Walk Like a Panther Page #6

Synopsis: A group of 1980s wrestlers are forced to don the lycra once last time when their beloved local pub is threatened with closure.
 
Rotten Tomatoes:
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Year:
2018
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- It was me what?

The TV executives

didn't stop me wrestling.

No, it was you.

I'm off the clock.

Jog on.

Look, me dad told me.

He said he told you

not to put me in the ring.

The only place

I've ever wanted to be.

You're a filthy dog, Popsy!

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Come on, son,

calm down.

- Calm down, lad. Calm down. Calm down.

- MARK:
No!

I couldn't argue with your dad.

And I'm sorry, Mark.

Were you all in on this?

How could youse?

Well, you're gonna

make it up to me.

- All of you!

- Anything.

- They're planning on closing The Nelson.

- ALL:
What?

MARK:

Our pub.

They wanna close our pub.

- No way. They're not doing it.

- No, no.

So we do this,

and every penny goes

to the "Save the Nelson Fund."

- Absolutely, yeah.

- DANNY:
Except ice cream sales.

- No, what?

- DEREK:
Come on.

Okay, including

ice cream sales. Sorry.

The Ginger Storm, yeah,

has to be the greatest

show of our lives.

It's not about lining

your pockets, Wilson.

- Okay.

- MARK:
It's about saving our community.

Because if that pub goes...

we all go.

And then we're left

with nothin'.

Absolutely nothing.

It's not just

about the ticket sales.

We can...

We can sell merchandise.

Like T-shirts, and badges,

and stuff like that.

And every penny can go

towards The Nelson.

- LARA:
Great idea.

- Save The Nelson!

GROUP (SHOUTING):

Save The Nelson!

Save The Nelson!

Save The Nelson!

Save The Nelson!

Save The Nelson!

- (CHEERING)

- (WHISTLE BLOWING)

Enough!

Jog...

- for The Nelson.

- MARK:
For the Nelson!

That's enough. Come on!

With me! Let's go!

- (GROUP SHOUTING)

- LARA:
Go on.

ZIGGY:

God Almighty!

- Good, aren't they?

- Oh, my good God.

I've seen pensioners

run better than this.

POPSY:
A few of them are, nearly.

Huh? Eh?

GLORIA:
Come on, Tony!

Come on, Tony!

Well done,

well done, well done.

Well done, Dawn.

Oh, good. Come on, come on.

Well done, well done.

- That's his son.

- Piss off.

(LAUGHING)

The only thing that

this lot is gonna be ready for

in three weeks is another portion

of pie and chips and kebab.

(SIGHS)

Blow yourself,

honey bunny.

That's the universe

pissing on you.

Here. Here.

Ah! You...

I meant that.

I meant that!

This is ridiculous.

Can't train in this field.

We're gonna need

some proper digs.

Where am I supposed to magic

that from, Mark?

MARK:

Dawn.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

(CHATTERING STOPS)

Gents...

come with me.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

We need to get

those down for starters.

MARGARET:
Right, where

do you want it?

- Oh!

- (GASPS) Oh!

(LAUGHING)

TREVOR:

Oi!

How many times

you need telling?

BRONSON:
What are you on about, mate?

We're supposed to be doing this.

H:
Don't believe us? Ask your mates.

They're all in there.

Ask them, they'll

tell you, you div.

- I'll do you, you little wazzock.

- H:
Whatever, granddad.

- No, no, no, no.

- (GEARS GRINDING)

Oi, you Judas Priests.

Oi, you can put that paint

down, you bunch of traitors.

I'm gonna burn this place down, you lot.

Wayne, let's go now.

No, no, no, no, he...

he don't need to go.

- You what?

- She said he don't need to come with you.

They've seen the light, Rickson.

They ride with the Panthers now.

Ride with the Panthers?

- Sounds like a bender band.

- (BRONSON AND H GROAN)

RICKY:

No offense, Dawn.

None taken.

