Original subtitles

(Man 1 on police radio) 'We've got a domestic violence report on 23rd Street

'between Sixth and Seventh, Chelsea Hotel.

'Domestic violence at Chelsea Hotel.'

(Man 2) 'We got a 911 report coming in. Nearest unit, please respond.

'DV report domestic violence, Chelsea Hotel,

'Seventh and 23rd Street.'

(Woman) '805 Zebra, 153-473...'

(Hum of city traffic)

(Man) Who called 911?

Did you call 911?

Did you call 911?

Get Sal in here. Keep the fucking press back, will ya?

- (Woman sobs) No! - (Cop) Let's go, kid.

(Woman sobbing) She was really nice. He didn't do this. He didn't do this.

She was nice! She was nice!

You know the type! She's a camp follower. She was a camp follower.

She would go to bed with anyone, as long as they were part of a group.

Officer, please, we tried to check out...

Sid and Nancy, they were heroin addicts?

- No, man. They didn't do any drugs. - We don't allow junkies in here.

Yeah, man. Listen, come here.

I'm on my way downtown. You got a couple of bucks?

- I don't have any money. - Come on, man!

- Hey, Sid! - That's Sid!

(Clamour of voices)

(Paparazzo 1) Give me a wave!

(Paparazzo 2) C'mon! Give us a big smile!

- Why did you do it, kid? - The register said you were married.

Who was the chick, your groupie?

No!

Goddamnit! He bit my hand!

That fucker bit my goddamn hand!

- Motherfucker! - Get out!

What the hell you people think this is, a fucking Mets game? Get out!

- Fine. - You made him mad, kid. You in trouble.

- I'll see you later, punk! - Big trouble!

(Sirens wail in distance)

Why so tense, kid?

Look, we just want to know who the girl was.

Where did you meet her?

Sid?

Sid?

I met her at Linda's.

Linda?

Who's Linda?

- (Man outside) Linda! - (Man 2) Linda! Lindy!

Lindy!

(Dog barking)

Go on!

(Barking)

- Go on, Sidney. Spray the beast. - (Dog whines)

No! Come on!

- It's a really good dog. - Boring!

- Linda! - Boring.

Linda!

- Linda! - Linda!

- Piss off, dog meat! - Linda!

(Both) Linda!

- Lin! - (Whistles)

Oi, Linda!

Linda!

(Outside) Linda! Linda!

- Wake up, you silly old cow! - Lindy!

(Sid) Linda!

It's a real waste to smoke that shit. Don't you have any needles?

(Smash)

Great!

I wonder who that is.

Oi!

Naughty boys!

- ♪ We're vain cunts ♪ - We don't fucking care.

No, no fucking. Not, "We don't fucking care."

- How many times do I have to tell you? - I don't care.

Hey, Linda! Guess what!

- (Laughing) What? You two got married? - No. I'm the bass player.

In the Osmonds!

(Linda) What happened to the other lad? (John) He washed his feet too much.

Sidney never washes his feet.

- What's for tea? - Baked beans or champagne.

Wonderful.

(Laughter)

(Linda) Nancy, this is Sid and John.

- And they are... - The Sex Pistols.

(Slurred) I love the Sex Pistols.

- I have all your albums back in New York. - Oh, yeah? Where's that, then?

- Hi, Johnny. - I'm Sid. He's John.

(♪ ALTHIA AND DONNA: "Uptown Top Ranking")

So, playing a gig tonight?

"Playing a gig tonight?" Yeah, we're playing a gig tonight. So what?

So I can come and check you out and see if you're as shit as people say.

(Linda laughs)

Fucking great, we are. The Sex Pistols.

Do yourself a favour.

Boring, Sidney.

Boring, boring!

Boring, boring, boring!

- (As Dalek) Exterminate! - Boring, boring, boring!

(Both) Exterminate! Exterminate!

Exterminate! Exterminate!

(Man) 'Lovely girls! Ten different girls!'

All nude, all the time.

Step inside and have the time of your life.

Come on, sir. Take your clothes off and have your dinkle tinkled.

Here we go!

Evening, boys. Would you like to step inside?

These bints, they ain't foreign, is they?

No, of course not, sir. Every one an English rose!

- They grow on you! - Ugh! Fucker!

The doorway to the seedy underbelly of London! Step right up.

Is it fucking worth it?

Yes, it is!

(♪ X-RAY SPEX: "Oh Bondage Up Yours")

- Scumbags! Do you know them? - No. They're all right.

♪ Oh, bondage, up yours

♪ Oh, bondage, no more

♪ Oh, bondage, up yours

♪ Oh, bondage, no more

♪ Chain store, chain smoke I consume you all

♪ Chain gang, chain mail I don't care at all

♪ Oh, bondage, up yours... ♪

- Well out of order, isn't he? - Thank you for telling me!

Hey, John, you see me nut that hippy? Good, eh?

Oi! Get up there and fulfil our contractual obligations, all right?

Good god, what's this?

- A bass guitar. - Here, Sid. There's Dick Dent!

Who's Dick Dent?

Just some wanky journalist that don't appreciate the Sex Pistols.

(John) Go get him, Sidney! Go!

(Crowd cheer)

Hey, Sidney! Come on, when you're ready.

All right.

One, two. One, two, three, four.

(♪ Intro to "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone")

(Crowd cheers)

♪ I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone

♪ I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone... ♪

(Sid) It don't fucking work!

♪ You're trying to make your mark in society

♪ You're using all the tricks that you used on me... ♪

(Sid) Fuck it!

♪ The clothes you're wearing cause public scenes

- ♪ I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone - (Sid) Fat bastards!

♪ I-I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone

♪ I-I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone

♪ I-I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping stone

♪ Not your stepping stone ♪

(Dog barks in the distance)

(Groans)

(Sid) You know, I was so... I was so bored once...

...that I fucked a dog.

(John) Oh, Sidney. How low can you get?

(Sid) A corgi.

(John, yawning) One of the Queen's?

- Is it in yet? - No. Well, maybe.

(Belch)

(Fart)

(Belch)

(Fart)

(Laughing)

Evil!

(Belch)

- Shut up, you...! - Shut up!

- Fuck off! - Fuck you!

- Nearly took me fucking eye out! - Queer!

(Both laugh)

I'm starving.

I'm so hungry.

I want a pizza.

- You smell like a fucking pizza! - Bollocks.

- Nancy. - Fucking Jesus Christ!

You're not getting anything.

- What? - You heard.

Fucking Americans! That's all you ever think about, sex.

None of us fuck, see? Sex is ugly.

None of your free hippy love shit here.

- You are insane! - Slurping!

- Give me the blanket! - Fuck off!

(Man) Ooh, Olive, you're so good.

Linda?

(Nancy) Shit! (Brenda) Linda!

(Sid groans) How vile.

Sex is boring, ugly, hippy shit.

You're fucking insane, too!

Fucking insane!

(♪ BLACK SABBATH: "Paranoid")

- Get the darts, Paul. - Show me your hands.

