All language subtitles for Made.in.Britain.1982.720p.BluRay.x264

(♪ punk rock)

Mr Shahnawaz saw Trevor throw
a brick through his lounge window.

Mr Shahnawaz was treated by his doctor
for a cut he received...

...but was later able to identify Trevor...

...when he was apprehended
and arrested by the police.

Trevor was charged at Ratman Street
police station at 9.45pm.

When asked if he had anything to say,
he made no reply.

(magistrate) Do you have any questions
on the facts, Mr Wyman?

- No questions.
- Thank you.

(magistrate) Were you aware that
Mr Shahwanaz had to be treated...

...for a wound you inflicted upon him?

Yeah.

Stand up!

You do not invite leniency, do you?

No.

(♪ punk rock)

You were a constant truant at school -
a failure, it seems.

You've been in court on numerous
occasions for non-attendance.

You have been convicted of
taking and driving away...

...shoplifting, violent behaviour...

...and, in spite of your
undertakings to the court...

...you have made no attempts
to secure yourself a job.

And now you've been accused
of stealing once again...

...and you've attacked a member of
the immigrant community...

...and caused damage to his property.

It's a long, depressing list.

Are you not ashamed of yourself?

No.

(♪ punk rock)

You are currently under way to Hooper
Street Residential Assessment Centre.

"Residential" means the place
where you reside, live.

You will reside, live, at Hooper Street
for a period of six weeks...

...which means you'll probably end up
in there for about six months...

...while a team of experts - psychiatrists
and psychologists, team leaders...

...key workers - decide what
they think should be done with you.

That is called assessment.

Then you go back in front of His Nibs
for nicking the cassettes from Harrods...

...he reads the experts' reports,
and then sentences you to be hanged.

- You got that?
- What did I get for the cassettes?

(sighs) You don't listen, do you?
You're all the bloody same!

Today was the brick
through the Paki's window.

They made a balls-up. You gotta go back
for the cassettes from Harrods.

That's when he'll decide
what to do with you!

- You're in a bad mood, Harry.
- You think you'll get away with it?

- What?
- (mimics) What?

- Nicking from Harrods!
- Why not?

- Full of skinheads that day, was it?
- It was full of wogs.

How many other skinheads did you see?

It was full of wogs. Why not me?

- Wankers!
- You heard the man. No more chances.

- See him again and he'll put you away.
- Bollocks. I'll kick the door down.

- It's not worth it. They'll lock you up.
- They can't do that for not getting a job.

No? Try 'em and see.

You still gonna be
my social worker, Harry?

Yeah. I'm afraid so.

I'm off for the next two weeks,
so behave yourself!

- Off what?
- Work.

You going on holiday, Harry?

- That's right. Corfu.
- Where's that?

Just stay straight till I get back.

Put me in your filing cabinet.

I'll spend the next two weeks reading
all the cobblers you write about me!

- Peter, this is Trevor.
- Hello.

What can I do for you, Harry?

- Well, I brought Trevor.
- You mean, this Trevor?

Yeah. His case notes
will be round later in a lorry!

Have you brought Trevor for admission?

- We've just come from court!
- I know nothing about this.

- It's a telephone referral.
- When?

Four, five days ago.

Oh, er, yes... Wait there.

How'd you know I was coming
five days ago?

I didn't.

- I only went to court this morning.
- It's common procedure!

Come through, Harry, Trevor.
See if we can't sort this out.

Come on, bald-brain.

We'll find you a place,
even if we have to pay for it!

(phone ringing)

Harry, Trevor is
a telephone referral, is he?

Right.

Hello, Peter Clive.

Beep-beep-beep-beep!
Hello, Peter Clive.

Terry. Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, she's still here.
No, nothing's planned.

No. Er... can you hold on
two ticks, Terry? Good.

Harry, your message
isn't recorded in the log.

- Terry's not expected.
- Trevor!

Oh, Trevor. That makes things
very difficult for us to sort out.

- Impossible, I'd say, Peter.
- Yeah.

Just remembered, I left the care order
round at the court.

- Can't admit him, then.
- (Trevor) When can I go to the Jobcentre?

- Where is it, anyway?
- Can I call you back?

What brought this on?

This place is full of wankers.
I'd rather work than be here!

Look, Peter, can't we
do something with Trevor...

...and then you and me
can have a sort-out?

All right. I'll pass you on to someone else,
if you feel OK about that.

- Don't need me, do you?
- I just want to get down the Jobcentre.

(Peter) Come through.

Back in two ticks, Harry.

- Watch your step, smartarse.
- Bollocks!