(ALL GROANING)

It's your sequel, mate.

- I need me bike. I need...

- DAWN:
Walk.

Try and Houdini your way

out of that one.

- Can I just get me bike? Me bike?

- Walk! Walk!

DANNY:
That's the last

Dawn he's gonna see.

DAWN:
Listen. I'm gonna let you go now.

All right?

If I have to grips you up again,

I will Boston crab your arse.

- RICKY:
All right.

- WAYNE:
Bye-bye, Rickson.

- BRONSON:
In a bit, mate.

- (LAUGHTER)

- You're all dead, man!

- H:
See you, Ricky.

- (WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

- "D-E"...

(ALL GROAN)

(RICKY MOANING)

Oh, no, no, no.

RICKY:

Help me, please.

You broke us '99.

- RICKY:
Fannies.

- You can bloody pay for this, Rickson!

- (THUD)

- (RICKY MOANS)

You tosser.

Look at that.

- DANNY:
Bloody hell.

- Don't worry. Come on.

What's this?

You know

what it is.

All right. What's it for?

Indulge me.

You get some sort of kick

out of this, don't you?

Eh.

Margaret and I are buying

The Nelson for Mark.

- Keep it going.

- Well, isn't that just sweet.

Come on, Paul.

Let's get

this thing done.

You can't buy the pub because

you work for the brewery.

It's against protocol,

you know that.

Then I'll resign.

Well, I'll need that

in writing.

My goodness, you are

prepared today, aren't you?

Thank you, Trevor.

So we're buying

The Nelson,

and then me

and you are done.

Yes.

Yes, we are.

But no, you're not buying

The Nelson.

You see, this check

is for 110 grand.

- It's the asking price.

- Yes.

But the Bowers' offer...

is 137,500 English pounds.

Forgive me

for being presumptive,

but I'm leaning

towards the fact

that you haven't got another 30 grand

secreted about your person today?

Yes?

You see, this...

just isn't enough.

Shame.

I told you I wasn't gonna let someone

like you stand in my way, Trevor.

And I really did mean that.

- That all?

- You...

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

- So you got Glenn?

- MARK:
Mm-hmm.

- Sweet Cheeks?

- Yep.

- Yeah, Lara's letting him do it.

- (DOOR SLAMS)

- Yeah? (LAUGHS)

- Yep.

- Yeah, she is.

- That's great.

(BOTH LAUGH)

All right, Dad?

What you doing here, Mark?

Trevor.

What, can't I... can't I visit

me mum and dad anymore?

I thought you might

fancy a pint.

Where? I'm barred

from your place.

Yeah, well, as the landlord,

I'm unbarring you.

You know, we've, uh...

we've got a plan to save the

pub, and we need you, Dad.

There's no saving The Nelson.

Peterson's made his mind up.

Right then. Well, listen

to what your son has to say.

I don't need to listen!

I know what the plan is.

They're all completely mad.

You wanted to stop him wrestling

just as much as I did.

Yes, well,

the difference now, Trevor,

is that we'd be more worried about

you getting hurt than Mark.

It's all right, Mum.

I'm not gonna beg him.

I'm not a kid anymore.

And you're not the man

I thought you was.

You stood up at Ginger's wake,

and you told everyone

that he'd given me everything

a father was obliged to give.

Everything you hadn't

given me.

And then you raised a glass to our

dead mate, and you drank to that.

You knew how much

he meant to me.

You know, and now he's gone...

(BREATHES SHAKILY)

and you still can't take

the baton, can you?

Do you know what? Sometimes

I wish Ginger was me dad.

No offense, Mum.

Come on, let's go.

- Where you going?

- For a f***ing pint.

(SIGHS)

Jesus.

What do you know

What do you feel

What do you give

When your heart

is empty?

What do you see

Nothing is real

How can you live

When your heart

is empty?

And the grass seems

greener over there

The people stop,

they stop and stare at you

And look right through

And what you'd give

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Dan Cadan

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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