Mickybo and Me Page #3

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He's buying a round.

Aye. Who's this?

The Sundance Kid. And I'm Butch Cassidy.

We're going to Bolivia.

Ah, no, Australia.

They speak English in Australia.

Aye, that'll be a place.

Better than this.

G'day, g'day.

We'll all f*** off to Australia.

If it's good enough for Rolf Harris,

it's good enough for us.

We'll shoot koala bears for supper.

Will you take us there, Da? Really?

Son, don't be soft in the head. I can't

be minding you all the time like a girl.

I didn't get where I am today

by hanging on to my daddy's hand.

Anyway, Son,

I can't neglect the old horses.

Away on, you two.

Conquer the outback on your own

before you have a ball and chain

holding you back, hey?!

The midget gems, please.

- They speak English in Australia.

- It's a long way, though, isn't it?

Everything's always

got to be perfect with you.

I don't want to get there

and find out it stinks.

Don't worry, partner.

It happened to me the first time too.

You just have to get used to it.

Those bananas must be off.

Should we not just

ring the bell, Mickybo?

We're robbers, JonJo,

not bloody postmen.

God, it stinks of cat's piss in here.

This is a bad idea, Mickybo.

If that old man comes back,

he'll get us with his knife.

Whoa!

JonJo, look at me.

I'm gonna play for Man United.

Be better than George Best.

Keep a ball up forever.

A wee lad in my school has one of those.

He got his leg bombed off when

he went to buy new shoes with his mum.

He doesn't have to do PE anymore.

Lucky git.

Well, now he's got a spare one.

Can we go now? There's nothing here.

I'm not going

until I get a bit of treasure.

Beezer.

- Now can we go?

- I'm trying to pee.

I've never touched a dead body before.

He's like leather. All floppy.

Hiya, JonJo, could I have

my bloody leg back, please?

Mr. Barnes?

Hey, what are yous doing in there?

Run, JonJo. Run like shite!

- Look who it is, Gank.

- I told you, I'll stay away.

I'm calling the police.

No, please, please!

This is gonna hurt me more than you.

Guns or knives, Fartface?

That's not a real gun, Fartface.

It's all rusted.

Oh, it's dead real, Gank. You could

always ask old Barney in there.

Except... he's dead now.

You've gone all quiet

all of a sudden, Fartface.

You don't mind me

calling you that, now, do you, Fartface?

Is it no fun now, two against two?

But he's a spa, Micky.

Us three could kick his teeth in.

We can protect you. Tell the peelers

it was him killed Barney.

I've told you before, Fartface,

he's my partner.

And I don't need any protecting.

Kid, there's something

I ought to tell you.

- Yeah?

- I never shot anyone before.

One hell of a time to tell me, Butch.

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