Sweet Sixteen Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Sweet Sixteen script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie by Ken Loach.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Sweet Sixteen. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Sweet Sixteen Script


           - Who wants a show? - Me!

           25p a go. Pay Pinball.

          Get in a line. First in. Get in the back, you. Move. Money.

          Do you not want a shot? Get in the queue.

          - Have you paid? Sure you've paid? - Aye.

          - See anything? - Aye.

           Time's up.

            See the big one? That's Saturn.

            - You see it yet? - No. Still stars.

            - Still stars. - There?

            - Still stars? - How about now?

            Still stars.

            That big one's Saturn. You can tell by its rings. Next.

            Who's paid?

            Pinball, have they paid?

            Aye. They get five seconds because they paid half.

            - What do you see? - Stars.

            I'll put it in your pocket.

            - I'm putting 25 pence in your pocket. - Get out there. Move.

            You know how long a day is up there?

            - Ten hours, 14 minutes. - Aye.

            - Fuck-all time up in Saturn. - There's not much time, young man. Next.

            There you go, mate.

            - You looking for cheap fags? - What kind are they? No.

            - Make you look better than you already do. - No, thanks. Not my kind.

            - Hiya, ladies. - Do you want to buy any cheap fags?

            These will prevent heart disease.

            Here, mate. Over    even help you with a hard-on. Ladies.

            Right. Thanks for doing business.

            Cheap cigarettes?

            Cheap fags?

            Tom, the wee boys are back in again.

            Hey, you two! Come on. That's two or three times you've been up here flogging stuff.

            We're keeping your customers satisfied.

            Out the door, Simon and Garfunkel, out you go!

            Don't get in a strop, you cunt.

            You want some, eh? Here's to you, Mrs Robinson.

            - How you going? - Fucking buzzing, man.

            - Magic. Empty bag. Empty bag. - Do you want this load?

            - Shit. It's the coppers. - Bastards.

            What do you want to do? Want to stand about?

            - Hold on a minute. - Where are you going?

            What's he doing?

            All right, mate?

            - Is it all right to go, son? - Brand new. Aye.

            What the fuck...? You little bastard! You wee bastard!

            Oh, fucking brilliant! Super fuck.

            Don't you use your fucking mirrors?

            - How am I suppose to see that? - Fucking hell. Look at the state of it!

            - It's a fucking gateway! - For fuck's sake. Where's my helmet?

            It was... There's the wee bastard with your helmet.

            - He's coming! Go! - Stop!

            - Stop! - For fuck's sake, man!

            Give it up, boys!

            Stop!

            Christ, look at the time.

            Do you know what time it is, eh?

            We're late! That's what the time is, you little prick.

            What did I tell you? Do you never listen?

            - Where were you? - Out.

            - Is that all you can say? Out? - Your granddad's talking to you.

            You know your ma's gonna be worried sick.

            She's gonna be wondering where the fuck we are.

            Put that in your mouth.

            - Top of your teeth. - Tell him to fucking do it.

            Do as you're fucking told! I've had enough of you today. Stick it up in your gums.

            Press it in. Flatten it.

            OK. The other side.

            Let's see it. Look at me.

            Smile.

            I said fucking smile!

            That's better. Looks like a friendly wee hamster.

            Right. When we get in there, right... Happy families, OK?

            I'll go for coffee.

            Come back with the coffee.

            Wee accident. Coffee spills.

            I jump up, Granddad jumps back. Right?

            In all the confusion, you kiss your ma, pass it over. Have you got that?

            That looks nice.

            Take your cap off.

            Thanks. Spread out your arms.

            That's great. Cheers. Grab your stuff. Table five, guys.

              - Hi, son. All right, Dad? - All right, darling? How's it going?

              - Good to see you, hen. - All right, angel face?

              How are you doing? Did you think we were not coming?

              It's good to see you. We got a bit held up.

              Liam. Liam?

              All right.

              Liam, what are you sitting over there for? Come over.

              His face has been tripping all the way over here.

              How are you getting on at school?

              - School?! - He's a right regular wee scholar!

              He's not been inside school for nine months.

              So who fancies a wee cup of coffee?

              - I'd love one. - Milk and one sugar?

              - You remembered. - I'll have a wee one.

              - We've missed her, son, haven't we? - Aye.

              You all right, Mum? What's wrong with you?

              - Come on, you can tell me. - I'm all right.

              - Somebody giving you a hard time in here? - No.

              - Are you clean? - You know I've been clean for years.

              - What are you saying that for? - What the fuck is this all about, then?

              Stan set it up. It's for the women in here. It's not for me.

              Ma?

              Stan set it up for the women and he gets a fortune off their boyfriends.

              You're caught with this, it's six months minimum.

              You can't last another six months in here.

              - Do they strip search you? - They pick a couple of us at random.

              - What are you going to do if they pick you? - Just swallow it. I've done it before.

              This isn't going on anymore. It's finished.

              - What are you gonna do? - You took the rap once for that bastard.

              He's gonna be pissed off when I don't do this.

              Whatever he says, don't get upset.

              - Liam, don't start, eh? - Mam...

              - For fuck's sake, man! - Liam, give your ma a hug.

              Got a cloth? Sorry about the language.

              I can't believe myself sometimes. I'm like a bull in a china shop.

              I can't believe I just did that. Here. Drink your coffee.

              Rab, go and get us another cup.

              I'll sit with my wee friend here.

              What do you think of your boy?

              Wanna give your ma a kiss?

              Fucking tell him.

              Give your ma a kiss.

              Gramps, don't we have a laugh with him?

              Och, a laugh a minute. A right comedian. Don't need the telly when he's about.

              Kiss your fucking mother.

              - See you later, Ma. - Liam, please don't.

              If you don't kiss your mother goodbye, you little cunt,

              I'm going to beat your fucking arse all the way home.

              - Kiss your fucking mother, you little cunt! - Stan, calm down.