Keep them where I can see 'em. I'm watching you, you bastards.

'Ere, Paul!

Fuck off! Fuck off!

Steady on, boys.

Bastards! It's not funny!

You could stick me in the eye, put it in me brain. I couldn't play the drums, then.

- You can't play the fucking drums anyway! - Bollocks!

Speaking of cunts who can't play...

- Hello, girls. Where'd you get your perms? - Rod Stewart lookalikes!

- Fucking tit! - Any chance of lending your mascara?

I don't mean to be mundane or anything, but I either need the drugs or the money.

I'm broke. I need it. It's 50 quid.

- Fuck you! - (Laughter)

Get the fuck out!

Mr Rotten! I'm soaking.

Four more pints, Sid.

- What do you think of Northern Ireland? - It's all right where it is.

(Belch)

(Crying)

What's the matter? Are you all right?

No!

Well, I mean, do I look all right?

The fucker in there ripped me off for 50 quid.

Fucking scumbag!

- What? He stole it from your purse? - Yeah, almost.

I mean, I gave it to him the first night I was here.

Fuck! It's embarrassing!

Never trust a junkie.

- They're junkies, are they? - Isn't everyone?

- You think you can get me some? - Maybe.

- That looks like it hurts. - It does!

So does this.

- You really want some? - Yeah.

All right. Give me all your money.

- You OK? - Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm great.

I'll be back in an hour.

See you here.

In the pub!

(Thunderclap)

- Sid, you coming for a pint? - Eh?

- Oi, you fucking wally. Shut the door. - Fuck off, tosser!

- (Sid) No, I'm waiting for this bird. - Fuck, man. What's her name?

- Nancy. - Nancy?

You mean that American bird, the junkie?

She ain't a junkie!

That friend of Lin's? Nancy, she's a junkie.

- Well, anyway, I'm waiting for her. - Come on. I'm buying.

- Fuck off, tosser! - What's the matter?

- Fuck off! - I always buy my round, don't I?

That's one thing you can't say about me is I'm tight.

(Thunder rumbles)

(Laughs)

Fucking girl!

I want me money back, right?

- I was thinking of starting up this club. - Yeah? What you going to call it?

Wally's... Gaff.

That's really good. Must have taken you ages to think that up!

It's got a certain ring of street cred about it.

(Sid) "Oh, let's all go to Wally's Gaff and 'ave a lager!"

£7.49.

- Water? - 12.50.

Where you going to get the money for this?

- Get a mortgage. - (Horn honks)

Rod Stewart at two o'clock!

(Both) Da-da-da-da!

Oi! You wankers!

Wanker!

(♪ Rock music plays in car)

Go through that door and climb to the top of the stairs.

Don't speak to anyone. Ask for Ashraf - and don't let her keep you waiting!

Why do I have to go? I've got a broken heel.

And don't get burned.

I hate... to wait.

(Siren approaching)

- (Horn honks) - Get me outta here!

- What about that chick's gear? - Jettison.

All right, Rod?

(Sid laughs)

- What do you think they are? - They're your mum's!

- Nice. - What are these for?

- You fuckers! My clothes! - Hey, you. Where's my money?

Oh, shit. Goddamn!

- Help me. - I gave you some money the other day.

What about my money? I'm talking to you.

Shut up and help me!

- I ought to smash your face in! - You took all my fucking stuff apart!

Listen! What about my drugs?

Here.

Sorry about the mess.

It's these skinheads, see? We've seen them off, though.

(Nancy) You can't run drugs on the sidewalk, Johnny.

- What are you, an idiot? - Sid.

Do you want to use my gaff?

- What's a gaff? - Me house.

Me apartment.

He's a club owner.

(Sid) Hey, where's the fish and chips? (Wally) What fish and chips?

(Sid) The fish and chips you promised to buy us.

(Nancy) Why don't we just go in?

We will, as soon as he lets us in.

Then we do the drugs and he goes and gets the fish and chips.

- But I want to do some of the drugs. - You will. We'll save you some.

Cheers. This is where the bouncers are going to stand.

(Strums a riff)

Wally.

Like, I was in CBGB's at this audition, right?

So this guy says, "Can you sing like Debbie Harry?"

It's a bad deal looking like an established star, let me tell you that.

I mean, I like Debbie. We're really good friends, actually.

- You've done this before, right? - Oh, yeah, yeah.

Good veins.

(Train rumbles past)

(Sid retching)

Where you going?

You know.

No. What?

What?

Don't you want me to?

No.

Here.

(♪ Electric guitar)

Wally!

We don't fucking care!

No. No "fucking". It's just, "We don't care."

Ow! Be careful.

- Pizza time! - Oh, pizza! My favourite food!

What, you waiting for a playback? How many tracks have you laid?

None. We ain't done no songs, either.

- Why not? - Sid's still learning it.

- Sid! What are you doing? - I'm eating.

No. You can't have any pizza till you finish at least one song.

- Fuck off! - No, I'm serious.

What are you doing here?

You're in a studio. These places cost like 50 grand a minute!

You could be really shining out! But what? You're just wonking off!

- (John) Wanking! - What happened to you?

- Try and kiss your mother? - None of your business.

- John got beaten up by fascists. - Five minutes till last orders.

- I'm gonna get pissed. - Fuck off.

Want some pizza, Johnny?

(Imitate accent) Want some pizza, Johnny?

He doesn't like to be called Johnny. He likes to be called John.

(Sid) See ya, Johnny!

Fucking cabbies, that's what we should be. Make 200 quid a night being a cabby.

Why don't you fuck off and be one, then?

- Cos it takes 18 months to learn. - You need a driving licence, too.

And a set of golf clubs!

See ya!

(♪ THE DYNAMITERS: "Toe Kisser")

I don't think Johnny likes me.

He doesn't like anyone.

He's a fool.

You like me, don't you?

Huh?

Yeah?

Oh, yeah.

(Sid laughs)

(Nancy) Kiss my toes.

Do you want me to?

Yeah.

(♪ Music blares)

♪ God save the Queen

♪ The fascist regime

♪ They made you a moron... ♪

Pizza time!

Hey, John, I'm gonna have a tattoo on my head.

- "Brain damage!" - Get hold of that!

Don't be such a fucking pervert!

Why can't he puke over the side? That's why we have photographers.

We need an explosion. Where are you going, Sidney?

Oh, Malkie-walkie. Give us some money.

Sidney, as a Sex Pistol, all your human needs are seen to -

food, beer, designer wardrobe.

- Why do you need money? - I don't know.

- Little things around the house. - What sort of little things?

- What are those bruises on your arms? - I fell over!

- Leave him alone. - Yes, leave me alone.

- This man is violent! - That's my boy.

That's your camera there, number two. I give you completely free rein.

You dirty fucking bastard. You dirty fucker.

Oh, what a fucking rotter.

What a naughty, naughty boy.

- Is this your girlfriend, Sid? - What one?

- We both are! - You gonna give us any money for this?

Fucking Dylan!

Brenda, think of a name for my baby.

