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.
get your fingers out of my soup!
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?
when the old bastard is not playing cards he's chasing a thousand debts that ill-fated individuals owe for an array of reasons.
that's going on optimism.
you're not funny tom; you're fat and look as though you should be funny, but you're not.
tom, you're all heart.
what sort of a pub is this then?
this is the english-brazil game, isn't it?
what's all the fuss about harry? why don't we just boycott the payment?
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?
it's hit us all hard!
listen to this one . . .
and you keep all the money'
if you're so fucking clever why don't you come up with a suggestion?
well, what do you want us to do about it?
hitler didn't look all that.
what was that, armed? what do you mean, armed? armed with what?
guns! you never said anything about guns. a minute ago this was the safest job in the world, now it's turning in to a bad day in bosnia . .
and what exactly?
carrying them. they could all be carrying them for what we know.
oh, you assume, do ya? what do they say about assumption being the brother of all fuck-ups?
well, excuse me, brother, mother or any other sucker, doesn't make any difference, they are still fucking guns, and they still fire fucking bullets!
where did you get those from, a museum?
drachmas, i hope. i would feel safer with a chicken drumstick. they could do more harm than good.
ladies, if you don't mind, back to a more important issue. we've only got two real guns . . . apparently that's what they are. we find a good place to hide next door. when it sounds like the right time, we jack in the box, look nasty and stuff, cocoon them in gaffer tape, then we nick their van and swap the gear into a new van and then bring it back here. as long as we are all out of our hiding places quickly, it's the last thing they'll expect. if tom and anyone else feels like kicking them around a bit i am sure it won't do any harm. a bit of pain never hurt any one if you know what i mean . . . also, i think knives are a good idea, you know, big fuck-off shiny knives, the ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. knives are good because they don't make any noise, and the less noise the more we're likely to use them. that'll shit 'em up and make us look like pros.
where the fuck are they going? to butcher a sheep? i thought this was a robbery.
what are you doing, ed?
no i fucking don't! you can't make a cup of tea, edward.
and look what happened to that.
when the bottle in my arse has contracted i'll let you know.
you think it's a good idea taking it back to yours?
what's left over?'
what about all the gear?
i would take a pain in the arse for half a million.
tom, the fatter you get, the sadder you get.
six.
twelve.
er, well, twelve.
how the fuck should i know?
the money, the gear!
ok, don't panic; let's think about this.
i hope this is the right move.
you what? what are you on about?
well, what's going on?
you did take care of the guns, didn't you, tom?
i don't think we will take the risk for seven hundred quid.
what do you mean?