All language subtitles for minder_s02e11_all_about_scoring_innit

I can be so good for you.

Love you like you want me to.

I can be so good for you.

Love you like you want me to.

You come back, you bastard!

I'll kill you!

Run, you bastard!

Run!

Fine.

I want to catch you. And when I do...

Now you've pulled a stroke for England,
come and pull a few for me.

God, dear old Lord.

What have you got in here?

Lead weights?

Very nearly, my son.

Metal weights.

Weightlifters for the use of.

As of today, I am into your leisure
activities, Boone.

What happened? They fall off the back of
a long -distance runner.

Sport for all, that is the message.

Oh, my God. Why can't you buy a proper
paper instead of this kiddie's comic

Bo? You?

Don't make me laugh.

Listen, I bet the last time you went to
a football match, they had shorts down

to their knees and hair parked in the
middle. I don't deny it. And if they

French niggers and shaved their heads,
they still wouldn't get me going through

the turnstiles.

There is more to the Greek sporting
ideal, Terry, than standing on the

hurling obscenities and wearing boba
boots.

What are you talking about?

Well, it's more your participatory
sports, isn't it?

Badminton, squash, weightlifting.

Weightlifting?

No, football is dead.

Don't be so bleeding daft.

I am telling you.

Look, even the players don't want to
know. I mean, what is all that about?

Oh, yeah.

Danny Farrow throwing one of his
wobblies.

Headline news.

Because of two Bob Football cretins,
Skive's off a day's work.

A million quid, football cretin offer.

A million quid? Oh, God.

He's a muddied oaf.

He ain't.

One of the chosen is.

I'll tell you what.

If he had put himself about on the pitch
as much as he does with birds, booze

and gambling, he'd be chosen for his
country and all.

Bit of a lad, huh, Danny?

He's too Bob, Terry. They're all too Bob
in my book.

Listen, listen, listen to this.

Soccer playboy misfit Danny Varro caused
more headaches for his manager... Look,

that is typical gutter press. Why don't
you buy a proper paper?

Why don't you? Oi, give it back.

Why? I want it.

But you don't like it.

Yeah, but...

I'm not paying you to read papers in my
time. I'm bunging you for three hours'

graph this morning, not for sitting down
reading football tittle -tattle in the

illiterate's answer to the vino.

You are right, Arthur.

Eh? You're right.

Except we ain't in your time any more,
are we? What?

Look at that.

Twelve. The clock has beaten you,
sunshine.

And I'm struggling with the prior
engagement.

No, no, hang on, hang on. Just a minute.

What is this prior engagement?

Chelsea are at home.

Yeah, the best place for them. I thought
you were a fulham there.

They were there away, weren't they? What
about my sporting goods?

Balls. Terry. Ping pong for the playing
of. Ta -ra.

Oh, thank you.

The highway's quite safe now, madam.
I've seen them on their way.

Hello, Arthur.

You're early. I've only just opened.

Who was it said you can never find one
when you want one?

Who was it said you can never find what?

Copper.

G .H. Chesterton, wasn't it?

Or was it the bard himself, George
Bernard?

You won't catch a copper's round here on
a Saturday afternoon, Arthur.

Huh?

What are you looking for a copper for?

Football hooligans.

Out there.

They seemed scarpered when I gave them
what for.

Why, that's life, isn't it? Chase,
sirrah, sirrah.

If one of them soccer hooligans got your
number on the bottom of his bobber

boot, he'll dot your card for you, old
Bill or no old Bill.

Yeah, it's like the doodlebugs in the
war, isn't it?

What's doodlebugs got to do with it?

Oh.

Oh, dear, it really is like the Blitz.

They didn't do for him at all, did they,
the maniacs?

Anything he's suffering from comes under
the heading of self -inflicted.

He's pissed, isn't he?

My God, he must have started early.

He's a chopping up job from the night
before.

Usually is with him.

Come on, Ron, old son, do yourself a
favour.

Swallow some of that.

Black coffee.

Don't put your back on your feet.

Mind you, if them soccer hooligans had
got to him, he would have gone down as

poetic justice.

Why's that?

Don't you recognise when you are in the
presence of royalty?

This is the Ronnie Rakes, is this?

Ronnie Rakes?

Who the hell's Ronnie Rakes? Ronnie
Rakes, the football writer.

