Dom Hemingway Page #4

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What you owe me

is what I f***ing want!

I said, you'll get what is yours.

Plus a f***ing present!

- A real present.

- OK, Dom...

Let's say, your girlfriend.

The one with the bicycle.

What's her name?

Paolina? I want her.

Don't be crazy, Dom.

I'm not crazy.

I want her, naked,

like she likes it,

with a little red

bow on her clitoris

- for me to untie with my teeth.

- Enough. The joke is over.

- I think you should sober up, OK?

- Joke's on you, Ivana.

- Go rest. We'll see you at dinner.

- Ivana Anal-toli.

I have been nothing but polite.

Polite? Polite! Aren't

you the bee's knees?

C*nt.

F***er.

C*nt.

You don't want me to get rough.

Trust me, don't go there.

Don't presuppose to

know what I want.

You don't threaten me,

not with that girl's name.

Not with that little

girl's name, Ivana.

Ivana. Ivana? Ivana?

You don't scare me.

You don't f***ing

scare me, Anal-toli.

I've seen death. I've seen evil.

I've seen fire. I've seen rain.

I've seen lonely days

I thought would never end.

You don't f***ing scare me.

I eye-f*** you. I throat-f*** you!

- Dom!

- Shut it, Dickie!

You one-armed f***. You freak.

You one-armed f***ing f*** freak!

No one's talking to you! No

one's ever talking to you!

I'm f***ing bored.

I'm f***ing drunk.

I'm f***ing drunk and

I'm f***ing bored.

I said what I wanted to say.

I said it and you heard it.

Now I'm gonna take a nap.

I'll see you wanks at dinner.

And no f***ing rabbit.

Dom, you up?

It's 6:
30, it's dinner.

Dom, mate!

Dom?

Jesus Christ.

Dom! Dom!

- Dom, are you f***ing mad?

- I screwed it up, Dickie.

I screwed everything up.

Really? Cos I thought you

were just mentally retarded.

Like those boys with the

bowl cuts on the telethons.

- Dickie, I'm a mess. Look at me.

- I'm trying not to.

I'm pathetic, I don't belong here.

I'm a monster. I'm a dinosaur.

- Don't forget nudist, Dom. Don't forget

that! - I ought to be thrown away.

Sent to a leper colony, forgotten

about, left to rot with the maggots.

Jesus, Dom, you've got to

get control of yourself.

You've got to beg

forgiveness of him.

- You've got to put on trousers.

- I've been locked up for so long, Dickie.

I see the light, the air.

It's been so long since

I breathed clean air.

I look at the clouds, I go nuts.

You mix in the whisky, you mix

in the p*ssy, I go crazy.

I'm a crazy man.

I'm a f***ing nutter!

- I mean, I'm afraid to see my own daughter.

- Really?

But not too afraid to insult one of

the most dangerous men in Europe.

Unfortunately, you had

the brass for that one.

He's gonna kill me. I insulted

him in his own villa.

- He'll forgive you.

- He's gonna f***ing kill me, Dickie.

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