- What's this about the Jobcentre?
- Magistrate told me to get a bleedin' job.

I'm Peter Clive,
one of two deputy superintendents.

I'll link you up with your key worker
or house-parent - if we can find them!

They'll fill in your entry form with you,
organise a room.

We've got things like bike workshops,
evening groups, Red Rover days.

Oh, we need to have a little conference
with you about your contract.

I don't like that bed - there's a draught.
I want that one.

- I'm in this bed!
- I know you are.

- You got a swastika on your head.
- I know I have.

I'll sell it to you.

- What's this bollocks about a contract?
- It's Pete Clive. He makes you do it.

- He's a wanker.
- Oh, he's a prick.

You have to promise to behave,
get to school on time and things.

Do it in your own writing and sign it.

- What school?
- I still go to my proper school.

I've been suspended, so I'm back.

- So why aren't you there today?
- Infection in my ear.

My case conference comes up next week.

- Then I might get out.
- They're all wankers.

- Who?
- This lot here.

Hey, what's that?

- Don't you know?
- No.

'Ere, you can have this bed if you want.

No, thanks.

I'll stay over here.

- That's just for the bus?
- That's right.

- What about pocket money?
- You've only just got here.

It's not been fixed yet.
I don't know how much you get.

- Same as everybody else?
- You have damages to pay, don't you?

For the broken window.

- I need some pocket money.
- What for?

If you're just going down to the Jobcentre
and back you won't need pocket money.

You go straight there and back again.

- What if I don't make it back for lunch?
- It won't take that long.

If it was up to me,
you wouldn't be going at all!

They might send me for a job!

Here's an extra pound -
against your pocket money!

Where we going?

Get in.

Remember this?

(starts car)

(revs engine)

Evo-Stik.

Stay here.

I feel sick!

Oi! What's this say?

"Supermarket, 23.55 per week."

That's... 50p an hour.

- Bollocks!
- Yeah.

You ain't supposed to take the cards.

You a carpenter?

- (girl) What about this one, Jo?
- I was looking at this one.

"Dental practice. Four O levels."

"Required to train for three years
as dental nurse."

"Should have French and Spanish,
but not essential."

(girl) Yeah, who do you have to suck off
to get that one, then?

'Ere, what's this one say?

"MIF, 9.30-5.30. Young person
for general warehouse duties."

"Must be able to speak
fluent Punjabi and Urdu."

- You speak Urdu?
- No.

Fucks your chances then, dunnit?

Here y'are.

"Wood-veneer wall coverings. Candidate
must read, be of good character...

...living at home with parents
in home environment."

"No criminal record.
School records will be checked."

- Do I get a job from you?
- Yes, but you'll have to wait in the queue.

- You get me a job, right?
- Yes, but you can't jump the queue.

And you're supposed not to
take the cards from the display.

Could you put them back for me?

Tacky jobs, ain't they?

If you wait, perhaps
we can sort something out!

You got something useful I can do
while I'm waiting for a job?

I got ten O levels, seven A levels,
I speak Punjabi and chapatti!

You'll have to wait!

I'll come back tomorrow.

- (youth) See ya!
- I doubt it.

What's this place?

Where did you get all them?

Down a scrap yard.

- What's this?
- Centre punch. You never seen one?

- No.
- T-bar?

- What's that for?
- I'll show you.

Take these, get 'em in the centre.

Hide 'em - stick 'em up your arse.
Don't lose 'em! We get nicked, chuck 'em.

Hey, all the new cars -
they got locks, proper locks.

How you gonna do it if you
ain't got the right-sized keys?

Which one do you want?

That one.

- See? It's locked!
- Bollocks.

- You want the keys?
- No.

- (starts car)
- Oh, that's sweet. That's sweet, man.

- Now get out.
- What?

- Get out.
- What for?

I been down the Jobcentre on the bus.

We get back together, they'll suss us
and get my keys, so you fuckin' walk.

I'm going to see some mates.

(revs engine)

(Peter) Trevor!

Trevor!

Take it back.

- What?
- The car, Trevor. Take it back!

- I don't know what you're talking about.
- I'm not bloody stupid. I saw you.

You've nicked that bloody car,
so take it back!

I ain't nicked no car!

I saw you get out of it.
Now, I'm not blind or stupid.

Now, take it back. Get rid of it!

I'll get rid of it. But I ain't taking it back.

Fine.

But do just that.

(water runs in cistern)

- You've known about it for two weeks!
- (girl #1) I haven't till now!

- (girl #2) I been on a boat before.
- (man) Let's start loading.

- (woman) At least come and have a look.
- (girl #1) What for?