Oh, one of those.

He's got this column, Sunday's Sober
Voice of Sport.

Oh, yeah?

Saturday's his day off, is it?

Is someone from here calling Mini Cab?

Oh, yeah, over here.

Oh, blimey.

Not Mr Rakes again.

I shampooed all my upholstery yesterday.

I might have known I was tempting fate.

Oh, but guess I ain't getting him in the
motor, will you?

Leave it out, Dave.

One of the most important rules in life.

Never helped the press in any way.

And I never have done since I got that
slag in in a local rag.

Here, come on, Ronnie. Here, boy.

Arthur, get Alan for me, will you?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

They don't call him the gutter press for
nothing.

Arthur Daly.

Winchester Club. Can I be of any help?

Oh, yeah, look, it's the top man there,
is he?

Well, it depends which top man you want.

Dave's just popped out for a moment, but
I'm here.

Arthur Daly. No, no, I don't want either
of them, mate. I want the number one

geezer, Ronnie.

Ronnie? Ronnie who?

Yeah, yeah, Ronnie. Look, is he there or
isn't he?

Only, look, he gave me this number to
give him a ring.

Ronnie Rafe.

Ronnie... Oh, oh, him.

Yeah, he was here a minute ago.

More in spirit than in body.

Dave's just pouring in a little bit.

Oh, do us a favour, mate. Will you trot
out, see if you can get hold of him for

us? It wouldn't do any good if I could.

He's non -compass.

Yeah, well, where's that?

Legless. Oh, no, he's not pissed, is he?

Oh, God, do it a favour. Look, I tell
you what, I've got a story for him. It's

big exclusive. Only I'm badly in need of
it already, see?

Yeah, you and even others. You in this
speaking.

Uh, Varo.

Hi, darling.

Uh, yeah, Danny Varo.

Oh,

Daniel. Oh, you should have said my son.

Now, isn't that funny? Ron was just
talking to me about you before he had

great misfortune to suddenly be taken
drunk.

How's it going, my son?

Oh, getting his chariot all right, Dave?
No problems?

Ah, no problems.

Hey, who's on a blower?

Blower? Um, oh, no one, Dave. Wrong
number.

Dreadful, isn't it?

Fought the slimline, was it?

Um, tar, yeah, it was, but no, I won't.
Just remember, I promised to do

something for the geezer. Got to lay my
hands on Terry, smartish. You'll be

lucky. Saturday afternoon, he'll be on
the terraces. You won't novel in before

the final whistle.

Never know your luck, Dave.

Chance your arm time, innit?

You just flash my name up and I'll do
for the board life.

Come in.

Do you like to sit down? No, no, I don't
want to sit down, no. But I think

you're better, Mr... Look, whatever's
happened, why don't we all bomb it

down, will we?

No. No? Well, there's been an accident
and you're wanted at home.

An accident? What's happened? Who is it?

I'm very sorry to say it was your
mother, Mr McCann.

I'm very sorry to say she had the
misfortune to go and get herself run

No, no, no, no. My mum didn't. Yes, she
did.

With the Green Line bus.

Teddams, McCann, 17 Onward Crescent.

Well, yeah, you've got the right geyser
and all that.

Pardon me.

That is your mum.

Pardon me. We had a phone call from your
Uncle Arthur.

He just called the Clem.

Uncle Arthur?

Yes.

I don't wish to intrude into your
personal grief, Mr McCann, but may I

a lift home?

No, no, I ain't going anywhere.

You see, it's a G up, isn't it?

You've got it. It could be faker.

No, you don't understand.

It's a put -up job.

Huh? Excuse me, Mr McCann. Are you
inferring that this phone call was a

Well, something like that, yeah.

You see, the only way a Green Line bus
is going to run my old mum over is if it

makes a detour through Kilburn Cemetery,
because she's been there since 1967.

And that's for Uncle Arthur.

I ain't even got an Uncle Arthur.

Have you any idea who the person
purporting to be Uncle Arthur is?

Er, no, no.

Because I don't find this merchant's
Uncle Arthur's antics funny at all.

I'm hardly laughing my cobblers off
either, am I?

Let me finish speaking.

I have a lot on my plate on Saturday
afternoons.

And I don't want any smart -arsed Uncle
Arthur's poking their two pennants in.

Yeah.

