The Football Factory Page #6

I don't know what to say.

You went berserk mate.

I've got to wash my hands of this one.

The c*nt's been playing darts with me.

What am I gonna do, Rod?

You're gonna have to go round there.

What?

Just go round there and f***in' beg.

Well, that's a good idea. I might as well

break her f***in' nose while I'm at it.

I don't know what else to say to you, Tom.

No, you're right. I'II...

I'll fling myself on my knees

and let him kick the f*** out of me.

Hopefully, he'll have mercy on me

if I'm on the floor.

You know him better than me, mate.

That's the problem. I know what he'll do.

Johnson.

Listen, Bill, listen.

On my life, I don't remember nothing.

I was obviously smashed out of my tree.

I've woke up...

I'm none the wiser, Bill. Please, Bill.

I don't know what's gone on, mate

swear to you. Please Bill. Please.

My life.

You soppy, muggy streak of piss.

I can't f***in' believe you fell for that!

If you'd touched my woman,

you'd already be dead!

F***in' arseholes.

F***in' funny, that, innit?

Go on. Have a f***in' laugh, will you?

Go on. Really f***in'...

I really f***in' need this at the moment,

what with my dreams,

f***in' florists, f***in' billboards...

Bollocks!

C*nts.

On his f***in' knees!

With mates like mine

you certainly don't need enemies. Jesus.

Three weeks ago,

I was getting on with my life.

But now, with Millwall round the corner,

I'm half the man I was, which ain't saying much.

And the worst is yet to come.

Here's Mark with the sport.

Well, the third round

takes place this Saturday,

and of course the pick of the ties

has got to be Chelsea against Millwall.

I know police leave

is cancelled, but this goes beyond that.

This is that ancient rivalry...

Hello, Bill.

Donna, give him a pint, love.

Put 'em on the tab.

- How's your luck?

- Not bad, Billy. How are you?

Right. Same as before.

I'll take some of you lot

down through South Bermondsey,

and Tommy will take the

rest from Surrey Quays.

Where's the meet?

It can't be too far away.

They'll have spotters

out all over the place.

- And it's on top of the Old Bill before we start.

- What about Billy?

What about Billy?

He knows Millwall

like the back of his hand.

F*** Billy.

He don't know what he's doing any more.

Now, let's have it right.

We all know he's become a liability.

Granted, yeah he can have a row.

But he can't run a turnout

down in South London.

He's a f***in' lunatic.

Look what happened in Liverpool.

Bollocksed the day up.

His problem is,

he's taken too much of that sh*t up his nose.

Just forget him.

Slow down. He's one of your own.

Hang on.

You've got to make Harris right here.

It's like having a big kid around.

He's a f***in' dope, mate.

Just let him take Zeberdee

and those chavvies. That'll do him.

You just wipe your mouth of him.

He's a spent force.

Bill...

Bill!

What's the matter, babe?

You think I'm all right, don't you?

What?

I'm all right, aren't I?

Yeah, course you are, you silly sod.

Come here.

Eat your dinner.

Bright!

Don't f***in' creep up

on me like that, you si!

Bill. Take it easy.

How comes you weren't down the pub

last night?

Fell asleep, didn't I?

How comes you know I weren't there?

Harris belled me and asked where you were.

Well, he didn't f***in' bell me.

Maybe he forgot, eh?

- Got it?

- F*** me! What's that for?

Millwall.

Don't be stupid.

You can't take a gun down there.

- It's only a flare gun.

- What are you on about? You'll kill someone.

Meant to be having

a laugh aren't we?

F***in' hell, Bill.

You're on the turn, ain't you?

- You ain't got nothing to prove.

- Ain't I?

You look as handsome

as you did on our wedding day.

Where are your medals?

You can't go

to Whitehall without them, dear.

You're a hero William.

Go and put them on dear.

Make me the proudest woman alive.

Don't look at me.

Yeah, go on. F*** off, you Pakis.

F*** off!

Got the little chavvy?

Corned beefs all over the gaff.

I know, I know, I know.

Did you see the state of his boat?

Did you see it?

You don't even know you're f***in' born!

Oh, f*** off.

Go on, f*** off, you old mug!

I know who I am now.

Show me, then.

All right, for f***'s sake.

Hurry up, lazy bollocks.

It's Millwall today.

You all right?

I'm sweet, mate. I'm f***in' buzzing.

This is it.

What's wrong?

You look like you've seen a ghost.

Listen, Zeb. Listen, listen.

You... You'd better just...

What, Tom?

F***ing hell, Tom, what had I better do?

Just look after yourself.

It might turn ugly.

Don't worry about me.

I'm gonna be a f***in' hero.

Liven up, we've got to meet the others.

I tell you, it's a f***in' buzz! Come on!

Here, Tom, where's Rod?

F*** knows. You all right?

Yeah. Couldn't sleep, could I?

F***in' buzzing.

The wretch from Penge had got her claws in,

and only a miracle could bring him back.

But I couldn't see it happening.

I'd lost him when I needed him most.

And not even someone of Rod's calibre

woud have the bottle to say...

That espresso's really kicked in.

Darling you don't drink espresso.

Tell me more about the air conditioning,

Rodney. I'm fascinated.

Air conditioning?

You told me you run an

air-conditioning firm.

Well, we have a few vans out on jobs at once

most of the time.

Well, it's always busier in the summer.

Nothing like a soaring temperature

to help the work.

Anyway, most of the time I just sit

around the office, waiting for the weekend.

Don't get me wrong.

I love the money the job pays.

But my real passion lies

in kicking people's f***ing heads in at football.

See, I've got to channel it somewhere,

and as you can tell by my bulging stomach,

I don't participate in too

many sporting activities.

And I don't do drugs.

Well, that's not entirely true,

but not a lot.

So, I need my release, and a good f***in' fight

seems the best way. Wouldn't you agree?

Maybe not

At least I wouldn't be walking around like you -

f***in' horrible c*nts with sticks up your arses,

trying to pretend your little

suburban nightmare's all right.

Then again,

it just depends which way you look at it.

Mate, can we have the...

No, I'll...

Rod! I f***in' knew you'd make it!

Wouldn't miss it for the world, mate.

There's a f***in' shot, man.

You lot f***in' ready for us, or what?

Well, let's see how game you really are.

So, come and find us, then, shithead.

Oh, and be careful.

Remember you're gonna be in deep south.

Away from all the crowds

and the ready eye.

So, watch your f***in' backs.

- F***in' hell!

- Let's have it!

Hello, Tom.

What's happening, Joe boy?

Everything's sweet round here.

- Where's Harris?

- On his way from South Bermondsey.

Get yourself up on the bridge lively.

Later on. Bye.

- Hello, Joe, son. Where are you?

- On the bridge. It's all quiet down here.

Keep your eyes peeled.

Well be there soon.

Give you a bell if I see anything.

- Crack on.

- Speak to you later.

- Right. Here you are. It's sweet.

- Other end of the bridge, lively.

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