Original subtitles

["The Good Life" by Neil Hannon playing]

[crowd cheering]

[chortling] What,

with Scotland Yard breathing down me neck?

Fuck off! [laughs]

[all laughing]

["The Good Life" continues]

Do me a favor.

[all laughing]

Solomons.

That was round the back, wasn't it?

Yeah. Down that alley.

We went there to meet what's his name… uh, Mickey, Mick, um…

Mikey?

No, no. Harry, Harry, Harry… Ah, fuck.

Not Harry Michaels?

That was it. Harry Michaels, Harry fucking Michaels.

'Course it was! Harry Michaels.

[laughs]

What was it about?

Didn't he have some kind of problem?

What the fuck is he going on about?

[all laughing]

No, his brother had a record business.

Funny sort of name.

I can see it spinning round.

They usually do, Dodgy.

[all laughing]

[man] Someone take him home, hey.

Barry! That was it. Barry.

Deram Records.

Barry, Barry, Barry…

Barry, Barry… What the fuck am I talking about?

[man] I'm fucked if I know.

[all laughing]

You wouldn't think he'd just got out the clinic, would you?

["The Good Life" continues]

[crowd cheering]

[man] Here, you'll never guess who I bumped into the other day.

Larry Lord!

-Lordy? -Yeah.

[all laughing]

He ain't half put on weight. Cor blimey!

Fat as a pig.

[all laughing]

Here, here. Talking of golden oldies,

Freddie Mays is getting out next week.

Be good to see old Freddie again after-- is it 30 years?

[indistinct chatter]

[man 2] Heh heh! Lock up your daughters!

[man] Lock up your granny, more like!

[all laughing]

Hello. Where's he gone?

You haven't invited that cunt to the party, have you?

[all, mockingly] Do me a favor!

[all laughing]

You've done well for yourself, didn't ya?

Come here, Pops.

Here y'are, Grandad. Go get yourself a nice bird.

What do you take me for? A cunt?

[relaxing orchestral music playing]

[crowd cheering]

[orchestral music continues]

[steady popping sound on recording]

[music subsides]

[Gangster 55] This is 1968.

[billiard balls clacking]

I'm playing Jack the Lad at snooker,

when all of a sudden, Fat Charlie's come in.

Not that he was fat, 'cause he wasn't. He was skinny.

But he was called fat 'cause his mom was fat,

and it's how he was distinguished from the other Charlie, Skinny Charlie.

Now he was fat, but it was too late by then to swap it around.

Anyway, he says to me…

Go and see Freddie Mays.

[Gangster 55] Fucking hell. My heart was going mad.

Freddie Mays. Freddie Mays.

"The Butcher of Mayfair."

The man was a legend.

He'd only done a copper in Bethnal Green and got away with it, for fuck's sake.

That's how you get to the top.

Kill a bent cop, make a splash.

After that, Freddie was king.

What a place.

A fucking palace.

In he came.

There he was

in those handmade, Italian leather shoes.

Silk socks.

The suit? Do me a favor. The man was class.

A class act.

Style. Im-fucking-peccable.

What a man.

I mean a real man.

All right, how're you doing?

Yeah, good.

Do you want a drink?

Yeah.

'Cause you look a bit scared, son. Are you scared?

No.

[soft chuckle]

[Gangster 55] Scared?

I didn't need a drink, I was drunk enough.

Drunk on the smell of Italian leather,

arse-holed on the smell of success.

I hear you've been hanging around with Mad John.

Yeah.

This incident last week, apparently you handled yourself quite well.

Yeah.

Trevor heard that as well, didn't you, Trev?

[laughing] Yeah.

He thinks you're a bit of a laugh, I think.

Does he?

He's a bit of a wide boy, our Trevor. Bit of an independent thinker.

Enjoys taking the piss. Things he gets up to.

[tuts disapprovingly]

You see, when you work for me, you do things my way.

There's no going behind me back,

no going out on your own.

And there's no independent fucking thinking.

-[glass smashes] -Ah, fuck!

[Trevor] Ah, Freddie. [groans]

Because it irks me.

[Trevor sobbing] You fucking shit!

Yeah. That's the word. "Irks."

[Trevor groaning]

Anyway.

It appears we have a vacancy.

You're in, son.

[Gangster 55] Straight off, he gives me 500.

Five hundred in me hands.

I mean, this is 1968.

Do me a favor. Take out the rubbish, eh?

[Trevor] Hey…

[Trevor gasping]

[Trevor groans sharply]

[Freddie] Oh, and get yourself kitted out.

[upbeat ska music playing]

[Gangster 55] There we were, suited up,

wasted on these fucking toerags.

[up-tempo soul music plays]

[Young Gangster] We're the cops!

[runner] Sure you're cops!

[Young Gangster] Come here!

[runner] No, no, no, no!

Give me till next Thursday, please.

[Young Gangster] Thursday never fucking comes.

[runner screaming]

[Gangster 55] "Give me till next Thursday"? Slags.

It's pathetic.

Fucking excuses, all sorts.

From A to Z. The whole alphabet.

Jokers.

Two minutes later, they're in the Green Man giving it the big 'un,

like you're Harry the Spastic or something.

-Hold him. -Hey, now. What's the problem?

You are. Still, nothing I can't fix with a few tools, eh?

Oh, come on. Don't do anything stupid, Freddie.

What, like waste my time speaking to an arse hole like you?

Remember the last time we went through all this, eh?

That put a smile on your face, didn't it?

Leather seats, sir?

You wanna open the windows in this weather.

[window smashes]

Freddie, come on. It's not even my taxi.

[windows smashing]

It's not even my fucking taxi, you bastard.

Get off me. What are fucking looking at?

Damn, Freddie! [cries out]

Don't fucking do it, you bastard.

[indistinct shout]

What is it with you, you Cockneys, eh?

There you go.

I've got the name of a bloke who'll take a look at that for you.

