>>, , / Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels

, , / Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels

: , , / Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels.

, , / Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels


This whole scene is shot using only extreme close-ups of eyes, cards, tapping fingers and mouths. We open on a bright pair of eyes. One is bruised and slightly swollen, but this does not detract from their clarity.

EDDY Three card brag is a simple form of poker; you are dealt only three cards and these you can't change. If you don't look at your cards you're a `blind man' and you only put in half the stake. Three of any kind is the highest you can get: the odds are four hundred and twenty- five to one. Then it's a running flush - you know, all the same suit running in order; then a straight, then a flush, then a pair, and finally whatever the highest card you are holding. There are some tell- tale signs that are valuable; I am not going to tell you them because it took me long enough to learn them, but these can only help a player, not make one. So you want to play?



What have you got?

We cut to a beady pair of eyes and then to his cards as they are turned over: three hearts of no consecutive numbers are exposed. That's a good hand. A flush beats my pair. What about you?

* Cut from completed film.

Another pair of excited eyes widen to the question. We see more cards: a run is revealed.

And here's me trying to explain the game to you. Hustlers, you're all hustlers!

We cut to a shot of a small amount of money being scooped up. OK! You got some real money?



Ed scoops up a large pile of money.

Odds chaps, you gotta remember the odds.

There ? a loud slam of a door. We cut to a wide shot of a policeman who has just entered. It is then revealed that two of the three players are also policemen. They stand to attention, red faced with embarrassment.

SERG I hope I am not interrupting. Comfortable, Edward?

EDDY I haven't slept for forty-eight hours, got a dozen broken ribs, can feel a case of the flu coming on and . . .

SERG (interrupts) All right, all right, don't think I wouldn't like to get rid of you; but before I do, I need to know what's going on, son.

EDDY If you think you're in the dark, I am in a black hole, blindfolded.


We pull back out of the black to reveal that we have been sitting in the inside of a shotgun. The barrels recede further, then `boom.' LOCK STOCK are shot out of the top of the screen in peppered letters. We wait for a while, as the barrels reappear through. the smoke. We then see one smoking barrel; 'boom!' the other is let off: AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS joins the sentence.]


We open on a smart, casually dressed man selling perfume and jewellery on a street corner. A crowd has gathered, attracted by the alarming volume at which he is advertising his wares.

BACON See these goods, they never seen daylight, moonlight, Israelite, Fanny- by-the-gas-light. If you can't see value here today you're not up here shopping, you're up here shoplifting. Take a bag, take a bag. I took a bag, I took a bag home last night and she cost a lot more than ten pounds I can tell ya. Tell me if I am going too cheap. Not ninety, not eighty, not forty, half that and half that again, that's right, ten pounds. Don't think 'cos it's sealed up it's an empty box. The only man who sells empty boxes is the undertaker, and by the look of some of you here today I would make more money with me measuring tape.

A well-dressed, zealous character (Eddy) appears from behind the crowd waving money. It seems he can't wait to get rid of it.

EDDY Bargain, that's a bloody bargain if I ever heard one. Ten pounds you say? I'll have five.

Certainly sir. I'll just wrap.

Changing his attention.

BACON Excuse me misses, sorry sir, ladies first and all that.

A tourist spectator, rather than a buyer, has been. put on the spot. She fumbles through her bag hastily all too aware of the attention of the crowd, of which she is now the focus. She passes her money like it's contaminated. Others follow suit.

Buy 'em, you better buy 'em; they're not stolen, they just never been paid for.

This really stokes the fire. The money can't come fast enough. Just as business reaches its peak there is a call of alarm from the first enthusiastic punter, who seems to be rather more familiar than he first pretended.

EDDY Bacon!

Bacon's expression changes dramatically. A series of crash zooms between Ed's, Bacon's and a third party's eyes (the police) reveal there is a problem. They're off: EDDY and BACON run like they have done this before. They go down an ally; Ed jumps some stairs, we freeze.

BACON (voice-over) Ed can run fast, talk fast, eat fast, and play cards fast, but he's fucking slow when it comes to spotting the roz.

EDDY (voice-over) The reason he is called BACON is he spent so much of his youth in the police station that people thought he was one of them. But he is a big boy now and it is time to move on.

We cut to a shot of Ed as he lands. He has made good distance.


EDDY arrives at a grocer's shop. We meet Tom. Tom is talking to Nick the Greek.

TOM What are you talking about? I am bloody skinny, pal.

NICK Of course you are. All right, Ed.

EDDY Nick the Greek, always a pleasure. All right Tom, what you been eating?

Tom examines his midriff and adopts a confused expression.

TOM Please, both join me in my orifice.


They work their way past a maze of boxes.

NICK (fingering and admiring one of the boxes) How much did you say it was, Tom?

TOM You know how much it is, Nick.

NICK And that does include the amp?

TOM You know it doesn't include the amp.


Tom and Ed make their way through a busy, well-equipped kitchen. This is obviously a smart and serious establishment. They stop in front of the man whose uniform is covered in blood; he appears to be the head chef. Meet Soap.

TOM What have you come as?

SOAP Cupid stupid! That's the last time I am getting any more fruit off you Tom. Call that fresh? There was more small hairy armoured things in your fruit than there was fruit. You should open a butcher's, not a grocer's.

