44 Inch Chest Page #3

"Poor Colin.

He's pathetic. "

You can say it.

I can take it.

Well, you can all f*** off.

Sling your dirty hooks.

Sorry to have inconvenienced you

and all that,

but uour services

are no longer required.

Snakes.

Laughing at me.

I might look like a c*nt,

but I'm not f***ing stupid.

- No, it's her

that's stupid, Col.

It's Liz.

- What do you know about her?

What do you know about

what it means

to be f***ing married?

You still live

with your f***ing mum.

- Oi.

- This is why Loverboy

must be killed.

This is why she must be killed.

Do this to a man?

Jesus f***ing Christ almighty.

Fire and f***ing sword.

It's unforgivable.

De-f***ing-plorable.

Look at the man.

Where is he?

Look at him.

He ain't there.

Someone else.

F***ing shell that is,

if that,

sad, empty shell.

Hurts your f***ing eyes.

Can hardly look at him.

Make you weep.

Oh, mother of God,

theu will suffer.

Oh, yeah, they will suffer.

That is my promise.

They will f***ing suffer.

- I'm sorry, Arch.

I don't know what I'm saying.

I'm cracking up, mate.

- That's all right, mate.

Forget about it.

It's understandable.

- Here, Colin,

this'll cheer you up.

Have a guess

how much I won last night.

- F***ing suffer.

- Have a guess.

- How much you win?

- Well,

when I left here last night,

I was buzzing.

I was on my way to

the Buckingham for a quick one.

None of you wet willies

wanted to come.

And guess who

I bumped into.

- Meredith!

- Tippi Gordon...

- Off his f***ing face,

pumping, zooming.

Pupils the size of a sixpence.

both:
You up for it?

Are you with me?

Night of it, beauty boy?

You up for it?

Boys' night out?

- He was on his way

to the Grenadier,

invites me along.

both:
I like a line the size

of a f***ing Toblerone.

Oi, bumface, here you are.

- Get your nose

stuck into that.

- Go on, then.

What'd you win?

- 40,600 is what I won.

- F***ing hell.

- F*** me.

- How?

- Well...

We were f***ing about.

So I bet Tippo five grand

he can't win

six grand in a minute.

- I f***ing can.

- Go on, then.

Smacks six thou down

on the black.

both:
Red, c*nt.

Double or quits.

- He bets black.

- Black! Come on!

Come on, you c*nt!

Come on, come on, come on,

black.

Come on, then, red.

God!

both:
Double or quits twice.

- Bets black.

- Come on.

Come on.

Black! Black!

Come on!

both:
Red, c*nt.

Double or quits.

- For the third time.

Only this time,

he bets red.

- Now, come on, come on.

Come on, come on, come on!

Come on, oh, yeah, yeah.

Come on.

Black!

- C*nt, c*nt.

- Meredith.

- "You are a c*nt.

"Here's your 40,000.

Thank you very much.

See ua. "

Well, for a giggle,

I've had 400

on the pontoon table.

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