Now let's see that money, eh?

By tomorrow.

[tool clanging]

-Freddie! -Aah!

[overlapping shouts]

Oh, no, no!

Get back to work, you lazy cunt.

Now, let's get this car back on the road, eh?

Let's get it off.

[man shouting]

[man screaming and wailing]

Now, Giggler, you stay lucky, eh?

[screaming continues]

You all right?

Yeah.

Nice.

Very nice.

Creative.

I like that.

Deserves a drink. What you having?

[lively chatter in background]

["Ten Guitars" by Engelbert Humperdinck plays]

Altogether now.

[men] ♪ Dance, dance, dance To our ten guitars… ♪

[Gangster 55] If we had a good day-- well, we always had a good day--

we'd end up at Fat Charlie's.

The whole gang of us.

There was Mad John. Yeah, well, he was really mad.

Billy Not-So-Smart.

Roland. Always with two birds.

Derek. One would do for him.

Eddie? Poor, little Eddie.

And Tommy, Freddie's old house pet.

Happy as fucking monkeys in a cage.

Shag pile and Babycham.

No ambition. Not like Freddie.

Not like me.

[telephone rings]

Yeah? Shut up a minute.

Turn that fucking music off!

Eddie! Turn it off!

[music stops abruptly]

Eddie. Turn the music up, Eddie.

[overlapping complaints]

Right.

[man] Play the music, then. Turn the music on.

Boys. Get in the car.

The club's on fire.

[all murmuring]

[indistinct remark]

Come on, Derek. Get a move on, Derek.

Come on!

[ominous music playing]

[car horns blaring]

[overlapping shouts]

How long you been here?

Just got here, just pulled up.

-D'you see anyone? -No.

No one on the door?

Supposed to be Joe. Didn't turn up. Don't know where he is.

-Everyone get out all right? -Yeah, I think so.

[Tommy] Yeah.

Tell him.

[coughing and crying]

I'm really, really sorry, Freddie.

What's Freddie going to do, take it out of your bleedin' wages?

Tell him.

There were two of them. Table six.

Ordered champagne, then didn't eat nothing.

Couple of minutes after they left, whoosh.

Lennie Taylor.

Regulars, were they?

Alright, it was an oversight. She's obviously paid for it.

All right, angel, try and describe them.

What the hell is he up to?

[glass shattering]

[tires screeching]

[gunshot]

[Gangster 55] Lennie Taylor's goons, torching our club!

Lennie Taylor, you cunt.

Think you're better than Freddie Mays?

Lennie fucking Taylor.

You little piece of dead meat.

Pea-brained little fuck!

What did I say?

What did I fucking say?

Right out in the open.

What did I tell you?

And what do you do? What do you go and do?

It was him. He was one of them.

You shut your fucking mouth!

[Gangster 55] Well, what was I supposed to do? He started the fire.

He fucking shot at me.

[thug groans]

[salsa music rises]

Being flash and a coon, Roland had to be different.

Goes in with the shaft. Bends the fucking thing.

I tell a lie. Breaks the fucking thing.

Bish-bosh.

Mad John's doing his feet.

Meticulous attention to detail.

Billy's doing his ribs.

Stone Age xylophone.

He'll be all right.

All right?

All right? The cunt's in traction for the next nine months.

Might need a fucking wheelchair.

Plastic surgeon. All right?

It is not fucking all right. It is all fucking wrong, you morons.

[salsa music playing]

Saw him about a year later.

Some scarring, bit of a limp. Seemed all right.

He bought me a drink, what can I say?

He misbehaved. Got punished.

Fuck!

Fore!

Should have seen the looks we got when we brought the clubs back.

Remember what I said?

This is a delicate matter.

What do you do?

You go and give the cunt a handicap.

[laughing]

Fucking grief you've caused me.

"Fuck what Freddie says," is that it, eh?

Is it?

Well, there's the chair. Who wants it?

There it is, come on, who wants it?

Come on! Who wants it?

No.

You ain't got the bollocks, none of you.

And you. You cunt.

Striding down the road like John Wayne

looking for a fucking bullet in your brain.

Arse hole.

[sighs]

Right.

Now I've got to go and speak to that piece of shit Lennie Taylor.

No, no. Sit down.

You.

You're coming with me.

-What, now? -Yes, now.

Don't use it.

-What you having? -Whiskey.

That's it.

-No, it's on the house. -No, that's for you.

Fucking hell, thanks.

Well, well, well.

This is nice.

-Hello, Freddie. -All right, Lennie?

-Long time, no see. -Yeah.

Bobby.

Take a walk.

I went to see him today.

[Freddie] Yeah?

Hospital.

No, no thanks.

Yeah, I took him up some flowers, you know. Some grapes.

Nice.

I should have took him up some fucking Nesquik.

Cunt's got no teeth.

I thought me and you sorted out our problems long ago, Freddie.

-Oh, did you? -Yes, I fucking did.

What's this about then, eh?

-Why are you here? -Why do you think I'm here?

You wanna go to war with me, Freddie?

That what this is about?

-[Gangster 55] Oi. Look at me. -[Lennie] You wanna go to war?

Oi. Camel cunt. Look at me.

Look into my fucking eyes.

Coming here like a Fry's Turkish fuckin' Delight.

Come on, then. Me and you, outside.

Me and you outside on the fucking cobbles. We'll have a strainer.

We'll sort this out once and for all, who's who and what's what.

What? You scared? You scared?

Lennie.

Why don't you just sit down.

Sit down?

Sit down?

You fuckin' comin' in my club and telling me to sit down?

You fucking long streak of fucking piss!

Lennie, don't fuck around.

My place was petrol-bombed.

-Oh. -Oh.

Oh, it's about that, this, is it?

Four thousand it cost me.

-Yeah-- -Four fucking thousand.

[soft chuckle]

Oh, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie.

Listen, when I heard about that…

well, I couldn't have been more surprised.

I was gutted.