- (girl #2) I ain't scared.
- (girl #1) I know you ain't.

(girl #2) He said I was.

(man) I did not! I said if you were nervous,
you should have a look.

Trevor?

Come through, will you?

(girl #1) Go, and bloody good luck to ya!

Where is it? Where'd you put it?

- What?
- The bloody car, Trevor, the car!

I gave it to Oxfam. They're using it
to ship wogs back to Zululand.

- Where is it?
- Police parking lot. Where's lunch?

- Why'd you take it?
- To get back to lunch.

- You were given money for a bus!
- I bought a car instead.

You're not being clever, you know.

When do I get lunch?

You don't. You've missed lunch.
It's too late.

- You what?
- And next time I'll have you in court.

- Great!
- It's your last chance. Get out.

You had your lunch?

Yeah.

I ain't.

Oi!

Oi! (snaps fingers) I want my lunch!

(shouts) Oi! I want my lunch!

(man) Do you mind?

There's no lunch.
You know there's no lunch.

We don't serve lunch
at three in the afternoon!

He's got his in there. He's got it.

The dining room's closed.

(door locked)

You bastard! I'll have you!

Aaghh!

Aagh!

- Let me through! I have the key.
- Let go!

- OK!
- Right!

(door unlocked)

Get rid of this, shall we?

Heavy mob?

Thank you, Peter.

Well, at least you can spell.

Harry Parker, your social worker - I know
Harry very well - he says you're bright.

- Says you're worth a bit of bother.
- Wouldn't take the time, if I were you.

Don't be smart. We've no time to waste.

Plenty of other kids
we could be dealing with.

If you want to behave like a moron...

...we'll put you with all the other morons
under lock and key.

I'll have you transferred to a secure unit.
We'll assess you from there.

If you're gonna stay here,
you have to step into line.

- I'm not...
- Just a sec. You have to step into line...

...and you have to cooperate.

That shouldn't be too difficult.
We're a reasonable lot.

I'm not signing any contract.

Well, let's look at that, shall we?

Let's give your intelligence
the benefit of the doubt.

Mr Parker says you're a bright lad,
and I respect his opinion...

...so I have a particular interest in you -
personal, between the two of us.

I want you to prove to me
you're worth all the time and effort...

...that we're prepared to put into you.

Your big break, this.
Cos I'll not give you a second chance.

All right?

- All right.
- Good.

So let's take a look at
what life's got in store for you.

Go back a few steps,
see just how clever you've been so far!

For a kickoff, you've just been to court.
When was it?

Thursday. Yesterday.

Just yesterday?
You've been before, haven't you?

Right?

- Right.
- Still being clever, still being smart.

So what were the most important things
that happened before that?

Can you remember that far back?

You started off here, at home.
H-O-M-E spells home.

There's your mum, your dad,
all the rest of 'em.

And just like any other mum and dad,
all they ask you to do is to go to school.

Now, that's not too much to ask, is it?

You're clever, bright. Everybody wants
you to succeed, nobody wants a failure.

Get the right qualifications,
make your way in the world.

But you didn't want to go to school,
did you? You knew best!

So you started bunking off -
out the gate, over the fence.

And your teachers are concerned,
cos they're there to help.

They don't want to see you get behind.
So they go and see your mum and dad.

- No teacher's ever been to my house.
- They still talked to your mum and dad.

And they told you to get your arse back
into school! But you still didn't listen.

Out the gate, over the fence.
Before you know where you are...

...your mum and dad get a visit
from the education welfare officer!

- Got a visit from him, didn't you?
- Yeah.

The EWO's there
to make sure you go to school...

...or he tells the appropriate authority.

And that spells trouble!

Now, at this point,
a lot of kids get a bit of sense.

They get themselves together,
they get back to school, they listen.

But you didn't listen, did you?

The education welfare officer visits
four, five, six, even seven times...

...tries to help, discover the problem.

A lot of time and expense - and all
because you don't want to go to school!

The EWO reaches his limit,
so he sends your parents a letter...

...threatening to take you to court
for non-attendance...

...but that does nothing -
absolutely nothing.

So there's a summons.

And you go for the very first time to court.
Your debut!

First appearance -
send him home for a test attendance...

...for whatever good that'll do!

You're supposed to go to school
for 21 days straight...

...but you foul up after the third
or fourth day and back you go again.

So... One, two, three, four, five...

...six breaks.

Six chances to get yourself straight,
get your arse back into school...

...and one, two, three, four, five...

...six times you've blown it.

- Now, am I not right?
- Yeah.

But you weren't just bunking off. You had
to do summat with all that free time.

So you did a bit of thieving.