You going somewhere, Mr. McCann?

Well, yeah, something halfway through
the afternoon. I want to take the rest

the match.

And, of course, I think I've spent
enough of your valuable time, you know.

Yes, you and Uncle Arthur.

Yeah, well, so about that. I'll be off
then, eh? You're not going back onto the

terraces, sonny, do you?

You're on your bike.

I'm on my bike, Goldilocks.

Cancel that.

Moody, me? I suppose you thought that
was humorous, did you? No, astute, I

thought. The old grave matter working
overtime. Oh, leave it out. Leave

out, my son. I wanted to see you urgent.

Here you are.

QED, mission accomplished.

My little ruse, I call that very astute.
I call it diabolical, Uncle Arthur. My

only worry was that you wouldn't have
the nows to work it out. You know, break

the code.

I'm going to break your neck one of
these days.

Yeah, of course you are, Terence.

But not today, my friend. Not when you
hear what I've got worked out for you.

Are we off?

Comfy?

Get off.

You're pulling my plunker, aren't you?
Terry, have I ever lied to you?

Often. I swear to you on my bank
manager's wife, the lad himself, Danny

Well, where is he now?

Bombing his way down the M1, isn't he?
Ready to sell his story at the ice

bidder. You know, goals, goals and...
What was that?

You know, sex, soccer and steer odds.

Stair rods? Yeah, compulsive reading,
isn't it? It's gold dust time, Terry.

My Exclusive Story by Soccer Misfit. You
know the kind of bread they dish out

for that sort of rubbish, Terry?

Oh, I know the kind of bread they bung
in, but... But who's bunging you?

Mr Ten Percent, ain't I?

I'm his agent.

Does he know that?

You just do your job, Terry, I'll do
mine.

Now, take him to your drum, I'll meet
you there.

Nobody, but nobody must know where he is
until I've done the deal with Rainsy.

I thought you said he was legless. Yeah,
he was, but by now he'll be hanging in

rags, won't he?

Ready to agree to anything.

Terry, this one's going to be a doddle.
And what I like about it is there's no

complications. It's all above board.

I want him, Robbie.

We don't even know he'll come to London,
Mr Rafferty.

Oh, he'll come.

He'll come down to London, believe me,
Robbie.

He's on his way as of now because he
hasn't got the nurse to keep away.

He's like a kid let loose in a sweet
shop.

Doesn't know when he's had enough.

Also, we know who he'll contact first.

Oh, mark my words, Robbie.

He'll be straight on the blower to that
griefless flag.

And when he does... Has Clifton shown
you?

He's here now, Mr. Rafferty.

Get him, Clifton.

You want me to hurt him, Mr. Rufferty? I
didn't say I wanted you to hurt him,

did I? I said get him.

Which doesn't mean I want him got.

And when you've got him, you bring him
to me.

And when you've brought him to me, then
we'll see about hurting him.

Terry? Terry?

Terry? Terry, where the hell are you?

Arthur? Terry, thank God.

Have you got him?

Well, yeah.

Why didn't you bring him round here? I
told you to.

He didn't want to come.

Why not?

Because he didn't.

Well, where are you?

In a penthouse suite.

What?

What penthouse suite?

All right, Arthur, keep your wig on.
It's not my fault, is it? No, no, listen

me, Terry. He elbowed my place sight
unseen.

He said that's the way it is, par for
the course, right?

He gets his ready, first -class hotel,
and his out -of -pocket exit.

Hold on, hold on.

Come in.

What does he call his out -of -pocket
exits?

Well, it's champagne, mostly.

Champagne? What champagne?

I think it's called Dom Perignon.

Bang it down there, will you?

Listen, who's paying for all this, eh?
Is it Rakesy's paper?

Or are you having to pay for it out of
your temper then?

Look, he gets no champagne.

He gets nothing.

Now, you tell him, Terry, nothing is par
for the course until I have done a deal

with Rakesy. Now, you tell him that,
Terry.

Terry, Terry, are you listening?

Oh, come in.

Stay time with us.

Yeah, yeah, hold on.

Yeah, I'm listening, Arthur. It's all
right, it's all right. I am only

to pay for a basic room.

And that is subject to the conditions of
the arrangement contractually.

I am able to agree when the other
party's concerned.

Oh, will you shut up, eh?