TOM If you will order stuff that comes from Kat-Man-Fucking-Du don't be surprised if your fruit picks up a few tourists en route. ~ Never mind that, what about the money?

SOAP Get your fingers out of my soup!


Soap pulls out a bag from under where he is sitting.

TOM (voice-over) Soap is called Soap because he likes to keep his hands clean of any unlawful behaviour. He is proud of his job, and even more proud that it's legal.

BACON (voice-over) He's a stroppy sod but he's got more balls than a golfer, only he doesn't know it. ' * Cut from completed film.



Ed looks in bag.

EDDY Are you sure you can afford twenty-five?

SOAP Well that depends on how you look at it. I can afford it as long as I see it again, if that's what you mean. You got the rest from the fat man and Bacon?

Tom looks on with suspicion.

TOM Who's this fat man, then?

EDDY Bacon, the fat man and myself, and it's time to make a call to Harry.


A hard-looking man of about fifty is sat behind a large antique desk. On this desk is a hatchet resting in a block of wood, poised like a judge's hammer. Harry is obviously in the sex game. Cluttered up in a hazardous way are a selection of dildos, spanking paddles, etc. A cabinet of fine-looking shotguns is placed behind. We have a split screen involving EDDY and his friends (listening in) and Hatchet with one hand on the phone and the other on a shotgun.

HATCHET You got it all?


EDDY A hundred grand.


TOM (voice-over) You see it's not easy to take a seat at this table; the money involved has to be a hundred grand upwards and there is no shortage of punters.

EDDY (voice-over) The man who decides if you can play is this man Harry, or Hatchet Harry as some including himself like to call him.


HATCHET Well if you got it, you got it. Now, if you don't mind . . .

The phone is slammed down.


SOAP (voice-over) When the old bastard is not playing cards he's chasing a thousand debts that ill-fated individuals owe for an array of reasons.

BACON (voice-over) Sex and sleaze and antique shotguns are all deep and dear in Harry's stone cold heart.

Cut from completed film.


HATCHET What's this EDDY like, then?

The camera spins round to reveal a massive monster of a man sitting opposite Hatchet. Meet Barry the Baptist.


EDDY (voice-over) Hatchet has a colleague, a monster of a man: Barry the Baptist.

BACON (voice-over) The Baptist got his name from drowning people for Hatchet.

TOM (voice-over) But he needs him, because he is good at making sure debts get settled and jobs get done.


BARRY EDDY been shaking the knees of a lot of good players. The boy has a rare ability, he seems to make cards transparent, got bluffing dow . . .

HATCHET (interrupts) All right, all right, so we can say he is good.

BARRY Better than good, he is a fucking liability.

HATCHET Where did he get a hundred grand?



He has got some adhesive mates, they have tossed up between them.

HATCHET And JD is his dad, and owns the whole property?

BARRY No mortgage, no debts; lock, stock, the sodding lot . . . don't worry, I got it under control.

HATCHET Good, you can get this under control now.

A glossy Christie's brochure displaying a pair of impressive antique hammer-lock shotguns is shoved in Barry's face.

It seems Lord Appleton Smythe has run out of money, and these little beauties are up for auction, but I am not paying quarter of a million quid for 'em, if you know what I mean Barry. One of my associates has given me an address and the location of these lovelies. Make sure we get everything from inside the gun cabinet. I don't want to know who you use, as long as they are not complete muppets; and don't tell them what they're worth.

Changing the subject.

'Ere! Hold on, what do you think of these? We are selling hundreds.

Holds up one of the spanking paddles.

BARRY Er, very nice Harry. What's it for?

HATCHET Don't play innocent with me Bazza; spanking!

The paddle is brought down hard on the desk: slap.


Meet the Dog. Dog is horrible. He is large and intimidating. Administering pain is Dog's forte. He is also the Guy we cut from the last scene `slap' to the teeing of a golf ball. Wallop. Dog pulls a sadistic and alarmingly pleasurable face.

DOG It's a dog eat dog world, lads, and I got bigger teeth than you.

We see an individual hanging upside down tied up with gaffer tape but otherwise naked. An orange is stuck in the man's mouth. Dog is standing on another man's chest who has a tee stuck between his teeth from where Dog fires golf balls at the other unfortunate figure. The tied-up man is Gordon. The other is Slick. Gordon nods his head erratically implying that he has reached a decision.

(to Plank) I think your man is trying to say something.


Perhaps not; maybe I should have another swing just to make sure.

Agonised muffled screaming from Gordon. Slick (who has a tee in his mouth) shuts his eyes in horror as the golf ball thumps into Gordon.

Yes, Gordon, is there something you would like to tell us?

The orange is removed from Gordon's mouth.

GORDON (rushing to get the words out) In the kitchen, under the floor . . .

SLICK (interrupts) Shut it, you idiot . . .

Dog swings the golf club round Slick's jaw, knocking him unconscious.

DOG You were saying?

GORDON It's in the karzi, pull the fishing wire under the seat. Jesus, for god's sake let me down.

PLANK Oh, Dog! . . . I think you want to have a look at this!