First two or three times you get caught,
you get taken down the nick...

...and some policeman tells you off,
shouts at you.

Next time you get a caution - this time
a sergeant in full uniform shouts at you.

But that doesn't make a damn bit
of difference, you're deaf to reason.

You go on nicking and making
a bloody nuisance of yourself...

...when you should be here,
learning summat useful!

But it's burglary, shoplifting, TDA -
touching the dog's arse...

...taking and driving away -
and back you go to court.

They're getting to know you now...

...so you get fined, or sent to
the police attendance centre.

Kept off the streets all day Saturday...

...made to scrub floors when you could be
watching West Ham lose at home.

The magistrates don't know
what to do with you.

They're all greengrocers
and shopkeepers.

So... they send you here to us...

...for... assessment.

So, what are we going to do with you?

- We could recommend you go home...
- What home?

...but they won't have you.
So how are we going to get rid of you?

Foster parents? Never.
Children's home? A joke.

CHE, detention centre, borstal.

Well, a pity about CHE,
Community Home with Education...

...appealing both to your intellectual
brilliance and your public spirit.

What used to be called
an approved school, a CHE.

You could have been king of the Mafia!

Lots of lick-my-arse power trips
around vicious 15-year-olds...

...and you've just turned 16! Bad luck.

Not much left to bring you in line.

Short, sharp shock at the local
detention centre, or borstal!

Two simple lessons
you'll have to learn, DC or borstal.

One - discipline,
two - respect for authority.

You're gonna have to learn it,
so you might as well learn it now.

This is an open invitation to you to
cooperate, Trevor. For your own good.

DC - seven out of ten
coming out of detention centres...

... eight out of ten from borstals re-offend,
commit crimes, that is, within two years.

So, here you are, fresh out of borstal.

What's the first thing
you're going to need? Peter?

A job.

Peter, how many unemployed
do we have at the moment?

- Millions.
- Exactly.

So what chance have you got,
with your record, of getting a job...

...against a lad with O and A levels
and a decent haircut?

About nil?

Optimistic. So, no job.

What do you do? Sign on. The dole.

How much is that worth to you?

A place to live, food in your gut,
a bit of fun? Nothing. It's gone, broke.

No job, no prospects, no cash.

So what do you do?

And you're back here - all because you
were too stupid when you were here...

...nicking sweets from the local tuck shop.

Well, they've tried all this.
They know this didn't work, not with you.

So what's left?

And you're on the bandwagon, boy.
And you won't get off.

Prison: Locked up like an animal!

A job: No prospects.

Dole: No cash.

Thieving: No more chances.

Prison: An animal.

Round and round you go.

Well, those are your options.
You've created 'em.

You've brought it all upon yourself.

Before you kick another door down...

...before you kick another chef
in the bollocks...

...before you do anything...

...think!

You may not get another chance.

Settle down.
We'll have another little chat on Monday.

Sounds great. When do I start?

It doesn't have to be like that, Trevor.
There are alternatives, brighter prospects.

You lot are all the same - all first names.
"How about that, Trevor?"

You make out like you know me.

- I know some things, Trevor.
- Trevor!

I know you're intelligent.
It's on all your reports.

You say that like it's a present.

I'm not trying to be patronising.

Look, what do you expect me to be?
Thick in the head?

- Trevor...
- Trevor!

- (man) You've found your tongue now!
- Bollocks.

- You can walk out of this room now...
- Where to?

...but you must behave responsibly.
- Grow up.

No more violence, and start using some of
the intelligence you're supposed to have.

Bollocks. Piss off! I hate you,
the fuckin' pair of you! I hate you!

I don't know you, Trevor. You don't
know me. So how can you hate me?

- For putting me in here.
- You put yourself in here.

Look, you go kicking doors down,
breaking the place up...

I'm British!

So?

- Know what that means, do you?
- I think so.

- You proud to be British?
- What do you mean?

Don't you know? I'm proud.

I don't really think about it like that.

That's cos you've spent too much time
locked up in here with all these niggers.

Oh, I see.
British bulldog, one, two, three.

I'm more British than you, fuck-face.

You hate blacks as much as I do,
but don't admit it.

You hate them more,
cos they frighten you.

- That's why you lock 'em up.
- Watch it.

You lock up anything that frightens you!

The only thing that frightens me, Trevor...

...are the people who put sick ideas
like that into children's heads.

- Trevor, this is not a prison.
- (Trevor) It's just the same as school.

Do what we tell you,
think what we tell you...

...say what we tell you,
squawk, be a fuckin' parrot!

I hate you for putting me in here!

You're bullshitters! You swallow your own
bollocks, you expect me to swallow it too.

