Walk Like a Panther Page #2

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don't you dare mock that lady.

And do not mock the art

of close protection.

Do you know how many people

would be dead without it?

No.

Loads, that's who.

Reagan, Ronald, President.

Charles, prince,

future king of England.

De Courcey, Roger,

puppeteer.

Roger De Courcey?

Who tried to kill him?

Bingley Working Men's Club,

Christmas '98.

Mousetrap in Nookie's shaft.

Someone with steady hands,

'cause it were well-balanced.

POPSY:

My dear Mr. Morris,

we all know you're harder

than a copper's knock.

- Ghali, Boutros Boutros...

- TREVOR:
Leave it, Cliff.

I'm like a shadow,

you can't see me.

Out of me way,

you smelly biddies.

(PEOPLE GROANING)

H:

What you looking at? Move.

RICKY:
Change, bar wench.

Fifties, now.

Are you deaf?

- He said "50s."

- 'Nuff fifties.

Why don't you go home,

eh, Rickson...

before your tag

starts beeping?

Who's talking to you,

knobhead?

Anyway, it's well taken off.

Proper good behavior.

- Rickson, get out of here before I...

- Before you what?

- Wet me up with your senior railcard?

- (BRONSON AND H SNICKERING)

Ah, I didn't

think so, duck.

Look at you all.

You bunch of sad,

washed up divs.

Crying about

that ginger tosser.

- Hey, you!

- Dad!

CLIFF:
Oh, where do you

think you're going?

Hey!

Back off, old man!

(CROWD CHEERS)

Go on, Bulldog! Go on!

(RICKY SCREAMS)

TREVOR:

I've had enough of you, Rickson.

That's it, Bulldog,

that's it. Hey, boy!

- Get off!

- Dad!

Get off!

(GRUNTS)

- Oh!

- Go on, Bulldog. Just like the old days, right!

- Too old. Way too old.

- You never encouraged me.

Dad, tag me, tag me.

- TREVOR:
Cliff, you're on.

- MARGARET:
Don't forget our Mark.

MARK:

Go on, Cliff!

(CROWD GROANS)

TONY:
Sweet Cheeks is up next!

LARA:
No, you're not. You'll

probably sh*t yourself.

What you doing?

(YELLS)

RICKY:

All of you, you fannies...

- (RICKY GROANS)

- (CROWD LAUGHS)

Yeah, yeah, me. Me.

Me, Cliff. My turn.

CROWD (CHANTING):

Zulu, Zulu, Zulu...

RICKY:

Have some of this.

- (CROWD GROANING)

- MAN:
That was a mistake, son.

That was a mistake.

(RICKY WHIMPERS)

- (RICKY GROANS)

- (DAWN SIGHS)

(LAUGHING)

Bronson, come on,

let's go.

Shut up, you tosser.

This is gold.

CROWD (CHANTING):

Boston Crab. Boston Crab.

Zulu!

- Boston Crab. Boston Crab.

- (CHUCKLING)

Yes! Yes, me now! Me now!

DANNY:
Come on, let's

have a look at you.

MARK:

Tag me now!

Who's been a naughty boy?

(CROWD GROANING)

MAN:
Stay down, lad, stay down.

CROWD (CHANTING):

Easy! Easy! Easy! Easy!

(CROWD WHOOPING)

Yes, Glenn. Yes, Glenn.

I think he's had enough now,

Mark, don't you?

TREVOR:

Right, Ricky Rickson.

That's what we in the business

call a public warning.

Now get this numpty

out of our pub.

(CHEERS AND APPLAUSE)

Well done, pal.

There's life

in the old dog yet.

(DANNY AND TREVOR LAUGHING)

Did you notice then they couldn't

even properly take me down, mate?

See my moves, H?

Saw you move to the floor

a couple of times, yeah.

Right, well, they was me escaping moves,

if you haven't actually noticed that.

Got some proper

decent digs in, mate.

Bam, bam, bam, bam!

Where was you, mate?

Where was your back-up?

Well, I...

I proper couldn't get

through the crowd, mate.

