Three And Out Page #2

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... And if the lights are all down

I'll see who's around

One way or another

I'm gonna find ya

I'm gonna getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha

One way or another

I'm gonna win ya

I'll getcha, I'll getcha

One way or another

I'm gonna see ya

I'm gonna meet ya, meet ya, meet ya, meet ya

One day, maybe next week

I'm gonna meet ya,

I'll meet ya, I'll meet ya...

Hello.

Are you Paul?

Erm... yes.

Hello, I am Maurice.

I'm pleased to make

your acquaintance.

Please. Eat.

I made them myself. My own recipe.

I am so pleased to meet you, Paul.

There are not many people who would do this.

- Glad to help.

- So, where will we do this thing?

In your apartment?

Well, no, on the underground. Tube.

Ah, yes, but how is this possible?

Well, I'll be driving the train

and you can... you know... jump.

Jump! Are you crazy? I'd be killed.

Well, that's the general idea.

- But what about the cooking?

- Cooking?

Mais oui. The cooking and the eating.

Sorry? What cooking?

I wish to watch as you eat...

Piece by piece.

Eat what?

Me!

First we cut off my penis.

Then we fry it, er... perhaps with onions.

Then we do the legs,

and the arms, and so on,

until I am all gone.

Don't worry, Paul.

Many people have done this before.

Don't you read the news?

It tastes a little like pork.

How is your sausage?

What? Is, er... too spicy?

There's been a mistake. I'm sorry.

One way or another

I'm gonna lose ya...

... I'm gonna give ya the slip

A slip of the lip, or another

I'm gonna lose ya

- # I'm gonna give ya the slip...

Hey! Sh*t!

- Wait! Don't do it!

- Oh! What the?

- Hold onto me!

- Let me go, you f***ing arsehole!

- Jesus Christ! Grab my arm.

- My f***ing coat's caught on something.

Look... just... get me...

Pull me up, come on! Pull me up! That's it.

You interfering little shite!

Why can't you leave a man be, eh?

You f***ing do-gooders,

you think you can just...

- Stop. I can't breathe.

- Good.

Police! Police! Police!

That's all I f***ing need.

Hey, get in!

- How about I buy you a drink?

- I think you f***ing owe me one.

Ah.

- Didn't think I'd taste that again.

- Cheers.

Never mind the "cheers".

What's your f***ing game, eh?

What are you? One of these religious types?

- Waiting like a vulture to save a poor soul?

- I'm a tube driver.

- You can forget about that.

- I'm not religious.

I've done all the praying I'm gonna do.

I want you to kill yourself.

Keep it down will you, gobshite.

You can shove

that reverse psychology up your 'hole.

No, it's true.

I want you to kill yourself.

Well, you've done a bloody good job

of stopping me up until now.

What is it you're after? Me organs, is it?

You're going blind,

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