Sugarhouse Page #3

All right.

All right, yeah?

You wanna play it like that, yeah?

You just f***ed up.

Uh-huh. You just f***ed up.

Watch this...

Just f***ed up.

You're f***ed.

- Who is it?

- Hoodwink.

- Crystal.

- Hoodwink. What gwaan?

- Long time me no see you.

- Have you seen D?

Him come round last night.

Wha'ppen?

Little D get himself in a trouble?

lt don't matter.

- Out of interest, did D have money on him?

- Hoodwink...

D would've never get through that front

door if him was broke. Trust me.

- How much did he have?

- 50 pound.

Hello?

Hello?

Really boring now.

Talking to me?

Hello?

What up, fool?

For f***'s sake...

Hello?

Baddest bumbaclot Jamaican

in the United Kingdom.

Squash you.

Hello!

Hello!

Yeah, that'll do.

Eh...

this is a good buy for 800 pound,

you know.

For 750, this is a bargain.

Michela. You seen D today?

Michela.

Have you seen D today?

Have you seen D today?

Have you?

Yeah. He was with someone.

Who was he with?

- Ain't seen him before.

- What was he like?

Some white guy. D said

he was gonna sort him out.

F***!

F*** you, D!

lt's OK. lt's OK, Michela.

lt's all right. lt's OK. lt's OK.

So what was he like, this white guy?

Where did they go?

You know, like...your mum

sometimes gives me money.

You know, 'cause she needs me.

Well, er, l need you

to do something for me.

You have got to tell me where D is.

l need to look at it.

There it is.

Yeah, that could be a replica.

This is a .38 snubnose.

Saturday Night Special.

Can do some serious damage

with this thing, you know, bredren.

- They went down there.

- The other fella too?

Yeah.

Trust me, rude boy.

Look...

You're making something

simple very complicated.

- l'm a marksman, bruv.

- Just show me the gun.

Shh. Shh.

- lf l like what l see, l'll pay you.

- l'm an assassin.

- l guarantee it.

- Whap, whap, whap...

All right? As soon as

l've paid, l will leave.

Yeah?

As soon as l've left, you can...

You can run down the local drug den,

you can blow the whole lot.

Huh?

- Money on the table, bruv.

- Oh, come on.

Come on, do l look like l'm about to

take the gun and shoot you?

No. No, you don't.

But that's not the question

you should be asking yourself.

Fact is...

do l look like l'm about to

shoot you? Hm?

Uh?

Why don't you judge me on the way

l look, rich man?

l'm a bloodclot crackhead.

Which means l'm

a dangerous man to know.

What you laughing at?

What the f*** are you laughing at, man?

l swear to God, don't test me,

you know, rich man.

Oi, l've killed nuff people,

you know, blud.

Now, you just move back to where you

come from, with the knowledge that

you just had a little brush with

a gun-toting crackhead and you lived.

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