But I hope you ain't insinuating that had anything to do with me.

'Cause that'd be wrong.

My conscience is clear.

[Gangster 55] Look at me.

Look into my fucking eyes.

If I wanted to come after you, Freddie…

I'll fucking come after you.

[music intensifies]

-Aw, fuck! -Maxie, Maxie, Maxie, Maxie.

[tutting sounds]

[Gangster 55] Oh, dear Maxie, just you wait, son.

[tense music]

[Maxie screaming]

But that's nothing compared to what happened to Lennie Taylor.

[gunshot]

He's a good boy, though, ain't he?

He ain't scared, is he?

[makes tutting sounds]

All right.

All right.

Let's just say he did work for me.

Did.

Not to say I gave the order, is it?

Let's just say, for the sake of argument…

someone's come in your club…

with a lighted cigarette.

Dropped it in a bin.

And a subsequent fire's ensued.

And let's just say for the same sake of argument

that my man slipped in the showers.

Or someone's dropped a fucking taxi on his head.

Well, these things happen.

How does that sound? Sounds about right, doesn't it?

Yeah. Sounds about right, doesn't it?

[nonsensical sounds]

Hah!

[laughs]

Come here, come here.

Hey. Hey.

[laughs]

B-B-B-Bobby. Bubbly.

Let's have a nice little drink, eh?

[glasses clinking]

[glass smashes]

[laughing]

Fucking warm champagne.

Fucking prick.

Listen. You wanna go and get a proper drink?

Yeah. Go on.

Right.

[tense music rises]

[wipers swishing]

[Gangster 55] He had on that gray two-piece mohair.

That was a great suit. Immaculate cut.

Italian.

Always with a white shirt.

Always.

His ruby cufflinks.

I loved them. I fucking loved them.

Beautiful watch. Wafer thin. Solid gold.

Hardly know you'd got it on.

Bond Street. Two and a half grand.

You like this tie pin, don't ya?

Here.

Have it.

[ethereal music playing]

[mysterious music playing]

[drumroll]

[lively soul music playing]

Hiya. Sorry I'm late. It's pissing down.

Fuck it. Don't worry about it.

Mel went on for you.

I bet she's really pissed off with me.

Livid. Called you everything.

"Fucking new girl. Comes in late.

Second day. Bleedin' tart.

I'm earning her fucking money for her."

I'm joking.

I'm not serious, I'm making it up.

She don't care.

What's your name again?

Karen.

[music continues]

We drinking wine?

Yeah, why?

It's a bit suspect, innit?

Good for the blood.

Freddie Mays is in.

On his own?

Nah, with a mate.

Who's Freddie Mays?

Table two. But he's mine.

Only he don't know that yet.

Right, let's see.

Chateaubriand. Rare.

Asparagus, potatoes gratin.

Bollocks.

No dessert. Black coffee. Espresso.

It's called espresso.

Might even order a cigar after. Cuban.

See what you make of that.

-Blow your fucking mind. -You reckon?

Oh, and I've organized some company.

What do you mean?

Well, you know. A couple of blokes on our own.

Drinking wine.

Bit suspect, innit?

Mel and you. What's your name?

-Karen. -Right.

I want the pair of you to go out there

and keep Freddie Mays and his goon company.

You didn't mention nothing about that in the ad.

I'm not asking you to suck him off or anything.

Just keep him company.

He's clean, he's well-mannered, and he's rich.

And if you like him, be my guest. Fuck off and marry the cunt.

Count yourself lucky, girl. He's a nice guy.

Not like most of 'em in here.

Mel, how many times have I told you? Don't badmouth the club.

This is a class emporium.

-Where are you going? -I'm going to the bog.

Table two, Karen. I'll be over in a minute.

Mind if I sit down?

Suit yourself.

I was told you were well-mannered, Mr. Freddie Mays.

What makes you think I'm Freddie Mays?

Woman's intuition. I also heard that you were quite the gentleman.

-Did you now? -Yeah.

And that you were rich.

So you're a fucking gold-digger, then?

Nah, I'm not a fucking gold-digger.

I'm a normal working girl.

So you're a hooker?

Well, Freddie Mays don't pay for it.

And I don't sit around in clubs taking shit from gangsters.

So much for the gentleman crap.

I suppose they have to talk you up, you being important and that.

Karen, I want you to meet Freddie Mays.

Hello.

Hello, Mr. Mays.

You are?

Mel, why don't you treat my friend here to a dance?

Oh, fuck off. You're having a laugh, ain't ya?

Sorry about the table manners. Come on.

Come on, he don't bite.

Please, sit down.

[Freddie] Sorry about that.

Who is he?

Just a business associate.

[ominous music playing]

[lively music continues]

Here, let me do that.

Thank you.

[ominous music resumes]

-[lively music continues] -Sorry, do you want one?

No, thank you.

I have to look after my voice.

What's that, then? You an actress?

Nah.

Could be an actress, face like that.

Thank you.

Appreciated.

Don't mention it.

-No, I sing. -You sing?

What, here?

No, I dance here.

[ominous music resumes]

[Gangster 55] Jane, June, Jackie, Jessica, Julie…

She got bumped pretty sharpish.

That's the J's. On to K.

K for Karen.

Freddie Mays and all his skinny birds.

Oh, dear, Freddie.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

Sing something now.

[Karen laughs]

Go on, get up and sing something.

Get up and sing something? I thought you meant here at the table.

-No. -For you.

I mean get up, up on the stage.

Oh, yeah, right.

Any requests, Mr. Mays?

Freddie, Freddie.

Go on, I'm serious.

I don't think the management would approve.

Oh, don't worry about the management.

I was talking to the girls backstage.

Yeah?

Told me you was a bit of an animal.

Oh, really? Oh, did they?

Did they say which bit?

[both laugh]

-Did they specify? No? -No.

Anyway, don't change the subject.

-Hang on. -What?

Hang on. Move.