Blacks in here are as thick as shit
with no brains! You know it.

Admit it. I had to sit in school and watch
these wankers add up on their fingers.

I was held back.
All the white kids were held back!

And that's why you spend your time
attacking canteen managers?

It's all the fault of the blacks?

- Pakis don't even speak fuckin' English!
- Well, send them back(!)

- Now, come on.
- It's not cruel. It would be kind!

That why you threw a brick
through Mr Whatshisname's window?

Every Paki's gonna get one.

And shit, and piss, and petrol.
Wait till it starts!

- Proud of all this, are you?
- If I watch my p's and q's...

...cos some mingy little fucker like you
is gonna write it all down!

"Your case conference is coming up.
Watch your step." Bollocks!

I'll say what I want. You got decisions
to make about my life, you get on with it.

I hate you for putting me in here.

- One day you'll fuckin' pay for it.
- (Peter) We didn't put you in here.

You put yourself in here.
We're trying to get you out.

Out where?

Out of this room, out of this place.
Back into the world.

It's your fuckin' world, mate, not mine!
Stick it up your arse!

- Come on, Peter, let's have a drink.
- Can't you take a bit of honesty?

I wouldn't have said that honesty
was one of your finer points.

(Peter) Just a minute.
Can I say something?

Trevor, just a minute. That's all.
Let's just cool it, shall we?

This is a bad start. But there's no need
for it to go on like this, no reason at all.

What you have to remember is,
this is just a temporary situation.

You could be out of here in no time.
You're here for assessment, that's all.

That means we want to help you
to help yourself.

Now, it needn't be like that.
There are alternatives.

If it goes well, you could be
out of here in... three or four weeks.

There are youth projects.
You could travel.

Apprentice boarding schools,
choose a trade... Loads of things.

It needn't be like that.

While you're here there's pocket money.
Want new clothes? You can have them.

There are trips planned. Christ,
it's not as bad as you make it sound!

But there has to be some kind of
understanding between us.

- Why were you looking at your watch?
- I wasn't.

- Counting the hairs on your arms?
- There's a lot you can enjoy, Trevor.

Horse riding, canoeing... A lot better
than sitting in this bloody room!

What about fucking?

A man comes round every Thursday
to fuck some sense into...

- You on that one, are you?
- Peter, please.

Let's concentrate on getting out of here.
We can sort out the world tomorrow.

- I'm not signing any contract.
- OK, well, forget about the contract.

All it means is cooperation, and that's
what's important, cos I'll tell you...

...if we don't sort out something -
and soon - all that...

...all that bloody mess up there
will be the only options left.

- There'll be no more help from us.
- Great.

And you'll be a total bloody failure. At 16.

- And it's such a bloody waste.
- I'm a success. I'm a fuckin' star!

Then why are you in here, Trevor?

There are those among us
who'd like to know the answer to that...

...and from where I'm standing,
it's not looking too good.

I'm in exactly the right place
at the right time.

The fact that you're too fuckin' thick or
stupid to see that, that marks you down.

You'll be put up against a bus,
covered in petrol, and shot!

- Fantastic.
- All of you! It's you that's fuckin' failed!

I'm not your bleeding problem
or anyone's!

Bollocks to you and your report!

Write it, lock me up. Who gives a fuck?

I don't know. But what are we gonna do?

- About what?
- About you.

No, what the fuck
are we gonna do about you?

If you had any balls, you'd stick a knife
in the bastards who write all that bollocks!

They're just like teachers at school -
fuckin' wankers!

- You learn anything at school, did you?
- Yeah.

- Be the best, otherwise forget it.
- That it?

Everything they teach you is useless.

- Everything?
- Rubbish. Bugger all to do with my life.

That's what you learned at school?

Work hard, do well, get a job, otherwise
you're no good, you're a vandal.

That's what I learned.
It's a lot of bollocks. Lies!

We're all fucking great.

You ain't taking bugger all from us.
We hate you.

You can lock me in here, but you can't
take away the hate inside my head.

Don't like that, do you?

You can't take a bit of truth, can you?

Oh, I don't think you're
particularly truthful. Or honest.

No, you lie with the best of them!

You go out thieving,
and that's not particularly honest.

Perhaps school would be a better place
if people like you were more honest.

You believe that not nicking from school...

...or from the local Paki sweet shop bit,
don't you?

- That's being honest, innit?
- Yes, it is.

- You don't really want me to be honest.
- Yes, I do.

Well, honestly speaking,
I don't think I can keep the peace...

...while I'm incarcerated in this shithouse
or any other shithouse - contract...