Look, he ain't going to take any notice
of me, is he? You want to tell him that,

come round and tell him yourself.

Well, I can't, can I?

I'm looking for rake tea.

Look, you tell him until I find rake
tea, he don't get so much as a packet of

crisps.

Look, it's no good having a go at me,
Jenny. If you want to give someone a

coating, girl, give one to the geezer
who brought me up here, right?

Yeah, what about West Ham?

You've always got some bleeding good
excuse, haven't you, Danny?

And it's always me that falls for it.

West End 132.

Did they really?

God, blimey, they did well, didn't they?
Nicked two points up there.

Yeah, yeah, you know I do.

What do you mean, say it? I don't have
to say it, do I? Because I do.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. All the time.

What about... Yeah, I never think about
anything else.

What about Crystal Palace?

Yeah, what about Crystal Palace?

You are a rotten bastard, Danny.

They were there to a no -score draw.

Must have been a kicking match.

Three of them got their names took and
one got sent off.

Look, if you can't come round here, why
can't I come round there to you?

I want you, Danny.

I can't remember who got sent off.

I can't look in the bleeding paper
because it's not in the bleeding paper.

heard it on the telly.

But why can't I come round there to you?

Stow me, Jenny. How many more times have
I got to tell you? Because I've got

somebody with me. Now, what about
Arsenal?

It is not Crumpet. It is business.

It is a geezer. Now, what... God
almighty, girl. Look, just say hello to

will you? Hello, Jenny.

You satisfied?

That was Terry, right? Now, did that
sound like Crumpet?

No. Now, darling, please, tell me about
Arsenal.

Roddy Rakes?

What are you looking for him for,
Arthur?

A bit of sporting info I picked up this
afternoon. I think it might be right up

his street.

I thought you were a geezer. Wouldn't
give a journalist a life.

Dave, please, please. It does not do to
bear your grudges to the grave.

Anyway, any friend of yours?

Any idea where he was bound in the
minicab?

Well, I pointed him in the general
direction of his office, but knowing

I think you'll find him having air of
the dog in Fleet Street.

Any idea which boozer?

Yeah, he could try the Blackfriar. The
Blackfriar, right, thanks.

If you can't find him there...

Try the bell. The bell.

Well, if he isn't there, he could be in
a muttony duck.

Well, if he's not there, he could be in
Alvino's. Or the cheddar cheese.

Yeah, he uses that a lot. If he's not
there, he could try the cockpit.

If he isn't there, he could try the wig
and pen.

And if he's not there, he could be in
Mother's Bunch.

If you can't find him there, well, I
should try any one half a dozen pups.

Heir to the dog.

Sounds to me as if he's swallowing the
old bloody pack of hounds.

Thanks, Dave, anyway.

Thirsty geezer.

Nine, ten, jack.

Say, is it?

I could be that with my second.

AKQ on the bounce.

Three, four, five.

Ten, jack, queen.

Rubbish. Eight, queen, flush!

Pick the buzzer! All right, don't get a
coronary.

Blimey, all you've done is win a few
hands of cards.

No need for a bleeding lap of honour, is
there? Well, it's my competitive

nature, isn't it? Don't give me all that
competitive crap.

If you had any competitive spirit, you'd
be on a park sticking a ball in the

net, not here selling your memoirs.

How'd your lot do today? Do you know?

They lost one plonk.

Don't that worry you?

No.

Well, it should, shouldn't it?

God, blimey, it'd worry me sick if I'd
just nicked off and left the team in a

lurch like that.

Oh, yeah, well, I'd be pig -sick if
they'd have won 1 -0.

But losing, well, losing just goes to
prove that they can't do it without me,

see?

You big -headed bastard.

Oh, it's all right being big -headed. I
mean, it's OK being big -headed if

you've got something to be big -headed
about.

But if there's no talented big -headed
bastards that get up my nose... Yeah,

right, I can understand that.

But what about loyalty?

Loyalty? Loyalty's the number one, mate.
I'm the guy that goes out there every

Saturday afternoon and gets great big
lumps kicked out of his shins.

That's what you're paid for, innit?

I mean, what about the club? Your mates?

The manager?

Manager?

My manager is a bleeding idiot. He's a
psycho.

Do you know what his idea of a half
-time team talk is?