Bastard.

Good, huh?

Hey, that's really cool!

- Where's the key? - What key?

(Laughs)

Your mum says you're a nice boy. Any comment?

Oh, Nancy! Not my hair! Bloody hell!

♪ I am an anti-Christ

♪ I am an anarchist

♪ Don't know what I want, but I know how to get it

♪ I wanna destroy passers-by

♪ Cos I

♪ Wanna be

♪ Anarchy

♪ No dogsbody

♪ Anarchy for the UK

♪ It's coming some time, maybe

♪ I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line

♪ Your future dream has sure been... ♪

I didn't know pigs could swim!

(Passengers shout and jeer)

(All shout out)

(Party-goers sing) ♪ Fuck off, you cunts, fuck off, you cunts

(Shouts and screams)

(♪ PRAY FOR RAIN: "Off The Boat")

(♪ Music over dialogue)

(Nancy) Mum? Guess what.

We got married. Me and Sid.

Sid Vicious! You remember, from the Sex Pistols.

(Sid) Hello, Mum! Hello! (Nancy) What?

No. You'll love him, too.

Yeah.

So...

So, uh... Anyway.

Why don't you send us a wedding present for our honeymoon?

No.

We don't need any sheets.

Why don't you send us some money?

Look, it's early there, right?

So you could go to American Express right now before it closes and send us $200.

Then Sid could pick it up here tomorrow, like, first thing when they open.

'Nancy, listen to me. I'm not sending money.'

Why not?

I am so married!

(Shouts) I am!

What do you mean?

He loves me more than you do!

Yes, I am!

No! Shut up! Listen to me!

If you don't send us the money right now, we're both gonna fucking die!

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Fuck you!

I fucking hate you!

I fucking hate her!

Fucking! Motherfucking!

They wouldn't send us any money. They said we'd spend it on drugs!

Well, we would.

(♪ Music begins)

♪ You better understand I'm in love with myself

♪ Myself

♪ My beautiful self

♪ And no feelings

♪ And no feelings

♪ And no feelings for anybody else

♪ Hello and goodbye in a runaround Sue

♪ You follow me around like a pretty pot of glue

♪ I kick you in the head you got nothing to say

♪ Get outta my way cos I got to get away

♪ You never realise I take the piss out of you... ♪

I'm bored! Could be down the Old Red Lion tonight, pulling.

Punks don't go out pulling. They go to fucking boring gigs like this.

- That's what it's all about. - I ain't gonna be a punk no more.

What you gonna be then, Clive, a skinhead?

I'm gonna be a rude boy, like my dad.

♪ There ain't no moonlight after midnight

♪ I see you silly people out looking for delight

♪ Well, I'm so happy I'm feeling so fine

♪ I'm watching all the rubbish You're wasting my time

♪ I look around your house and you got nothing to steal

♪ I kick you in the brains when you go down to kneel

♪ And pray... ♪

Phoebe,

how would you like to supervise our Sidney for a month or two?

- No way. - You'd be a good influence on the boy.

- Why not? - Hepatitis, loony girlfriend, drugs.

- Boys will be boys. - It's time he went back to his mum's.

♪ Daddy's gone away, he'll be back another day

♪ See his picture hanging on your wall ♪

(Cheers and whistles)

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck it!

- What? What's the matter? - Fuck it!

I can't find it! My Action Man!

- You mean GI Joe. - I had it in me hand five minutes ago.

I've had it since I was a kid. It's rare and valuable. I want to kill!

Wait! Flying in! Telly Savalas!

Aaargh!

Oh, no! It's drowning!

(American accent) I tried to save him, but it was too late.

(Car pulls up, backfires)

I used to have a special hair Barbie.

- You mean Cindy, Nancy. - No, I mean Barbie, Sidney.

I'll never look like Barbie.

Barbie doesn't have bruises. Sid, look at this. I look disgusting!

Look, Nancy. Why don't you do these dishes? Please, eh?

What?

- What did you say to me? - Fuck it, I'll do 'em meself.

Good.

What's a matter, Sid? You do a little speed or something?

(Crockery rattles) I'll do them with me cock!

I was bored! I'm bored now! Where's the bloody soap?

Up your ass!

(Blows raspberry)

(Crash) I'd better cover this up.

Shitting Christ!

(Hoover starts up)

Look, me mum's going to be home soon. Stop mucking about!

- Oh, what's the difference? - It's the least I can do!

What with her risking her life every day as a motorcycle messenger.

God, if you were earning half what you're worth, you could buy her a fucking Harley!

Why don't you shut your fucking mouth?

If it weren't for me mum's kindness, we'd be on the fucking streets!

And if it weren't for your own stupidity,

we'd be living in our own apartment in Paris, France.

- Get off the fucking bed! - No!

Look at this shit. Can you believe this?

Look, stop it now. You've had your fun. Take that off. It's my mummy's.

- It'll tear. - I thought it was yours!

- Fuck you! - Piss off when the going gets tough.

Insult me only fucking mother!

- All right, Mum? - You love her more than me.

- Yeah, I fucking do and all! - You fucking mother's boy, you asshole!

(Screams)

- (Sid laughs) - Sid! Sid! Look at me!

I look like fucking Stevie Nicks in hippy clothes!

- You look nice. - No, I don't!

Yuck!

No! Help me!

(Nancy screams)

(♪ Piano plays "Moonlight Sonata")

(Linda) Hello, John. What are you doing up so early in the afternoon?

I've come to see my best mate.

- He's in his boudoir. - Is he out of it?

'Ere, Linda.

You know you've got a man hanging from your ceiling?

Don't mind him. He's one of my customers, Edward.

Just abuse him now and again and he'll be as good as gold.

Don't hurt me, for God's sake. Don't hurt me.

I'll do anything you want, but I implore you not to hurt me, please!

(John) Sidney! Wakey, wakey!

Sid.

Wake up, dear.

Sidney, wake up.

- Fuck off, John. - I'm sorry I kicked you, Sidney.

It was an accident.

(Nancy groans) Leave us alone.

Look, I've got two tickets for Rock Head at the Rainbow.

It'll do you good to go and see him. I hear he's cleaned up his act.

Don't do any drugs or drink - hardly.

And he's all the better for it.

I know Rock Head.

I bet you do.

Rock Head's got the best drugs.

Let's go see Rock Head.

John, mate. Make us a cup of tea.

(Sid laughs)

Your face!

I don't even want to be here.

(Toy guns crack)

(Sid) Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo!

- Yes, madam? - The Sex Pistols for Mr Head.

Ooh, what a fucking palace!

- I wish I lived here. - Mr Head's room, please.

(Nancy) Rock!

Rock, you big head!

Hi! Uh...

- Peggy, ain't it? - Nancy.

This is Sid Vicious and Johnny. They're from the Sex Pistols.

- Impress 'em with your drugs. - (Crash)

Drugs? Do we have any drugs, boys?

Rock Head does not do drugs.

Right.

(Nancy) Don't be so fucking stingy.

Pull out the drawer! We'll have a Bible reading.