              - See you later, Mum. - Liam?

              Let him go.

              Do you know how much that's fucking cost me?

              Give us the gear.

              - You want the fucking gear? - Hand it over.

              - Fucking get the gear! - You little fucker!

              Don't hit him in the face. His fucking ma will see it. You fucking idiot!

              Fucking idiot.

              Whoa! That's fucking enough. You fucking idiot, you.

              - Come on. - That's enough. Where's the fucking gear?

              Next time you'll be walking like Charlie Chaplin!

              I'll break your legs, you wee cunt!

              It never went as far as that.

              Fuck, he threw it over the fence there. Ah, you bastard!

              For fuck's sake! A fucking Laurel and Hardy fucking family!

              - Get over the fucking fence. - My fucking balls is caught!

              Fucking feeble, you cunts!

              Just you wait!

              - Hi, Liam. - Hi, Hazel.

              - What's wrong? - Nothing, hen.

              You sure?

              Been keeping an eye out for you. You all right?

              Liam?

              Sure?

              Take a bag. I phoned Chantelle, she knows we're coming.

              Hey, boy!

              That's your lot. Get it, get to fuck, and don't came back near this door again!

              My fucking caring grandfather, eh?

              My own fucking flesh and blood. Bastard.

              I love your fucking grandpa. He's so funny.

              Here, you old bastard. How's your balls, you cunt? Are they sore?

              - You'll give the place a bad name. - Shut up.

              Did you dye your hair as well, blondie?

              - Who was that? - What was all that?

              - They started it. - Don't forget I've got to live here.

              - Hello. - Get in.

              Hi.

              Stop staring!

              - Who's the bird? - The bird can speak for herself, wee man.

              Sorry. "Wee man"?

              - It's Suzanne. - That's a nice name.

              That's my brother Liam and his pal Pinball.

              - I met Suzanne at my night class. - What night class?

              - The call centre one. - That one we were going to do.

              Oh, that      one!

              Oh, where are you going?

              There's no rush. Sit down.

              - I can stick the kettle on. - It's all right. Chantelle, I'll phone you.

              - I'll phone you, if I get the number! - What are you like?

              - Is she away? - Don't go to the window!

              - Is she there? - Aye. Och, man. Look at that.

              Get away from the window.

              No, Calum, we need to see this.

              Look at her, look!

              Watch yourself.

              - What have you done? - I'm telling you, I tripped.

              You didn't trip. Turn round.

              What happened to you?

              - I fell. - You did not fall.

              This'll sting.

              Easy, Chantelle.

              - You haven't asked about our mum yet. - I don't need to ask about her.

              If you're good for wee Calum, you can stay.

              - No, I'll pay my way. - Do you not listen?

              If you're good for wee Calum, you can stay.

              And I'll not be playing social workers. I won't be taken for a ride.

              We share the cooking and the housework.

              There'll be no swearing. It's bad for Calum.

              And no smoking. That's bad for Calum.

              No farting. Bad for Calum.

              Turn round.

              They won't take you back at school?

              - That's one way of putting it. - How about the Children's Panel?

              I'm not up for review till Mam gets out.

              Why don't you come to my call centre class? Doesn't cost nothing.

              They might take you on when you're   .

              Pinball might be a priest, eh?

              Liam, look at the state of you.

              Look at yourself.

              You gonna get yourself sorted out?

              Liam?

              Look at me.

              You gonna sort yourself out?

              - Aye. - Promise me.

              Here, here.

              Calum, my man!

              Who's that? That daft Pinball?

              Where did you get that?

              I've been looking for one with a child seat.

              No chance. Chantelle will kill us, man.

              No, she won't. How's she gonna find out? Calum, you coming in? Course you are.

              Come with Pinball.

              I mean it, none of your crap. If she finds out, she'll go mad.

              Go on.

              - Ready, Calum? - Are you all right, wee man?

              - Look, no hands! - Fuck off!

              You prick! Fucking get hold of it!

              You fucking idiot!

              - We've got a wee man in the back! - Calm down!

              - Are you all right? - Sorry, Cal.

              - Fucking idiot! - Sorry.

              What are you fucking turning it up for?

              You like this, Calum? Fucking brilliant, man!

              Here. Stop here.

              Hold on, Calum. I'll be back in a minute.

              - Where are you going? - To look at this place.

              - Where are you going? - Six grand. It's all right, man.

              What are you doing?

              Look at it. I'm going to look at this.

              Look at that, man. Two bedrooms, telly, microwave.

              You'd get six around that table, no bother.

              Look at that view, man.

              Aye, man. This is the stuff.

              Imagine here at night with a clear sky.

              Wee fishing rod, couple of cans, couple of hens.

              - Suzanne to keep you company! - No cunt telling you what to do.

              A year's supply of pizzas, eh? Lovely.

              Mam would love this after being cooped up in that fucking cell.

              Paradise, man.

              All right, Mam? It's your handsome wee boy sending you a wee tape to cheer you up.

              I'm sitting here with a few boys.

              Pinball, Night-Time, Side-Kick - joint employees of the month!

              - Fastest pizza slingers in the west. - That's official, by the way!

              Me and Pinball were out in the country today. See this wee place we found.

              It's right by the water. Brilliant for a picnic, Mam.

              Gonna take you there as soon as you get out. Just ten more weeks and we're together.

              - What was it like, Pinball? - You'd love it, Jean.

              As soon as you're out, I'll take you there.

              The wee man's doing brilliant. Cal's a laugh, isn't he?

              All right, boys? See you later. I need to go on me way.

              I'm making a cassette for my mum. Say hello.

              - No bother. - Go on, Suzy.

              Hello. My name's Suzanne.

              I hope to meet you soon and good luck.

              - See you later. - Cheers, Suzanne.

              See you.

              What's all the fuss about? What are you all doing?

              - Where're you going? - Is she there?

              - Liam? Pinball? - There she is.

              - Come on! - Is she not stunning?