...or no contract,
so there's no point in saying I will!

- How's that for honesty?
- But where's it getting us?

It's not getting us
out of this bloody room.

See? You can't take it. It's the same when
I was at school. I said when I was bored...

...when I didn't want to do a lesson...

...when I wanted to tell the teacher
to fuck off, or kick him in the teeth.

But they couldn't take it. They didn't
want me to be honest in that way.

That's why they don't teach honesty.
9.00-10.30- honesty!

They don't want the kids to say
what they're really thinking.

If they had lessons like that,
they'd lose control!

Wouldn't be able to smack you
round the head when they feel like it.

You just want me to be honest
when you take me down the nick.

"It's a fair cop, guv."

Or when I fill out a form. "Be honest,
don't cheat, don't carry a knife."

"Bend over, let me search you, make
notes about you, keep files on you."

If I'm honest,
I've got nothing to worry about.

You're protecting me from
the dishonest buggers, ain't ya?

But I can't look at the files.

What's read out by the magistrate, what
those fuckers said about me at school...

...what's on the police computer -
it's all bollocks!

We're not talking about honesty,
it's sticking to the rules!

All those honest people
are just sticking to the rules...

...but they lie and fuckin' cheat
all the way!

They just think they're being honest...

...cos they swallowed the bollocks they've
been handed. They've been conned!

Well, I've not been conned.

That's why you can stick
your hairy contract up your hairy arse!

It's a dishonest con!

If you want to put me in line... well, do it.

Try it. Don't fucking lie about it.

Kick me in the bollocks if you like,
cos I'll do the same to you!

So good night and fuck off!

Good night to you too! Peter, I'm going.

Er, just, er...

Just a minute, Barry!

Forget it. He's a sod, he's psychotic.

Have him transferred to a secure unit.
Let someone else deal with it.

Harry Parker dropped this one on us.
Let's chuck it back.

He has no intention of keeping the peace.
Let's have him locked up.

- Give Parker a call.
- Do you really think it's worth it?

(keys jangle)

This one opens my office. The small one's
to the top drawer in my desk.

You'll find my address book.
Parker, under P.

It's a waste of time.

Yeah.

- Want to go to the toilet?
- No, I'll piss on the wall.

We're gonna have to send you
to Hatchmere House.

- Secure unit. Under lock and key.
- Great. It's where I'm going anyway.

Anything you care about?

If I told you, you'd confiscate it.

Same every night.

Late tomorrow.

No-one cares about
your little protest, Trevor.

No-one gives a damn.

It's totally insignificant -
just you in this horrible room.

Yeah.

Right.

Barry Giller and I may not be much...

...but we're all there is.

No-one else gives a sod.

Going banger-racing tomorrow night.

Why not drag yourself along?
You're into cars.

Take the social services
for all they've got, eh?

Better than sitting around in this hole.

Who wants to watch a bunch of wankers
smashing up cars?

Oh, me for one. I quite enjoy it.

One of the lads entered.

It's part of a project.

Leroy. He's...

- He's a good driver.
- And a nigger.

I'll go if I can drive.

Yeah. Well, a cut above
cruising in a Ford Granada!

Accessory.

I'll go if I can drive.

Keep the peace?

If... I can drive.

Nah, it's not that easy. It takes weeks.

(Peter) Just a minute, just a minute!
Think, think.

If I can get him to, er...

Yeah, why not?

It's possible.

OK, I'll fix it. But you stay away from
Ford Granadas. It's a deal for everyone.

No touching the dog's arse, and keep your
boot out of the chef's bollocks, all right?

- He's out.
- It doesn't matter, Barry.

We're all going to bed now,
aren't we, Trevor? Come on, let's go.

♪ Wankers United!

- What happened?
- I'll tell you.

Trevor!

I don't have to do this, Trevor.
I don't have to do it.

Now, you let me down...

...l'll kill you. With help, that is.

I'll get the chef and some of
the biggest lads I can find...

...and Wankers United will bring you
down here and, together...

...collectively...

...we'll duff you up.

All right?

Great!

(engine doesn't restart)

Shit! Shitty car!

Shit!

Fuck it!

(Peter) You were up against professionals.

Nearly all those other chaps,
they're professionals.

Men twice your age.
Isn't that right, Leroy? Mm?

- (Leroy) Yeah, yeah.
- That last race... like the M1 in a fog!

Look at the time!

Lie-in tomorrow. Hey, do you want
some fish and chips, Leroy?

No. No, thanks.
I had a couple of dogs at the track.

If you want to join the project, Trevor,
I'll fix it. Bloody try, anyway.