(Sid) Give me £5.

Uh, look. You want some water?

I got some with bubbles in it.

How about some room service, Mr Head? Fuck off.

Jennifer, ring for the cart.

(Nancy) Fuck him, Sidney. His drugs were garbage anyway.

They were not!

- Lend us £5. - Hello, room service?

So, appears we're related.

- (Belch) Eh? - The press call me the big daddy of punk.

Your role model.

Lovely couple.

(John) Fuck you, Rock Head.

What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?

- I'd rather fucking puke! - (Belch)

(Crash)

For Christ's sake, Malcolm, I know we're not great shakes,

but the bass player has to keep the beat.

We turn his amp off half the time.

He'll be playing one thing, we'll be playing a fucking nother.

(Malcolm, chuckling) Lads, I sympathise,

but Sidney's more than a mere bass player.

He's a fabulous disaster!

- He's a symbol, a metaphor. - (Phone rings)

He embodies the dementia of a nihilistic generation.

- He's a fucking star! - He's a fucking headcase!

- (Phone ringing) - Shut up.

(Malcolm) Phoebe! (John) You don't half talk some shit.

(Malcolm) Half my charm, sugar.

Yeah?

- (Malcolm) Sidney's not the problem... - It's Spunkin'.

She wants you to book them a suite at... Hang on.

- Where? - (Paul) I want a suite as well.

Rock Head's hotel?

They can't stay here much longer.

The police were around yesterday.

Arrests were made.

Substances confiscated.

- They've been hanging out of the window! - What rubbish.

This is a respectable hotel, madam. Lily Langtry stayed here.

(♪ Music blares)

Phoebe! Hi!

(Laughs)

Sid, we've got company!

Sid, cut me down. Let me up!

Aagh!

Sid!

Nancy!

Sid!

(Toy gun cracks)

Ugh!

(Nancy) Stay where you are! (Sid) Stay where you are! I'm loaded!

- Are you all right, Nancy? - Oh, yeah.

- We were just having fun. - It's Lurch.

You want a cup of tea? Get us a cup of tea!

- (Sid) Four sugars, you cunt! - We have no roof service.

(Fire guns)

- You're dead. - (Phoebe) We haven't got time for tea.

He's got to practise. He's got a tour coming up.

- Oh. - No, I don't want to go.

I wanna stay here and have a really good screw and go byebyes.

(Malcolm) Four words - no women on the tour.

(Phoebe) That's five words.

(Nancy) No way, Malcolm. No fucking way.

Yeah, right. There's no way.

(Phoebe) It's purely financial. We can't afford an... entourage.

I'm not an entourage.

Look, I know how important your "relationship" is.

If you two want to stay together, we'll just find another bass player.

Sid Vicious is the Sex Pistols.

(Steve) Bollocks.

Oh, yeah. That's right. You can't leave me behind.

Paul wouldn't stand for it. We're the rhythm section.

Paul?

It's only a month. You can live that long without each other, can't you?

(Laughing) And if you do survive,

I have been talking to the record company.

They're going to buy you a little house.

How lovely for you!

- You think I'm an asshole, don't you? - Yes, I do.

Do you really think you can buy Sid off of me?

Fuck you!

Take him.

I only want what's best for Sidney.

I don't want to go on your fucking tour, anyhow!

I got my own stuff to do.

Paul?

(Belch)

Paul?

(Clock chimes)

(Sid groans)

Sid.

What you doing?

- Sid? - (Breathless) What?

Stay awake.

These are our last two hours together.

Stay awake.

What for?

So I can talk to you.

So we can fuck some more.

- So we can be together. - (Sighs)

Yeah, we are together. Come on, give me a break, eh?

Oh.

You give me a break.

I'm the one that's being left behind.

Kiss my toes.

Fuck off!

Fuck you!

Fuck this!

Fuck this! Jesus!

- Sid, what are you doing? - Christ!

What are you doing?

- Sid, come back. - I'm going to the airport.

- I'm going to be early for once. - Sid, stop this.

- I'm sorry. - Fucking shit!

Come back. What are you doing?

Sid! Sid, don't be a jerk!

(Yells) Fuck it, Sid. Don't leave!

Sid! What about the farewell drugs?

(Door slams)

Sid!

(Sobs gently)

(♪ PRAY FOR RAIN: "Chinese Choppers")

Oi! How d'you spell "holiday"?

S-H-I-T.

"Dear Mum, 'aving a lovely..."

(♪ Guitar chord)

You cunt!

♪ I don't want a holiday in the sun

♪ I don't wanna go to the new Belsen

♪ I wanna see some history

♪ Cos now I got a reasonable economy

♪ Oh, now I got a reason, now I got a reason

♪ Now I got a reason and I'm still waiting

♪ Now I got a reason, now I got a reason

♪ I'm still waiting... ♪

(Man) Oh, it's a great tour, John. A great tour, a great country.

(John) It's lovely. It's a pity it's America.

(Man) I was a bit of a songster myself. Bet you didn't know that, did you?

- No, I didn't. - I've written one which you might like.

It has a punky sort of feel, you know what I mean?

(Upbeat) ♪ I wanna job, I wanna job I wanna good job

♪ I wanna job, I wanna job that pays

♪ I wanna job, I wanna job I wanna real job

♪ One that satisfies my artistic needs ♪

- That's just the chorus. - What's it called?

- It's called "I Wanna Job". - Oh, lovely.

- 'Ere, Sid. - ♪ I wanna job, I wanna job

♪ I wanna good job, I wanna job, I wanna job that pays

- ♪ I wanna job, I wanna job - ♪ I want a good job

♪ One that satisfies my artistic needs ♪

- You like it? - It's lovely.

- You like it, Sid? - Stupid cunt!

Sid?

(♪ Intro to "Pretty Vacant")

Drinks for all my Texan friends.

Don't you have any imported beers?

♪ I have no reason, it's all too much

♪ You'll always find us

♪ Out to lunch

♪ Oh, we're so... ♪

Get off! Get out of it, you arsehole!

You fucking bastard!

I'll fucking kill you!

- You fucking cunt! - ♪ We're vacant

♪ Don't ask us to attend cos we're not all there

♪ I don't pretend cos I don't care ♪

Fuck off!

Aagh!

(Man) Hey, Sid.

- He sure can't fight for shit. - He likes it.

You motherfucker!

(Sid coughs and splutters)

Are you all right?

(Gunshot)

(Phone ringing)

You've been a naughty, naughty newsreader.

- Now you're going to have to pay. - (Client) Ow!

'Hello, Nancy? It's Sid.'

- Sid. - (Client) Ow!

- Where are you? - 'I'm in America!'

Oh, I can't believe you called.

I thought you'd hate me forever. I've really been going crazy for you.

I miss you so much.

- 'I've missed you, too.' - Yeah?

- Well, how's America? - 'It's fucking boring!

- 'I'm sorry about the fight, babe.' - Me too.

I never want to fight with you again.

- I love you. - 'I love you, too.'