              - You got the right lenses on them glasses? - Stunning, man.

              Pinball, that's the best sight you could ever imagine.

              - I'll be having that sight soon. - You wish!

              - She'll be mine! - Side-Kick, say something.

              Hope your porridge isn't too lumpy, Jean.

              I'm serious!

              - His face! - What are you all laughing at?

              It's not a bad day, eh?

              - Oh, a lass is getting changed. - Let me see.

              She's away, she's away. Sorry. She's away.

              - What did you see? - Nothing.

              - See her tits? - No.

              - There's your dad and your grandpa. - He's not my fucking dad!

              - Stan. Sorry, mate. He could be your dad. - Fucking shut up!

              Fucking arsehole.

              Who's that?

              - That's Slobodan. - Who?

              - Slobodan McTavish. - Who's that?

              Scullion, you fucking dickhead.

              Hold these. I'm gonna wind this cunt up.

              - Your grandpa? - How the fuck would he have a phone?

              Give me them.

               Stan speaking. What can I do for you?

              Can I interest you in some double glazing?

               - Not today, son. - What about a fitted kitchen, then?

               No, pal. I don't want fuck-all, you know?

              How about a top of the range dildo? You sound like a cock jockey.

               Fuck you, you little... cuntl

              - He's fucking raging. - Look at his face.

              - Think he knew it was me? - No.

              He's passing Scullion some dough.

              That means they're gonna get a delivery.

              Fuck's sake!

              Fucking dancer, wee man! This is our score.

              I know where they stash the drugs. We could get it no bother.

              - What are you talking about? - The gear. I know where it is.

              - You wanna break into Stan's house? - Aye. Get the gear.

              You're nuts. Don't be stupid!

              What's wrong with you? You know how to cut it.

              - I may be daft, but I'm not dumb. - Look, I could get a caravan for my ma.

              - I'm not even thinking about this. - We're getting nowhere with fucking fags!

              - I'm happy with fags. - Look at this place!

              - I know. - Think of the caravan.

              The fucking money we're gonna get.

              Look, mate, this is big fucking bucks.

              The caravan plus plenty left. We'll not get near it with the money we have.

              -   -  ? - Aye! Fucking   -  !

              I should think so!

              - So where do they stash it? - Under a board.

              - In the house? - No, with the dogs.

              Dogs? I'm definitely not doing it now.

              The fucking dogs are there.

              You're a fucking shitbag. Hurry up! Fucking move!

              Hairy Balls. Here, boy.

              - Liam, they'll rip you apart. - Fucking sh! Come here.

              Here, boy. That's right. Come here. No Balls. Here, girl.

              Come here, boy. Come here. Give us the fucking sweeties.

              That's No Balls. That's the lassie.

              - Feed them. - I'm not feeding them.

              They're not going to touch you.

              Here.

              Hairy Balls, come here.

              - Hairy Balls, come here. - Keep them fuckers there.

              Take it, here.

              Come on, come on.

              Come on. Found it.

              Thank fucking heaven for that!

              What are you doing? Liam? No. Come on.

              Liam? I'm serious. Come on.

              Liam? Liam, come here.

              Come on. What're you doing?

              - What did you tell the police? - I just left them a wee message.

              - It must have been a good one. - Aye!

              - They'll take the dogs out. - The coppers won't go near them.

              That's what the bobbies will be for.

              Fucking idiot.

              They're taking this fucking seriously. That's the CID.

              The police are going nuts because they can't find it.

              He's fucking going nuts because he thinks they've taken his smack. Fucking dancer!

              Fucking hell, Liam!

              Hey, Gramps, is your balls still sore? Have a look at mine, you cunt!

              - They've been in his mouth! - Give us a kiss!

              You want a shot?

              No. Can't risk losing any of this stuff.

              How much do you reckon we've got here?

              A good bag. It's good stuff and we can sell it.

              - Two grand. - We're gonna get that caravan.

              - Eh, man? - Aye. Don't worry about that.

              I used to watch my dad do this sometimes. He was good at it.

              My teacher used to wonder how I was so good at fucking maths and fuck-all else.

              I wish I could tell her how.

              - Sure it's safe in here? - Aye. It's only me and my big brother.

              No cunt else comes in here. Anyhow, he's not into this.

              You'll need this, mate. Definitely.

              No, I'm not wanting it. I'll use my head.

              It's not fags. These cunts will have a go. I'll be carrying.

              I said I'm not wanting it.

              And another thing, no using.

              I'm fucking serious.

              We're not junkies, right? And all of this goes to the caravan.

              - Yeah. Don't worry. - Shake on it.

              - Kiss on it. - I'm fucking serious, man.

              So am I.

              Shake on it.

              Sweaty Betty.

              Do you want to buy any gear?

              No. Last time I was in here, I got ripped off.

              - Do you want to see the bags? - No.

              In here, lads, eh?

              What about the cameras?

               All right, Mam. It's me.

               Just put the wee man in his cot there.

               Chantelle's away to night class,  so I'm landed with him.

              Should see how big he's getting, Mam.

              Sometimes he looks right at you,

              right into your eyes...

              as if you're the only person he's ever met.

               Anyway, the big news is we're selling fags  by the barrowload.

              We're raking it in, Mam. So I might have a wee surprise for you when you get out.

               Just    days, Mam.

               The day before my birthday.

              Anyway, here's one of your wee favourites. I'll see you soon. Maybe with the wee man.

               Show him off.

              That's      to be payable by the   th of November.

              - You need to get Mrs Maguire to sign here. - All right.

              Here's the key. When will she be back?

              She won't be back for a couple of months. She's on a course down south.

              What's her contact number?

              She doesn't like to be disturbed. It's a very intensive course.

              What's her employment, if you don't mind me asking?

              She's part of the prison service.

              See you later. Bye.

              - Liam, you're a pure brass neck. - How?

              - How can you pay for it? - Do I ask about your financial affairs?

