RocknRolla Page #3

I've got one just like that at home,

but with a little boy fishing.

Is that what they call humor

where you come from?

Is that what they call art

where you come from?

You are quite the entertainer,

Mr. One Two.

And you're also late.

Please, don't be late.

I've got some work,

thought you might be interested.

Go on.

There are two accountants taking out

And it won't be protected.

Twenty percent for me, as normal.

The details are in here.

Anything else?

Yeah.

I don't want this coming back to me,

so you could give them a black eye.

It might help.

Just a black eye, nothing more.

Very well, Mrs. Baxter.

A black eye it is, then.

Nice shoes, by the way.

Thank you.

You'll be able to afford a pair of your own

in a couple of days.

"Troubled rock star, Johnny Quid,

is missing, presumed dead yesterday...

...when he fell from the side of a yacht

thought to be owned...

...by a prominent high-street

fashion magnate. "

Sorry, I don't know what to say.

Yeah, well, I bet he took a few people

with him in his hot little crack pipe.

We will never mention this again,

all right, Arch?

Look, tell the Councillor

to stop f***ing about...

...with his little bat and balls

and send him inside.

Oh, that is sensational, Councillor.

Did you have lessons as a boy?

Fancy a cool down?

Bit of a chat with Lenny?

- You know Jackie?

- No.

No, Archy, please, don't say anything.

Don't you worry about her.

She's a very good friend of mine.

And a member.

Oi, Jackie.

You fancy a runaround

with the Councillor?

Only if he's wicked.

What does she mean by that?

What would you like her to mean by that,

Councillor?

Come on.

There we are, plans and papers.

When you're in bed with Len,

he likes to sweeten a cash deal.

Would you like a cigar?

I don't mind if I do.

He wants you sitting in the front row

with a new car sitting in your driveway.

Len's skill lies in his ability

to know where your back needs scratching.

That's a nice lighter.

Eight grand they wanted for it,

the greedy toads.

And I paid it.

You know why?

Tell me, Lenny.

It's all about the details.

Is our little deal in there too?

Look at Lenny.

F***ing playing with himself,

he's so proud.

He only paid a hundred pounds

for that lighter...

...he's making the Councillor sweat

like he stole it himself.

I wouldn't forget about that.

The important things first.

You got to hand it to Len,

because he ain't half a naughty bastard.

I'll leave that with you.

Now, the Councillor just needs a few hours

with a right rotten tart...

Can't stay here chewing the fat all day.

Man's got a living to make.

I'll phone you in tomorrow.

and he'll be in there like swimwear.

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