Look at me.
I said look at me.
Danny!
Danny, it's me, mate.
Your old mate Mickey!
Here, Jack, have a look.
You'll never guess who it is.
It's only young Danny.
- Our Danny?
- Yeah.
Danny?
What the fuck's he doing
in a motor with Tony and Pat?
Yes, Dan. What are you doing
in a motor with Tony and Pat?
I thought you had more sense than that.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Don't know no Tony.
That was me mate Jeff.
Are you telling us that ain't Tony T?
Jack, what do you reckon?
Erm...
Don't know, Mickey.
I shot him in the face.
Oh...
No.
Oh, mate, what a fucking mess.
I'm so sorry, Dan. I feel so embarrassed.
How about the other geezer in the back?
- Paul.
- Paul.
Paul, Paul, Paul.
- Jack.
- Yo.
- Did you shoot the other geezer in the...
- Yep.
Shot him in the face, too.
I don't know what to say, mate.
Feel terrible. Terrible.
Look at your motor.
I've left it in a right
two and eight, ain't I?
- It's all right.
- No it ain't, Dan.
- Because there's blood.
- Brains.
And brains.
And that ain't never gonna come out.
Never.
Probably them, innit?
Right, Dan, listen we got to slip away.
But you be lucky, yeah.
- Right, Jack, let's crack on, son.
- Let's do it.
Third time lucky.
It was the end of an era.
Well, for them lot anyway.
For me, it was only the beginning.
But before the pills and the clubs,
the birds, the booze,
the torture and the tracksuits,
there was football.
And more importantly,
football-related violence.
Because as far back as I could remember,
I always wanted to be an hooligan.
Well, I suppose we'd better start
near the beginning.
School.
What a shithole. But we
made the most of it.
Oh, have a look. That's me there.
That's me best mate Fanta.
And this wanker is Mr Burroughs.
Something funny, Johnson?
No, sir.
Passing notes.
Come on then. Come up to the front.
We're all very keen to share the joke.
Yes, sir.
Ooh!
Like I said, wanker.
- It says that you had...
- To the whole class.
It says that you had Freddie Fitzpatrick
round your house for extra maths tuition.
Really, Johnson?
And that you made him watch
while you touched your willy.
And then bent him over
and tongued his butthole.
- Anything else?
- Yeah, there's a picture here and all.
Well, that's you, sir.
And that's obviously you, Freddie.
Johnson, you're going to end up
just like your father.
Now this didn't sound like
such a bad thing to me.
But I got the feeling he
meant it as an insult.
You wanna make one with me, son, do ya?
That's me old man, Danny Senior,
the fucking legend.
You want to make one with me?
Do you know who I am?
Do you know who I am?
What you looking at?
Come on then, oh, come on their attack...
It was a shame he had
to ruin the game, though,
because I wasn't a bad little player.
Right, it's fucking on now.
A scout from Man United came to our school
once and tried to get me to sign.
Done you a favour there, son.
That mob are never gonna
amount to nothing.
- Hold that, mush.
- Mr Johnson.
This is a school. Mr Johnson!
Yep, my old man loved football.
Never back down, son.
Do you hear me? Always stand your ground.
Stand your ground!
So I took a leaf out
the old man's book and said...
Fuck off, you two-bob slag.
Of course it turns out Burroughs
was fiddling Freddie Fitzpatrick after all.
And they told me
I could come back to school.
But fuck that.
Mr Johnson, due to your complete
lack of remorse for your crime
and your repeated failure to show any signs
of wanting to change your lifestyle,
I sentence you to five years.
Without possibility of parole.
Bailiff, take the prisoner down.
Five years.
He could have done it standing on his head.
Oh, yeah.
Order!
He ended up getting 30 years
for head-butting the bailiff,
spitting on the clerk of the court,
booting this ginger bird in the face
and assaulting the judge.
You fucking knob. You fucking knob!
The newspaper said he was the first man in
history to make a judge eat his own syrup.
Eat the fucking wig!
Fucking legend.
And with me still a boy,
I was sent to live with me granddad Albert,
while me old man was sent to do his bird.
- What time's dinner in this gaff, Fur Face?
- Keep moving, scumbag.
What the fuck's that all about then?
Now, now, 4737.
We don't want any trouble
like we had last year.
The boys here have all clubbed together.
Bought you a little hat, to say sorry.
Very well.
Happy birthday, 4737.
Enjoy your cake.
Baron.
Oi, oi, Granddad. What's happening?
What's for dinner? I am
fucking Hank Marvin.
What the fuck's all this then, Granddad?
What the fuck's all this?
What you talking about,
you dozy little mare?
I told you, I'm moving
to Australia with Cyril.
Since when?
I told you months ago
to get your own place.