He comes into the dressing room and he
says, OK, lads, now, I know you're

1 -0, but what I want you to do is to
just keep pumping them balls right up

fence. I mean, that is rubbish. Now, you
know it's rubbish. It's a rubbish club.

Rubbish manager.

But I'm not, and I know, I know I'm not
rubbish.

I've got better things to do.

What, like spending all your dough on
birds, booze and bookies, eh?

Then coming down here so you can sell
your sordid little story just to pay for

it? Certainly.

Is it worth it?

Look, Terry, I told you.

It's in my nature, isn't it?

Yeah, but one of these days, you see,
you're going to overstep the mark,

you?

Your murky past is going to catch up
with you, isn't it?

Hello? It's Danny Varro, sir.

Who wants him?

No, no, no, I don't want classified ads.

Look, I'm waiting to speak to your
sports department, and I've been put

to the woman's page.

Yeah, well, not half as sorry as I am,
madam.

Hello, sport?

Oh, my name is Daly, Arthur Daly.

Yes, I'm trying to get in touch with
your Mr.

Rakes.

Yeah, I appreciate he's not in the
office at this hour of the day, but I

wondered if perchance you had recourse
to his present whereabouts.

Daly, Arthur Daly.

Oh, I am, yes. Yes, we are members of
the same club.

I am in Fleet Street.

No, no, no, I'm sorry. It's very
personal and I wish to speak only to Mr.

What do you mean, drop him a postcard?

Listen, friend, don't you take that high
-handed attitude with me or I'll have

you... Hello? Hello? Hello?

No luck, Mr. E .T.

Young up on me.

Oh. That is typical of your gutter
press.

Serve them right if I sold them up the
river and took the story at one of the

posh papers.

At least with him, you know you're
dealing with gentlemen.

Oh, nice to show it up.

We'll get some funny ones in from there
as well. Yeah?

Yeah. Here, do another one.

Yeah, no, no, no. I've trolled round
more street freak boozers than enough.

Yeah, well, that might be your big
mistake.

How do you mean?

I'm not dodging about. You keep missing
him.

He's bound to pop in for one sometime,
Ronnie is. Sure to. Yeah?

Look, why don't you just settle yourself
down here and, uh... Oh.

Yeah, you're right. What about you?

Yeah, yeah, thanks very much, love,
don't mind if I do.

There you go.

Oh, lovely, cheers.

Yeah.

Tell you what, only ever saw you play
once in the flesh.

You know, not on telly, like. Oh, yeah?

When was that?

It's got to be two seasons ago. It was
an FA Cup tie, it was at Craven Cottage.

Oh, yeah, I remember, yeah, yeah. We won
2 -1, didn't we? Yeah.

Didn't play half bad then, did we?

Not many played out. You're bleeding
skin, mate.

I remember it. Do you know, I laid the
first one off, then got the second with

eight minutes to go.

That's right. Went from the corner,
wasn't it?

That's right, yeah. Came over, half
fully, splat, straight in the corner and

it. How's that, son? Pick that one out.

I really hated you, I tell you. Look
here.

You're a full -on supporter, aren't you?

Yeah. Red hot, me.

No, but that... I mean, you were a
different class, weren't you?

Do you know that weren't two seasons
ago? It was four.

Well, time marches on.

Well, it does when you play up front,
son.

Exactly. Look, I know it's hard and all
that and you get kicked, but you've just

got to go out there and enjoy it while
it lasts.

Oh, I enjoy it all right. All the birds,
the boos, the football.

Well, not necessarily in that order.

And the woofers and the GGs.

Listen, you're a great player, right?

Why are you doing all this?

I owe a fella.

A bookie?

Yeah. Yeah. Well, you could call him
that, yeah.

Well, how much?

A lot.

How much is a lot?

Well, five grand.

Yeah, that is a lot.

So now do you understand all about this?

Have you owed him long?

Long enough.

Is he putting the screws on you?

Yeah, you could say he's putting the
screws on. So the sooner your mate gets

hold of Ronnie Rates, the better, right?

Yeah, right.

I'll hurt him, Robbie. I'll put his
teeth right down his throat. It'll be my

pleasure. Know what I mean? Because he's
a lippy little sod.

But I don't go a bundle on her in her.

Because I don't like birds.

Well, not as a general rule.