- You're in now, aren't you, Leroy?
- Yeah.

You could race on a regular basis.
Can't be bad, can it? Join a team.

You wouldn't have to nick cars
any more, you'd get 'em for free!

I know they're free when you nick 'em,
but that's not the point! (laughs)

The police donate cars to the project.
Stolen cars.

They're not ones they've stolen!

Unclaimed vehicles.

Er, do you want any
fish and chips, Trevor?

That's funny. Can't find my keys.

Nah, not there. Lost 'em, dropped 'em...

No, don't!

Too late.

Damn! Now we'll have Hope
or Hopkins on our necks.

Heap of fuckin' tin, that motor.
It just died on me.

(Peter) Mm.

Now, I've got a set of dupes somewhere.

It's always best with keys.

Oh, here we go!

- Hello, Ray.
- What's going on?

They've been on a project race.
Sorry to disturb you.

- I don't know about this.
- Get in, Trevor. Leroy.

- Nobody tells me a thing!
- It's in the register. You should look!

As far as I'm concerned,
this door's locked at 10.30pm!

I'm well aware of that!

Oi!

Oi!

Your case conference
coming up, is it, eh?

What?

Watch your lip. Watch your fuckin' step.
Get your hands off your cock.

This one's got a little bit too much
to say for himself, little fucker!

Look what I got!

(man hums)

(humming, water splashing)

(whispers) Shut it. Shut it.

Shut it!

- What's your name?
- Errol.

- Other one, prat.
- Duprey.

- Do what?
- D-U-P-R-E-Y.

All these keys. Who needs 'em, eh?

- How did you get all them?
- Clive, the wanker. He dropped 'em.

- Where?
- On the floor.

They got you here, you little wanker.

Everything these fuckers
have ever said about you.

- For my case conference?
- For your fuckin' execution.

That's your school, look.

(Trevor) "Educational
welfare officer's report."

"Confidential report to juvenile court.
Subject: L Duprey."

"End of term clinic report."

"Head of Year report."

"Record of school offences: Arguing
with a teacher, disrupting assembly."

"Kicked football into staff face."

He kicked me.

"Racist remarks." Fuckin' hell!

"Damaged calculator
by taking it to pieces."

"Confidential referral form
for admission to special unit."

I don't know nothing about
no special unit.

"My contract, by Errol Duprey."
Is this your writing?

Yeah, it's the contract.

- What do you write with, a hammer?
- A pen.

"I have to behave myself
at Hooper Street at all times."

"I must obey the staff
and teachers at Hooper Street...

...and if I do go home, I must
behave myself and listen to my mum."

Obey the teachers, listen to your mum!

"I have to be up at eight every morning...

...and wash and get dressed and have
my breakfast and get ready for school...

...and reach there at five to nine every
morning." Did you write this cobblers?

They make you do it.

Signed by yours sincerely, Errol Duprey.

"Assessment report on Errol Duprey."
Your case conference coming up, is it?

- Can't you read?
- Not very well, no.

You fuckin' baboon!

"Psychiatric report."

"The most striking feature about Errol
was his nine-inch cock."

What?

"The future."

"It seems unlikely
for this child to return home...

...his mother having rejected him
for her own lifestyle."

"Bearing this in mind,
future care seems to be the alternative."

"We would recommend
a care order be made...

...in order to be able to continue
our assessment of his needs."

You're in here for life, mate!

What'll I do?

Piss on it!

Fuckin' chuck it. Chuck the fuckin' lot!

- Where's yours?
- Who gives a fuck? Bottom drawer.

Piss on it!

Shit on it. Fuckin' shit on it!

(Errol grunts)

Aagh, fucking 'ell, what a stink!

(Errol) Hey, put it on!

- I can't see to wipe me arse!
- Come on!

(Errol) Wait a minute!

Shut it and come on!

Come on, man! They'll catch us.

(starts engine)

(revs engine)

(Trevor) Easy!

(Trevor) Not that one.

Not that one.

(Trevor) Where the fuck is it?

Here it is - Mr Shahnawanker's!

- Fuckin' Paki bastards!
- (Errol) You Paki bastards!

- (Errol) You fucking Paki bastards!
- Animals! Fuckin' Paki bastards!

We don't want you here! Britain is white!

(Errol) Fucking black nigger bastards!

Fucking Paki bastards! We'll put you
in the fucking gas chambers!

Fuck off back to the Punjab!

(Errol) You baboons!
Get back to the jungle!

(Errol) Great!

(man) Hey, you! Come back!

- You hear? Come back! I'll call the police.
- (Errol) Come on!

- They saw us, man!
- Bollocks!

