[Shouts to Wayne] Oi-oi, London! What's happenin'? Owt you can't handle, send 'em up to me. [Wayne returns to the lads.]
Not much joy out there, Oz. See, they're Norwgeian, ain't they, and you know what your only point of reference is when you're Norwegian, don't ya?
Open deck sarnie, ain't it?
BomberThey're Danish.
Bomber
Danish.
Well, that's probably why they're a bit sticky, then, innit?
RRonnie
Sorry to interrupt, but I can see you're busy.
SSid
[Pulls out a dictaphone] Have you lads got a few words to say to the press?
[Scoffs] Aye, yes. I've got two, and the second one's "off".
Bomber
Go on and beat it. We're in enough trouble because of you buggers.
RRonnie
We know about that, but we want to help you lads.
Here, you wouldn't happen to know the Norwegian for "Can I get into your knickers?", would you? [Chuckles]
SSid
Look, the more you stall us, the more difficult it's gonna be for you in the end.
Look, look. [To Wayne] Gan have a swim. [Wayne walks off. To the journalists] Look, that rubbish in the papers wasn't true, right? It was a load of crap, alright? We're not bank robbers, man, for Christ's sake!
RRonnie
Lovely, we wanna believe that too, so we can write spoilers on that crap Nick Wheeler wrote.
SSid
So, just tell us who you really are and what you're doing here, and we'll all go home. [Holds his dictaphone right in Oz's face]
Just mind yer own business! [Shoves the dictaphone away.]
RRonnie
Hey, hey, you're not helping us, son!
Bomber
Look, boyos, what that bloke wrote was a load of cobblers. We know it, so why should we have to prove it to you?
SSid
So we can deny it on your behalf.
[Returns] Oh yeah? So the other mob can deny it again, and erm, it's a vicious circle, innit?
'Ere, I've had enough of these bastards! [Snatches the dictaphone from Douglas] I'm gonna bury them in the sand, head first, eh?
RRonnie
Hey, hold on, hold on.
Head first! [Takes the tape out of the dictaphone and throws it away, before throwing the dictaphone away.]
RRonnie
Here, hold on, son!
RRonnie
We can always head back to England and write you up as holidaying scroungers from the dole queue!
SSid
It's all right! It's all right, it'll probably take a day or two to realise it's all in your own... [Turns round and sees Bomber stood up and glaring down at him.] ...Come on, Ronnie! [The two journalists run away.]
Bomber
Remind me not to buy the English papers when I get home!
[Head in hands] Dear me, I thought I'd ne'er thought I'd see the day I'd be glad I couldn't get a fry-up! [Coughs loudly. Moxey, also hungover, joins them. Oz laughs] Don Juan! [Barry stirs his coffee noisily.] D'yer have to do that? D'yer have to do that... so loud?
Ah, sorry. [Takes the spoon out and taps the top of his mug a few times. Oz winces.]
Bomber
Oh, what was that bloody stuff we were drinking last night?
Never mind what we were drinking, it was what them bastard groupies was guzzlin' in that done all the damage! [Reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money.] I've got about three pound left.
Maybe we should rob a payroll wagon after all. [Carlos brings Moxey a coffee.]
That remark is in very poor taste, if you don't mind me saying so, Moxey. If it wasn't for people like you glamourising criminal activity, we wouldn't be pestered by the press, would we? Or exploited by those vacuous females last night.
That didn't stop ye stickin' yer heid in the door, did it? See if there was any exploitin' to be done, eh?
Bomber
Well, if we can't go out, and we can't stay in, there's not much point in being here, is there?
Nah. We're not tourists. We're not workers. We're trapped. We're in limbo!
They divvn't limbo here, man. They flamenco. [Chuckles, then coughs.]
Bomber
Barry's got a point though, eh? Leisure without graft has got a pretty hollow ring.
Well, none of this is actually helping to decide what we're gonna do today though, is it? [Gets out of his chair to go to the breakfast buffet] Don't think I can face another day of sunlight, sangria... [Clutches his stomach] ...or food, either. [Carefully sits back down.]
I've just had an absolutely brilliant idea. Why don't we hire a couple of cars and hit the road? Eh? Toddle off down to Gibraltar, it's not far you know, border's open now. What do you think?
Bomber
There'd be cheap British beer, duty frees, and today's papers too.
Papers are still a sore point, you know, Bomb.
Aye, g'wan, I'm up for it. I've alwayd wanted me photo taken with them... with them baboons.
