Hard Boiled Sweets

And I'm kicking myself, really.

'Cause when I was a nipper, I

didn't pay no attention at school.

Bollocks to all that.

Now I'm an old git, and I can't get

enough of reading and whatnot.

History's what I like best.

All those kings and queens

with their armies and wars.

I love all that stuff.

Being what is technically

known as a proper villain,

I can relate with them royalty.

'Cause what they

got up to, wars,

was just robbing

and killing and bullying.

Same as what I done.

Only difference, they did

it proper big scale.

Those crown-wearing bastards

saw everyone coming.

Got them all confused into

thinking they're legit.

Got them thinking

they're heroes

and worth writing books

about and everything.

And this is not me trying to

glorify the criminal game.

Gonads.

Try glorifying something that can

see you end up with your head

shoved down a toilet at my age.

Why do they

call you Jimmy The Gent?

It's not a compliment.

Well, Jimmy The Gent.

You've been a big cock in a

little ass for a long time now.

But that isnt

going to cut it no more.

You see, there's

a bigger cock in town.

A prize cock.

And that prize cock is me.

I want the money, Jimmy.

I'm going to give you

a week to get it.

Jermaine here's going to stick to you like

glue, 2417 to make sure you get it.

So don't disappoint me, yeah?

I won't, Leroy.

Good boy.

You know, if I was getting out,

you know what I'd do first?

You'd get drunk.

Can do that in here, can't I?

Nah.

I'd go and have

a nice cup of tea.

You can do that in here, too.

Can't. I can get a mug of tea.

It's not the same thing.

I'm talking about

a proper cup of tea.

With a saucer, served from a

teapot, with a bicky on the side.

Digestive or Rich Tea?

Honestly,

I could give a f***,

just as long as it's there.

There's something so...

So f***ing civilized about it.

Don't you agree?

Might drink it all posh.

Me little finger sticking

out and everything.

Oh, that's lovely, that is.

I'll have a cup

for you, how's that?

Yeah, you do that.

Remember something, will you?

What's that, Joyce?

Remember there are only three good

reasons to do anything in this world.

Women.

Money.

That's two reasons.

What's the third?

It'll come to you.

Just not in here.

The trouble is, I'm not

much of a thinker.

Think that might

take me too long.

The longer the better.

The longer the better, Johnny.

Six years,

four months,

two weeks,

three days,

18 hours,

36 minutes.

Give or take.

All I've got is the

clothes on my back

and a lifer's

riddle in my head.

What I probably need most

is a friend.

Yeah, well...

I was thinking

you might want a lift.

You want the truth I was

hoping to go for a walk.

Sorry, it wasn't meant

to sound like an offer.

You do your time,

then you can go straight.

That's what they try

and sell you anyway.

The truth is different.

You do your time.

Then you do your straight time.

There's no bars, no lockdown.

But you're not free.

It's f***ed.

The whole car's f***ed.

You want the truth, I doubt if it's

going to get us where we're going.

Where's that?

Looks like I'm doing my

straight time under a copper.

Shouldn't I be checking in

with my PO, detective?

Taken care of.

You like the seaside?

'Course you do,

everyone likes the seaside.

It's good to be beside, inn it?

Well, I'm pleased you're happy,

'cause that's

where we're going.

South end.

What a day out.

Have a relax.

Get your feet wet.

Soak up the sun.

Bring the kids.

They're going to love it.

The thing is, we're not

all here for a holiday.

Some of us are here

for the money.

Babe.

Morning, gorgeous.

Thought you might fancy

a spot of breakfast in bed.

Eddie, you are such a sweetie.

You know me.

There you go, breakfast

of champions right there.

How'd you do?

Okay, I think.

You think?

Yeah, no, I did fine.

Good.

Hmm.

You did real good, baby.

Daddy's very proud.

Come here.

You okay?

Yeah, just a bit sore.

Good nights will

do that to you.

But don't worry.

I'll kiss it better later.

You want a hotdog?

I don't know.

'Course you do.

Go on, order one.

And a milkshake My treat.

Thank you, Daddy.

Off you pop.

I'm going to bang on a tab.

Be back pronto.

The thing with whores,

and by whores, I mean

those who've got pimps.

I know about what I know.

I don't know nothing about girls

that work for themselves.

Most people don't know nothing,

think they're all

f***ed up junkie sluts.

But that's not it.

That comes later.

The thing is, some people just can't

make a decision for themselves.

They don't want to.

Making a decision, it scares

the living shite out of them.

Simple things. What to wear,

where to live, what to eat.

They don't want the

f***ing responsibility.

They'd give anything to hand

that over to someone else.

Why do girls still become nuns?

Exact same situation.

Except not all girls

is nun material.

Them girls need

someone like me.

A pimp.

'Cause a pimp will take care

of all your decisions, always.

Until the end of time.

Just like the church

will, if you let it.

And like for the nuns, a pimp's

price is exactly the same.

We take your soul, baby.

We take your soul.

Oi, B and H, can we

park here or what?

Piece of sh*t

on wheels like that?

I wouldn't park it

I'd dump it, pal.

Do yourself a favor, yeah?

I hate this time of year.

F***ing day trippers.

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