(Errol) They saw us! I don't want to get
in trouble, my case conf is coming up.

Let's go back, eh? Let's go back!

(engine rattling)

You little black bastard! Out!

Out!

Move!

Bollocks!

(driver honking horn)

(honks horn)

Wanker!

Fucking wanker!

(man #1) Hello? Who is it?

(man #2) Hello? Second floor. Come up.

(entry buzzer)

Oi, oi! You up early, missus?

(raps on door)

(belches) What you looking at?

- (man) Just a minute! Hey, excuse me!
- Get in and shut it!

Sorry about that, Mr Driver. Sorry, John.

I thought it was the taxi for the airport.
I'm sorry.

You nerd!

- You going away, Harry?
- In there! And keep your voice down.

You going on holiday, Harry?

What do you want, Trevor?
What's going on?

I'm turning myself in.

- (woman) Harry! Harry?
- What do you mean?

Wait there, and don't make a noise!

(Harry) Oi!

- Up the Yids!
- (Harry) Out!

You wake him up
and I'm going to boot your arse.

I didn't get to bed till one, so I've had
bugger all sleep. So watch it, right?

Now, what's going on?

I had a bust-up with those wankers
you put me with.

Where you put yourself!
I kept you out of there for months.

You're pissing off on your holidays.

If you can't cope for two weeks, you're not
worth a toss. When did you bunk off?

About one.

- Tonight?
- Yeah.

Take my advice
and bunk back in before it's too late.

- I bust the Jobcentre window.
- What?

- When?
- Friday.

- But I only took you in there Thursday.
- They don't know I did it.

- The assessment centre?
- Yeah.

But you're telling me.

- Yeah.
- Great!

(boy) Is it time yet, Dad?

Not yet, Terry.
I'll tell you when it's time to go.

Hello, Tel!

Back to bed - I'm working. Come on!

- I nicked the Transit from the centre.
- When?

- Tonight.
- What else?

Me and Errol chucked bricks
through Mr Shahnawanker's window.

- (girl) Mum!
- Shit!

(Terry) Annie wants to go to the toilet!

- Viv!
- All right!

Mr who? Whose windows?

That Paki bastard who had me put away.

- Did you do Harrods' windows too(?)
- I didn't think of that.

Who's?

Who's Errol?

A nig-nog. From the centre.

I dumped him in the Transit
at the police station. I turned him in.

- Is that all?
- Yeah. Ah... no.

I pissed on my files in the centre.

Errol shit on his.

I'm turning myself in to you, as you're
my mate. You can collect the reward!

Where did you leave Errol
and the Transit?

What police station?

- One near Bradley Street School.
- Crapping on your own doorstep!

- We'll let them deal with it.
- They'll stand on me, Harry.

They don't like me there.
I've been there before.

They'll roll me in a mattress
and boot me.

What's that to a brick shithouse like you?

I smashed a police car with the Transit.

Send me to another nick.

Your shit. You roll in it!

(ringing tone)

You're an arsehole, Trevor.

You're not worth a piss!

Right.

Like my file!

(continuous buzzing)

(flap opens)

Take your finger off that bleeding buzzer!

(buzzing stops)

- What do you want?
- Can you flush the toilet? I done a crap!

(buzzing)

(buzzing continues)

(buzzing stops)

Now, I told you to keep
your hand off that buzzer!

I'm a juvenile offender.
You can't keep me in a cell.

I know you.

Do ya?

I've been charged.
You can't keep me in the cell.

- You got to send me back to the centre.
- Shut your mouth, will you? Just shut it.

You got to look after me!

Gimme something to eat.

You see this?

Sit down and shut your fuckin' rabbit.

- PC Anson.
- Shut it!

You're straight into court Monday.

And you ain't going back
to no assessment centre.

You're going straight
to a detention centre. Or borstal.

And when you come out, we're gonna be
waiting outside the gate for you...

...and we're gonna put you in a car
and bring you straight back down here.

And we're gonna take your fingerprints.

We can't do that now, juvenile offender...

...but once you've been to a DC or borstal,
we can screw you - and we will.

We got you now.

Once we have your prints, we'll do you for
every unsolved taking and driving away...

...in this district, stretching back
over months - and that's a lot of cars!

And you'll go down and you'll stay down
for years. We'll see to that.

Sounds great!

You think you're hard, don't you?

A lot of verbals.

There's two things you're going to learn!

At home, at school...

...at work, in the street...

...you will respect authority and you will
obey the rules, just like everybody else!

That's discipline!

Most kids know that
by the time they reach your age.

Shut it!

And keep it shut!

(door locked)

(♪ punk rock)