Plank returns holding an assortment of drugs and cash. Gordon starts to scream. Dog picks up a steel for sharpening knives and throws it across the room. Thunk. Silence follows. Plank grimaces.

Oh, Dog!


Ed, Bacon, Soap and Tom park outside their house. As they get out they pass Plank and John who have also just parked. They ignore each other, and go to their separate doors.


BACON places a pile of money on a table. The rest are eating, Tom keeps looking at his plate distastefully.

BACON Twenty-five from me, Tom, Soap and yourself; a hundred grand to the pound. You don't need to count it.

EDDY I still will, if you don't mind.

TOM (eating) So, a reasonable return should be in the region of one hundred and twenty, for twenty-five grand invested. That's going on previous experiences.

SOAP That's going on optimism.

TOM Whatever it's going on, it's still enough to send you on a cooking course.

SOAP You're not funny Tom; you're fat and look as though you should be funny, but you're not.

Tom is definitely not overweight, quite the opposite in fact. He examines himself to see if something has developed.

TOM Fat? Who are you calling fat? What are all these fat jokes about?

The light switch above Tom's head lets out a few sparks causing him to cower in a sharp defensive action.

Jesus! It's good in here, ain't it! Trains overhead, walls exploding . . . Why the hell did you move in?

EDDY Because it's cheap like a budgie.

BACON And nobody wants to live next door to the people that we live next to; a bit anti-social, you know.

BACON beckons Tom to a cupboard built into the wall.

TOM What do you mean?

EDDY He means they're thieving dogs.

BACON I mean when they are not picking peanuts out of poop, they're ripping off unfortunate souls of their hard-earned drugs.

BACON opens the cupboard doors and puts his finger to his lips. The noise from next door immediately gets louder.

Not exactly thick, these walls.

DOG (off) No you prat, that's for me.


Dog has a small pile of money and pills that he is distributing to his lads.

DOG How many times do I have to explain this to you, Plank? You find a job worth doing and you will find your share improving . . . Now do you have a problem with that?

He obviously doesn't.


Tom raises his eyebrows and frowns to Bacon.


Meet Big Chris and Little Chris (twelve years old).

BIG CHRIS How long has he been in there, son?

LITTLE CHRIS About twenty minutes.

BIG CHRIS Is he on his own?

LITTLE CHRIS Just carrying a bag.

BIG CHRIS Let's have a look, shall we?


BIG CHRIS Son, have a look under that one.

Little Chris looks under one of the sunbeds.

LITTLE CHRIS It's not him, Dad.

BIG CHRIS Try that one.

Little Chris returns from a peek and nods in confirmation.

LITTLE CHRIS Sleeping like a baby.

Big Chris then approaches and raises the sunbed.

BIG CHRIS This is one of those high-powered numbers, isn't it?

John O'Driscoll's eyes widen; Chris slams down the sunbed on top of him as hard as he can.

Got some bad news for you, John.

JOHN O'DRISCOLL What the fu-!

Big Chris slams down the sunbed on top of John.

BIG CHRIS Mind your language in front of my boy.


Big Chris repeats the earlier treatment twice more.

BIG CHRIS That includes blasphemy as well. Now tell me, John . . .

JOHN'O'DRISCOLL Tell you what, Chris?

A man opens the sunbed mom door.

SUNBED MAN I say, hold on.

LITTLE CHRIS I say shut it!

SUNBED MAN You what?

BIG CHRIS He said shut it!

Chris pulls a mean face; the door is closed.]

Tell me John, how you can concentrate on improving a lovely tan, and it is a lovely tan by the way, when you have more pressing priorities at hand?

JOHN O'DRISCOLL Tell Harry . . .

Bang as sunbed comes down again.

BIG CHRIS Did I say speak? And it's Mr Harry to you . . . Now don't disappoint me and chose your words carefully. You may speak.

JOHN O'DRISCOLL I'll have it for Mr Harry in a few days. I have been busy, and I am nearly there.

BIG CHRIS Son, have a look in his locker.

JOHN O'DRISCOLL No chance of you lifting this sunbed up is there?

* Cut from completed film.


BIG CHRIS Yeah, all right.

Big Chris lifts it, then smashes it down again. Now, you want me to lift it up again?

Little Chris pipes up. Obviously familiar with counting money he has flown through it.

LITTLE CHRIS He's not poor. Five hundred and sixty pounds and that's just in his wallet . . . Fuckin' 'ell John, you always walk around with that in your pocket?

The expression on Big Chris's face changes.

BIG CHRIS Oi! Next time you use language like that, boy, you'll wish you hadn't!


BIG CHRIS Right, well, put the rest of the stuff in that, son. You can go home in a plastic bag tonight, John. You owe what you owe arid before this tan has faded, you want to have paid.

Chris punches John unconscious and turns the time dial up.


JD's bar is an impressive sort of uptown-downtown establishment with pretty girls serving a laddish clientele. The boys are propped up at the bar, looking straight ahead in silence. They look nervous. The silence is broken by Ed.


EDDY I am going to the john.

He walks off.

TOM What you telling us for? The only thing I care about is whether you get your rest in.

SOAP Tom, you're all heart.

TOM Listen cooky, you want to make sure that man rests before he plays; it's in all our interests.