- Yeah? - (Client) Ow!

Did you buy me any presents yet?

- 'Yeah, I bought you loads.' - Oh, yeah? What?

'I bought you a six-pack and a bra in the same shop!

'Listen, I wish you were here.'

I wish I was there, too. I really do.

- I love you. - 'I love you, too.'

- (Linda) Nancy. - 'I love ya!'

I gotta go. I can't really talk right now. Linda's got a customer.

- 'Listen...' - Nancy?

- Sid, I gotta go. I'm working. - Nancy!

- 'I wish we could have a bunk-up.' - I wish we could, too.

- I'm here and you're there. - Nancy!

- 'I know, but I want it off with ya.' - Sidney, what am I supposed to do?

- Put it in a box and send it? - Nancy!

- 'Look, get on a plane...' - Just have sex with somebody else.

(Sid) Hello? What?

Fucking hell! Fuck it!

- (Glass smashes) - Fucking poxy place!

(John growls incomprehensible lyrics)

Right, who's going to fuck me, then?

(♪ Country music plays)

(♪ PEARL HARBOUR AND THE PALOMINOS: "Two Bullets")

(Steve) 'Is this Johnny Rotten?' (Sid) 'No, I've only used it twice!'

Yes, yes. Very funny!

The naive wit of imbeciles has always enchanted me.

Why don't you shut up and fucking sing, you twat?

(Paul) You're well out of time, Sid. (Sid) Bollocks, you wanker.

(Steve) Fucking play the song, will ya?

Do you ever get the feeling you're being cheated?

- (Crowd) Boo! Fuck off! - One, two, three, four!

(♪ Intro to "Problems")

♪ Too many problems, oh, why am I here?

♪ I need to be me, cos you're all too clear

♪ Now I can see there's something wrong with you

♪ What do you expect me to do?

♪ Problems

♪ Problems

♪ Problems

♪ The problem is you ♪

(Radio) 'That's what they said on stage. It was terrible. They only did five songs.'

(John coughs)

'..They didn't know musically what they were doing...'

"Welcome Sex Pistols!" Fools.

Are you coming to the party, then?

No, I don't think so. I don't feel too good.

Fucking typical!

- Hey, Sid! - All right?

(Woman) 'Rio is so lovely at this time of year.

'Will you be staying for Carnival?'

(John) 'Tell that fucking woman to shut up.' (Steve) 'Tell her yourself, you twerp!'

(John) 'No, you tell her!'

Shut the fuck up, all of you!

(♪ Piped Muzak plays)

It's about time somebody came out into the open.

- I want to leave the band. - I do as well.

Fine, fine. The sidemen split.

Goodbye.

Why don't you take him with ya? Cunt!

You're not leaving me with Useless, are ya?

- He's your friend, John. - No, thank you, Steve.

- Oh, fuck off. - You fuck off!

(Chuckles)

(Sid) I wish we wasn't breaking up. (Phoebe) It's a bit late for that, innit?

Malcolm's in London. Paul and Steve are flying to Rio. John's in New York.

Yeah, great. What am I gonna do?

Anything you like. You're a free agent now.

I want to go home and see Nancy.

Yeah, well do that.

(Sid) Master of kung-fu. (Phoebe) Look, try and get off heroin, eh?

- Come on, promise. - OK.

- And cut down on the drinking. - All right. All right. I promise.

Cross me heart and hope to die.

Your double brandy, sir.

(♪ Blues plays)

(Radio) 'Pop star Sid Vicious landed unexpectedly today at LaGuardia Airport

'and was rushed to a nearby hospital.

'A spokesman for his record company

'said Vicious was suffering from "nervous exhaustion"!'

(TV blares out)

(♪ Man plays the harmonica)

A hippy! Sid, it's a French hippy!

(Sid) 'Dear Mum. Guess where your Simon's turned up.

'Since you can't guess, I will tell you.'

(Nancy) 'Paris in the spring!

'Sid's recording here and he's brilliant. We go shopping every day.

'Sid bought me lots of underwear and it's all French. You'd love it here!

'Lots of love from Nancy and Sid.'

Sidney, long time, no see! Hugh Kares.

- We met at Trump's, remember? - No, he doesn't.

- Sid. - This is my girlfriend, Nancy.

Hi, Nancy.

So, Sidney. Let's take a lunch. We'll go to La...

Get yourself a chair and sit down. Shut up.

Everything's crazy for me right now but, Sid, I've always got time for you, babe.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Get it out, Sidney. That's all right.

That's all right. Oh, dude!

Get it all out. Come on. Oh, Jeez.

- When you're feeling better, Sid... - He's feeling fine.

You're making him sick. Let's go, Sid.

Fuck 'em! We'll leave them with the cheque.

(Hugh) You're going to make somebody a lot of money, Sidney!

(Horn honks)

(♪ Intro to "My Way")

♪ And now the end is near

♪ And so I face the final curtain

♪ Ha ha ha, you cunt, I'm not a queer

♪ I state my case, of which I'm certain

♪ I've lived a life that's full

♪ And each and every highway

♪ And that, much more than this

♪ I did it my way

(♪ Music speeds up)

♪ Regrets, I've had a few

♪ But then again

♪ Too few to mention

♪ I did

♪ What I had to do

♪ I saw it through

♪ Without exception

♪ I planned

♪ Each charted course

♪ Each careful step along the highway

♪ And more, much more than this

♪ I did it my way

♪ There were times

♪ I'm sure you knew

♪ When there was fuck, fuck, fuck all else to do

♪ But through it all

♪ When there was doubt

♪ I shot it up

♪ Or kicked it down

♪ I faced the wall

♪ And the world

♪ And did it my way

(Crash)

♪ I've laughed and been a snide

♪ I've had my fill, ugh!

♪ My share of losing

♪ And now, the tears subside

♪ I find it all so amusing... ♪

(Gunshot)

(Screams)

(♪ Music continues)

♪ I did it my way! ♪

(♪ Backing track continues)

(♪ Music draws to a close)

(Nancy) It seems like all my friends are dead.

When I'm dead, will you be sad?

I couldn't live without ya.

- You couldn't? - No.

(Sighs) Better go together, then.

How should we do it?

We could...

jump off a building.

Throw ourselves under a subway.

OD.

If I asked you to kill me...

...would you?

Then what would I do?

I couldn't live without ya.

You'd kill yourself too, then.

Yeah.

Yeah.

(Kiss)

(Siren wails in distance)

(Nancy) Shit!

(Voice breaking) I hate this fucking life!

(Sid) No. This is just a rough patch.

Things will be much better when we get to America, I promise.

We're in America!

What?

We've been here a week!

New York is in America, you fuck!

Wow. Get away.

- Are we? - Yeah. What day is it?

Oh, shit. Is it Tuesday or Wednesday?

We're supposed to be at Grandma and Grandpa's on Wednesday!

Where's my fucking book?

Oh, shit!

(Hum of city traffic)

(Horns honk, sirens blare)

No! Look! That's the Rollerama!