I mean, yeah, OK, I admit, I've hung a
few on babs over the years. Well, that's

domestic, isn't it? You know what I
mean, Rob?

I mean, when you're living with a bird,
well, you're bound to lose your bottle

now and again.

Well, it's only human nature, isn't it?

But, I mean, Rob, all things considered,
well, I'd rather not hang one on this

one. Well, not unless I'm really after.

Yes, Ray.

But do you understand what I'm getting
at, Bob?

Yeah, you've made your point. Well, I
remember this time with Babs, right? She

started rucking me because I'd been out
with her lads drinking, right? So I go

in there, all innocent.

So to top it off, what have I done? I've
hung one on her, haven't I? Only a

playful tap. Well, instead of riding it
like anybody in their right mind would,

the silly cow, she came onto it, didn't
she?

Wallop. You know what I mean?

I put the poor cow out cold.

You know what your problem is, Cleary?

Yeah, I'm shacked up with a lunatic
bird.

Oh.

You sup up on verbal diarrhoea?

Oh, come on, come on.

All right, all right.

Where is he, Jenny?

Well, he ain't here.

Well, you'd better tell us where he is,
then, before Clifton loses his bottle.

Time, gentlemen, please.

Come along now, ladies and gentlemen.

Good night.

Good night. Come along now.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night. Come along now, ladies and
gentlemen.

Good night. Good night.

Good night, sir.

Oh, stone me. What a bleeding hell is
that Arthur, eh?

It's tomorrow, isn't it? Here, face your
game.

Hey, what?

Yeah, what are you doing? What are you
doing?

Hey! Don't worry about that. Penalty
prize competition.

Penalty prize?

Come on, son. Give a sit over here.

All right, then. All right. No, but
you're the pro. You've got to go in

Well, all right, son. Don't bother me.
Go on. Go on. Off you go.

Hey, then. Oh, look. Hey, the brick. Oh,
yeah.

Yeah. No, hang on. I'll sit.

Good morning. Oh, is it already?

I'm trying to track down your Ronnie
Rakes.

Now, you wouldn't happen to know where
he is, would you?

I know where he isn't.

I'm not here officially.

I'm supposed to be following up some
escaped python story from a domestic zoo

Clitheroe Length.

That's very interesting.

But you don't think you're going to help
me track him down?

Where have you looked for him so far?

I've looked in all of them.

Oh, well, I wouldn't know where else to
suggest them.

Here.

How do you spell asphyxiated, is it? Y
-X -I -O -I -X -Y.

Let's fix it.

Let's fix it.

Put Strangle, my son.

Cheers.

Have you tried him in his flat?

His what?

Ronnie. Have you been around to his
flat?

It's there! What a save!

Very good. Take it again.

Take what again? You moved before I
kicked it, son. I never did.

Yes, you did. Look, referee's decision
final.

Take it again. Take nothing again. That
was a great save. Follow him.

Champions of the universe!

Fair enough, fair enough, fair enough.
Take it again, best out of three, right?

You said it was sudden death. I've never
said it was sudden death. You did. We

always play it best out of three. I've
always done it anyway.

Go on, back you go. Go on, please, go
on. All right, all right. Fair enough.

Right.

I don't know if you can bung at me
sometimes.

Right. I'm ready.

OK, cut hold of this.

Well, where are you going?

I'll tell you in a minute.

Going for a jimmy.

Stakes down with reinforcements.

All right, I'll get it.

Hello, Danny.

Sorry to be a bother.

Mr Rafferty said he wouldn't mind a
word.

Excuse me.

Where is he?

Hold on, hold on. Who are you?

You bastard.

Ah, yeah, you must be Jenny, eh?

It's half past five.

No, no, I think you've stopped.

It is 27 minutes to six.

Very nearly.

27 minutes to six?

Very nearly.

In the morning?

I believe so.

There's no such bloody time.

Who do you say you are again?

My credentials.

What's it say?

Arthur Daly, Esquire, that is who I am.

Licensed automobile dealer. Those are my
professional qualifications.

A second -hand car salesman?

Yeah, broadly speaking. But I do have
several other irons in the fire.

I don't need a second -hand bloody car.

I am here regarding one of my other
several irons. I don't need a second

bloody car, and certainly not at half
-past five in the bloody morning.

I .e., the personal representation of
several celebrity clients in the fields

entertainment and endeavour.