Right... [Gets some money from his pocket.] Here is my contribution. I suggest you three pool your resources as well. I'll go and wake Wayne up. [Gets up.] If he's interested, I'll get a hire car brochure in Reception. [Leaves the bar.]
I wonder if they do a five-seater Porsche?
Go 'round to The Office? You sure that's a good idea now they know who we really are?
Bomber
Oh, I dunno. Ally said they'd still make us welcome. Apparently, they understood we're victims of a press smear. In fact, they symphathise with us.
Aye, might be some money in it for us, an' all. A few little jobs.
[Scoffs] Probably want us to double-glaze their houses with bulletproof glass.
Bomber
Don't suppose there'd be any harm in it. Nothing to lose now. Our stigmas have been cleansed.
Howay, Mox, man! We didn't give your name to the paper! As far as Terry Leather or anybody else is concerned, you're still a man of mystery.
Right, lads. Listen, we'll just play it cool, right? See what they want, and if we don't like the smell of it, we'll politely decline. Okay? [Around the corner from The Office, they spot someone on the roof with a long-lens camera taking photos of them.]
Oh, another bloody journalist! [The lads rush through a door and confront the photographer. Oz snatches the camera]]
Just... calm down! [Oz doesn't listen, he throws the camera off the roof.]
[To the 'photographer'] When are you bastards gonna stop pickin' on wor, eh?
Yeah! Why don't yer leave us alone, you shifty sod? We ain't done nuthin'!
Which particular comic do you work for, anyway? [The 'photographer' takes out his Metropolitan Police ID badge]
BBritish Detective
Shall we say the Police Review?
[Takes the ID badge and examines it.] What, you're the Old Bill, are ya?
BBritish Detective
Scotland Yard Surveillance Squad. And if this wasn't Spain, Albert Arthur Moxey, alias Brendan Mulcahy, arsonist and absconder, your arse would be well and truly nicked!
Bomber
Off limits, boyo.
Oh, I'm not so sure, Bomb. I mean, at Ally's party, you know, in Geordieland, I definitely got a flash off that one.
Bomber
You mess around with her and bollocks it up for the rest of us, you'll have more than a flash off me, Wayne!
Eh? Don't sermonise me, Bomb! You're not past a bit of lechery yourself. I saw you the other night, down the casino. Two young travel agents from Preston, eh? [Chuckles]
Bomber
Nothin' I did with them is gonna come back on us lot. [Quiet for sternly] Off limits!
[Now on the terrace] Mornin', lads.
[Hard at work on the tiling in the pool with Neville] Hello.
[Stops what he's doing] Right, I'll not be long.
[Inspecting the lads' work] Eee, mind, this place is comin' on. You'll be finished here soon.
[Chucking rocks from the deep end to the terrace] Aye, we divvn't hang aboot, us lot, yer kna.
Er... what are you ganna do when the job's finished, Oz?
Me? I don't kna. S'pose I'll have to gan back and... face the grim reality of Margaret Thatcher's Britain. [Has a swig of his beer.] Unless your Ally coughs up a finishin' bonus, like. Then I can postpone it... for a week.
An', er... take off somewhere, like?
Ah, well, me an' Barry had planned tae have a slow tovy back through France. But now with his, yer kna, fiancée, we've had to give La Français the big E, so to speak. So, I'll be on me own, as usual.
I'm... very sorry if my personal affairs have intruded on your plans, Oz(!)
Not my plans, pal. You were the one that wanted to gan an' see the shite hooses of the Loire.
'Ey, I've always fancied San Tropez, meself. I think there's more nightlife. An', I mean, well, it's more sophisticated than this, like, isn'it?
Oh, aye, yeah. Definitely. Give me San Tropez every time!
[Fanning himself with his hat] I envy Den, me. At this moment, he'll be sittin' in an English pub, murderin' an English pint.
You're a strange bloke, you are, Nev. Ever since I've known you, you've always wanted to be someplace else. There's people down here paid a fortune to enjoy this hot Spanish sunshine.
Bomber
Yeah, well he'd rather be drinking warm ale in some manky pub in Gateshead.
Yeah, but if he was there, then he'd wish he was here.
[Still smarting from being carried off by Bomber while in mid-conversation with Vicky the previous night] I reckon that Bomber's on Ally's payroll. Acting like my naffing chaperone. I was on with that Vicky last night, I'm sure I was.
Look, obviously the lass has problems, reet? Obviously, she's vulnerable that this point in time. Even to your transparent overtures. But it's not gonna do us much good, is it? An' it's not gonna do the lass much good if ye leap on her bones!
Oh, I see. So you've joined the moral majority, have you?