JD (the bar owner and Ed's father) All right lads? How's things? How's it going, Soap? Cooking all right? Where's that son of mine?

Each time a question is asked the lads try to answer but are just left with their mouths open, which remain open as a gorgeous girl walks through the bar (Daisy).


We cut to a small, humid, artificially lit, illegal forest being cultivated for profit. Someone is smoking a joint and raising his eyebrows at his friend. These two characters are J and Charles; they have got hair down to their shoulders, small try-hard goatees and science-lab coats, with nothing much underneath.

J (coughing) This gear is getting heavier you know, Charles. I got a suspicion we should have been rocket scientists, or Noble Peace Prize winners or something.

A horn blows (the door bell).

CHARLES Who the hell is that?


The door opens to reveal Willy. Under each arm is a large bag of fertilizer.

WILLY Give me a hand Charlie, I could break sweat at any second.

A voice comes from behind them. At the top of the stairs stands Winston. He slowly starts to walk down.

WINSTON Charles, why have we got this cage?

Pause. Charlie shrugs.

CHARLIE Er, for security.

WINSTON That's right, for security. So tell me, Charles, what's the point in having it if we don't fucking use it?

CHARLIE Well, because it's Willy and Willy lives here.

WINSTON Yes Charlie, but you didn't know it was Willy, did you?

WILLY Chill, Winston, it's me and Charlie can see it's me, so what's the problem?

WINSTON The problem is, Willy, that Charlie and yourself are not the quickest of cats in the alley at the best of times, so just do as I say and keep the fucking cage locked.

Pause as the two in the door look slightly pissed off at being shouted at. Winston sighs and looks at what Willy is carrying.

WINSTON What are you carrying, Willy?

WILLY Er, fertilizer.

WINSTON You went out six hours ago to buy a money counter and you come back carrying two bags of fertilizer. Alarm bells are ringing, Willy.

WILLY We need fertilizer, Winston.

WINSTON We also need a fucking money counter, William! We have to get the money out by Thursday and I'll be buggered if I am counting it . . . and if you have to get your sodding fertilizer, couldn't you be a little more subtle?

WILLY What do you mean?

WINSTON I mean we grow copious amounts of ganja, and you don't look like your average hort-er-fucking-culturalist, that's what I mean, Willy.

Winston turns on his heels and walks off. 35


Ed returns to the bar to find Tom, Soap and BACON looking in disbelief.

TOM (pointing to watch) What the hell are you doing here?

EDDY Why, what's up?

TOM Er, let me guess, my foot in your arse? A game of cards and Hatchet Harry. You're supposed to be getting some rest, boy!

Ed grimaces as his father approaches. He has overheard this last statement.

JD You playing cards tonight with Harry?

EDDY (pauses) Don't be silly Dad, I wouldn't have anything to do with that.


We calm down for a while. A cool track is playing. Ed is now smartly dressed, sitting in an armchair. We have a close-up of his face. He is motionless, eyes closed; he looks asleep. The camera slowly tracks down his body We reach a single hand; he is cutting the pack skilfully and faultlessly; he is very much awake. There is a knock on his door. His eyes open.


Near-naked girls are gyrating against blue poles, which keep distracting these men's attention. Meet the two Scousers - Gary and Dean. The Scousers are in their late twenties, one big, one small. Gary (the smaller) sports a large demi-perm. They bear strong Liverpudlian accents. They are meeting Barry (Hatchet's man).

GARY Shotguns? What, like guns that fire shot?

BARRY Oh, you must be the brains then. That's right, guns that fire shot . . . Make sure you bring everything from inside the gun cabinet. There will be a load of guns, that's all I want. I'll pay you when you deliver. Everything outside the cabinet you can keep; it's yours.

GARY (sarcastically) Oh, thanks very much. And there had better be something there for us.

BARRY It's a fucking stately home, of course there'll be something there.

DEAN Like what?

BARRY Like antiques.

DEAN Antiques? What the fuck do we know about antiques? We rob post offices and steal cars, what the fuck do we know about antiques?

BARRY If it looks old, it's worth money, simple. So stop fucking moaning and rob the place.

GARY So who's the Guv? Who we doing this for?

BARRY You're doing it for me is all you need to know. You only know that because you need to know.

GARY I see, one of those `on a need to know' basis things, like a James Bond film, is it?

BARRY Careful, remember who's giving you this job.

A bit of confused eye-rolling goes on. Barry eventually looks at his watch.

I am off, it's all yours now. Call me when you're done.

As he leaves, the two Scousers eye him distastefully.

GARY (to Dean) I hate these Southern shites.

BARRY (on his way out, whispering to himself) Fucking Northern monkeys.


EDDY and the lads have all made an obvious effort with their appearance. They are met by a doorman.

DOORMAN Invitations.

EDDY Invitations?

DOORMAN Yeah invitations, you know a pretty white piece of paper with your name on it.

EDDY Well we have got about a hundred thousand pretty pieces of paper with the Queen on it. Will that do?

DOORMAN All right, just you; the others can wait in Samoan Jo's next door.

EDDY Samoan Jo's? Yon mean the pub? Hold on . . .