What you been doing all this time, hmm?
Sitting on your arse smoking weed
with that ginger faggot.
I thought I could just live here.
I told you, Dan, I sold the place.
Moving to warmer climes.
Nothing left for me around 'ere.
What am I supposed to do?
Time to grow up, son.
Make something of your life.
Do the fucking collar, get some reddies.
So what you gonna do then?
Don't take this the wrong way, mate,
but recently I've been starting to think
there's got to be something more than this.
You ain't gonna get a job, are you?
No, what I'm saying is my old man
was a legend. A face.
Look at me.
You know, I want to be someone.
Want to be part of something.
Okay, here's another one. Oi, mate!
Fucking brilliant.
Yeah, this has been fun and all, mate, but I
gotta chip back home and pick up me stuff.
Oh, Dan, mate, why don't you
stay round mine a couple of days,
just until you get back on your feet?
No, don't worry about me, mate. I'm sweet.
This time next week
I'll bell you from me penthouse.
- Yeah?
- Yeah, fucking right, mate.
We'll have a proper party.
Birds, booze, the lot.
Oh, mustard, mate! Here we go.
Have a look. Oi, love!
Oh, fuck off, you pair of melts.
That's the oldest trick in the book.
Ooh!
Yeah, anyway, as I was saying, go get
your stuff and I'll meet you later on.
We can have a few bevvies.
Celebrate your independence.
On me. Fancy an ice cream?
- Yeah, go on then, mate.
- What flavour?
- Anything. Don't get lemon.
- All right.
Oh, my fucking God!
It's her off the telly.
Oh, shit. Yeah, it is.
Time to go, 4737.
You're a free man today.
Baron!
You take care of yourself then, Dex.
Don't you be getting
in no more trouble now, you hear.
Fuck off, screw.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Barry, it's happened again.
Fucking how many times? I'm on fire again!
Fucking burning!
Chop, chop. We're gonna nip through
Harry Brown's tunnel. It's quicker.
Yeah, hello.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Karen! Karen!
You called me, babe? What's the matter?
Get our fucking kids out of here.
Go round your mum's and don't come back
until I call you. All right?
Oh, shit! Quick, kids! Get your fucking
coats on, we're going to your gran's!
For fuck's sake, not again!
I told you, "Never call my mobile."
I got kids, for fuck's sake.
You wanker!
But now they're out the way.
Let's do this.
Hola, my little Spanish prince.
Tickle my front bottom, mate.
What?
Oh, yeah.
I'm getting huge for you.
Pablo, I want you to fuck me
like you did in Torremolinos.
Do you remember, boy?
Baron!
Who the fuck is that?
It's Dex.
Who?
- It's Dex.
- Hold on a minute.
- Dexy boy.
- Baron!
Finally let you out, did they?
Oh, yeah, I'm out!
And I'm coming for you!
Oh, yeah. I think you'll find a
lot's changed since you went in.
Oh, yeah?
Yeah!
Your mob's a fucking joke, son.
Oh, and I've got top firm now.
You're gonna get cut, Baron.
And it's gonna be me that does it.
Fucking hell.
You couldn't hit water
if you fell out a boat.
I'm gonna slit you open like an envelope.
You couldn't afford the postage.
Yeah, I can.
And I'll send it recorded delivery and all.
In that case,
I won't be here to sign for it.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck you, Baron!
Fuck it!
- You sure about this, mate?
- 'Course, mate. It's a shortcut.
What's the matter? You shook?
Well, yeah, a bit.
Come on, you melt.
What's there to be scared of?
Well, him for one.
Stay with me if you like.
Come on, tubby bollocks.
Every time I stroke 'em.
Come on, Dan.
What did I tell you, it
ain't that bad, is it?
All right. That's Muggy Keith, that is.
Sweet.
Now I knew we shouldn't have
gone down that tunnel.
But little did I know what would happen now
would change my life forever.
You need to stop being such a pussy.
You're in safe hands.
I'm a boat mate.
Give me a cigarette.
Sorry, mate, we don't smoke.
We?
Fuck.
Well, give me your wallet
and I'll buy my own cigarettes.
I'd never been mugged before.
But in that moment I thought
what my old man had taught me.
Never back down, son!
Always stand your ground!
No!
What do you mean, "No"?
I mean no, Kojak.
Now if you want my wallet,
you're gonna have to come and take it.
You peel-headed Si.
It felt good. I felt powerful.
My old man was right.
Never back down. Never give 'em an inch.
Oh, I realised no one had ever
stood up to this guy before.
I saw the fear wash over him like a...
Oh, shit!
Now, you gobby little shite,
let's get something straight.
This ain't a skinhead. It's alopecia.
Yeah.
It's a medical condition.
