The Hardy Bucks Movie Page #2

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not have any f***ing

tickets to the games.

Let's just say a game like

Ireland v. Poznan in Italy, yeah?

- You're a f***ing arsehole, man.

- Ha, I'm only messing.

Listen, I'm only here to rub it in.

Enjoy another f***ing summer trying to

master self-fellatio, you big gang bangers.

Gesundheit!

Woo! This is it, lads,

life on the open road.

Three thousand kilometre

round trip, just us.

What could be more fun, eh?

Well, I've compiled a list of about

forty, fifty "dos or don'ts" though.

I need you to adhere to them

while you're under my control, okay?

Number one. No shitting in the

on-board toilet. Nicht, nicht.

Number two. Shleeping. I'll have all the

best beds, you can have the sh*t ones.

If I'm on the job, which is hopefully

going to be every f***ing night,

I don't want you sleeping

in the same van.

Number four.

No f***ing nudity from either of ye.

Especially you, Stateside.

Don't want any f***ing nightmares.

Plus, you're meant to be hard lads.

If I see your cock and balls

in action then, you know,

it just breaks the

f***ing illusion.

Number seventeen. Shtateside,

you sing lullabies to me when I...

They're so beautiful.

So gentle.

So moist, aren't they, lads?

Ah, here, hey, this is f***ing depressing.

It's boring, that's what it is.

We should be out there

with the rest of them,

on the way to Poland now.

Sitting round here,

like a gang of wankers.

Clims and leabes.

More sh*t talk out of you,

Eddie, is it?

Yeah, sh*t talk, is it?

It's not sh*t talk, Boo.

Ah, it's f***ing pure muck.

- Is it?

- Yeah.

Then we're going Dublin, Ibiza, America,

and now we're off to Poland.

What's wrong with your

bits and pieces here?

- It's different this time.

- How?

- Completely f***ing different.

- How is it different?

How is it different? It's a matter

of national pride this time.

- Your country needs you.

- Why, for what?

Your people need you.

Your country needs a lift, Buzz.

- Are you thick, or what's the craic like?

- I'm smart.

This is just going to be drinking and

slobbering, man. You can count me out.

Look, we can be over there

for the Italy game next week.

How would you get there?

You leave it to me now, all right?

I'll have that sorted out.

The mother ship, it's going to be bringing

us all around the World Cup places

in f***ing Poland and Yugoslavia.

Got it from the old lad. Not proud of it,

not f***ing ashamed of it either.

But watch and learn as I give you the

grand tour of this f***ing mother beast,

while Booboo and Fucknuts buy

me loads of booze in the petrol station.

The presidential step

is lowered for my tiny feet.

Ah! Ooh.

Once inside,

the presidential step is retracted

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