              - Did you get it? - Black and white.

              - How are you going to get that money? - I'm a businessman.

              - Doing what? - I just got a deal.

              We're going to get vanloads of fags.

              - Fags will get that? - It's got us this far.

              He's been selling stuff since he was seven.

              Calum, wait. Wait for me.

              Don't drop him.

              You get the gate.

              There you go.

              - Run, run, run. - Wait till I get the door, mate.

              Get it open.

              I'll get keys cut for all of you, even Night-Time.

              - Night-Time? - Man, the picnics we're gonna have here.

              Picnics and conversations.

              Go and settle over there. We'll get a picture took.

              - Hands off my sister. - Sorry, Chantelle.

              Hey, keep your hands to yourself. Get in a bit closer. Cheese.

              I'm going out with your sister.

              Run. Catch up.

              - You might fall on these stones, Calum. - Walk slowly.

              Shall I hold your hand?

              Come on, look. Throw stones.

              That was a nice one. That's the record. That was about       I got there.

              - How are we gonna get     ? - We'll get it.

              Hey, you.

              - By November? - Aye.

              - I don't think so, Liam. - Trust me.

              He's got Chantelle's eyes.

              She was gorgeous at that age.

              She was a really good baby.

              - I tell him about you all the time. - No, you don't.

              I do. I've put your photo above his cot so he'll know you when you get out.

              She's lovely.

              - He's beautiful. - He looks like you.

              He does not.

              Chantelle's dying to hear from you, Mam. You should write her a wee note.

              Liam, she can't stand me.

              Anyway, I got a wee surprise for you. A big surprise.

              - What is it? - Take it.

              - Let me see. - No. Next time.

              Show me, Liam. Let me see it. What is it?

              - What is this? - It's a caravan.

              - I know, but... - It's our caravan.

              Not the council's, not the bank's. It's ours, Mam. I've bought it.

              - It must have cost a fortune. - I'm getting a fortune.

              - How much? - Don't worry.

              I've paid a deposit and a first instalment.

              It looks lovely.

              Nobody to annoy us, no junkies, no police. Just me and you.

              And Chantelle and Calum, if they want. There's room.

              All you need to do is sign for it, Mam.

              It's in your name, Mam. It's yours.

              Sign here. It's ours.

              - Have you really thought about this? - Aye.

              - Are you sure? - Mam, I'm positive. Just gonna sign?

              For goodness' sake, sign.

              And another two. How many's that?

              - How many is that? - That's   .

              - Fucking hell. They're making a fortune. - Definitely.

              If we cut them off that wee short cut,

              we could do more business in an afternoon than we do in a week.

              Do you know who stays there? Big Jay fucking Ellis, a serious coconut.

              We'll be careful. Keep a look out, then do business.

              Do you want throwing out the window, stabbed, a pitbull set on you?

              - Don't be daft. - Just to make contacts.

              Cut them off, a day of business, then we'll lay low somewhere.

              Where? One of your daft planets? They'll find us there.

              - I could lose the fucking caravan, man! - Fuck your caravan.

              You know what? Fuck you. I'll do it myself. Fucking shitebag.

              - Don't come back to me greeting. - Fucking shitebag.

              You'll never do it. Fucking nutcase.

              - Morning. - Where you off to?

              - I'll get a bit of stuff. - I've got a bit of gear.

              - Any good? - Brilliant. Best stuff.

              - Sure? - Better than that cunt Ellis's anyway.

              Give us a toke.

              All right, boys? You looking for any gear?

              What you got?

              Good idea.

              Give me my fucking gear!

              Fuck! Liam! Liam! Fucking...

              Liam!

              Fucking...

              Hard man, eh? Fucking prick!

              - Give us my fucking gear! - Fuck off!

              - It's all right, man. - It's all right?

              - Give me my fucking gear! - What the fuck...?!

              Arsehole!

              I'm telling you, you fucking stay down this time!

              I'm fucking gonna kill you, now fucking stay down!

              - Hurry up! - Fucking dickhead!

              Arsehole!

              Fucking done my nose. I think my nose is broke.

              It's all right. Don't fucking worry about it.

              - Whoa! Give me my fucking gear! - He's a fucking nutter!

              Give us my gear or you'll have a fucking war!

              - I'm gonna kill this bastard! - Give me my gear!

              - Give him his stuff. - Fuck off!

              Give us the fucking gear!

              - You fuck off! - Give it him.

              I'll fucking have him! I'll fucking have him!

              You want that caravan, don't you? Fucking nuts, mate.

              - How many times have I done this? - Done what?

              This.

              Hey ho, hey ho, orphan weans have to go.

              Do you remember? At the children's home?

              "Where's your mammy?"

              Remember you ran out and fought three big boys?

              They all thought you were brave.

              I didn't.

              I was screaming through the window.

              I heard your arm snap.

              When they let you go, you still laughed in their face.

              You didn't fight them because you were brave.

              You fought them because you just didn't care what happened to you.

              That's what broke my heart.

              Just another kicking for you.

              How can you really care about us if you don't care for yourself?

              Turn round.

              Turn round!

              What am I supposed to tell the wean in the morning?

              You tripped?

              Some junkies stole your fags and nearly killed you?

              All wee Calum's got in the whole world is me and you.

              Nobody else.

              What happened to us isn't going to happen to him.

              Never.

              Over my dead body, and I swear it.

              I want peace in this house.

              - All right, Suzanne? - You fucking prick. My arse!

              She sent me a text. She wants a date with me.

              - Don't talk shite. - She fucking does, man. She wants me.

              Get your fucking arse in there!

              You two be on your best fucking behaviour. We don't even want you to be here.

              Right. The bar's clear.

              - Fucking stand there. - Don't fucking break anything.

              Just fucking stand in peace, wee man.

              Just fucking shut your mouth, son.

              Stop fucking ogling them by the pool. Fucking get your arse in line!

              How are you, gentlemen?