DOORMAN Hold on bollocks, no one but card players in here tonight sonny, and I do mean no one.


EDDY enters the boxing gym on his own, and raises his eyebrows at the thought of climbing into the ring. Everybody else is sitting down counting their money and converting it to chips. Ed takes the only empty chair and has a quick look around, particularly behind.

EDDY Evening Frazer, Phil, Don. This is a bit dramatic, isn't it? Is it supposed to be symbolic?


PHIL/DON All right Ed. Apparently it's for security.

EDDY I would have brought my gloves if I had known.

HATCHET You must be Eddy. JD's son.

EDDY Yup, you must be Harry? Sorry, I didn't know your father.

HATCHET Never mind son, you just might meet him if you carry on like that.

There is an attractive blonde croupier shuffling the cards. EDDY

Evening Tanya, it has been a while.


As the boys walk in to Samoan Jo's, a man comes tearing out of the door covered in flames followed by his friends trying to put the flames out. The lads look on in mild shock.

TOM I heard this place was rough.


The Scousers make their way to the front door and unravel their lock- picking kit. '



SOAP What sort of a pub is this then?

SAMOAN JO A Samoan one. Anything else?

BACON (receiving a monstrous, leafy cocktail) What's that?

SAMOAN JO A cocktail, you asked for a cocktail.

BACON No, I asked you to give me a refreshing drink. I wasn't expecting a fucking rainforest; you could fall in love with an orang-utan in that.

SAMOAN JO You want a pint, go to the pub.

BACON I thought this was a pub.

SAMOAN JO It's a Samoan pub.

BACON Well whatever it is, could you get your man to turn the TV down?

SAMOAN JO You ask him if you like, but I would leave him to it if I was you.

BACON looks at Rory Breaker, the man watching the TV.

BACON Excuse me, could you turn the TV down?


He takes a swig of whatever he is drinking and frowns at Bacon. BACON frowns back, then Soap interrupts.

SOAP This is the English-Brazil game, isn't it?


CROUPIER This is three card brag, gentlemen. That means that three threes is the highest, then three aces and then running down accordingly; then it's a running flush, a run, a flush, then a pair: An open man can't see a blind man, and it will cost you twice the anti to see your opponent. Don't fuck around, fellas; you all know the rules and you know I won't stand for it.

FRAZER What sort of shirt is that then, Ed? 'Three hundred open.

EDDY The type of shirt that has buttons on the front and collars at the top, Frazer. One hundred and fifty blind.

DON Three hundred and fifty open.

PHIL Fold.

* Cut from completed film.

HATCHET Three hundred and fifty open.

FRAZER You're the only fella in London who wears shirts like that. Three hundred and fifty open.

EDDY No Frazer, it's just I'm the only classy fella you have had the pleasure of seeing in London. One hundred and seventy-five blind.

DON Four hundred open.

HATCHET Four hundred open.

FRAZER Eight hundred. Like that, do ya, son?

EDDY When my knees stop knocking I'll live with it. Four hundred blind.


Barry, who is sitting among sweaty towels, takes out a four-inch monitor and switches it on, and hey presto we can see the card table. The camera is placed behind Ed in one of the four posts. Barry zooms in, pauses on the back of Ed's head, gets his focus and jibs down to view his cards, pauses and re focuses, because Ed is playing blind. He hasn't raised them: there is nothing Barry can do. We cut to Barry's other hand. He is pressing a button on a remote control. We cut straight to Harry's leg which is receiving the pulse.



HATCHET Listen ladies, this is cards. Men play cards, you want to talk soft you should be at the fucking hairdressers, so shut up and play. (dramatic pause) I fold.

FRAZER Two thousand open.

EDDY One thousand blind.

DON Two thousand open.

FRAZER Deep end, eh? Fold.

EDDY Two thousand blind.

DON You what?

There is a pause as Don examines Ed's brow looking for a trace of nerves.

Two grand? You're still blind. You have been eating too much English beef, mate; honkers, mad.

HATCHET Well, you going to play?

Cut from completed film.

DON Fucking right I am going to play. Three thousand, there.

CROUPIER Four thousand to an open man, you know that.

We can feel the confidence emanating from Eddy. Don continues to search Ed's forehead waiting for a break of nervous moisture, but it's as dry as a desert disco.

EDDY Donald, do you know how to play this game? The reason I put in half the anti is because I don't know what I have got. Now play, or fold.



Don is thrown out on to the street, screaming and cursing.


The Scousers, having now entered, make their way through the large house.

DEAN OK Gary, we call each other Kenny, all right?

GARY All right, Kenny.

Dean looks at Gary's disguise with some distaste. He has a stocking pulled over only half his face. A sexy thigh grip is replicating an artificial, frilly moustache, not giving the desired menacing look. A big bouffant head of hair is neatly being conntrolled up on top.

DEAN Can't you pull that stocking down further, Kenny?

GARY It just cost me fifty quid to have this done. (Lovingly rearranging his hair) If you think I am going to ruin it for a couple of old bastards you're mistaken, Kenny.


Music starts. We cut to a montage of Ed, Hatchet and Barry at work. Ed must be about 250,000 up but the game is getting out hand and pieces of paper are being signed; IOUs.


