Three And Out Page #5

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I don't see it.

Underground most of the time.

Underground?

Er, yeah. I'm a tube driver too.

A writer who also drives a tube train, eh?

Very glamorous.

Research for your novel, I suppose.

Yeah. That's right. It's all about a tube driver.

Handsome, comes to the Lake District,

meets this feisty, young girl

who gives him a really f***ing hard time,

and they get drunk.

Oh, yeah? How does it end?

Tragically.

Oh!

Hello, Paul's phone.

No, I'm sorry, he can't get to the phone

right now. Can I take a message?

Oh... OK. Bye.

Some foreign bloke says he makes

tasty crackling and you shouldn't be afraid.

- What's that all about?

- It's... just... a mate.

He's a chef. Wants me to try a new recipe.

See? I don't know any fancy foreign chefs.

Don't tell me it's not exciting living in London.

It's not exciting living in London.

- Oh, come on. It must be.

- It's not.

It's like some huge ant hill

where nothing works properly.

Millions of people just getting in

each other's way. No space, no air.

So, why don't you leave?

I'm trying, but it's hard. With money

it's bearable, but if you're skint, you're trapped.

Try living here.

Everybody knows you,

knows everything about you.

Nothing changes, nothing ever happens.

Their idea of a good time is getting

sh*t-faced as quickly as possible

and then shag anyone who'll let them,

and then do it all again tomorrow.

Now, that's being trapped.

To escaping.

To escaping.

And a big, fat win on the lottery.

- What?

- I was just thinking about Wicklow.

What about Wicklow?

When you disgraced yourself

running round half naked?

No, not that. The singing competition.

Oh, you were a star that night.

My Rosemary. First prize.

- Sing for me, Rose.

- Hm?

- Sing for me.

- Get away out of that.

- Do you think I'm the Rose of feckin' Tralee?

- Go on. Please.

I can't, Tommy. Jesus, it's been years.

Course you can. You've a gorgeous voice.

Please. For me.

Not like that. Do it properly.

Like you did in Wicklow.

Now, go on.

You're a menace, Tommy Cassidy.

Oh, please ne'er forget me...

... Though the waves now lie o'er me

I was once young and pretty

And my spirit ran free

But destiny tore me

from country and loved ones

And from the dear land

I was never to see

A poor immigrant's daughter

Too frightened to know

She was leaving forever

The land of her soul

Now, that's all you're getting.

It's more than you deserve.

Beautiful.

- I can die a happy man now I've heard that.

- You'll outlive us all.

Only the good die young.

- Quiet, isn't it?

- It's the country.

- It's always quiet.

- Yeah, but... it's a bit creepy, really.

Yeah.

Where were you planning

on staying tonight? Or weren't you?

Ah... You know...

I'll find somewhere.

I'll sleep in the car.

You know me. I can sleep on a rope.

You're a feckin' torment, Tommy.

Well, look at that sky. Look!

- There's a shooting star.

- That's a satell...

A satellite, yeah. I know. I was just checking.

I saw two shooting stars last night.

- # I wished on them...

- #... but they were only satellites

It's wrong to wish on space hardware

I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care

I don't want to change the world

I'm not looking for a new England

I'm just looking for another girl

Thanks.

Come on. Let's get home.

No, Tommy.

- You smell gorgeous.

- I said no.

You know you love it.

A bit of the old Tommy magic.

It doesn't work anymore, Tom.

Sh*t. Ooh, sh*t!

Wait... Why me?

- 'Cause you're different.

- OK.

My love, you got me spinning

like a wind-up toy

Hot kiss, won't you tell me

what you miss, boy?

My love, you got me spinning

like a wind-up toy

Oh, Father! I pray to thee!

I got a man, so blind I can't see

I'm his favourite toy

Like a beach ball

Bang it up and down

Or throw it against the wall

"Oh, Tallulah," he said

"You're so dramatic!"

"What's all that shakin'

goin' on in your attic?"...

... My love, you got me spinning

like a wind-up toy

Hot kiss, won't you tell me

what you miss, boy?

My love, you got me spinning

like a wind-up toy

You can't knock it, or rock it, or be-bop it

It's an itch you can't scratch

Nothing's gonna stop it...

Oh... you're up.

I thought I'd bring you a cup of tea.

Er... come and sit down, Tom.

There's... something I'd better tell you.

I'm going to divorce you, Tommy...

...'cause I want to get married again.

He's...

He's a good man.

He lives in the next village.

He's a plumber.

Oh, come on. You didn't think

I wanted to grow old on my own.

Well, speak to me, then.

I'll bring this in to Frances.

She'll probably be glad of a cuppa.

- Frances, can I come in?

- No. Go away.

Oh, please. Hear me out, Frankie,

will you? I brought a nice cup of...

- Did you listen? I said no.

- Please. I just want to talk. Huh?

Here...

I don't know where to start. Er...

Maybe I should let you talk.

You tell me what you feel

- and... and... and how I let you down.

- Please, not now.

Right, right. It's not my call. Er...

Erm... the thing is, Frances...

I hate meself for what I've done.

Much more than you ever could.

You know?

I know that doesn't change anything

or make it better... God, I'm terrible at this!

All I want to say is...

I've been... a terrible father...

but... that doesn't mean I, er...

don't care or... feel...

What the f***?

Jesus! You...

Get out! Get out!

- Get out of my room!

- Stop it!

- Don't start!

- Get out!

He was in the bed!

I don't care, don't even...

- What do you mean?

- Paul!

Bastard. Oh... oh, f***!

Come back, you little bastard!

I'll take a f***ing bar to you!

Good morning, Father.

I'm gaining on you, you little f***er!

I'll rip your f***ing head off,

you little bollix.

Oh! Jesus Christ!

Tommy, let's just talk about this.

- Be reasonable.

- Oh, I'll be reasonable.

I'll be very reasonable.

Ha!

I've got you now, you little sh*t.

- You're the one that said "seize the day!"

- Seize the day... not me feckin' daughter!

You weren't that bothered two days

ago. She won't even talk to you.

Jesus... I could kill you!

Oh, f***! Oh, sh*t! Oh, f***!

Don't drop me! Please, don't drop me!

Me own f***in' daughter!

What's so f***ing funny?

You! Us! Life!

Life... huh? Is that what you call it?

Start leading one,

instead of following one around.

You're the one who's topping himself.

Like you give a f***.

- You never even asked me why.

- Because I don't care.

Think you're the only one who's ever

screwed up? Well, boo-hoo-hoo, Tommy.

Life sometimes sucks and that's that,

but not all of us have so much

self-pity we need to kill ourselves.

How the f*** would you know?

With your head stuck up your arse all day!

How the f*** would I know?

'Cause I'm standing on a bridge in the middle of

f*** knows where, covered in cow sh*t,

fighting a fat, old Irishman dressed in a kimono.

And all because his daughter hates him

and seems to quite like me.

Come on.

Budge up.

Come on, now.

Come on.

Here.

For f***'s sake.

Hey! Where are you going?

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