You're a variety agent that sells used
cars.

May I come straight to the point?

It wouldn't come amiss.

Danny Farrow.

Danny Farrow?

Famous footballer? Flogging his
revelations to the press?

Clown prince tells all?

No?

I'm his business manager.

If you'd like to make an offer.

Is it a G -up?

No.

Tell the truth. You're trying to get me
at it, right?

No, no, no.

Those prats in the office put you up to
this.

Plain silly buggers trying to stitch me
up. No, no, no, no, this is 28 carat. I

mean, this is thingy, isn't it? A scoop.

Tomorrow's headlines.

I'll give you tomorrow's headlines!

You bloody lunatic!

You heard scram before I kicked your
bloody head in!

No, no, you watch it, or I will take the
story somewhere else. Story?

Danny Farrow's tasteless tittle -tattle,
you want to sell it to me?

I've been drunk with him so many times I
night off by heart.

An odyssey through the bedrooms of the
nation's faceless slags.

That's not a bloody story. That's not a
bloody story. Oi, Oi, here.

I've got him in a penthouse suite. All
expenses paid.

You still here? No, no, no, no.

The day he gets his comeuppance, that's
the bloody story.

Why can't you take me with you?

Really put a cat amongst the pigeons,
wouldn't it?

Well, haven't you stirred things up
enough already?

No, I'm dropping you off.

Rafferty don't own me.

Don't he?

He's a married man.

Yeah, well, they often are, aren't they?

I'm just his bit on the side, aren't I?

Does he pay your rent?

So? He owns the flat.

I'm not his only bit on the side.

I'm what's known as his South London
job.

Keep this bleepin' flat for all I care.

Look, are you sure he's going to be at
the driving range?

Regular as clockwork Sunday morning.

Oh, you've sliced it, Rafferty.

It's your grip, see? You've got it
twisted. Look, let me show you how.

give me any mouth, you lippy little sod.

You've enough to answer for already.

Look, I'll get you readies. Don't worry
about it. It doesn't get the matter of

the readies. Now, you remember that.

You can't just warn around romping birds
that don't belong to you.

That is a fact of life, Barrow.

That is why you have to learn your
lesson.

When I let Cliffon loosen you, don't
think just of it as a hiding son.

Accept it as a bit of further education.

See who that is.

You all right, Danny?

Who is it?

No, we don't want any trouble, Rafferty.
You better piss off, then, hadn't you?

And you won't get any.

Just walk towards me, Danny.

He's staying where he is.

Oh, dear, oh dear. Listen, tell this
thick -eared gorilla to get out of the

Who is it?

Danny, walk towards me.

I don't care who he is.

Pardon, Clifton.

Go on, my son. Club of the bugger.

Go on, hit him.

Terry.

Terry? Terry McCann?

That's right, sunshine.

But Clifton, innit? Eh?

Clifton Fields!

Eh? Do what?

God blimey!

Look, 1963, Hoxton Barbs. Qualifying
rounds, NABC Championship.

Eh? Eh?

1964, I had you again. Shepard's Bush,
right?

Junior ABAs!

It ain't. It bloody well is, mate. Oh,
dear, oh, Lord.

A couple of scraps they were.

Oh, not meant to one, all right. That's
right. You cursed me, sir. Yeah, what

about Oxton Barnes?

Twice in a second I put you down, three
times in the third. You're getting up,

though, aren't you?

Didn't I? I gave you the right idea,
though, didn't I?

What about the second one, though? You
two have finished your trip down memory

lane.

Well, at least we got our heads down and
went out two -fisted, which is more

than you can say for a lot of these
today.

Athletes, Terry, sportsmen, I've shot
them, sir.

They ain't worth fighting over, that's a
fact.

Are you bottling it?

No, I'm not.

I ain't bottled anything in my entire
life.

But me and Terry, we go a long way back.

We're a bit too long in the tooth to go
for a decider.

I'll go along with that.

I'll be straight with you, Mr Rafferty.

I don't think I'll ever work for you
again.

But if it was your missus the lad gave
one to, I'd have stuck up for you.

But given one of your bit of stuff,
different kind of fish. Know what I

There is a subtle difference.

Right. I mean, scrubbers.

Fair game for everyone. Know what I
mean?

Oi, Danny.