Dean returns down a corridor carrying an armful of rifles and enters a large bedroom. There are a couple of toffs (English aristocrats) tied up in bed. The old man has bits of tissue between is toes which Gary has seen fit to light, in order to extract information. Briefly meet Lord and Lady Appleton Smythe Winston and Daisy's parents).

DEAN What are you doing, Kenny?

Gary is on the point of lighting another piece of tissue.

GARY Finding out where he keeps the money.

48 49

DEAN Kenny, you twat, does it look like these people have got any money? They can't even afford new furniture. We've got the guns; now if you don't mind . . .

At that moment they are interrupted by the sound of a shotgun cartridge. The ancient butler has made an unexpected entrance. He is holding an equally ancient pair of hammer-lock guns (the ones from the catalogue) which he has obviously got little control of. The recoil knocks the butler clear off his feet. The second shot hits the ceiling covering the old boy in plaster.

We cut to a POV of the butler on his back. We see Dean looking down.

You want to be more careful, old fella. You very nearly took my man's head clean off with that. You all right, Kenny?

We cut to a shaking shell-shocked Gary, mouth agape. The gun shot has torn through the centre of Gary's bouffant hairdo leaving him with a pair of smoking Mickey Mouse ears. Shock prevents him from answering.



EDDY Ten grand blind.

We see Hatchet feeling his leg; he looks shifty


Barry zooms in again; he can see nothing.

HATCHET Twenty thousand open.

EDDY looks at his cards: he has a running flush.

EDDY Twenty thousand open.


Barrv sighs with relief and types in the relevant information.


Having received this information Hatchet pauses, then . . .

HATCHET I'll fold.

We hear lots of oohs and aahs. EDDY frowns slightly This is odd play. Rather than looking happy he has a discrete glance over his shoulder; satisfied that nothing can be amiss, he collects his money.

Don't go spending, that all at once, boy.


Barry's phone rings. He jumps in shock and fishes around to find it.


50 ~ 51


The Scousers reply; Gary is still unable to speak due to his shotgun experience.

DEAN I thought you said no staff, Bazza!

BARRY You get the guns?

DEAN You should see what they did to poor Gary.

Gary wanders past the phone box in a gormless state. He obviously doesn't know what day of the week it is.

DEAN Gary, get back into the van!

Barry frowns down the telephone. Yeah, yeah, we got 'em.

BARRY Good. I'll speak to you later.

Barry clicks the phone off. Dean looks at Gary and raises his voice as if speaking to a deaf person.

DEAN Gary, Gary, if you can hear me, I think we better get you back in the van now, OK?

Dean takes his arm and guides him back into the van.


Stakes have increased dramatically. There is a pause as Frazer looks at his cards.

EDDY Twenty thousand open.

PHIL OK. My Doctor would beat me to a heart attack if he knew what was going on here. I fold.

HATCHET Got some cards there, boy? Thirty thousand. Back to you already Eddy?

Hatchet looks impatiently at the door.

EDDY Fifty grand.

Hatchet scours Ed's forehead. It is still dry.

HATCHET Eighty grand.


Barry, who is trying as hard as he can to see Ed's cards, frustratedly zooms in and out; eventually Ed raises them just enough; Barry jibs, hey bingo he sees Ed's cards!

Ed's got nothing but a pair of sixes. Barry excitedly starts tapping away.



EDDY One hundred grand.

FRAZER Hold on fellas, I know . . .

HATCHER (interrupts j I know you're not in, which means nobody cares what you know. Two hundred and fifty.

Hatchet and EDDY minutely study each other's hairlines, waiting for a nervous droplet to appear. Sweat breaks; a drop on Ed's forehead, fills frame. Slowly we follow a droplet's journey coursing down Eddy's brow Eventually this is met by a large unblinking eye, at this point the pause is broken.

EDDY That is quite a raise, one hundred and fifty on my hundred.

HATCHET Yes . . . and is there something else you want to say? EDDY

As you know, this puts us in an awkward position. I don't have enough to continue.


CROUPIER We will have to see both your cards if no one loans EDDY the money to continue. It's a loan or we see both your cards.

Silence follows. A lot of nose scratching and examining of imaginary dirty ftngernails spreads contagiously throughout the remaining company.

It doesn't look . . .

HATCHET (interrupts) I will.

EDDY You will what?

HATCHET I will loan you the money.

Silence. The sweat bead reaches the bottom of Ed's chin, trembles for a second, then unattaches itself. Very slowly it falls. We follow its long silent journey. Eventually it is greeted by the back of Ed's cards. It explodes dramatically in sound and vision, symbolizing this worrying news.

EDDY I think I would rather just turn them over.

HATCHET I am not interested in what you would rather; I want to keep going. I am also offering you the money, so we don't have to turn them over because you can borrow.

EDDY I need two hundred and fifty grand.

HATCHET No, you need five hundred grand to see me.

Ed's face is now awash, busily blistering with sweat.

EDDY That's if I want to see you.

HATCHET Well, you're going to have a problem carrying on, aintcha.

The pause is painful.


CRUOPIER You can still fold.

EDDY doesn't like the sound of this. There is sympathy in her voice. Harry looks sharply through narrowed eyes at the croupier; the croupier pleads with Eddy.