[ominous music playing]

[Gangster 55] Just another bird.

Just another skinny fucking bird.

Good evening, everyone. This is for Mr. Mays.

Freddie.

Freddie.

Shut up.

You like her, then?

I said shut it.

♪ It seems ♪

♪ Life has played a game on me ♪

♪ I'm lost ♪

♪ In a sea of misery ♪

♪ My love has turned his back on me ♪

♪ Heartache, why won't you let me be? ♪

♪ Baby, have some mercy ♪

♪ Please don't make me ♪

♪ Beg on bended knees Oh, please ♪

♪ Have mercy on me ♪

[ominous music playing]

[Gangster 55] And you, Mr. Freddie Mays.

You had to go swimming in her eyes.

Dancing in her hair.

You had to slip into her mouth.

Slide over her tongue.

Fall down her throat, deep down into her belly,

right into her blood.

You had to fall asleep

wrapped around her beautiful, beating heart.

[continues singing] ♪ Have mercy on me ♪

[crowd applauds]

[Gangster 55] Six months later, we're in the Zephyr,

me and Roland,

going past the Double Six.

Hold up. Park up along here.

Roland's pulled over.

Ain't that Lennie Taylor?

[Caribbean accent] Yeah, but who that there with him?

-It ain't. -Can't be.

It is.

It fucking well is. That's Eddie Miller.

[Gangster 55] Eddie. Eddie Miller.

That was Eddie Miller talking to Lennie Taylor.

[drumroll]

[lively funk music playing]

What would Lennie Taylor want with a little shit like Eddie Miller?

Poor little Eddie.

Run, rabbit, run.

[Roland] Can't believe it. I just can't believe it.

That dirty little redneck Judas.

-[indistinct remark] -You know something, Roland?

I've never understood one fucking word you've ever said to me.

So shut the fuck up. Let me deal with this.

Sheila!

[pounding on door]

Who is it?

It's the big, bad wolf.

Oh, it's you.

Oh, I was just making some sweet tea.

Would you like a cup?

Fuck me. Hello, Roland.

Do you take sugar?

Sit down, Eddie.

-What's-what's that? -That…

That's my favorite ax, Eddie.

Oh, gentle Jesus, meek and mild. Please bless all babies.

Make children safe at night.

Eddie, look at me.

-I can't. -Eddie.

Look at my fucking eyes.

Look at my fucking eyes.

[Eddie groaning in pain]

Get up. Come on.

Sorry.

Come on, sit down.

[Eddie] All right, all right.

Shh, shh, shh.

Now, listen, listen.

Shh.

Deep breaths.

What did Lennie Taylor want, Eddie?

Lennie?

[sharp cry]

What did Lennie Taylor want, Eddie?

I was having a light ale, and minding my own fucking business.

You know me.

-You know what I'm like. -I don't, I don't.

Maxie picked me up. I didn't know what they wanted.

I'm a thief. I'm just a fucking thief, for fuck's sake.

All that has got nothing to do with me.

A thief? You couldn't rob your own arse hole, son.

Freddie, he's a lovely man.

-Eh. -He's been good to me.

But as for his business, that's none of my business.

I was in The Prussia,

minding my own business having a light ale.

The place goes quiet, I hear my name.

"Eddie." Ah, fuck. It's Maxie.

Maxie King. Camel coat. Nutty.

You are so fucking boring. Are you bored? Are you bored?

-I'm bored. -What's he want?

You're being boring.

Lennie Taylor wants to see me.

Now I've got to go and see him. I can't not go.

What am I gonna do, not go?

And then what?

So, I'm squashed in beside Maxie

and this other big bloke in the back of this Rover.

No one's saying nothing, dead quiet.

Get on with it, get on with it.

-And they take me to this club. -The Double Six.

That's right. Oh, fuck.

Look. Look. Lennie was there.

And he was asking questions about Freddie.

-But I told him to fuck off. -Did you?

-Yeah. -Did you?

Yeah. I said, "I'll have a drink,

but don't go asking questions about Freddie."

What sort of questions, Eddie?

What sort of questions?

What sort of questions, Eddie?

I can't-- I can't fucking remember.

I think you better try, son, don't you?

-Lennie, he reckons Freddie's losing it. -Does he?

Yeah, you know, love makes you fat sort of thing.

Love makes you fat.

Go on.

That's it.

That's a lovely place, the Double Six.

It's swanky. Loads of crumpet.

-Lennie seemed half decent, to be honest. -Did he?

Yeah, I can't remember what was said, but I do know that I didn't say nothing.

Look at me.

At my eyes.

I'm telling you the truth.

Eddie.

Look at my fucking eyes.

They're gonna do Freddie. Oh, God!

Friday. Outside The Candelabra.

[Eddie groaning] God! God! God! Ohh…!

Look.

Listen, I've told you now. Listen, you've got to warn Freddie.

You've got to tell him. Please, you've got to tell Freddie.

Please, shall we go and tell him, hey?

We'll go and tell him. We'll go and warn Freddie, eh?

We'll go and warn him, eh?

I love that smell. Do you like that smell?

That kiddy smell.

It's lovely.

Kids, eh?

Be the fucking death of you.

Eddie, come here.

Shh, shh, shh.

Eddie.

I want you to look at me.

[Eddie whimpers]

-Eddie… -I can't.

Look at me.

-Look at me. -I can't do it.

I can't do it.

Look what you've gone and done, eh?

Look at all the mess you've made, eh?

I can't, I can't.

Look. I can't, I can't.

Shh, shh.

-Ow, fuck! -Just look at me.

That's all I'm asking. Look at me.

That's it.

Weren't so difficult, was it?

No.

It's all right. Shh, shh, shh.

All right.

Come on, Eddie.

No, no, no. I'm telling you, Lennie Taylor is nothing but a…

[Gangster 55] Driving up the embankment,

Roland's talking about going straight to tell Freddie.