              - I told you, Al Capone. - What did you say?

              - Say that again, you wee fanny. - Al Capone.

              Cheeky wee cunt. Give him a cold shower.

              Hold on! Hold on, man! He's nothing to do with me.

              I'm the one you want. I organised everything.

              - Sit down. - What you going to do to him?

              Fuck him. Sit down.

              Show me your arms.

              Do it.

              Aye, he's clean.

              Good. How old are you?

              - Fifteen. - Who supplied you?

              You think we'll shop you?

              I don't do that. Ever. I don't need to.

              I do need to know who supplied you.

              - Do you know why I'm asking you? - In case somebody else muscles in.

              - Is that the case? - I stole it from Stan.

              - Stan Irvine? - Aye. He's going out with my ma.

              I knew he stashed it with the dogs, so I stole it, and my granddad's teeth.

              Could be true. He's blaming a bent cop.

              It is true. I set him up. I only phoned the police to cover me.

              Stan's not the sharpest.

              So you thought we'd tell him? You'd take a tanking?

              He doesn't bother me, but he might take it out on my mam.

              You took some chance, wee man.

              - Stay away from our fucking shops. - Especially big Jay Ellis's.

              You may be a breath of fresh air, kid,

              but there's a lot of fucking wasters out there.

              Do you know what initiative is?

              Laughing at the boss's jokes?

              We might just get on.

              - Fucking go! - Give me my fucking trainers!

              Next time we see you, it'll be two broken legs and you won't need trainers!

              Piss you!

              - I'm fucking freezing! - You couldn't keep it shut.

              - Give me your jacket. - Fuck off. You'll get it wringing.

              - Look at the state of you! - Fuck you!

              There's your fucking pal.

              I'm gonna fucking get him back.

              It looks like it too, you fucking idiot!

              Oh, wait.

              If we prove we can do this - that's a big fucking if -

              he's going to get us a regular supply.

              The more we sell, the bigger our cut - like a business.

              They want reliable dealers. No fucking junkies that are using and not selling.

              - We're dealing now. - What happens when it runs out?

              Where do we get the gear? How do we know it's not shite?

              - The guy's cool. - He's a cunt.

              You saw the club. He's a fucking different class.

              - He'll do you in, just like that. - Who cares?

              All we need is a couple of months, no fucking about, we're rolling in it.

              What happens to me and you?

              We'll do it together. We're a fucking partnership.

              I don't trust him.

              - We can learn from him. - Learn to arse lick?

              Make up your mind or I'll find somebody else!

              Do you want to end up like your old man?

              That's fucking nice, isn't it?

              Or do you want to do something?

              - Here, have a chip. - Fuck off, man. He's still a cunt.

              - A rich cunt. - So what's next?

              We've got to prove ourself. Sell more than anybody else without getting caught.

              We've got to move fast. That's the secret.

              - I can get a fucking motor. - No. Too flash, man.

              - I've got it. I've fucking got it. - What?

              Tell me.

              - Fucking tell me. - Mopeds.

              I'll be back in two minutes.

              You'd better be. I've got another delivery.

              You better hurry up, all right?

              A tenner. Cheers. It's brilliant stuff.

              You got a phone number so I can contact you? Aye.

              Where is he, man?

              - Hurry up, man! - Two minutes. Chill out.

              For fuck's sake, man.

              A bit of speed. Come on!

              Second left, then first right.

              - I've no time for a detour. - I need to take this.

              - I'm not fucking doing it. - I mean it.

              Night-Time? This is fucking ridiculous, by the way.

              This cunt's taking his time. I've only delivered one pizza.

              He's here. I need to go.

              - Fucking move! For fuck's sake, man! - I told you two minutes.

              Aye, you've had fucking five.

              Fucking hurry up, man! Move!

              - For fuck's sake! Fucking arsehole. - Calm down, man.

              It's not my fault. This is fucking bad for business.

              I've got pizzas here fucking freezing!

              - For fuck's sake! - If you drove quicker we'd get somewhere.

              Fuck, fuck!

              - Where have you been? - Sorry for any inconvenience.

              An hour and a half ago I fucking phoned for that!

              - I had transport difficulties. - For a fucking pizza.

              - You could have got one from Italy. - I got held up.

              Are you fucking Dick Turpin?

              - Sorry, mate. - Hope it's the right fucking pizza.

              It's fucking freezing and all. You know what you can do with it? Stick it up your arse.

              Fuck off out of my sight!

              - Is this Funghi or Hawai? - Funghi.

              I can't read your writing.

              - Where have you been? - Calm down.

              Calm down? There are    orders here!

              - He takes ages, man. - We took a wee detour.

              - Where? Western Europe? - We've got a reputation.

              The slickest, the fastest and all destroyed in one night.

              How much tips you make a night?

              - It's nothing to do with you. - How much you make in tips?

              Five, six quid. All depends.

              That's fucking pish.

              Do you want your money or not? Come here.

              Plenty more where that came from.

              - Is that for me? - And him.

              We can compromise if it works like this.

              - He's happy now. - He's fucking shut up now.

              - You cut that gear yet? - No. I'll do it later.

              - No? Lazy arse! Go get the gear cut. - I've been here before fucking you.

              - Exactly! Go get the fucking gear cut. - I'll cut it later.

              Better be cut tonight, by the way.

              Get out.

              Get out. I'm shaving, man.

              Oh, look, my wee brother's all grown up.

              He's turning into a man!

              - What do I have to do for some privacy? - What are you shaving?

              Fucking look at that. It's not funny!

              - You've missed a bit. - Get out, man!

              - Want me to do it for you? - Get out.

              - Do you want me to help? - Get out!

              - Did you ask what they wanted? - He just says be here for half nine.

              - Are you worried? - No.

              But did they sound fucking nervous or angry?

              What have they got to be angry about? We're doing good business, raking it in.

              Just be cool.

              They're on time anyway. Just play it cool, right? Play it cool.