- I've lived with this all my life.
- Yeah.
Look at it.
Have you any idea what it's like
growing up a hairless child?
No.
Hairless!
Look, I'm really sorry, mate.
Too late now.
Now you're gonna get cut.
You, me.
Let's fucking have it, yeah?
Fucking have it!
Get me outta here.
Yeah, you better run.
Oi, mate. Mate.
Thanks for back there.
I could have handled it,
but me pal left me high and dry.
Was that that ginger boy I saw
at the other end of the tunnel?
Yeah. Yeah, was he all right?
No. He was crying.
And some geezer was stroking him.
How's the nose, mate?
It's all right.
Took me stuff, though.
Everything I own was in that bag.
Hold still.
You'll live.
You did well back there, son.
You stood your ground.
And that's the most important thing.
Thanks.
I'm Dexter.
Yeah, I know.
I'm Danny.
'Course I knew who he was.
Dad told me stories all about Dex
and his crew when I was a kid.
They were the hardest
football firm in the country.
And Dex, he was their top boy.
Come on.
This is me.
Oh, right. Yeah.
Well, I guess I'll see
you around then, yeah?
- Danny.
- Yeah.
Do you want to come for a pint?
Yeah, mate, yeah. Sweet.
Come on then.
What else was
I gonna do on a Saturday?
What an honour.
I was walking into the legendary Iron Hoof
with the man of the hour.
I felt drunk.
Oh, my head was spinning.
This is what I'd been searching for,
to belong.
Everyone wanted to talk to Dex
and because I was with him,
they all wanted to talk to me.
It was like a family.
And he introduced me to everyone.
There was Dexy and me
and there was Billy Bo Bells.
Welcome home, Dex. Hold the bells.
Scrimshank Stanley.
Looking good, son.
Knees Up Leroy Brown
and his half-brother Andy Old Iron.
Come toilet, got something for you.
His "business associate", Little Boy Blue,
and his boys Nicky Mince Pies
and Freddy the Nonce.
All right, Dex. Who's your little mate?
Then there was Jimmy Two Times.
He got that name
because he said everything twice.
Gonna get the currant bun, currant bun.
A lot of the lads got their names that way.
Like Pete the Killer.
Took care of that thing for you.
Mike the Rapist.
There you go, ladies.
One for you, and one for you.
His sister, Rita the Man Eater.
And John the Cunt.
But they were just extras.
In the back room I was about to meet
the real top boys.
The ones that struck fear into the hearts
of every other football hooligan
in the country.
The Factory.
You ready?
Oh, he didn't need to ask.
I'm ready.
Now you're gonna be all right tonight
because you're with me.
You do not want to be in there on your own.
Understand?
Welcome to my world, son.
- All right, Dex?
- Hello, mate.
What the fuck is this?
I thought it was meant to be a party!
Too fucking right!
Midnight!
Midnight, back in the day
he was the original black hooligan.
Come on then, you fucking two-bob tossers.
In fact, I think he was
the only black hooligan.
I'm gonna chop off your blood clot!
He made a name for himself
when he ran onto the pitch in a cup final.
Come on, lads. Let's fucking have 'em.
And tried to kidnap Portsmouth's mascot,
the Pompey pigeon, with a homemade shank.
Get back. I'll kill him.
I'll fucking kill him!
Fucking legend.
Dex. Welcome home.
You're looking sweet, son.
This is all for you, bruv.
- Who's your mate?
- It's the boy Danny.
All right, Dan?
Anything you want, son, birds, booze, bit
of the other, just let me know, all right?
- Sweet.
- Hey, Dexy!
Hold on, mate. I'm coming over.
Trumpet.
Part of the new breed of football hooligan.
Prides himself on the fact he's
never even been to a football match.
Never misses a tear-up and he's seen
Green Street 2 over 140 times.
Oh, I'm telling you, mate,
it's better than the original.
All right, crack on, son.
But he's a fucking thief.
And he'll nick anything
that's not nailed down.
I'll bell you Thursday, Chelle.
All right, Trumpet.
Thank Christ you're back, Dex.
Things have been all too quiet,
but now the King's returned,
we can have a proper tear-up.
Give me a chance
to break in my new chopper.
It's good to see you, Trumpet.
Who the fuck are you?
That's Danny.
Say the word, Dex,
and I'll carve your name in his boat.
Well, I appreciate the thought, Trumpet.
I really do.
But he's all right. He's with me.
Yeah?
Hold out your hand.
Eh?
Hold your fucking hand out
and let me see how old you are.
23, Gemini.
- Oh, he's good. That is good.
- Fucking sweet.
Fucking hell, that is unbelievable.
How did you do that?
A magician never reveals his secrets.