EDDY I'll see ya.

HATCHET For half a million?

EDDY Unless you are going to accept twenty quid.

HATCHET And still got a sense of humour. That's not monkey nuts son; you can still fold. (Pause) OK, before I loan you this, I expect, if you lose of course, my money back within a week, Crystal? That's Sunday, OK?

These last few words echo in the distance of Ed's mind (and ours). He is committed, but has now left the world of the conscious. Hatchet turns over the first card; it's a seven. EDDY ushers him on; another seven, it looks as though he will have three; then the third: it's a four. There is an anti-climatic silence. After a loud pause . . .

CROUPIER Is that it?

* Cut from completed film.


FRAZER He was bluffing!

Hatchet looks content and rather nonchalant.

HATCHET Let's see your fucking cards.

Nobody is impressed by Hatchet's cards; all eyes fall on EDDY expectantly We crash in to Ed's pupils with a loud swoosh. They contract to the size of pinheads. His world has changed for ever.


EDDY (voice-over) I knew he was bluffing, but somehow the worst card player round the table had fucked me like a frozen virgin with a pair of sevens. A series of blows to my head with a baseball bat would have been greeted with a grin compared to this. Ten minutes earlier, I was two hundred thousand pounds richer; now I owed half a million.


Harry approaches Ed and whispers in his ear.

HATCHET I know your friends are responsible for most of that cash, so I'll give you all a week to find it. After that, I'll take a finger off each of you and your friend's hands for each day that passes without payment; and when you have all run out of digits, then who knows what?

Ed gets up. We stumble with him in slow motion. He is hardly able to stand. He wobbles over to the door. Harry continues to talk over the top.

Business is business, and I am good at making mine work. I like your dad's bar, JD's, so don't get clever or lethargic. If you can't pay in a week, a few fingers and a bar for starters.

Ed stumbles out of the door, doubles up and vomits all over the f door.


Ed has made his way into the bar. All his friends have fallen asleep. One of Bacon's eyes opens to see Ed cleaning himself up.

BACON This doesn't look good.

The others wake on this statement. We cut between the lads and their frozen reaction.


EDDY (voice-over) I then explained the unfortunate position we were in. Harry was going to start sizing up all our fingers in a week, 'cause he knew there was no way I could raise that kind of money on my own. Harry saw it as their money on the table so it was also their debt off the table. I hate to admit it but I could have kissed the old bastard for that. If I said I wanted to settle this debt on my own it would have been a lie.


EDDY Listen, I wish he would let me settle it on my own.

Tom drops his drink and rushes Eddy.


TOM I'll kill him!

BACON (intercepts Tom) Stop fucking around, Tom, and think. What are we going to do?

SOAP What's all the fuss about Harry? Why don't we just boycott the payment?

They all look at Soap like he is mad.


BACON (voice-over) Let me tell you about Hatchet Harry. Once there was this geezer called Smithy Robinson who worked for Harry. It was rumoured that he was on the take. Harry invited Smithy round for an explanation. Smithy didn't do a very good job. Within a minute Harry lost his temper and reached for the nearest thing at hand, which happened to be a fifteen-inch black rubber cock. He then proceeded to batter poor Smithy to death with this; that was seen as a pleasant way to go . . . Hence, Hatchet Harry is a man you pay if you owe.

EDDY I'll think of something, don't worry.


Ed, who looks like he is close to suicide, has developed a two-day stubble and his eyes have disappeared into black sockets. He stumbles along the street with a bottle of scotch poking out of a pocket. He stops outside JD's, looks at the entrance and decides not to go in.


INT. SLOANES' SITTING ROOM - DAY The ridiculous door-bell horn blows.

J Who the hell's that. It's only twelve.

WINSTON Use that cage, that's what it's there for.

WILLIAM (off) Who is it?

PLANK (off) Plank, open up.

This is done without the use of the steel-caged security door.

This weed is getting quite a reputation, you know, fellas. Gloria remains motionless in her chair. Plank waves his hand about in a sort of `how you doing' way to everyone and goes to take a seat. At the last minute, poised like he is sitting on a potty he realizes he is about to sit on this girl.

Jesus! Never saw you there. Hello, love. Enjoying yourself?

Gloria doesn't respond. Plank waves his hand over her face. Still no response. Plank looks around for some acknowledgement.

Is she, er, compus?

WINSTON (doesn't look up) What do you think?

Plank takes a close look at the girl.



Plank jumps back, completely taken by surprise, knocking over a pedestal of shoe boxes stacked up against a wall, full of fifty-pound notes.

PLANK Fuck me!

Charles, pissed off, looks at William like it's his fault.

CHARLES Fod God's sake.

WILLIAM Clean that up, Charles.

CHARLES Sod you, you clean it up.

PLANK Sorry fellas, but that stupid cow!

WILLIAM Never mind, could you please just sit down and stay out of the way.

WINSTON Anyway, how much do you want?

PLANK (trying to look like the money hasn't had an impact on him) I am after a half weight.

WINSTON That's one and a half thousand. Pass those scales, Willie, and sort out the gear, Charlie. Any chance of seeing your money?