              - Right, lads? - Jack. Hi, Tony.

              - How're you doing? How's Ginger? - All right.

              - Cheers, lads. - Where d'you think you're going?

              What're you fucking doing?!

              - See you later. - Liam! Fuck!

              Tony, what's going on? Fuck's sake, man! Liam!

              Come on. Fuck!

              Liam! Fucking hell!

              Fuck!

              - You want to dump that wee prick. - That's my best pal you're talking about.

              - If you want to go anywhere, drop him. - He's right, Liam. Listen to Tony.

              - Do you know this man? - Aye. He's Scully.

              Scullion. You should remember his face, OK?

              Aye.

              Hello, Maureen? Aye, it's Tony.

              We'll be there in a minute. Just wait at the back door, OK?

              See that door?

              Maureen's a barmaid. She'll let you in. She'll have something for you.

              Scullion's in there with his team.

              You wait till he goes for a slash.

              You follow him into the bog. We'll make sure nobody gets in.

              He won't expect nothing from you. OK?

              - OK, what? - You're gonna do him in.

              - Kill him? - Aye.

              You're doing him, wee man.

              You're in with the big boys now, son. In you go.

              You OK?

              OK, Liam. If you'd like to go through here.

              OK, listen. The bar's through here.

              Your guy's out there. He's sitting at the bar.

              The toilet is through there. Have you got that?

              I've got something for you.

              I'll be through at the bar and I'll let you know when he's coming through.

              Liam? Liam?

              He's gone now.

              Liam! Put it down!

              - It's all right, son. - It's all right. Put it down.

              - It's all right, wee man. - Nearly had my fucking knackers off!

              You've got balls. You're one of the team, son. You're all right, you're all right.

              Fucking bastards!

              I thought you were after my fucking tadger!

              Liam, you see that? You can fucking keep that, pal.

              - You done fucking brilliant! - Well done, son. Well done.

              Get this boy a fucking drink.

              Chantelle, what did you bring? Did you bring sarnies?

              - What do you normally take to a picnic? - Juice?

              - Aye. You're not getting any. - I'm dying of thirst here.

              - That's for the picnic. - What's she like?

              You're not getting any till the picnic.

              All right, mate.

              What's happened?

              Liam?

              - Liam, what's happened? - Liam?

              Liam. I want to go over to the caravan.

              What happened, Liam?

              Liam?

              Don't go in there. Uncle Liam! Don't!

              Liam! Liam!

              Who would have done this to you?

              Liam.

              You stand there with Suzanne. Oh, Cal.

               You've upset the wean. Come out.

                - I'll fucking kill him! - Liam.

                Open the fucking door, Stan! You're fucking dead, d'you hear?

                - Open the fucking door! - Stan's not in here!

                - Get him out here, you old bastard! - Shut up, you stupid wee cunt!

                - Get him out here! - He's not fucking here!

                Hey, you, fuck off, go on. Go back to your wee hovel.

                You tell him when I get hold of him he's fucking dead!

                - Fucking... - What? Put your teeth in, you fucker.

                You try that! You fucking try that, boy, and I'll come down there!

                Fuck off! You fucking dare! You dare!

                See you, you cunt!

                You stupid wee fucking boy!

                See you, you monkey wee cunt! You wait till I get hold of you!

                You stupid wee fucking arsehole!

                You just wait till I get hold of you! You skinny wee cunt you!

                A fucking mess you've made here!

                No, I'm all right, Mum. We're just gonna stay in with the wean for the night.

                We've had a wee bit of bother today.

                Och, nothing, I'll tell you in the morning.

                Mum, it's all right. Don't panic. I'll tell you tomorrow.

                I'm fine, Mum, aye.

                I don't need my py jamas. I'll get some of Chantelle's, all right?

                I've nothing clean. You can get some of Liam's.

                Mum, the doors are already locked!

                Bye, Mum.

                - She's a pure wee bletherer. - Sounds all right.

                She's a pure nightmare.

                They'd better stop that noise out there. They'll wake the wean up.

                Who is it, Liam?

                - Douglas? - Who?

                - Fuck me. - Who's Douglas?

                - Nobody. Stay in here. - You'd better not be causing trouble.

                Who is it?

                Douglas's car, wee man. Who's got it? Pinball's got it.

                - I told you I'd get revenge. - What the fuck are you about?!

                - Fucking magic! - Are you fucking stupid?

                Fuck off, you fucking brown-nose!

                You know what you've fucking done? We're fucking dead if you don't take this back!

                - We? Fucking you and me are no more. - You fucking idiot! Do you know who he is?

                - You daft fucking boy. - Fuck off. I'm out of here.

                Hold on, hold on. Fucking hold on.

                Get out of my road, I'm gone!

                Fuck!

                You fucking knob. You'd give me a cold shower, eh?

                Let's go, then, come on!

                All right, kid?

                Mr Douglas.

                - Can I get you a coffee? - Espresso, thanks.

                - Sir? - Same as him, please.

                I swear we'll pay every penny back. Just get...

                Never mind that.

                I've just bought your pizza place. Put it in Tony's name.

                - You've bought Franco's? - Aye.

                I want you to buy three new bikes, sort out some good boys, run the show. OK?

                - When does your ma get out? - Three weeks.

                - What are you going to do about it? - Fuck knows.

                If she stays with Stan, she may as well get a season ticket for where she is.

                - I'm trying to get another caravan. - Forget it.

                I rent out flats. One's come free.

                It's modest. Nice views over the river.

                Decent neighbours.

                You can take your ma there.

                And if it works out - and I think it will, Liam -

                you can buy it over a period of time.

                Why are you doing this?

                You work for me, I take care of you. As easy as that.

                You can have these as soon as you take care of that wee prick Pinball.

                He didn't know what he was doing.

                He's had a hard time. His dad was a junkie. I'm all he's got.

                I'll sort it out, I swear. He'll apologise to you and I'll pay you back.