And by the way, you're one step away from
a free corn on the cob
at Papa Poulet's Chicken Palace.
That's a touch.
He's got my wallet, ain't he?
'Fraid so, son.
Weasel!
The thing about Weasel is
he didn't have the best start in life.
His mum had been having a fling
with a young boy called John,
but she had to break it off
when her fella got her pregnant.
To say young John took it badly,
would be a bit of an understatement.
Baby. Baby, baby, baby, relax.
Relax, baby. Relax, baby. Baby.
I did this to prove how much I love you.
I love you, baby. I did
this for both of us.
Poor bastard never stood a chance.
He was a crackhead before he was even born.
Fucking result.
You all right, Dexy, mate?
You look a bit down.
No, I'm sweet, son. Sweet.
Look, I'm glad I got you on your own
because I want to talk to you
about my missus.
Why? What you heard?
Well, you took care of her
and that while I was inside.
Oh.
Right. Think nothing of it, bruv.
I don't want to seem ungrateful, mate,
but, as you know, I was a long time gone.
Too long, mate.
Fucking right too long.
And while I was inside I had one thing
on my mind and one thing only.
- The Baron.
- Baron.
Now he needs to get what's coming to him.
Yeah.
When I left we were the most violent,
blood-thirsty bunch of cunts in London.
Yeah.
Now tell me, Midnight, where do we stand?
Where do we stand?
When was the last time
we had a proper tear-up?
Funny thing is, mate, recently when we show
up for a ruck, we get a reception from plod.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
How long's that been going on?
- Don't know. A couple of years.
- Fucking filth.
Well, I'm here now.
We'll take plod by surprise.
When's the rest of the boys coming down?
Erm...
Well, this is it, mate.
What do you mean this is it?
Where's the old guard?
- Where's Bobby Iron?
- He got ironed out.
- By who?
- West Ham.
- The Irons?
- Yeah.
- What about Tommy Gun?
- Gunned down.
- By who?
- Arsenal.
What, the Gunners?
Next thing you'll be telling me, Midnight,
is Barry the Hammer got beaten to death
with his own hammer
on the steps of Upton Park!
- So you read about it then?
- No, I didn't fucking read about it, Midnight!
At least no one went down to Fulham, hey?
Cottaging.
You know, Fulham. Cottagers.
What do you know about the Cottagers, boy?
Erm...
Nothing.
It was just a joke, mate.
As you probably know by now
I weren't one for backing down,
but I weren't stupid either.
I knew who this was.
This was Bullet,
Dex's right-hand man and a total nutter.
First of all, I ain't
your fucking mate, boy.
And second,
the Cottagers ain't no joke.
You don't know you're born, do you?
- You ever been down there?
- What? The Cottagers?
Yeah. The big boys.
'Cause I have. I've been there.
We all have. Ain't we, boys?
Yeah!
Balls deep in shit.
Hands grabbing at you from all angles.
Faces screaming.
People you've never even met before
coming right in your face.
That's when you find out
who your mates are.
They're the ones who are right behind you.
Packed in. Tight.
That's what separates
us real men from little poofs like you.
So come on then, Dex, who's the dry lunch?
Drop him out, Bullet. He's just a kid.
Welcome home, son.
- Who the fuck are you?
- This is Bill.
Allo, allo, allo.
Pleasure to meet you at last, Dex.
- What's the problem, Dex?
- What's the problem, Dex?
- You're amongst friends now, mate.
- Am I?
'Course you are. This geezer's Old Bill.
He's been inside too long.
He's getting paranoid.
Dex, he's sweet, mate. Old Bill's been
following us about for a while now.
- How long?
- Couple of years.
Sorry. Yeah. Can't be too careful.
You understand.
Roger that. So, what were we talking about?
Rucks, was it?
I've seen nothing like it before.
It was fucking huge, mate.
Oh, fuck, come on, Trumpet,
we're gonna be late for work.
- What do you do?
- Florists.
- What, all of you?
- Yeah.
Obviously. Except for Bill of course.
Why? What do you do, Bill?
Why are you so interested in
what we all do? You undercover?
What?
'Cause if you are, you have to tell us.
It's the law.
I don't think it is, Weasel, mate.
So you know all about it then, do you?
- Cozzer.
- Actually, he's quite right.
Section 4, Paragraph 2 of
the Metropolitan Police Code of Conduct
states that an officer only has to
identify himself at the point of arrest.
Apparently.
I don't know how he does it.
He's a fountain of knowledge, this geezer.
Where do you get it all from?
He's bailed you out there, son.
That's one you owe him.
That's enough.
No one's going to work today.
Go home, sort yourselves out,
and meet back at my house.
Lively.
- Dex, mate, I don't...
- You don't what?
Nothing.