Sid, I won a roller-skating trophy there when I was six years old.

- Nancy, don't fib. - Fuck you, Grandma! Oh!

(Nancy shrieks)

(Sid) This place is a fucking paradise!

(Nancy) You guys gonna come see us in New York when I get Sid some gigs?

- Can't he cut his own meat? - They really want him at Max's.

They're too fucking cheap. They only want to pay him three grand.

I mean, he's worth five, at least.

Sid's a really big star in New York.

- We both are. - Yeah!

Yeah, I mean, God! We barely have any time to ourselves.

We don't even have time to get to the methadone clinic.

We've only got enough for two days. Grandma, can I borrow the car?

I want to teach Sid how to drive American.

Mom, how come Nancy gets to borrow Grandma's car and I don't?

- She got fucked up and wrecked it. - Chip!

(Nancy) What do you know, crater-face?

Fucking twerp! Too bad about your brothers, Mary-Jane.

Still taking idiot lessons?

So, are you gonna make an honest woman out of our Nancy, Sid?

Well, she's always been honest to me, Grandpa,

so she's never lied to me.

But, uh... what are your, er... intentions?

Well, first off, we're going to go down the methadone clinic on Monday.

Then Nancy's gonna get me some gigs. Then we're going to go and live in Paris.

And just sort of go out in a blaze of glory.

But don't worry, you'll be proud of us.

(Clock chimes)

So, why don't we go down to the rec room?

(Nancy and Sid) ♪ Fuck this and fuck that

♪ Fucking all the fucking fucking prats

♪ I don't wanna baby that looks like that

♪ I don't wanna baby that looks like Chipper!

♪ Body!

♪ I'm not an animal! ♪

That's an old one.

- So, what else shall we do? - I don't want to do no more.

I'm tired. I want to go noddy blinkums.

- Whose bedroom are we sleeping in? - Actually, dear, you're not staying here.

We thought it would be more fun for you to stay downtown at the Sunshine Inn.

No! What about French toast and blintzes?

You don't want to come back for breakfast. Your bus leaves at 9:17.

But we're staying another day.

Grandpa and I must have misunderstood. We're... We're going out of town tomorrow.

The whole family is going out of town.

- I didn't know we were going anywhere. - Shut up, Chipper.

Aw. That's all right. Can we come?

No, Nancy. You just can't.

- Will you at least drive us to the motel? - Of course, dear.

We'll give you money for a taxi in the morning.

You'll get to the bus in plenty of time. Here. Darling, it was lovely to see you!

Here.

Look. Leave him there?

(Sid) 'Those people were really lovely.'

- Best fucking food I ever ate. - (Film on TV)

So why'd they throw us out?

Cos they know me.

(♪ Dramatic soundtrack)

(Sirens)

Can you move your foot?

- You know about the Golden Triangle? - Yes.

It's where the heroin comes from.

I heard about it when I was in 'Nam.

- You've heard of Vietnam, right? - Yup.

Yeah, uh-huh.

Yeah, while us guys was fighting, dying and getting all fucked-up,

the CIA was flying the shit out of there and into here - with our planes.

Know who paid for that shit?

We did.

That is, the government.

You know why?

Cos smack is the great controller.

Keeps the people stupid,

when they could be smart.

- What's he on about? - Some bullshit politics.

You guys got no right to be strung-out on that stuff!

You could be selling healthy anarchy.

But as long as you're addicts,

you'll be full of shit.

(Woman) Come on, Vito. Don't be a jerk.

I just don't know how many people want to see Vicious on his own.

- Are you kidding? Sid Vicious is amazing! - He's not going to be on his own.

- He's going to have a great fucking band. - Yeah?

- Yeah. - Who?

Who? Iggy. Dee Dee. Chrissie. Debbie. Debbie Harry singing back-up.

It's true!

- Johnny Thunders, Joe Strummer. - I love you, Nancy.

- You're a fucking nutcase. - Stiv Bators, Jerry Nolan.

I'm running a business here. You really think he can pull this off?

- Yes! - Can he play?

He can! He practises all the time, right?

Vito, come on, please. Give us a gig.

You want me to fuck you?

No!

You shouldn't offer. It's not professional.

(Phone rings)

(Dial tone)

All right. I'll give you three grand for three gigs.

- All right! OK! - Deal.

(♪ Strumming)

Sid!

Sid! Hey, Max. Sid!

Sid, guess what.

Sid, I did it. I got you three gigs at Max's.

At least three, maybe more. Are you excited?

- Yeah. - What? Sid!

- What's going on? - We're just jamming, you know?

- And watching Trigger. - What is this?

- Sid. Did you give him this? - Fucking, come on, Nancy!

I just came here to jam, all right? Just be cool.

Don't tell me to be cool. Sid! Sid, we had a deal.

We said we weren't going to do any more smack until after the gig, you asshole!

You fucking jerk! I can't trust you further than I can fucking throw you!

We had a deal. We said we weren't going to do any smack till after the gig!

And you haven't even saved me any, you fuck-ass!

Shit, you asshole! Motherfucking jerk...

- (Smack) - Aagh! Sid!

Sid! You're a fuckhead!

What the fuck is going on? Oh, shit!

- Is he all right? - No. He's a fucking asshole junkie.

Fuckhead.

You're really gonna love this place. A lot of great artists stay here...

Let's take him to my room.

It's a couple of my foreign exchange students.

Why don't we just get to the elevator? We'll take the elevator.

(Sid) This next number is for all you sensitive people.

For all you young lovers.

Eins, zwei. Eins, zwei, drei.

(♪ Intro to "Something Else")

♪ Oh, yeah

♪ Here she comes

♪ Here comes that girl again

♪ One of the cutest since I don't know when

♪ But she don't notice me when I pass

♪ She goes with all the guys from outta my class

♪ That can't stop me from thinking to myself

♪ "She's sure fine lookin', man, she's something else"

♪ Look here, across the street

♪ There's a car built just for me

♪ To own a car would be a luxury

♪ But right now I can't afford the gas

♪ A brand new convertible is outta my class

♪ But that don't stop me from thinking to myself

♪ "That car's fine lookin', man, that's something else"

♪ Look over there, just wait and see... ♪

- Hey, Nancy. - What?

You want a kitty?

♪ Get me that girl and we go riding around

♪ We're lookin' real good with the white top down

♪ I keep on dreamin' and I'm thinking to myself

♪ "When all that comes true, man, wow, that's something else..." ♪

He likes me.

♪ Never thought I'd do this before

♪ But here I am a-knocking on her door

♪ My car's out front and it's all mine

♪ It's a '41 job, not a '59

♪ I got that girl and I'm thinkin' to myself

♪ "She's sure fine lookin', man, wa! She's something else" ♪

(Crowd cheers)

You like that one?

You want to hear "My Way", arseholes?

(Cheers)

I've forgotten it.

You were fucking great, Sid.

- He was so fucking good! - Well, I don't know about that.

Most of the people there were screaming for John and throwing drugs and shit at me.

- It's just cos they love you, man. - We'd sound a lot better if we rehearsed.

