Twin Town Page #3

- Hang on. There's more than two.

There's loads of them!

There's half a f***ing ton of it!

Don't shush me!

- There's eight packets of stuff!

- I know.

How much cash did you just give

to that f***ing idiot?

- 40 grand.

- 40 f***ing grand!

Shut the f*** up.

"Chances are

we won't be gettingsnow."

"But even if the sun shines

from now till Christmas day."

"As far as I can say..."

"I know it's gonna be a cold,

cold Christmas..."

"without you."

Come here boy!

F*** off!

F*** off you prick!

Jones in the middle.

Catch the ball!

Yeah. Poetry

in bloody motion, that is.

Who needs to go to the ballet

when you got that at your doorstep.

Any one of these boys could

play for Wales one day.

What?

Darts?

Listen, if my heart was as big

a f***ing rugby ball...

I wouldn't be sinking pennies

into this slag heap.

But I can't help it, Dewi.

I built this club from nothing.

And I f***ing loves it!

I knows it, Bryn.

I know you do man.

Williams, you're a wanker!

Say after me:
"I'm a wanker!"

I'm a wanker!

Greyo it's alright.

It's f***ing sorted

Sorted with who?

I don't want to shift a whole

F***ing kilo of this stuff.

This isn't f***ing Miami, Terry.

It's Swansea.

We're in the third f***ing division.

What the f*** are we supposed

to do with all that you jock twat?

I got someone else shifting

bigger batches, that's all.

- Keep your f***ing hair on.

- Don't want to shift bigger batches.

I'm happy with little batches.

What's wrong with the scam we got?

I want to move on a bit,

that's all.

I don't want to do a little gram

here, a little gram there.

Shifting a few microwaves and

a bent old bollocks till I'm 45.

I'm just moving to

a bigger operation, that's all.

Who the f*** gave you

40 grand Terry?

I got someone with proper money.

Be careful, Terry.

You can come in with me if you want.

I just didn't think you'd want

in to shifting larger lumps.

- I don't want to know.

- Ex-f***ing-actly.

You're getting out of your depth.

Al Pa-f***ing-cino!

You're pushing it Terry.

Bollocks.

Fatty, We down for a new

guttering on this or what?

Never mind about

the f***ing guttering.

Get the kettle on, Chip.

And get some hobnobs

- Where do you think you're going?

- When?

- What do you mean 'when'? Now!

- What?

- You pillock, where are you going?

- When?

- Now, you f***ing moron!

- Fatty said get Hobnobs, Bryn.

F*** Fatty. Get back on the ladder.

Get on the f***ing job man!

And don't Bryn me.

It's Mr. Cartwright, alright?

Mr. Cartwright, right.

Hey Bryn?

- Are we down for the whole macogny?

- What's the schlamonga like?

Not looking to clever.

They could be tacked up.

Well f***ing tack it up then.

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