That's right, nothing.
My house, couple of hours.
- Savvy?
- Sweet.
- I feel rough.
- Get cleaned up back at mine.
- Thanks, Dex.
- And don't worry about Bullet.
He just don't like outsiders, that's all.
- Well, he seems to like Bill enough.
- Yeah.
Something not quite right about that one.
Yeah, I thought that and all.
I mean, you don't think he's...
I don't miss a trick, boy.
The geezer's undercover.
Undercover journo.
- Sharon!
- Who's that?
It's your husband.
Now don't you start crying, princess.
Dexy. Why didn't you call?
I must look terrible.
No.
You look beautiful.
I've missed you so much.
We've fucking missed you and all.
- Where is it?
- He's there.
Playing with his toys,
waiting to meet his daddy.
Well, go on then, come and say hello.
Go on, mate, it's all right.
Right.
My boy.
Apple didn't fall far from
the tree, did it, Dan?
Ah! It's like two peas in a pod, mate.
I know.
I used to sit and play with my
toys as well. All the time.
- Grab it for me, babe, I want to hold it.
- All right, babes.
You are his daddy.
His undisputed biological daddy.
Dex, you might as well
be looking in a mirror, mate.
Yeah, I know.
Two peas in a fucking pod.
Dan, mate. You don't mind
holding my kid for me, do you?
Oh, no, of course not, mate.
I'm just gonna go get some things
for later, you know what I mean?
Come on, babe.
- Hey, what's his name?
- It's fucking Curtis.
'Course it is.
Don't worry, babes.
Your room's just how you left it.
Baron.
Baron! Baron! Baron! Baron!
- Baron! Baron! Baron!
- Babe. Babe.
- Baron!
- Babe!
- Baron!
- Dexter!
What? What? What?
It's Sharon.
Right. Sorry, babe.
Sharon. Sharon.
Sharon.
Sharon.
That's my son.
That picture was taken of us
before I got sent down.
Oh, where is he, your son?
It was the mid '80s.
And we were in our prime.
No firm in London could touch us.
It was the last game of the season.
And we had one more firm to turn over.
Dexter!
- I'm calling you out.
- Well, here I am.
And we didn't think you'd show.
We've battered every firm in the country.
Why wouldn't we show up to school
a second-rate outfit like yours,
you two-bob shithead?
Well, you're in bandit country now!
There ain't no going back!
South London. I shit 'em.
I see you've brought your boy with you.
Now you mind he don't get hurt.
Shut up, you mug.
- You fucking little shit.
- You want some, Baron?
Come fucking get some!
Come on!
Dad! Dad!
Move.
Dad! Dad!
Dexter!
He'd be about your age now.
I swore that day I'd avenge my son's death.
And settle the score with the one person
I hold accountable.
Hello, Dexter.
Baron!
So, finally found your way home, did ya?
- I just had to pick up a present for ya.
- Oh, yeah?
I've a little surprise
waiting for you and all.
- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.
Don't waste my time, scum.
What do you want?
All right. Slow down, son.
Just a courtesy call.
Just to make sure
you ain't gonna bottle it tonight.
Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world.
I've been waiting a long time
to be in the same room as you.
Well, do try and contain yourself.
It's a gentleman's rendezvous this evening,
not Tottenham away.
You'll keep.
But when the time comes, Baron,
I'm gonna open you up like a village fete,
you saucy slag.
Dexy.
Don't bring another boy with ya.
Finished. Finished. Hang up. Hang up.
Fucking hell.
I'll get that, mate.
Oh.
You're the fucking butler now,
are you, lunch?
- Fucking mug.
- Exactly.
I'll stick the kettle on, Dex.
Oh, fucking sweet.
Nunchucks.
Quite a collection you got there, Dex.
I bet this lot has seen some action.
You're fucking right they have.
Ooh!
- This looks particularly nasty.
- Well, of course, it fucking is.
Dexter used that to stove in
Jimmy Higgins' head.
Look. You must have heard about that, Bill.
Yeah. I bet the gavvers would like
to get their hands on this bit of evidence.
Why are you so interested, Bill?
You writing a book, are ya?
Who brought the filth?
Come on. Who's the pig?
Finally, someone sees it.
Of course, I see it. I could smell it
as soon as I came down the stairs.
Weasel!
Look at the turnout
you've left all over my Persian.
- Fuck's sake!
- Oh, Weas!
I'm sorry, Sharon. Sorry, Dex.
Now get your shoes off
and take 'em outside.
Hello. Ooh!
Midnight.
Sharon.
- How's the little one?
- He's good.
Nice having his daddy in the house again.
I bet it is.
Hello, Sharon, love.
How do you take your coffee?
Black.
- Like her men. Hey, boys?