(Nancy) Sid doesn't need to rehearse. He's a natural.

- (Sid) A natural fuck-up. - Sid, you just gotta learn the words.

Words? Not words! Just those bridge and tunnel freaks don't appreciate his style.

- My Way. - Don't go getting down on yourself, man.

- If we just worked a little harder... - What do you know?

Hey, Nancy. Be cool, all right? I'm just trying to help Sid out.

Everybody likes Sid! Nobody likes the shit you do.

- Nancy, be cool! - Don't worry about it.

- People will be into my stuff around '85. - Well, you're lucky to be in Sid's band.

- You all are! - Nancy, be cool.

Fuck you!

Shut the fuck up. Everything was fine. It was going really well.

We don't fucking deserve this, asshole!

(Sid) I'll see you at rehearsals, yeah?

- Hey, Sid. We saw your show at Max's. - Right. What you think of it?

(All) You suck!

Sid, those guys are full of shit. What do they know?

I know what's best for you. That's why I'm your manager.

"Learn the fucking words"? You don't need to know the fucking words!

Just make them up like you did on "My Way". Huh?

I wish we had some more coke.

(♪ THE POGUES: "Haunted")

♪ I wanna be haunted by the ghost

♪ I wanna be haunted by the ghost

♪ I wanna be haunted by the ghost

♪ Of your precious love

♪ Of your precious love ♪

Sid?

- Sid. - Hm?

I must have been dreaming.

I thought we had this little dog.

It was really little.

And we loved it, but then it got sick.

Then it was dead.

(Sid) Aw.

Yeah. It was dead.

And we loved it.

We didn't know where to bury it in New York.

We wanted to keep it,

so we ate it.

(Sid) Oh.

(Knock on door)

(Man) Hey, Sid.

Sid, get up, man. We've got a gig. Come on, let's go.

You're seriously fucking up, man. Come on. Get up!

(Knocking) Get the shit back up! Come on!

(♪Intro to "I Wanna Be Your Dog")

(Knocking)

Sid! Sid, get your ass up. Come on!

Vicious!

Vicious! Vicious! Let's go!

♪ I'm so messed up I want you here

♪ In my room I want you here

♪ Now we are gonna be face to face

♪ And I lay down in my favourite place

♪ Girl, I wanna be your dog

♪ Girl, I wanna be your dog... ♪

(Crash)

(♪ Song fades, upbeat drums)

(On TV) '..whether Public Image Ltd is a company or a band...'

They're all empty.

Just little paper squares.

- Where are you going? - To get some more.

'How do you facilitate this communication, Johnny?'

'Well, about whatever we think is relevant at the time.'

- 'What is relevant to you right now?' - 'Not very much, really, snidey.'

Gretchen, girl.

- Let's go into that building. - That building?

(Children) Where is the money? Give us the money!

Give us the money! Where's our money?

Oi!

- Oi, cut it out. Let him go. - He owes us three bucks, man.

I don't care. Leave him alone!

Who the hell do you think you are?

Sid Vicious.

That was good.

(Western on TV)

When was the last time we fucked?

I can't remember.

You miss it?

...we can, if you want to.

No.

Just give me a kiss.

(♪ PRAY FOR RAIN: "Taxi To Heaven")

(Sid coughs)

Fuck! My fucking bones hurt!

(Coughing)

Yo, Bowery.

Hey, man. What's going on?

Excuse me, man. This is Sid Vicious.

Yeah, right. Put it in there.

(Sid coughing)

(Conversation inaudible)

It's none of my business, man,

but I don't know why you hang out with this chick.

Fucking junk-hog, let's face it.

On top of that, she's always getting down on you,

bitching at you, complaining.

Shit, man!

- She's all right. She don't mean it. - She ought to have more respect for you.

If I had a girlfriend, she'd show me some respect, believe it.

What you talking about, respect? You don't know her!

She's got me these gigs at Max's. We're both getting off the H.

Smart move. Smart move.

It's my turn?

Yeah, maybe.

Don't get me wrong, Sid. Nancy's great.

I love her. You know what I'm saying.

Did I leave a lot of money around here?

I left a fucking lot of money someplace. I thought I might have left it here.

Mmh?

Can I have a little bit of this for later?

Look, Sid. It's not much.

Ew!

(Traffic passes outside)

(♪ Music over dialogue)

Do you have any idea who has stayed here before you?

Dylan Thomas. Excuse me.

Thomas Wolfe. Arthur Miller.

Tennessee Williams. This is not a place where people set fire to their rooms.

The Chelsea Hotel is a landmark.

It's an historic part of the city of New York.

(Child) I want shopping! I want shopping!

- This is a historic landmark... - Shopping! I want shopping!

Shopping!

I'm putting you in room 100. It's on the first floor.

You won't even have to wait for the elevator. You'll like it. The door's open!

Wait a second. Excuse me. Where are you going with that lamp?

- This is our lamp. - You cannot move furniture from rooms.

- I forget where the fixtures are. - This is our lamp. We bought it.

- Where's the TV? - There's no TV?

There's no TV.

Go up to your old room, take the television set and bring it down.

He wants you to like this room.

(Crash)

Bob Dylan was born here.

I haven't got anything, just my wake-up shot.

Nobody's holding downtown.

- Bowery said he'd meet us here. - Are you still buying off Bowery?

I heard he'd sold someone a paper and they died.

That's fucking bullshit!

You guys still fighting, Nance?

- He's real depressed. - Yeah.

- Jimmy's real depressed, too. - Come on!

He broke three of my ribs.

(Banging)

We're being so stupid, Nance. We should just leave them.

Yeah, sure. Love kills. See ya.

- Hey, Sid! - Hey, man. How you doing?

- Got any gear for me? - I got tickets to see Bruce Springsteen.

I don't want fucking tickets for fucking Bruce Springsteen.

- Fuck off and get me some smack! - Hey.

- Shit. - Sid, look at these.

We need these.

But I don't have any money.

- Sid, where did you put it? - I can't remember!

- You did it without me. - Oh, come on!

If I only had enough for one of us, I'd give it all to you.

Liar!

Agh! Fuck!

Fuck it! Poxy fucking thing!

- Fuck it! - You hate me.

I don't!

I don't.

Oh.

I wish I was fucking dead.

Oh, shut up, please. Keep going on about it.

I've got more reasons to be depressed than you.

You're much better off than I am.

Why?

At least you used to be something.

I've never been anything.

(Keys rattle in hall)

(Nancy) Is it Bowery?

No.

- It's that dwarf. - It's not a dwarf, Sid.

- It's a little boy. - What would you know?

- Little kids don't dress like that. - Oh, fuck you...

(Shouts) Fuck you, too!

(Nancy sobs)

Look, I'm sorry.

Look, I'm sorry.

I wish we had something to hit as well.

(Kitten miaows)

I wish we could get out of here.

(Kitten purrs)

(Bowery) Hey, Nance, pull up your pants!

- Yo-ho! - Bowery!

