The Riot Club Page #6

- Jesus, just look at mine.

- Thank you.

Lauren...

"I need you to rescue me.

"Can you put on a dress

and come to the Bull's Head, Kidsbury?

"Kiss, kiss, kiss, Miles."

Honestly, some fuckwit has

nicked my phone and texted you.

You said you needed me and I came.

I think that makes me a nice person.

It does, it does, you know.

Excuse me, sorry, excuse me.

Um...

Uh, I'm sorry, Lauren.

But this is a mistake. So...

I think I'm gonna put you in a taxi...

No, no, no, she's only just arrived.

Where are your manners, Milo?

- Harry...

- Seriously, calm down, sit down.

Lauren, please, have a drink.

Here.

Oh, this is nice.

So, now, Lauren,

my friend here has a question for you.

Hi.

Hello!

How would you like to make 300 tonight?

What?

Oh, my God, is he going to ask her? Legend.

You see...

We had this...

We had this lady friend, um, boo,

the landlord sent her away.

- Guys, please, don't...

- What sort of lady friend?

- Service industry.

- Just a few blow jobs.

- OK, it's my girlfriend, can you just stop?

- Oh, sorry, sorry.

I didn't realise you were,

you know, exclusive.

What was it you said earlier?

"Girls for now, girls for later."

- I didn't say that.

- Yes, you did.

I didn't say that! I didn't say it!

Chaps, chaps.

I think that's a bit insulting

to Lauren, actually.

Three hundred quid?

No, no, surely it should be something

that actually makes a difference?

- Like, um...

- Dimitri, please.

Twenty-seven grand?

What?

It's three years' tuition fees.

Just for a few blow jobs.

Spicy.

I'm serious.

Give me your account number,

I will do a transfer right now.

Miles?

- I, um...

- Yeah?

It's up to you.

Sorry?

No, no, no, you're right...

It's up to me?

No, no, no, I'm sorry,

I just thought for a second,

for a moment, I just thought

it's a fuckload of money.

What, and I'm the sort of scrubber

who'd take it?

No, no, I didn't think

it was my decision to make.

Um, can I get you a taxi?

- Can you let me out, please?

- What is it, Lauren?

You're too good for us?

We've got the finest sperm

in the country in this room,

you should be paying us

to let you drink it.

What are you saying? What are you doing?

Whoa, whoa, jokes. Lauren...

Jokes.

Do you not do humour at state school?

What?

You think we'd touch you with a bargepole?

Wouldn't f*** her with a bargepole.

That is f***ing offensive.

Let her out, guys.

Let her out.

Oh, no, sorry, it's, uh, it's pull.

Stop it.

For f***'s sake, stop it.

Anyone else?

Lauren!

Lauren.

You're wasted, you're wasted.

Rach...

Rachel.

We'll talk about it in the morning, Dad.

Go help yourself to a pint if you want.

Best get back, thanks,

the little one's teething.

Unless you need help handling those lads.

What? No. I'll be fine.

Go on, get home.

See ya.

Go on, Paul, I'll empty that.

- See you on Monday.

- See ya.

While you're under

my roof, you'll respect my rules.

Well, I've got a new rule for you, mate,

it's called "F*** you, we're the Riot Club".

This bourgeois outrage when

we do anything, say anything.

Anything we ever build or achieve,

anything with the slightest whiff

of magnificence,

how did they get everywhere,

how did they make everything

so f***ing second-rate?

Thinking they're better

because there's more of them.

That's not sweat on their palms,

it's envy, it's resentment.

And it stinks like a f***ing drain.

- Hear, hear.

- That's right.

I am sick to f***ing death of poor people.

Yeah, f***ing yes.

Lauren? It's me.

Please call me back.

I'm really...

I thought you'd gone.

Was it you that texted her?

Of course not.

Whatever thing it is you have

for me, you need to f***ing...

- I'm straight, yeah?

- Yeah, I got that.

I'm not your f***ing rent boy.

No one forced you into this.

You wanted to come.

Come on, boys, back to the trenches.

Come on, Milo, Milo.

I can't hear enough smashing.

More smash, more trashing.

Oh, Jesus.

Jesus Christ.

What have you done?

You've broken my bulls.

- What the hell are you doing?

- No, no, no, don't worry.

- Don't worry?

- We're going to pay you, we always pay.

What gave you the right...

Oh, sit down.

Take the knife off him.

Chaps, let's all be gentlemen, shall we?

Shut up and listen.

Now, this, this is how it works.

You go back out there quietly,

we do this and we pay you very generously.

People let you do this?

Most people are smart enough

to take the treats and shut up.

I don't want your money.

Then what are you trying to do

with this tawdry little cum-shack?

People like you

think you can buy your way out

of everything, don't you?

- You think the world just revolves...

- Oh, I know, I know.

You're torn up inside

cos you think you don't like me.

News for you.

You f***ing love me.

You'd like to be me,

you just can't quite admit it, can you?

Chip on your shoulder much?

You're no better than a bunch of kids

breaking shop windows.

You're just spoiled little brats.

Oops.

Sh*t, Villiers, get the door, get the door.

Come on.

No, no, no, no.

Wouldn't want you to be out of pocket.

Go, go, go, go.

F***.

Bowler.

Come on.

Toby, Toby, Toby, Toby.

It's OK.

Guys...

What the, the f*** are you doing?

He was pushing me all night.

Jesus f***ing Christ, is he breathing?

Yeah. Just.

Ambulance, please.

Hang up, Milo. Milo, hang up the phone.

The Bull's Head, Kidsbury.

- Somebody's unconscious.

- Wait. Say he fell. Say he fell.

He was punched.

F***'s sakes, Richards.

I'm gonna be sick.

Mate, they'll send the police,

you said there's been a fight.

F***.

Right, guys, listen,

nobody says anything to them, OK?

I think it's pretty f***ing obvious

what's happened.

Just say, "No comment", yes?

Get the money out.

I didn't do this. I didn't do this.

Mate, it's the club, right?

We all did this.

Did you say anything?

Nothing.

You?

Uh-uh.

Mate.

Remember when you did the bedroom trash?

Yeah.

Whose room did you do first?

Why?

Is this your driver?

I'll tell you in the car.

- Are you a relative?

- I don't need to see him,

I just want to find out if he's OK...

The f*** are you doing here?

See how much trouble you're in?

It's all right. It's going to be fine.

Thank you very much.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, I'm sorry,

I just wanted to check, is he...

Is he what? Is he dead?

- Is he dead?

- No.

Now get back in your Bentley and f*** off.

One of his lungs has collapsed.

He's got a blood clot in his brain.

F***.

Two broken ribs. Collarbone.

Several fingers, broken nose,

ruptured spleen, internal bleeding.

Right now they're trying to

save the sight in his left eye,

does that answer your f***ing question?

Yes.

Dad.

They're asking if you

can remember anything.

Who hit you?

I don't know.

They all look the same.

- Where's Miles?

- I don't know.

So, what do we do?

Wait.

My lawyer says they'll call us back for

second interviews if they find anything.

They'll find fingerprints

and things, won't they?

Ivan says we carry on. Say nothing.

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