- Hey.
Sharon, do me a favour and fuck off.
I want to talk to the boys.
So I trust
you're all ready for the meet tonight?
We are now, mate.
You, too, Dan.
- Yeah, mate.
- Hold on, dry lunch.
You want to run with the foxes,
you got to get bloodied first.
What?
Now, Danny.
I want you to put your hands together
for my friend and yours,
Stanley.
What you going to do with that?
Oh, Jesus.
He won't help ya.
That's poison, that is.
Don't bottle it in front of your new mate.
Well, if you're gonna fucking do it,
then fucking do it.
All right, fuck it. Give it 'ere.
I'll do it myself.
Oh, my God.
Oh, you...
Oh, my goodness.
Well, he's ruined your grouting.
Dan, mate, are you done?
Yeah, mate.
Well, you're gonna laugh.
Want an ice cream, mate?
Birds'll love it.
Dex, mate, can you do me a favour, geez?
Mmm?
Well, anything. You're in the Factory now.
- Yeah.
- Sweet.
Congratulations.
Great. Can you...
Can you call me an ambulance?
Gentlemen! Gentlemen!
I'd like to thank you all for coming
and welcome ya
to the 25th annual meet of the Hooligan
Association of the United Kingdom.
- Come on!
- Yeah!
Right then. I wanted to open up the floor
to any new business.
Yeah. The honourable gentleman from
South of the River.
That's you, Slasher.
My friends,
I look around and I see a lot of new faces.
Some of which I've slashed.
Some of ya I look forward to slashing
in the seasons to come.
My fellow hooligans.
What I'm about to say concerns us all.
Who in this room
has got an autobiography coming out?
For fuck's sake.
This is what I'm talking about, Baron!
Order!
Sit down, Slasher.
What we have here is
what's known as market saturation,
hence forth all book releases
must be agreed to by myself forth...
Move!
Dexter. How lovely of you to join us.
I had to take one of mine to the hospital.
But don't worry.
What I got to say won't take long.
Oh, good.
Now there's over 4,000 Germans booked in
for Europe this summer.
And they're gonna steamroller us unless
all our firms go together.
With me as top boy.
Testing.
- One, two. One, two.
- Now in the past,
our firm has rumbled
every single one of you lot.
So I suggest it's me that leads the charge.
One minute, mate. Who the fuck are you?
I'm Dex.
Weetadex more like.
That's quite funny actually.
What firm are you anyway?
The Village People,
by the look of that moody Tash.
Have you not heard? The 1980s called.
They want their clobber back.
Go on, mate, take no notice of them.
Which outfit are you?
- The Hooligan Factory.
- Yeah.
The who?
- Anybody read that one?
- Nah!
Go on, then, Magnum PI.
What's your book called?
I don't have a book.
You want to take us on tour
and you don't even have a book?
You don't have a book? You mug.
What a mug!
Hey, you fucking crappy ugly bastard.
Go on, fuck off.
Dex. Dex, mate.
Why are you following me for, eh?
Didn't you hear 'em in there?
I'm a nobody. A fucking has-been.
You're just a fucking kid.
Go home, Dan. Just fucking go home.
Oi, Danny, mate.
You get lost on your way to your penthouse,
did ya?
You lemony fucking mug.
No, fuck this.
Yeah, jog on, you melt.
Babe. What's the matter?
You think I'm all right, don't ya, babe?
You're the bollocks.
You think?
Of course, I do, you silly sod.
You're a double hard bastard.
Always have been, always will be.
Now come on, get up.
There's someone here to see ya.
- Dex.
- Look, Dan, mate...
You came here, you should go first.
Look, mate, I just wanted to say sorry.
Me, too.
I shouldn't have gone off on you like that.
It was bang out of order.
Sweet. Let's forget about it then.
Water under the bridge.
So what do we do now, then?
It's just I've never really apologised
for anything before.
You know, we could hug.
Hmm.
Yeah. Yeah, we could do that.
- I've missed ya.
- I've missed ya, too, mate.
Yeah, that's my boy.
That's a good boy.
That's a good boy.
- That's a good boy.
- Erm...
That's good. Good boy.
Oh!
You're fucking killing
me, you pair of melts.
God.
Dex, you still want to get back on top?
More than anything.
Good. Because I've got a plan.
- Let's kit you out.
- Sweet.
- Nah. That's muck.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I mean, it ain't normally my usual thing.
All right. You don't like it,
you don't like it. Not a problem, mate.
Now this.
That's proper fucking bit of garment, mate.
No. You know what, mate? I've got an idea.
Oh, God.
You mug.
- Danny!
- Yeah.
My plan was as simple
as it was brilliant.
We'd get back on top the old-fashioned way. By
taking a fight to them. One firm at a time.