- (Sid) What you got? - Not much.

You guys got any salt around here?

(Nancy) Come on. Don't fuck around. We got the cash.

Everybody's got the cash, but nobody's holding.

I've been up and down this island twice today.

I've been all the way to Brooklyn. Hate that fucking town!

- I've been reading this book... - (Nancy) Aw, come on!

Just get us straight, you shit hole!

I can't hear you. What is it you're saying?

- I said you're a fucking slimeball! - Don't talk to me, you stupid little slut!

Oi! I don't need to hear your fucking crap! Give us what you've got or piss off!

Hey, easy, easy. Wanna know what I got?

Hello. Here we go. Something for you.

- Fucking toe-rag! - Don't get up, Sid. I was just leaving.

- Wait! - Fuck you, Nancy!

You people are rude.

- (Nancy) I'm sorry. - What's that?

I'm sorry.

Better.

You gotta watch your step. The buzz is out on you.

- What's this? Tuinals? - What's this?

- Speed. - You want some of this?

- Yeah. - I never touch that stuff. Too paranoid.

You guys are outside, man.

You shoot that stuff, it's gonna make you sick.

- What about the Dilaudid? - I couldn't get a hold of the guy.

- You got a phone? I'll try again. - Yeah. It's in the lobby.

The phone is in the lobby. Right.

(Sighs)

No promises!

But for my famous friends, I go the extra mile.

You guys aren't going anywhere, are ya?

(♪ Strumming a riff)

(TV on)

(Nancy) My eyes hurt.

The TV's so bright it hurts my eyes.

(♪ Bass twangs without amp)

(Sid) Oh, fuck it!

(Flicks amp switch)

This bloke, he was sort of blinking at me, you know.

He died, I suppose, or something. I can't remember.

Shut up.

Listen.

What?

- I can't hear nothing. - No.

Listen to me.

I don't want to.

Why not?

I don't know. I just don't.

What are you waiting for?

(Sirens wail in distance)

Bowery?

Huh! Bowery doesn't fucking matter.

What does?

You.

And?

You.

(Sid) I'm just not going to, OK? (Nancy) You have to. You promised!

- Yeah, well, I changed me mind. - (Sobbing) You can't!

You can't change your mind. We said we'd go out together.

- You can't change your mind. - Of course I can. I just did!

No!

Blaze of glory!

- You promised! - I'm getting out of this poxy place!

- I'm going back to England. - No. Why?

Because I want to get straight! I'm sick and tired of all these fucking people.

They just kiss arse! I want to get back to my friends and people who care!

Go on! Just leave me!

You always put fucking words in my mouth! Did I say I would fucking leave you?

- No, I fucking did not! - I'm your best friend, Sid!

- So you keep fucking telling me. - And you'll never get straight!

You'll never get straight! Sid, you say that every fucking day.

It's the same. I can't get up tomorrow to the same thing!

I can't do it any more.

Oh, God! Please help me!

- Please, you promised! - You're so full of shit, you know!

- You're so fucking blind! - No, I'm not.

I'm not blind. I see everything.

- Where are you going? - Up the off licence.

No. No. It's five o'clock in the morning.

- There's nothing out there. - Get out my fucking way!

- Fuck you, Sid. You're so fucking weak! - Fuck off out the fucking way!

Help me!

Please! You're so fucking weak and stupid!

- Help me! Help me! - Fuck off! Fuck off!

Fucking hell! Get out!

- You wanna fucking die? - (Screams) Yes!

Fucking die!

(Screams) Fuck you!

(Nancy sobbing)

(Sid coughing)

I feel sick.

(Sid panting)

(Nancy sobbing)

Mmh.

(Groans) Oh, Sid.

I don't feel so good.

Oh, fuck.

Sid.

Sid!

Sid.

(TV mute)

You guys awake? I got something here for you. Check it out, man.

Oh, Sid, this is a serious fuck-up, man.

Sid.

I gotta take off, man.

Bad scene.

(Footsteps walk away)

Who called 911?

Did you call 911?

- (Clamour of voices) - Fuck off!

I'll smash your fucking cameras!

- Sid. Sid. - Why'd you do it?

One word...

(Groaning and retching)

- Is that him? - Yeah, that's him.

Sid Vicious. Ha!

One candy bar.

- One pack of cigarettes. - Look, kid, you're out on bail, right?

- One safety pin. - Why don't you give yourself a break?

I know you think you're kinda tough, Ritchie.

There's a lot of guys out there a lot tougher.

You can walk out that door.

- You can stay out for good. - 67 cents.

Or you can turn right around and walk back in here.

$540 cash.

- Sign here, please. - It's all up to you, Ritchie.

(Men shouting outside)

I don't see any braces on your legs.

(Argument outside)

- Oh, yeah. One more thing. - Sure, kid. What is it?

Where can I get a pizza?

(Man shouting) Let me out, man. I didn't do it!

(Wind whistles)

(Ferry horn blows)

(♪ Funky music in distance)

(♪ KC AND THE SUNSHINE BAND: "Get Down Tonight")

♪ Where we can get together and ease up our mind

♪ Oh, do a little dance

♪ Make a little love, get down tonight

♪ Whoo! Get down tonight

♪ Do a little dance Make a little love

♪ Get down tonight, get down tonight

♪ Baby... ♪

- Yo, Sid, you wanna dance with us? - I'm not dancing with no little kids.

- Why don't you stop being stuck-up? - Yeah, man. Stop being so stuck-up.

(♪ Music continues)

(♪ PRAY FOR RAIN: "Taxi To Heaven")

- Eugh! Pooh! Kissing! - Yo, Sid, you don't even know her.

- What you doing? - Need some help with that?

(♪ JOE STRUMMER: "Love Kills")

♪ Walking out of England thinking you were the king guy of this world

♪ On that bus that goes to Mexico a killer love finds a sweet Mexican girl

♪ But in Mississippi we rushed into the room

♪ Down in Dixie you were crying for dope

♪ Down in Alabama they like home-cooked fare, yeah

♪ So we're gonna strap you to the fryin' chair

♪ But I don't know what love is

♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?

♪ But if my hands are the colour of blood

♪ Then, baby, I can tell ya Sure I can tell ya

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Do you wanna hear the sound of the sirens of the city drown the arguing?

♪ We're on Riker's Island on a population board

♪ They don't care about your fame

♪ But I don't know what love is

♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?

♪ But if my hands are the colour of blood

♪ Then, baby, I can tell ya Sure, I can tell ya

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Love kills

♪ Love kills

♪ On the Rio Grande they'll tie you to a tree

♪ O-oh, o-oh

♪ And you can't call the lawyers cos the whorehouse is asleep

♪ O-oh, o-oh

♪ You people will get weak

♪ O-oh, o-oh

♪ They'll throw you in a cell where you can barely breathe

♪ O-oh, o-oh

♪ But I don't know what love is

♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?

♪ But if my hands are the colour of blood

♪ Then I can tell ya, sure I can tell ya

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Love kills

♪ Kills

♪ Love kills... ♪