                Hey, if you can't deal with this, you get out now.

                He's like a brother to me.

                Listen, an opportunity like this for someone like you only comes once.

                Excuse me. Are there any junkies' flats up here?

                - The end one. - Cheers.

                - Any of you seen Pinball? - No.

                If you know where he is, tell me where he is.

                - I've not seen him. - Haven't seen him.

                Hey, wanna sign my stookie?

                - All of you get out. Get out. - No. Stay here, lads. Don't move.

                - Get fucking out. - Don't move.

                Get out, kid! Get fucking out, all of you!

                Get out! I'm not in the fucking mood, mate!

                Just get out.

                In case somebody steals it, for goodness' sake.

                I need to get my jacket too.

                - See you later, Chris. - See you later, pal. See you, Pinball.

                Oh, brown nose. Don't move, don't move. There's something on your nose, mate.

                It's a bit of shite.

                - Shut the fuck up. We need to talk. - Here to do me in, are you?

                Well, do me in. Fucking do me in. Go.

                - Calm down. We need to talk. - One arm behind my back.

                - Muhammad Al Pinball, eh? - Fuck off.

                - Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee. - We're in trouble, man!

                - Put your hands up! Put them fucking up! - Pinball, listen...

                - Aye, like that! - Go on, put your hands up.

                - Will you fucking listen? - What have you got here? Any drugs?

                - What's this? - Put it down.

                A blade. What are you going to do with that? You gonna go like that?

                - And that! And that! - Fuck off!

                Put it down.

                So you were here to do me in? Here - take it.

                Are you fucking man or mouse? Fucking take it!

                I'll help you. Ready?

                The caravan. That's right. Fucking Pinball burnt it.

                It wasn't Stan, it was me.

                - Why...? - Don't fucking move.

                I knocked a motor, can of petrol. Boom! Up she went.

                Fucking shame, so it was. Don't fucking move.

                You fucking hurt me. I'd have done anything for you.

                Fucking anything. But you fucked me about.

                You don't believe me? Fucking get back!

                - You want the chance now? Fucking do it. - Fucking bastard.

                I'll fucking do it, then, eh? 'Cause you fucking put me through pain.

                - A bit of this, eh? - What the fuck are you doing?

                And another one! Do you see what you've done?

                What the fuck you doing, man? Give me the knife. Give me the knife.

                Leave it.

                - You came to do me in. - Fucking clown. What did you do that for?

                You came to do me in.

                You were gonna do it, weren't you?

                Ambulance, please.

                    Mitchell Street. Hurry up, please.

                Fuck, you stupid bastard.

                Let me see your face, you stupid...

                - You were gonna do it. - I wasn't gonna do anything.

                Stupid bastard.

                Tony.

                Aye, it's me. It's been done.

                Aye.

                That woman's been on about three times for you.

                He gets at us 'cause you're not in the shop.

                - Those are addresses. - It's just like an address book.

                Two tenner bags, mate.

                - There you go, mate. - Cheers.

                And here's your pizza.

                No, you don't...!

                - Excellent, by the way. Thanks a lot. - Hi, Angela.

                - What do you think you're doing? - Selling pizzas.

                - Pizzas? Aye, right. - Honest.

                - You're selling drugs. I've just seen you. - It's pizzas.

                - She's got a wee boy. - I'm in a hurry.

                She's got a wee boy. Do you know what you're doing to her?

                You're scum and I'll be doing something about it!

                I've got some news.

                - I came first in my test. - You did?

                - Aye. - Brilliant!

                - I've got myself a job in a call centre. - Great. I'm proud of you.

                It's only part time. Suzanne's mum's gonna help me with Calum. I'm dead chuffed.

                See that guy we sell the fags for? He rents out flats as well.

                He's pleased with the way I'm running the pizza shop.

                He's offered me a flat for when Mam comes out.

                Right. That's great. It's what you've always wanted.

                It's got everything - new washing machine, central heating.

                Chantelle, there's plenty of room for you and Calum as well.

                Why don't you just give her one more chance?

                Liam, she didn't want me. She didn't want you.

                - She was only a wee lassie then. - And nothing's changed!

                - Because you're not giving her a chance. - How many chances has a wean got to give?

                Your problem is you're far too hard on her.

                - She's desperate to see Calum. - You're lying!

                Look, I got a set of keys cut for you. These are yours.

                Come on.

                - Liam, I don't know. - What's holding you back?

                I'm scared.

                I know you think it's for the best...

                It is for the best. A new start for us.

                You and Calum away from here and my mam out of jail.

                I don't know.

                Chantelle.

                Chantelle, open the door.

                I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just thinking of you and Calum.

                - Come on, open the door. - No. I'm all right.

                - Chantelle, please open the door. - No.

                I'll give you a cuddle.

                - So what time's she due out? - Half ten.

                Hello?

                All right, Tony. How are you doing? Aye. Did you see Stan for us?

                Are you sure this cunt's not gonna turn up?

                Cheers, Tony. I appreciate it. All right, mate. Ta. See you.

                It's been a long time since I've been this side of town.

                - You'd better get used to it. - Where are we going?

                It's a surprise. You'll find out when we get there.

                - Do you know where we're going? - Don't ask me.

                - My lips are sealed. - Liam, where are we going?

                It's a surprise.

                Who lives up here?

                Just opposite this set of stairs.

                Here.

                Here we are.

                - You're kidding me on? - No. Go on. Open it.

                Have a look.

                I still think you're kidding me on.

                I'll show you the kitchen.

                Built-in oven with microwave.

                - Dishwasher. - Dishwasher.

                Very nice. Very classy.

                Balcony.

                - Imagine this in the summer, Mum. - It's beautiful, isn't it?

                Let's see the bedroom.

                Wow.

                Your dressing table. Your ensuite bathroom just through there.

                A bathroom in my bedroom. And a shower.

                - Like it? - I don't know what to say.

