John, Malcolm and others in “Rotten”

Ooh, naughty, naughty. This will do very nicely for me and the missus. But what'll the kiddies wear?

Microphone.

I only sing out of tune.

Fucking hell! Pillock!

Ladies! Pretend you're on stage, and just sing along. Otherwise Steve Jones here's gonna beat the bloody daylights out of you.

I don't think so.

We'll see. [Malcolm starts playing Alice Cooper's I'm Eighteen]

Oh, Alice. My mum loves him. [Sings along out of tune and then falls down when song's over] What is it? Bunch of morons or what? No future for John, is it? Uh, God save Johnny, Humpty Dumpty Johnny. We all fall down left and right. Blue suede, white suede... [Blows raspberry] brothel creeping bastards! I'm a boy. No, I'm a man. I'm eighteen, and I hate it! I hate it! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen! Nothing but a lowlife! I hate it! Fuck it! Hate it! Suck it! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen, and I hate it! Where's me shoes?!

Well, let's set up a rehearsal first, and then we can talk about your shoes.

Fuck that! [Throws mic on ground and walks away]

He's right. I don't think this is gonna work.

I thought it was interesting.

Maybe for a Christmas panto.

Why are you wasting my time?!

[Standing outside the Sex store] Open the door, please.

Do any of you imbeciles realise what's happening here? He is one of the greatest guitarists in all of England. And you are an untutored genius that, with the right guidance, could change the world.

[Laughs maniacally] You're a tosser.

Yes, I am. And I'm going to toss this boring, grey country with its corrupt Establishment right on to its inbred, self-important arse.

Now, who wants to toss with me? One rehearsal.

I'm game.

It will be a chance to hear England's greatest guitarist.

May as well join the tossers.

Excellent. I'll set it up.

And get me those shoes.