Come on.

Excuse me, Mr Rafferty.

Very lucky boy.

Given one to my missus.

What's he mean?

Who'd give one to my missus?

Look, I'd pay somebody to give one to my
missus.

And another thing. If I paid a bill,
It's only for Lens.

It's not down to Larkins.

When the FA Cup comes around, you can
settle up in tickets.

Oh, dear, oh, dear. You must have had to
put up quite a fight before they

kidnapped him.

Big pieces, weren't they?

Enormous.

Yeah, well, let's check out before they
spot the damage.

Where are your motors?

Mine's in the basement. Yeah, in the car
park. Yeah, mine too. I'll meet you

down there as soon as I've settled the
bill.

Goodbye.

Yes, sir?

Fair enough, sweet. Check it out. Could
I have a do -ins?

Hey, hold on, hold on.

You sure that's us? We've only been here
one night.

Yes, sir.

Oh, my good God.

No wonder our dusky Arab cousins are
moving their caravans on to pastures

You've got a pen.

He's a bit tight, your mate, then, is
he? A bit tight? Do you know how much

Perignon is? Do you? No.

He's going to go garrity when he sees
it. I mean, he's going to go dark. See

now. It's a good idea to check for this
message.

Oh, my God, not another one, surely?

You might well stare.

You dirty, disgusting sod.

Leave it out, Jess.

Leave out nothing.

I'm going to blow your brains to
buggery.

Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.
Listen, we can talk about this.

It's none of your business.

You bastard!

Terry!

Oh, hello.

Where'd they come from?

Best wishes and kind regards.

They're from your Uncle Arthur.

Sling it.

Oh, it's a shame to waste it.

Can I take it to maternity for an
unmarried mum?

You can do what you like with it.

Sorry, sister.

Student murder.

Oh, well, give it time. If you don't
want it, it's going back to my dear

Tough. Would Mason please go to
casualty?

Pulled it yet?

Yeah, sorry I didn't get in yesterday.

Early indoors, had family over. You know
what that's like.

Oh, dear, oh, dear. You were lucky to
get away with superficial burns.

He could have made a culling out of you
as easy as winking.

Still, couple of days in here, you'll be
as right as round.

Seen the papers?

Oh, look at this.

Vengeance on Barrow.

Farmer's fury, farmer's unfickled
footballer.

Sucked at Wormpool there and I'll have a
field day, I tell you.

Bet you got a nice view, Bob, didn't
you?

Me? A nice few bob.

What, with penthouse sweets and Dom
Penning on shampoo?

That has cost me an arm and a leg.

What about all this?

I copped for nothing out of that lot.

As soon as that gum went off, I
scarpered.

Once I made sure you were going to be
all right.

Motherly, the old bill and the blood
wagon coming.

You get a mention in all of them.

They spelt your name wrong.

Will Sister Richards please report to
reception?

Fancy wanting to talk Randy Andy.

I tell you, Terry, there are some funny
buggers about.

Is Danny all right?

Not a scratch.

You copped a lot.

Well, what's it all in aid of?

Had he given the geezer's daughter one
or something?

In every sense of the word.

It's no stopping him, is it?

It's a bit old -fashioned, isn't it? I
mean, if your daughter's in the club,

get her married.

Would you fancy a son -in -law who had
also given your missus one?

He never.

Mother and daughter.

Childhood and both.

Full house.

Oh, my God.

And there is talk of a first cousin not
having had to go without her share.

But that has not been substantiated.

Well, I've done about football, mate.

But if they ever decide to make Nookie
an Olympic event, he's got to be

England's captain, hasn't he?

Ah, this one you haven't seen.

Right, so you did get this exclusive.

Vado de Vamoose.

Club in Holland's come up with a strong
offer.

Holland? Ooh.

Really be tiptoeing through the tulips,
haven't they?

Oh, dear, those Dutch birds have got no
chance.

Well, why not?

I mean, they're never going to get away
from him with those little wooden clogs

on, are they?

Clip club. Ooh.

Oh, no,

no, no, no, no, no.

They're not for you.

No, they're for her indoors.

If you want to, I'll change the
situation.

Right people, right time, just the wrong
location.

I've got a good idea.

If you keep me near, I'll be so good for
you.

I could be so good for you.

I'm going to help you. Love you like you
want.

I do.