Summer Page #2

Right.

- No, Shaun, you can't go to the toilet.

- I need a pencil.

Right, spellings.

Country.

Country.

County.

County.

Believe.

Believe.

Because.

Because.

What the f*** are you laughing at?

You, you f***ing spastic.

F***ing arsehole!

Bastard! Bastard!

- Go on, hit him!

- Kill the bastard!

- F***ing bastard!

- Get off him! Now!

- F***ing...

- Get off him.

- Sedman!

- You f***ing bastard!

- Who's the spastic now?

- Jesus Christ! What have you done?

- He f***ing started it!

- My office!

Get off!

F***ing leave me! You'd f***ing better!

Calm down, lad!

F*** off!

He assaulted three boys, Janice.

He broke Paul Davies's jaw

and fractured his skull.

- You're lucky he didn't kill him.

- He doesn't like it here.

He's disruptive

and bullies other children.

He is not a bully.

I've two staff members

that won't teach him,

let alone complaints

I've got from other parents.

- He can't keep up in class.

- He's not even trying, Janice.

He needs help.

He's been getting

all the extra help we can give.

Well, he needs more.

Maybe you could help him

a bit more at home.

So it's my bloody fault

he can't read?

Of course not.

Shaun's got a below-average IQ.

But you told me he should

still be able to read and write.

He's always been on borderline

of entry to a special needs school.

Special needs?

You'll have a f***ing special need if

he doesn't read by the time he leaves.

- He has left, Janice.

- No, we've got a whole term...

He's going to be expelled.

I've got no choice.

- Expelled?

- I'm sorry.

- Janice.

- F*** off!

Come on.

Alright, love?

What we gonna do with you, Shaun?

I don't know.

Alright?

- How's your mam?

- She's alright.

Tell her I'll see her on Friday.

I will do.

- Don't forget.

- I won't.

Give us a chip.

- Do you ever stop f***ing eating?

- Give me the brown sauce.

Oh, that is disgusting.

How can you eat that?

- Do you want one?

- You are sick.

That's what my mum said last night.

She thinks I've got worms

cos I'm not eating her vegetables.

They're f***ing foul though.

Come on.

- Where are we going, then?

- To rob a bank.

- Smartarse.

- Fanny.

Three months?

I don't go back

till I start secondary.

- Lucky bastard.

- I should've broke his neck.

- Three months off school?

- I fractured his skull.

- I need to hit someone.

- Hit Smithy, he wouldn't notice.

- What did your mam say?

- She's not bothered.

- Really?

- Weren't my fault anyway.

- You coming?

- F*** it, come on.

You f***er!

- F***!

- Shaun!

- F***!

- F***ing hell!

Jesus f***ing hell!

So what I want to try today

is a basic job application letter. OK?

So off you go.

Any problems, just give us a shout.

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