Because Gladys and Pat were

holding you back, were they?

Yeah? Is that

what was going on?

No, well, what I was saying was

is you probably couldn't see,

what I was up to

because I'm so swift,

I'm so fast, I'm like...

I'm like lightning.

And I... I took it easy on

them because they're so old,

and because they're grieving, and all

their loss and all that bollocks.

But next time,

mate, you watch.

It's Full Force

Ricky Rickson, mate!

- RICKY (SHOUTS): Jesus!

- You all right?

RICKY:
Get off, get off me.

Get off.

- WAYNE:
All right?

- (RICKY CRYING)

- RICKY:
I'm not crying, am I? I'm not crying.

- WAYNE:
You look like you are.

ROCKY:
I don't cry. I've

never cried once in me life.

I've never cried. Never do it.

Not even at school.

MARK:
You know, I'm not

just some div, Mum.

They knew how much

I wanted that.

And they still didn't tag me.

I could've showed them

I know what I can do.

- I could have been buzzing with them.

- Yeah, you could.

But you're buzzing with me.

- (DOOR OPENS)

- (MARK GROANS)

Bloody hell.

Good boy.

Gloria.

GLORIA:
Is he okay? He

must be devastated.

Yeah, he's here

and he's fine.

- Oh, God, he needs me.

- Well, maybe not tonight, love.

In the words of Dina Carroll,

"If only for tonight."

And I won't be

a stranger, Margaret.

Not anymore.

- (GLORIA CLEARS HER THROAT)

- Ah, okay.

Well... if it isn't Chucky

and his mum.

That thing freaks me out.

GLORIA:
Don't you ever talk about

our son like that. Tell her, Tony.

Well, this is not

the time or place, ladies.

And, Gloria, we don't

even know if he's mine.

How can you say that?

Look at his princely mane.

It's the absolute spit of yours.

- Cherub yellow with a MacGyver twist.

- LARA:
You're right.

He has got beautiful hair, Gloria.

So soft.

Like fresh butter

wrapped in cashmere.

If Aphrodite had a sewing kit,

this would be her thread.

- (HAIR SNAPS)

- Oh, Tony, babe, are you okay?

How could you?

You could bald him.

It's Ginger's wake!

I know, and I'm here,

to guide you through that devastation.

Don't worry.

My shoulders, my everything,

are yours to cry on.

Not so good at taking

hints, are we, Giles?

Not so good at anything,

are we, Anderson?

Apart from failure, oh yeah,

and being a slut.

Uh, failure? A Song For

Europe, 1989 regional finals?

Little song by the name

of "Submit to My Love"?

- Remind you of anything?

- Aye. Nil points.

Hit Man and Her, featured dancer.

Bullseye, special prize model.

Watsons Biscuit,

poster girl.

And my choice of lovers

is definitely a success.

Isn't it?

- I said, "isn't it," Tony?

- GLORIA:
He doesn't love you.

You lured him,

and then you trapped him.

You're like

a penis fly trap.

- With your sex tractor beam.

- Meaning?

Meaning that's not an

attraction, it's an affliction.

You've got bigger labs

than NASA.

Gloria, love, I think maybe we should

take the little fella home, no?

Back off, Bolton!

This is between me,

him and our son.

There never was, or ever will be,

anything between you and Tony,

except a restraining order.

And that is not his son.

GLORIA:
Well, I'm gonna have him tested.

And then I'll have my proof.

What? Why... Why do you

wanna do that for, then?

GLORIA:
Because Tony

Junior deserves a legacy.

He deserves your legacy.

GLENN:
Come on, Gloria, love,

let's leave it for tonight.

I was leaving anyway.

That's right, Gloria Giles,

keep on walking.

And whilst you're lying

in your lonely bed tonight,

just remember whose sweet

cheeks I'll be cupping in mine.

- TONY:
Put a sock in it, can't you, Lara?

- Tell you what.

If I ever find out that

that is your son,

you will never

enter me again.

Give me someone

with a soupon of talent.

(LAUGHTER AND GROWLING

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