Freddie Mays. Freddie Mays.

I know something you don't.

[ominous music playing]

[high-pitched screech]

He don't deal with them kind of fuckers.

Pull over.

[Gangster 55] Pull over, Roland. Puncture.

[ominous music builds]

Where is this puncture, then?

It's not your side? Felt like it was your side.

Well, me no see nothing.

What are you bloody trying, laddy?

I'm stroking your frizzy hair.

[music builds to a climax]

[music stops abruptly]

Oh, fucking things!

Charlie, let me do that. You take the tea in.

Come on.

All right, girl?

Yeah.

-Are you putting on a bit of weight? -[playfully] Shut up.

One of them, please.

-Here. -Cheers.

Fucking headless, it said.

Fucking torso.

-Imagine that, hey. -John.

Karen, maybe you should go down and wait in the car, eh?

Oi.

Maybe you should go down and wait in the car, eh?

Take the shortcut through the fucking window.

[Karen] It's all right, he's just a bit old-fashioned.

Don't think I wanna be here anyway.

You wanna watch your mouth.

-Right. What were we saying? -It's gotta be him.

Well, let's take a look at it. All we know is a body's been found.

A Black body's been found, and one of ours in missing.

It's Roland. He's been missing for five days, Freddie.

Don't mean it's him, does it?

Look, what we're getting to is this: If it is him, it's them.

It's two and two now, innit? It all adds up.

Fucking right it does. What the fuck are we waiting for, hey?

Let's go, now. Hit them now.

We got to get uglier, Freddie. Take the initiative.

I'll show those bastards torsos.

I'll cut their fucking arms off.

[Mad John] He never deserved it.

Poor bastard.

Come on, Freddie. Say fucking something.

Look, let's just go now. Let's just hit 'em now!

Hold on. Hold on, John.

Think about it.

Why Roland? Eh?

I mean why not you? Or Tommy? Me?

All of us in one go. Bang, beautiful, perfect.

Fucking happy.

Now that would be a takeover.

That'd be nice. That I can see. But this…

don't make sense.

Something does not make sense.

Maybe it was meant for me.

-Maybe it was meant for you. -Shut it!

And another thing. What if it ain't him? What if it's someone else?

-Who the fuck else could it be? -Someone else!

-Look, I just think-- -Sit down!

All right.

Right.

This is what we do.

We wait.

All right? You all got that?

We wait.

We give it a couple of days.

And if he don't turn up, all right.

So be it.

All hell breaks loose.

[soft piano music playing]

[ominous music playing]

[knocking on door]

[Young Gangster] All right. All right, Freddie.

What's going on? Fr--

[interior door closes abruptly]

He gone deaf or something?

He doesn't want to be disturbed.

By anybody.

Yeah, well, I don't think that means me, does it?

That's what he said.

Cup of tea?

Bomb, was it?

No, we're redecorating.

Oh, are we? Well, that's nice, isn't it?

[Gangster 55] You let a bird into your life, the next thing you know,

the walls are all poof pink,

there's potpourri all over the bog and knickers in your cornflakes.

So, who's he in there with, or is that a secret?

No. He's in with Tommy.

And Roland's sister.

Listen, Karen.

I think we might have got off on the wrong foot and that…

-and if it's my fault, I'm sorry. -Yeah, well, we can always start again.

You know, you're not bad looking.

Not bad looking? Not bad looking?

-I'm a prince, darling. -Yeah?

Oh, yeah.

Why don't you find yourself a nice girl?

-I could help if you like. -Do me a favor.

I got so many birds, they're coming out me ears.

[Karen laughs]

I can't even hear meself think.

So, what's behind this, then?

Freddie's not allowed to see it yet.

What do you think, then?

Do you know, it's not a bad likeness of Freddie, as it happens.

Nose a bit on the large side, though, eh?

Very funny.

You know Freddie. He's mad about horses,

so thought it might make a nice engagement present.

You what?

An engagement present.

As in me and Freddie, getting married.

Didn't he tell you?

No, he fucking didn't. Are you up the duff or something?

Can we hear the patter of tiny feet?

-No, not yet. -[mockingly] No, not yet.

Bet you're over the moon, ain't ya?

Hap-hap-happy.

That's a nasty way of putting it.

I've never been happier.

And I'd have thought any mate of Freddie's would be happy for him too.

What's your problem?

Ain't me that's got a problem, darling, is it?

I'm not surprised he didn't tell you.

Not exactly over the moon, are you?

There's something really ugly eating away inside of you.

I can see it in your eyes. I could see it a mile off.

Well, I love Freddie.

I'd kill for that man.

-I don't give a fuck 'cause you might-- -You keep your knickers on.

I'm going to look after him. Whatever it takes.

-Do you understand me? -Keep your fucking knickers on.

[spits]

[firm whisper] Do you understand?

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Yeah.

I wish the best for you.

Really hope you're happy together.

-Yeah. -Yeah, really.

Congratulations.

Tell Freddie I'll catch up with him later.

Tell him, you know, I'm happy for him, for the both of you.

And, uh…

Karen…

take good care of him, eh?

[Gangster 55] Well, what was he gonna do?

Crack open the bubbly, smiling from ear to ear?

"I'm getting engaged!"

"Cor blimey, you ain't.

Fuck me. Nice one. Congrats.

You kept that under your hat. You romantic old so-and-so."

And I'm thinking love makes you fat. Poof.

[tense music playing]

[woman screams]

-[Freddie] Run! -[Karen screams]

[gunshot]

[gun clicks]

[Freddie] Run! Run, for fuck's sake!

This is for you, you fucking cunt.

[Karen] Get off him! Get off him!

This fucking gun, it doesn't fucking work!

-[Karen screaming] -[Lennie] Fucking cunt!

[Karen screaming] You bastards!

You want something done, you gotta do it your fucking self.

Where do you think you're going?

Get back inside, you cunt.

[Karen screaming] Don't hurt him! You bastards!