What is it with you, eh? I mean, yer nuts aren't gonna gan rusty down here, are they? I mean you've got Spanish boilers, French tarts, German tarts, Swedish tarts, Danish tarts, British tarts... I mean, from Málaga to Gibraltar, it's wall-to-wall totty. So why Vicky, eh? Is it the danger? Does the thought of gettin' yer knees shattered give yer a great big bonk on or summat?
[Gets out of his deckchair and puts his hat on] Right, lads. Shouldn't we be gettin' back to work?
What's all this? Are you deputy gaffer, or what?
No, it's just if we start a bit early, we can finish a bit early. Get a few jars in.
Aye, right. [Gets off the cooler he's been sat on. Bomber also gets up.]
Oh, by the way, the drinks are on Haze tonight. She's asked me, like, to ask you, to join us for cocktails at the Hollywood Bar in the port.
'Ey! Well done, Barry, you cracked it! What a strike, kid!
What are you talkin' about?
Barry an' Hazel invite us for cocktails. If any of you know cause, or just im-p-p-pediment ye are to declare it.
Don't be coy, son. An announcement is obviously imminent.
Yeah. Good lad, Barry. Have you got a date yet?
Look, I'm not getting engaged! Right? It's just that Hazel won some money at the casino last night and she wants us to celebrate.
Oh, er... £500, thereabouts.
Bomber
Blow me. She's an heiress! I'd shut the gate on that one if I were you!
[The lads are in the van driving to see Oz's son's show]
I can usually suss I bloke’s musical tastes, me.
Haddaway and bollocks, you’ve only known me for five bloody minutes lad. There’s no way you can tell what I like to listen to.
Ok, I will, alright alright…Early Stones, The Clash, Clapton, and a sprinkling of C and W.
Ha ha, not far off the mark there!
He’s been in my gaffe, he’s been right through my CDs!
No I haven’t mate, no I haven’t. Alright then - Dennis.
Aretha, Marvin Gaye…and you’ve got a soft spot for Rod Stewart, but only when you’re at the karaoke pissed!
Aye, I can’t argue with that young‘an!
Bomber
What about me?
Easy, you’re easy. Abba and Acker Bilk.
Yeah, morose music…The Smiths, The Cult, Depeche Mode…music to slit your wrist by!
No, nooo…these days Neville likes to watch Destiny’s Child videos!
[The lads are in the van driving home, Oz in a touchy mood]
He's not gay. He thinks he is, but he's not.
Well, it’s just like exhibitionism, isn’t it? Like a cry for attention.
Bomber
Would it matter if he was?
He’s not! He can’t be! There's never been a huckle in the Osbourne family and we can trace our lineage all the way back to the Second World War. Now, end of subject. Right?
It's always been the tunnel, not the funnel.
[Barry on the phone to his attorney]
AAttorney
I got the testimony back from the UK. It’s all good. Local cops confirm this guy Kadi’s a piece of work and spoke very highly of you…Inspector Colin Bishop…
AAttorney
Yeah, “No way you’re a bad guy, you’re just a radish who got rich.” I’m not familiar with the expression?
AAttorney
Barry, you know I’m going to bat for you. We’ll speak Friday.
Bomber
Yeah, what?
I don’t believe it. Colin Bishop. I’ve known him for years. We’ve played golf together. He’s had dinner in my house on more than one occasion…and he calls me a radish!
We’re not bothered about that man!
Barry man, what about the charges?!
What about the charges man?!
Oh you’ll probably be free and clear. I’m the one who’s going to fall on his sword…[angrily to Oz] ever since your funeral, my life’s been unravelling like a ball of knitting wool!
We’re gonna set a honey-trap lads, get Granger in a sexually compromising position.
Bomber
How are we going to do that?
Well, Nev’s got a fantastic in at the brothel hasn’t he, he’s almost got a season ticket doon there... so we’ll get his lass, Kelly-Anne, to set it up, right, get Granger in a bubble bath with two or three tarts doing unspeakables to ‘em...
Every chance you get, you drag her into the conversation, don’t yer, just so you can slag her off, why don’t you keep your face out of my life! [storms out]
Well I still think it’s a canny idea!
[On the journey to pick up the bath]
Right! Let’s play Road Kill Cricket!
Bomber
How’s that work?
Anything dead your side of the road you score runs, anything their side they do!
One for each leg: a dead chicken’s worth two, that goat would have been four if we’d started.
So a centipede’s a ton, right?
No insects! You’re being silly now Wyman.
That’s a tricky one Oz, it doesn’t have any legs but it is an animal so it should qualify…
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet · 320 quotes