Cut to Bacon, Soap and Tom sitting and talking in the back of JD's bar. They don't look a lot better than Ed.

BACON The odds are one hundred to one so all we need is five grand.

SOAP I would rather put my money on a three-legged rocking horse. The odds are a hundred to one for a good reason, BACON . . . it won't win. So where is Ed with all the bright ideas?

BACON At the bottom of a bottle and has been for two days; it's hit him hard.

SOAP It's hit us all hard!

BACON Yeah, but he has got to tell his Dad he is about to lose his bar.

Tom, who has not really been listening, suddenly interrupts.

TOM Listen to this one then; you open a company called the Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club. You take an advert in the back page of some gay mag, advertising the latest in arse-intruding dildos, sell it a bit with, er . . . I dunno, `does what no other dildo can do until now', latest and greatest in sexual technology. Guaranteed results or money back, all that bollocks. These dills cost twenty-five each; a snip for all the pleasure they are going to give the recipients. They send a cheque to the company name, nothing offensive, er, Bobbie's Bits or something, for twenty-five. You put these in the bank for two weeks and let them clear. Now this is the clever bit. Then you send back the cheques for twenty-five pounds from the real company name, Arse Tickler's Faggot Fan Club, saying sorry, we couldn't get the supply from America, they have sold out. Now you see how many of the people cash those cheques; not a single soul, because who wants his bank manager to know he tickles arses when he is not paying in cheques!

There is a long pause while BACON considers this.

BACON So how long do you have to wait 'till you see a return?

TOM Probably no longer than four weeks.

BACON A month? So, my friend, what fucking good is that, if we need it in six . . . no, five days?

TOM Well, it's still a good idea.

SOAP Listen to this one . . .


We see the back of a head.

DOG So do you know these geezers well?

PLANK Well enough. I have been buying gear off one of them for a couple of years.

DOG What they like then?

PLANK Poofs. Nothing heavy, four public school guys. Soft as shite.


Soap is finishing off his suggestion for raising money.

SOAP And you keep all the money'

Pause. BACON and Tom frown at Soap.

TOM I have heard some fucking stupid ideas in my time but yours makes Bacon's sound inspired.


Ed fumbles with his keys at his front door. He enters his house in a sort of zombie state, takes off his jacket and opens the cupboard doors. He hangs his coat up (it promptly falls off" the hanger) and he collapses in a pile on the floor. The cupboard doors now being open, he can clearly hear next door's discussion. We track in very slowly on Ed.

PLANK They ponce around in funny hippie clothes all day, talking bollocks. They're just good at growing weed, that's all, and business has got bigger than what they can keep up with.


SOAP If you're so fucking clever why don't you come up with a suggestion?

BACON I am thinking, I am thinking.


DOG (off) Listen, they can't be all stupid if they got a container load of cash sitting in shoe boxes, a skip-load of Class A gear and you don't think there is anybody sensible involved.

We reach the end of our track. Ed's head is on a pitiful angle in full close-up. It straightens and his dark eyes widen immediately on this news.



What about security?

PLANK There's one steel gate as you go in but they never lock it.

DOG What do you mean, never? Well what have they got it for, then?

PLANK I must have been there fifty times, it's never been locked; they're not suspicious. Everybody who goes there are toffs. They're all into that karma crap: `If I don't harm nobody, nobody harms me' stuff.

DOG Is there no way they can get back to you?

PLANK Even if they could they'd be too shit scared. They have got no muscle; they're gutless faggots.

66 ~ 67


Barry and Harry are talking. Harry is polishing a shotgun. It is very different in appearance to the hammer-locks.


Is Big Chris on his way?

BARRY Should be here any minute. I think you're making a mistake, Harry. That's a lot of money for Chris to be running after. I wouldn't trust him to bring it back here.

Hatchet's speech is laced with cut-aways of Big Chris in action, and on the ascent (with Little Chris) of Hatchet's stairs.


HATCHET (voice-over) What do you know about Chris, eh? You put Big Chris on a job and he will make sure it gets done, no matter what's in his way. His dad used to collect debts and his dad before that, and that monster of a boy will after he has gone. It seems that the Almighty himself requested them to collect debts for eternity and not to fear knocking on old Nick's door himself, if he was behind on his payment. But he has never nicked a picker in his life. Straight as an arrow and as strong as the bow that fired it. If you dropped your tenner he would search till he found ya . . . the only problem is he isn't stable, has a temper like a runaway train, and he hits twice as hard. Heaven protect anyone who touches that boy, not that the boy needs protecting.

We see Big Chris walking up the stairs. He reaches the top and knocks on the door.


Big Chris is sitting in front of Hatchet, Barry behind Chris.


Want a drink?

BARRY Hello son, would you like a lolly?


Piss off you nonce!


Oi, watch it! No thanks Harry, we are both all right. Nice shooter.

HATCHET Like it? One of a pair, Holland and Holland. Here, you want to hold it?


Nah, not my thing, thank you, Harry. Business good? I imagine that's what I am here for.

Harry leans the gun against the side of the desk and takes a seat, does a breast-stroke movement to clear his desk of all the sexual debris, takes a big breath of air and begins.


I want you to forget about any other debts at the moment; there are fresher fish to fry!


Go on.




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