Maxie, shut her up.

[Karen] Get off me! Get off me!

[Freddie] Maxie, please, please.

Let her go.

Let her go!

Please!

Cut her.

[Freddie] No!

[Karen screams]

[muted] Please…!

[Freddie, muted] Shoot me! Why don't you shoot me!

[tense music playing]

[gunshot]

[Gangster 55] What a comedy. What a skirmish.

Look at his suit now.

Tatters.

The bird's fucked, but Freddie's still twitching.

He starts to move.

He tries to get up. Falls back. Hopeless.

Tries again.

Go on, son.

No. He's pulling himself along the pavement.

Trail of blood like a bleeding slug.

Come on, Freddie. Two more yards.

Fucking lying there on your leather settee.

That's it, Romeo.

Go on, give her a kiss.

Work the old magic.

[Freddie weeps and coughs]

[ominous music playing]

[Gangster 55] I've got a machete on the backseat,

a chopper on the passenger seat,

and this old Beretta tucked in me trousers.

And I'm fucking happy.

Green light.

Green light.

Green light.

I pull up outside where Lennie Taylor lives.

124 Jubilee Mansions.

Here's me outside where Lennie Taylor lives.

Ax, gun.

I'm out of the car. Walking.

See a car.

Pick it up.

M.O.T.

Throw it a million miles.

Walking.

Door.

Corridor.

Lift.

I'm Superman.

King fucking Kong.

I'm filling up.

I'm filling up.

[high-pitched screech]

Fifth floor.

Stop.

Open.

Out.

Corridor.

Walking.

Machete.

Ax. Gun.

Chisel. Tools.

118.

Fucking leather settee. 120.

Fucking handmade shoes.

122.

Draw back the hammer.

124.

[voice echoes] I'm electric. I'm frightening. I'm terrible.

[door crashes open]

We're in.

[Young Gangster] Don't mind if I do, Lennie.

[silenced gunshot]

Aah!

Aah!

[violent thud]

[Lennie groans]

[Lennie] Bastard, you…

[Lennie groans loudly]

["Why" by Anthony Newley playing]

Aah! You fucking cunt!

You better make a fucking good job of this, boy.

You better make a fucking good job of me!

Here, have a clock.

Aah!

Oh, you bastard!

[Lennie] Come on, then. Come on, then.

[Lennie groans]

[Lennie] Could you fucking finish me off?

Have you… what, have you lost your fucking bottle, have ya?

Lost the taste for it, have ya?

Come on, fucking get on with it.

[laughs]

["Why?" continues playing]

[speech inaudible]

["Why?" continues playing]

[indistinct] Come on. Come on.

Come on. Come on.

[Lennie taunts indistinctly]

["Why?" continues playing]

[song fades to a close]

You ready?

[Lennie] Yes.

[Young Gangster screams]

[mumbling] Who are you?

Who are you? Nothing.

You're nothing.

Look at you lying there like a…

pie-piece of m-meat…

m-meat. Meat.

[soft music playing]

[knocking on door]

Who is it?

Tommy.

Get dressed.

Why? What's wrong?

I'll be in the car.

You gonna tell me what this is all about, or what?

Freddie and Karen were jumped outside the Candelabra.

You what?

They cut Karen's throat.

Fuck me.

And what about Freddie?

Right. It's like this:

He's not dead, but he's in a bad way.

He's been cut to ribbons. 300-something stitches. Shot three times.

He's on the lot. Morphine, you name it.

Now, they're gonna try and operate again in the morning.

It's… touch and go.

But he's strong.

No.

Look, you fucker. I wanna see Freddie, I wanna see my mate.

Not possible.

They won't let you see him There's a… a situation.

What fucking situation?

A serious fucking situation, Tommy.

Fuck off!

Listen. Listen to me closely, Tommy.

Lennie Taylor has been killed.

-What? -Tonight.

Hacked to death at home.

You understand what that means?

Christmas has come early for my colleagues up there.

They're charging Freddie with murder.

It's perfect.

They've been after him for a long time.

It's a win double.

Freddie didn't kill Lennie.

But what it comes down to is Freddie's finished.

Now, piss off.

-Oh, yeah? I want to see Freddie. -Tommy, for fu--

You are some cunt.

-It's just money to you, innit? -All right, Tommy. Tommy!

There an admission price for this fucking freak show?!

-Tommy, calm down. -Is that it? Is that it?

-Is that fucking it?! -Fuck off. Fuck off.

Tommy?

You all right, mate?

Oh, Jesus.

All right, son.

There, put that in your hand, eh?

All right, mate?

[patting on back]

Poor fella.

[Tommy weeping]

Jesus.

All right, mate.

Silence in court!

[clamoring voices]

[Gangster 55] Old Judge Mumbling said in all his however fucking many years

the murder of Leonard Bertram Taylor…

We laughed.

Silence in court.

…was the most barbaric case he'd ever have the misfortune to try.

Judge told Freddie he was an animal

and gave him 30 years, to serve a minimum of 25.

How's that?

Take him down.

[gavel slams]

[clamoring voices]

[Gangster 55] British justice, eh.

[gavel slams]

[gavel slams]

[gavel slams]

Poor old Freddie.

The king is dead.

[Mad John] I told you. I fucking told you.

Someone should listen to me for a fucking change.

None of this would have happened.

All right, John. You was right. So what? It's no fucking good to us now.

Fucking right I was right.

Come on, Tommy. Maxie, what's his fucking fate?

That's what we're here for, right? Rather than all this old fanny.

Don't be fucking stupid.

Don't you call me fucking stupid, Charlie.

He's right. We can't go fucking near him.

Anything happens to Maxie, we're all fucked.

There's no way on this fucking earth is that cunt…

that fucking cunt…

gonna do what he done to Freddie and get away with it.

There's no way he's gonna avoid me.

-John, John, John. -There's no fucking way.