But travelling around the country
don't come cheap
and no bank was gonna lend us money
to kick the fuck out of someone.
So to put a bit of extra cash our way
we all started working the door at one of
London's roughest clubs, the Bear Pit.
Get out of the club,
you little dollop of shit.
Fuck you lot. This club's
a fucking shithole.
I'm gonna get my guys,
come back and fucking screw you.
Shut up!
Welcome to the fucking neighbourhood!
Hey, sluts, what's happening?
Needless to say,
we took to it like ducks to water.
10? 10? You fucking rip off.
Yeah. That's right.
Within a week
we had the place on lockdown.
No more gangsters, no more drug dealers.
Thank you, sir.
But there was only one problem.
What an absolutely charming venue.
For some reason
the punters just stopped coming.
And the work dried up.
But we soon found out running doors
weren't the only way to make money.
There's more than one use for hired muscle.
Guarding packages, minding drug deals.
Where's all the cocaine?
Me and the lads got paid to make sure
things went down how they should.
Go on, Weas, she fucking loves it, man,
like a fucking Hoover, yes, mate!
Well, no one minds laying out
an extra 10% for peace of mind.
And soon
people started to come to us for all sorts.
So what the fuck are we doing out here?
What do you want from us?
Well, basically, mates,
what it is, we're just looking for
someone to keep an eye on things.
Keep out the wrong element,
if you know what I mean.
Good job you called us then.
'Cause cracking heads is what we do best,
innit, boys?
Yeah.
No, Mr Dex, you misunderstand.
Charles and I abhor violence.
What we're trying to create here
is an environment of love.
An environment where people from
all walks of life can come together,
and dance, and sing and love,
free from the shackles of oppression.
Mmm.
Poofs night, is it, then?
No, Mr Dex.
What's that? Drugs?
This isn't drugs, darling.
This is pure love.
I love you, man! I love you, man!
Fuck off! Back off, all right?
- Guys, why are you so angry?
- Step back. You're encroaching.
You all right, lads?
We've only gone
and taken one of them pills, ain't we?
How is it?
Fucking shit. Don't do nothing.
Two-bob.
Right, Midnight, give me another one.
Mine must be a dud an' all.
These pills are fucking rubbish,
ain't they, mate?
Fucking shit.
We've known each other a long time,
ain't we, Midnight?
Yeah, mate. A long time.
You're like a fucking brother to me.
I was just thinking the same thing.
We're like brothers.
Oh, fuck me, I love ya.
I fucking love ya an' all.
What the fuck are they doing?
Yeah!
Oi...
What have they been taking? Tablets.
We were on our way.
Right, let's have ya.
With the money we made
from being doormen
we had more than enough to pay for
a shit load of those happy pills
and we sold 'em at raves
up and down the country.
It was the easiest money we ever made.
We hired a bus and a shit load of extras
and began to tour England
tearing up the firms one by one.
But I still had one problem.
Bullet!
- All right, Dex.
- What?
Oh, I'm sorry, Dan.
Can't tell the two of you apart nowadays.
Funny. I remember when we first met.
You remember that, don't ya, lunch?
Let me fill you in.
You might dress like Dexy,
but the only reason you're here is because
you remind him of his dead son.
In case you're wondering.
That's me there. Right at the top.
And it ain't alphabetical.
You fucking sod.
It's fucking on now! Fuck this...
Have that, you fucking mug.
Fucking broke my glasses.
What the fuck was that for?
He's a bit keen, isn't he, Dex?
He's new.
He's mental. Oi, this is
supposed to be the verbals, son.
You can't just go round hitting people.
- I'm sorry.
- Don't say sorry to me.
It's him whose glasses you broke.
Yeah, I'm sorry about that.
- You all right?
- It's all right.
- Sure?
- Yeah.
All right. Now where were we?
Oh, yeah. Come on then!
It's fucking on!
Right. Step back. Come on.
Nothing to see. All over.
God! What is going on?
You flash, cockney bastards.
You know Stanley?
Nah, mate.
Do you know my little friend Makita?
Fucking hell, boys.
What's the matter with ya?
I'm sorry, Dex, mate.
Call yourselves hooligans?
They've done the lot of ya.
And you, Farmer,
your lot were a fucking embarrassment.
You're supposed to be
one of the top firms in the country.
And you let yourself get turned over
by a fucking has-been.
He told me to give you this.
"You have been steamrollered by the..."
Fucking...
What are you gonna do with that?
Something I should have done
a long time ago.
You can't bring a gun to a ruck.
Says who?
Just can't. It's not cricket.
Fuck cricket! This is football!
I can't believe we did it.
We got the top firm.
When I go down to the shops I get
straight in at the front of the queue.
