowers,
and he tells me to think about my life.
See you, Albert.
What's Harris and Bright doing there?
I could hardly stop them, Bill.
They're foolish men, Tom.
Harris think s we're connected
cos I fought in the war.
What he doesn't understand is, I fought to stop
people like him with their Fascist opinions.
Billy is a f***in' idiot.
Are you still going to Australia?
I don't know. There's a spare ticket
going begging, if you're interested.
Your cousins would love to see you.
Do yourself a favour.
Put a bit of distance between you
and all that stuff you're mixed up in.
I'm all right, Bill.
I'm just having a laugh.
Well, just be careful.
Next time you visit the boneyard,
it could be in a box.
What are you f***in' doing here,
you little c*nt?
I've come to pay my respects.
Well, you're not wanted.
Let's have it right. You didn't even
f***in' know him, did you? Did you?
Well, put your soppy cap on,
then, and f*** off.
Go on, jog on.
Don't forget our appointment.
All right, boys? What's happening?
Why have you got a dartboard
drawn on your shirt, Zeb?
Well, what's it got
to do with you, you mug?
All right, boys. First one to a hundred.
Aaaarghh!
Aaaarghh!
Stand up straight.
He wants to know
which one stole the PlayStation.
Me.
Good call. Crack on.
Aaaarghh!
Oi, shithead, hold your hand out.
- What, Zeb?
- I said, hold your hand out.
Just a kid, ain't you?
You hold your hand out, Zeb.
Let's see how old you are.
Are you trying to f***in' mug me off?
With Millwall round the corner,
it was time for the juniors to play
Nice to see Billy and Fred
could put their differences aside
when it come to their kids.
Bit of a coincidence, eh? Our kids play against
each other just before we meet in the Cup.
Somehow, I don't think this game's
gonna get quite as messy. Do you?
Fancy yourselves in bandit country, then?
Well, let's have it right.
If history's anything to go by,
last time we met you lot,
we ran you all over London.
You couldn't run 100 yards, mate!
- Won't f***in' need to, either!
- Don't get lemon, Bill. It don't suit you.
Spell it, you c*nt.
C-U-N-T. C*nt.
I meant "lemon", soppy bollocks.
We'll see about lemon when you're lost
in deep south, you fat f***in' prick.
Whoa! Now we're getting personal.
Now, what's your problem?
That you have to open your kebab shop soon
or that you buy Charlie off a white man?
Well, how does it feel doing business with
a Turk, when you're supposed to be right wing?
Scooby-Do's less confused than you.
You'll be confused
when I open your canister up.
You wanna wait
till the game or make one now?
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"The Football Factory" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_football_factory_8390>.
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