It's a very difficult time. I'm trying to deal with it as best I know.

This ain't helping.

He's dead. He's fucking dead.

All right, all right. Just calm down.

Everyone, just fucking calm down.

Act like men.

Use your fucking loaf.

[Young Gangster makes indistinct sound]

[Tommy] You got something to say?

'Cause if you have, say it.

I want to hear it. Fucking say it.

-You sure? -Fucking say it.

He's right, you're wrong.

Fucking right, I'm right.

You saying I'm not up to it?

I don't fucking know, Tommy. You tell me.

You cunt!

-I'll fucking-- -You'll fucking what?

What?

What are you gonna do?

[low whisper] Start crying?

Sit down, Tommy.

Derek.

Get Tommy a drink, eh?

[tense music playing]

[Gangster 55] The king is dead.

Long live the king.

1970. A new decade.

No more Double Six. No more Freddie.

No more Lennie.

["Blockbuster" by The Sweet playing]

Bye-bye, Maxie.

-[screams] -[window smashes]

[violent thud]

Fucking monster.

Ouch.

["Blockbuster" continues playing]

[spectators cheering]

["Blockbuster" continues playing]

[Gangster 55] 1972.

Nothing can touch us. We're moving, raking it in.

Way out of Freddie's league.

Sort of thing he'd never have dreamed of.

I'm gonna fucking knock you out!

[incoherent shouting]

[Gangster 55] First of January 1973.

Grand opening, the casino. Black tie.

Freddie always said gambling was for mugs.

It is. Took two mil in the first year!

Never understood that thing Freddie had for the horses

'til I bought one.

Brown Bomber.

Earnt me a packet.

Then disaster: It won!

["Blockbuster" fades out]

[Gangster 55] '76.

Tommy's wife dies,

so he retires.

Lost his bottle since Freddie got all banged up.

'77…

…'78, '79, '80, '81.

I've got 300 people working for me.

Top that, Mr. Mays.

'82 to '86. Cocaine.

Fucking fortunes.

Ah, you fuckin' wanker!

Don't you fucking knock, hey? Look at this here, hey?

[Gangster 55] '87, '88. Billy offends me.

The one good thing I learnt from Freddie:

Keep your own house in order.

'93. Maggie's children suffer the consequences of the '80s.

Don't we all? Do we fuck!

Business is as good as ever!

Poor little merchant bankers.

Still got enough for a little toot, though.

[shouting in background]

[heavy blows land]

[Gangster 55] '94. Not such a good year.

Mad John murders his wife in domestic. Nothing I could do about it.

As it happens, in the supermarket.

Fucking sad way to go down.

Taken out of the fuckin' place like a poxy junkie shoplifter.

Last of Freddie's boys.

End of an era.

'95, '96, '97, '98, '99…

'99.

[rock music playing]

Freddie Mays is back.

Lock up your daughters.

[Gangster 55] Chinatown.

[Gangster 55] Well, Freddie. All those years.

How's it been, son?

Tough? Was it tough?

Tough on you? Hard to bear?

Still, for my part, just like to say, Freddie, congratulations.

You're out, fit and well, and I'm happy.

Ah, fuck off. Look at me now, Freddie.

You want a job? Me and you, Freddie?

Just like the old days.

[gentle Asian music plays]

[indistinct remark]

Hello, Eddie.

Hello.

It's been a while, eh, Eddie?

We really should catch up.

Be nice catching up. Let's catch up.

Old mom well?

Good, great. Magic.

Ah.

What the fuck is going on with Freddie Mays?

When'd he get out?

Wednesday.

Do you mind if I get back to work?

No, no. Let's go somewhere more private.

I don't like it.

Nobody told me he was getting out.

You wouldn't know about the wedding, then?

Wedding? What fucking wedding?

Freddie's wedding.

Everyone'll be there.

He's well, too, from what I hear.

He's got a BA.

Bachelor of Arts.

Well, who's he marrying, anyway? Somebody he met in the nick?

Karen. You remember? Singer, lovely face.

Throat cut. Nearly died.

Eddie.

You ever kill somebody, Eddie?

How d'you mean?

Well, you know, like, kill 'em.

What, like, dead?

Yeah, dead.

I'd have to say no.

Why not?

Well, I don't want to.

I think you could if it was somebody you really hated, you know.

What, like, and he's done something, like, to me and my family?

Yeah, that.

Look, I wanna ask you a question.

No ifs or buts. I want a straight answer.

Who, if you had to choose…

would you sooner kill?

Me or Freddie Mays?

-Truth? -Yeah, truth.

You.

Sorry.

Can I ask you a question?

Yeah, yeah. Fire away.

Why haven't you killed me?

Who says I'm not going to?

[intriguing music playing]

[crowd chattering]

Ohh!

[gentle ballad playing]

♪ …beg on bended knees ♪

♪ Oh, please ♪

♪ Have mercy on me ♪

♪ You know I love you ♪

Karen?

[gruff chuckle] Karen.

Imagine bumping into you after all this time.

-Must be, what, 25, 30 years. -You know exactly how long it's been.

I thought maybe you were dead.

[laughs]

Wow. Healed up nice--

I know why you're here. You just stay away from Freddie.

He don't wanna see you, he don't wanna hear from you.

He don't wanna smell you and your cheap fucking aftershave.

Me and Freddie have waited too long for some evil ponce to fuck things up.

That's not very ladylike, is it?

You're a fucking freak.

You stay away.

I told you I'd kill for Freddie.

Oh, yeah, you told me a lot of things.

"You're not a bad-looking bloke. Why don't you find yourself a nice girl?"

What makes you think that you're so special?

You know, I wouldn't mind a wife, someone to love.

I deserve some love.

I want a Valentine's card.

I don't care if she is a slag.

I'll look after her all right.

Spoil her.

Buy her stuff.

Maybe I'd like to settle down sometime, eh?

But nobody think about that, do they?