                Don't need to say anything.

                Does Stan know about this?

                Give a big warm welcome back for wee Jean.

                We've all missed her very much. Jean, this is a song from me.

                Robbie Williams - "Let Me Entertain You".

                Stick 'em in the kitchen. Through there.

                - Any sign of Stan? - I've not seen him.

                - Keep an eye out for him. - I will. Aye.

                We're on the third floor.

                - You look nice. - I know. Cheers for coming.

                - How are you, young man? - Watch your fingers.

                - Looking smart. - Where have we to go?

                In here? Oh, look, there's Suzanne.

                Chantelle. You came. Thanks, hen. It's good to see you.

                - How are you? - I'm all right.

                Hiya. Look at your lovely suit.

                Come and see your granny, Cal?

                We don't call him Cal. His name's Calum.

                - What do you mean? - His name's Calum.

                Do you want a wee drink?

                "You Stole The Sun From My Heart." Come on, I want to see you all dancing.

                Hiya.

                - How are you? - I'm all right.

                - Nice to see you. - How have you been?

                I've been all right.

                I'm going to see Liam.

                - Is he asleep? - Aye. That's him asleep now.

                No point in disturbing him. Just stay the night.

                It's a shame to wake him. We'll stay.

                - Morning. - Morning.

                - What are you doing up so early? - You're just up late.

                - Where's Calum? - Still in bed.

                All the excitement last night tired him out.

                My head's fucking pounding. Stick the kettle on.

                Is Mum up yet?

                What's wrong with you?

                She's gone.

                A wee walk will do her good. I think she had one too many last night.

                No, Liam. She's gone.

                Gone where she normally goes. The same "usual" as always.

                Liam!

                Liam, calm down.

                This is your fucking doing. What did you say?

                - I never said nothing! - Get out of my fucking way.

                - Liam, calm down! - Get out of my way.

                Where's my fucking other shoe?

                Liam, let her go. She'll drive you mad. Let her go, for Christ's sake!

                Liam, listen. It's not that she doesn't care, she can't care!

                She's a fucking crazy lost wee soul and she's gonna ruin you too!

                I saw you talking to her last night. What were you saying?

                - If you drove her back to Stan, I'll... - Drove her back to Stan?

                If it's not Stan, it'll be somebody else and somebody else!

                - I've never seen her so happy. - Stop lying to yourself.

                Where's my fucking trainer?!

                - Give me my shoe. - Liam, calm down.

                - Give me my fucking shoe. - Please, Liam. It's me that cares for you.

                So that's your game? Worming your way in here.

                - We need you. - Your lies drive my ma away!

                - I'm not like that! - You never gave her a fucking chance!

                I gave her too many chances.

                "We don't call him that." Fucking rubbing her face in it!

                - Listen to you! - What did you say?

                I never said nothing.

                - Just give me the fucking trainer. - No. No!

                - Before I do something I'll regret. - Go on.

                - Don't make me do it. - Just like Granddad, like our fathers!

                Like Stan! Like all the other losers!

                Like our mam! Be one of them because that's what you are!

                - Fucking shut up. - Liam! Liam, don't!

                You fucking poisoned wee cow, Chantelle!

                I fucking swear to God! I fucking swear! Look at me.

                By the time I get back, you better be out of here. Do you hear me?!

                Are you on, mate? Gilmore Street. Greenock Hill.

                - Where's my ma? - What do you fucking want? Your ma?

                - Big man here. The boy's come to see you. - What are you doing here?

                - You come for another hit, is that it? - No, that's not it.

                - Mum, let's go. - I can't.

                Never mind what he, Chantelle or anybody says.

                - This is so sad. - It's just me and you, Mam.

                - Liam, you don't understand. - Come on.

                - I can't! - For fuck's sake.

                - Stan, don't. - Don't be scared of him. He can't hurt us.

                Come on. Where's your bag?

                - Oh, fucking hell... - Liam, come here!

                - You're wasting your time, son. - Stan, shut up.

                - You're winding him up. - Telling me to shut up? Come storming in.

                - Come on, Mum. - I can't, Liam.

                - I've got a flat. It's a fresh start. - I can't.

                Chantelle's gone. It's just me and you.

                You think your mother wants to move in with you? You make her fucking stomach turn.

                Liam, just go and I'll come and see you later.

                - Come on, Mum. - I can't. You don't understand.

                Say bye-bye to your mother.

                - Fucking sit down! - Don't talk to her like that!

                You can send one of your fucking tapes. "Mummy, I love you."

                Tell him about the caravan. What did you say about it?

                "In the fucking middle of nowhere. Great!"

                - It wasn't like that. - It was. Tell him what you fucking mean.

                - Tell him the fucking truth. - That is the truth.

                And your silly wee fucking house, eh?

                Think you're going up in the world in fucking Gourock?

                - Stan, shut up. - I won't shut up.

                I love you. He doesn't love you. Can't you see that? I need you, Mam.

                "I love you." I love your ma and she loves me.

                Get that through your fucking thick head. Now, leave.

                - Stop it. - Do as you're told. Leave.

                Fucking leave, son. Fucking little bastard.

                Liam! What are you doing?

                - Liam! - Bastard!

                What have you done? Stop it!

                Oh, no! What have you done?

                - Liam! - Fucking look at me!

                Oh, my God!

                Go away! Stop that!

                - I'll kill the cunt. - What have you done?

                Oh, my God!

                Get a fucking ambulance.

                The fucking bastard stabbed me. He fucking stabbed me!

                - Hello?  - Hi, Liam.

                 It's Chantelle. Are you OK?

                 - Where are you? - I don't know.

                 Is it true?

                 Everybody's looking for you.  The police have been round.

                 Oh, Liam. What a waste.

                 What a waste.

                 It's your birthday, you're   .  Did you know that?

                 What are we gonna do? Eh?

                Chantelle, my batteries are running down.

                 I love you, Liam.





 
Special help by SergeiK