Pop down the boozer,
people are buying me drinks.
Feel like a legend. Like me old man.
Yeah, well, we're not the top firm yet.
All right, mate.
Ah, Midnight,
you want to come in or something?
No, I'm sound, bruv.
Uh...
Listen, Dex, erm,
I can't come to the final ruck.
- What you talking about?
- I'm looking to get out. Going straight.
Got a geezer who said
he'll sort me out with a job.
A proper job. Not a florist.
Dex, I got a kid to support.
No, you don't.
No. You're right.
I don't.
It's just,
- ever since that night at the rave...
- Oh, I knew it. I knew it.
I can't even look you in the eye no more.
And me heart's not in it.
Midnight, they need ya.
I need ya.
I'm sorry, mate.
Midnight! Midnight!
Midnight.
Dex, mate, it's the phone.
It's important.
It's The Baron.
- Baron!
- Hello, Dexter.
I do hope
I'm not calling at an inconvenient time.
Shut it, Baron.
Give me the where and the when.
3:00 p.m. kick-off.
- Where?
- Well, call me sentimental and all that,
but one place does spring to mind.
I think you know where.
Dad!
Yeah.
I know.
You okay, mate?
Danny, I don't want you
coming to the final ruck.
What do you mean?
Look, you've done great so far.
But this ain't Ipswich away.
These lot mean business.
I thought I was part of something.
And I thought you needed me.
I do. More than you know.
Well, then why are you
taking this away from me?
Look, Dan, I've already lost one son.
I am not losing another.
I'm not your son, Dex.
- Danny.
- No, mate. I'm me own man.
You're just a kid.
Well, fuck you, Dex.
You wouldn't even be here
if it weren't for me.
Danny.
It's quiet.
- It's almost too quiet.
- Maybe they've bottled it.
Something all too familiar about this,
eh, Dexter?
And I see you brought another boy with ya.
Ain't you learnt nothing from
the last time?
What are you doing here, Dan?
I told you not to come.
Fuck off, Baron, you kimono-wearing clown.
I'll open you up like a tin of beans.
He's got some stones on him, your boy,
I'll give him that.
Well, you listen to me, boy.
As soon as I'm done with the old man,
I'm coming for you, you fucking pinhead.
You'll have to go through me first.
Fuck it.
You never back down, do you, boy?
No. I always stand me ground.
Oh, it's all very touching, Dexter.
So, any last words?
I'm sick of talking, Baron.
Let's do this. Come on!
Thanks, Dan.
Next, I'll finish you!
Don't start that, young man.
Move! Move!
Move! Dexter!
You think you're a god.
A great god of vengeance.
You're nothing, you porky slut.
And now it's time for you to join your son.
Fuck me!
Dex.
Midnight.
Dex!
Midnight!
Come on,
let's have ya, ya wankers.
This is for the Factory.
This is from me.
And this is for my son.
Dex!
Drop him out. He ain't worth it.
You've had a squeeze.
Someone call an ambulance.
Dex, mate.
Dex.
Midnight.
- Look after little fucking Curtis for me.
- I will.
- Like he was your own.
- Like he was my own.
Boys, it's been emotional.
Danny, come closer.
You're the daddy now.
So, which one of you
wants to tell us what happened?
Fuck you, cozzer. We ain't talking.
Okay.
Maybe you'll feel a bit more comfortable
speaking to an old friend.
Bill, can you come in here, please?
Allo, allo, allo, boys.
How does he know your name, Bill?
Of course, they know his name.
He's a fucking face, ain't ya, Bill?
Tell 'em, Bill.
Bullet, I'm a police officer.
You can't be.
You fucking ain't, Old Bill.
Danny, can you come with me, please?
That's right. Going together.
Solidarity! Don't tell 'em nothing, boys!
Boys! Boys!
Right. One of you's obviously grassed.
Which one is it?
Dan, I'm sorry about what happened to Dex.
I know he meant a lot to ya.
Thanks.
Listen, Dan,
I know you're not stupid,
so I'm gonna tell this to you straight.
It's not you I'm after.
It's that lot in there.
Okay.
So consider this your lucky day.
All charges against you have been dropped.
You're free to go.
- Really?
- But if I even get a whiff
that you've been in kind of trouble at all,
I'm gonna come down on you like
a ton of bricks. Do you understand me?
Dex's death, tragic though it was,
taught me one thing.
Life's funny.
You can be up one minute and dead the next.
But remember, if someone gives you
a second chance, always take it.
Because you may not get another.
Fuck you, cozzer.
You little shit, Johnson.
You're going down for the rest of your
life. Wherever you go, I'll be waiting.
I hope it was fucking worth it!
Was it all worth it?
'Course it fucking was.