I mean, nobody ever thinks about me! Well, fuck you!

You tell Freddie I want to see him, or there'll be consequences.

Serious fucking consequences.

Get out my fucking way, you cunt!

[Gangster 55] So, Freddie.

Heard you was getting hitched.

Getting yourself a ball and chain.

No, no. I didn't get no invitation. Nah, not to worry.

I couldn't have gone anyway. Business.

Still, hope it all goes well.

And for my part, Freddie, I'd just like to say congratulations.

You're out.

Fit and well.

And, well, uh…

here's to you.

[tense music playing]

[Gangster 55] Hmm.

Like what you've done with the place.

Sit down, Freddie.

[soft groan]

Been a long time.

Yeah.

Like a cup of tea?

Yeah, that'd be nice.

[sighs]

[objects clattering]

So, Freddie. How you doing?

All right.

-Yeah? -Yeah.

-Yeah? -Yeah.

Look… what do you want?

I hear you're getting married.

At some point, yeah.

A little something.

Go on, take it.

Go on, take it.

It's for you. Take it.

Freddie, I want you to take it.

I want you to take the money. I took your money, you take my money.

It's for you.

[intense music builds to climax]

Don't take it.

What do you want?

Oh, the flat. Is that it? You wanna move in?

You and Karen. Eh?

Cozy Karen.

Well, take it. I'm out of here.

Redecorate.

[glass frames smashing]

Why not, eh? New carpet, lick of paint.

Lovely. Patter of tiny feet.

Well, you're probably past it. Can't get it up.

And she's no spring chicken.

Probably come out all twisted and mental.

Baby Freddie, spastic.

Well, she's barren, probably. All dried up.

But you could always adopt.

What do you want?

The shoes, is it?

The handmade fucking shoes.

Here.

They're yours.

Here, take 'em, they're yours.

Tie pin. Oh, you like the tie pin?

Oh, fuck me, it's even got your initials on it.

Take it, have it. Here, it's yours, have it!

You're mad.

No, it's you.

You drive me fucking nuts, you do.

I don't want your flat.

I don't want your shoes, and I don't want your fucking tie pin.

That Freddie's dead.

What… what is it with you? Where you coming from?

Explain it to me, 'cause I'd like to know. Really, I would. I wanna know.

What have you got that I haven't got?

I done better than you. I'm the better man.

It wasn't me who spent fuck knows how long inside.

Fucking professor.

What?

You think I wouldn't kill you? Do you think that, do you?

Just 'cause it's you. Is that what you think, is it?

Well, I can kill somebody. It's easy.

It's easy to kill somebody. It's nothing.

I avenged you.

[screams]

I didn't wanna kill Lennie Taylor.

I did not wanna kill Lennie Taylor.

I didn't enjoy it.

Had to be done. Somebody had to do it.

Yeah.

Karen has spent the past 30 years telling me the whole thing stank of you.

That bitch.

Take it.

Take it.

Pick it up.

There it is. Pick it up.

Shoot me.

Shoot me! Shoot me, you cunt!

Who do you think you are?

Pathetic.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah, I was.

I was vain. I was a prat.

"Handsome Freddie Mays, Butcher of Mayfair."

What a load of old cobblers.

Who'd want to be Freddie Mays?

Fuck off.

You're a nutter.

Oh, yeah, well, I ain't going away, so you may as well kill me.

Come on, kill me! Come on!

For old times' sake. Down memory lane and all that.

[gunshot]

I was there.

[wheezy chuckle]

[mockingly] "Get your hands off her!

Karen!

Maxie, please, no. Not the girl. Not the girl. No!"

Sound familiar?

Huh?

You, crawling around in your own blood.

Pathetic.

Hilarious.

Maxie's got his knife out.

[Karen screams] No!

Come on, Freddie, come on.

Maxie with his blade, digging at her flesh.

Ripping that lovely throat.

Karen!

And you going, "Shoot me, shoot me,"

like a sick cow.

[gunshot]

Come on, Freddie, come on.

Come on, Freddie, two more yards.

What? What's that she's saying?

What was that?

[Gangster 55 mimics Karen] I love you.

I love you. I love you.

[laughs]

Does she still love you?

With your pruney bollocks and your old bird's hair.

[laughs]

Eh? Handsome Freddie Mays.

[laughs]

How could she still love you, seein' what you are?

I mean, what are you? A cunt? What are you? Milk and tea?

[mocking laughter]

Come on, Romeo.

Give her a kiss, eh. Work the old magic.

Come on, Freddie.

Come on, my son.

Shoot me.

Shoot me.

Kill me!

Shoot me!

No.

No.

[soft chuckle]

I'm just an old man in a crap suit.

I like it that way.

Bitch.

[glass smashing]

[Gangster 55] One day I'll catch up with you.

You want a war?

I'll give you a fucking war, one arm tied behind me back.

I'll shoot you. Blow you to kingdom come.

They'll need a dustpan and brush to scrape you off the walls.

Make mincemeat out of you. Pie and mash.

Puddles of blood.

I'll leave you lying there.

The rotten lot of you.

Calling me a cunt.

[Young Gangster] Calling me a cunt. Calling me a cunt.

You cunt!

I'll fucking kick you.

I'll kick fuck out of you. I'll kick you to fuck, you…

Fuck you!

[Gangster 55] Rip your face off.

I'll fucking…

I'll fucking…

burn you.

[relaxing string music playing]

[Gangster 55] Freddie Mays.

Freddie Mays.

I don't need you, Freddie.

Who am I?

I'm Superman!

King fucking Kong!

I can pick you up and throw you a million miles.

I'm number one.

Number fucking one.

I'm number one.

Number fucking one.

Number one. Number one. Number one.

[screams]

Number one. Number one. Number one.

One, one, one, one.

Number fucking one!

I'm number one.

Fuck you!

[gunshot]

[man screaming] Oh, God!

Number one.

["The Good Life" by Neil Hannon playing]