CoachBut you are black and you are a cunt, Ernie. Those are the facts. I don't think Primetime cares what race you run in.
ErnieThe fact that I'm black has nothing to do with the fact I'm a cunt.
CoachHe didn't say black people were cunts, Ernie. He was being specific to you. One has nothing to do with the other. And I'd go a step further and say it was a term of affection.
ErniePrimetime's a Gypsy. I wouldn't call him a pikey cunt.
CoachWhy not? He might be very understanding. Only if it comes from a place of love, of course.
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Michael PearsonIf you wish to be The King of the jungle, it's not enough to act like a king. You must be The King. And there can be no doubt. Because doubt causes chaos and one's own demise.
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Michael PearsonFucks sake, Ray. You need to invest in some parachutes. There's a pattern emerging here.
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Raymond[Watching the video of Big Dave and the pig]You really can't unsee it once you've seen it.
FletcherI talk Raymondo of Dry Eye. Oh Dry Eye, what is he? Chinese, Japanese, Pekingese, get on your fucking knees. Dirty dragon filth. 'Yellow is the colour, gambling is the game'
FletcherEnter our protagonist. He's good looking. He's gorgeous. He's golden age. He's a proper handsome cunt. His name is Mickey Pearson. Unique background has our Mickey. American born, Rhodes scholar. So he's born clever, but poor. Now that's quite a leap from a trailer park in Americana to the thousand year-old university in old Angleterre, where he studies the dark art of horticulture. But he never finished his education, never went home, because he found his vocation. A naughty vocation. He's a bad boy. He starts dealing the dirty wonder weed to his rich, British, upper-class uni pals, and realizes he's rather good at it. But now the plot begins to thicken. He has reached a crossroads in his life. The middle class and the middle age, they've got to him. They've corrupted his appetite for the horrors. He's gone soft. He wanted to cash in his chips, and get out of the game, and he seems to have found the perfect customer.
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Michael PearsonNo sooner do I entertain Matthew's offer to buy me out and reject Dry Eye's offer does one of my farms get raided.
Rosalind PearsonHe's a fox, and foxes have a predictable nature. Trust this Jew about that Jew. If you let him in the henhouse, you can expect blood and feathers everywhere.
RayYou're wrong, Fletcher. That's not how Michael works.
FletcherYeah, I know. I know. I was just having a bit of fun. Every movie needs a bit of action, doesn't it? And it's not like Michael doesn't have a reputation.
Mickey PearsonGetting out. Getting out of what? Bed? My head? The closet? Don't flirt with me, Dry Eye. I'm a busy man.
Dry EyeI hear you're getting out of the game. And I would like you to consider an offer.
Mickey PearsonLook, I'm going to stop you right there, so you don't waste any more of your precious breath, young man. This is not a discussion for the two of us. Unlike the salt and pepper, it's not on the table. I am not for sale. And even if I was, you're several zeros short. Now, you may be able to buy your man's sausage for that, but to me it just looks rude at breakfast.
Dry EyeYou're out of touch. You're forgetting the laws of the jungle, looking down on me. Now, when the silverback's got more silver than back, he best move on before he gets moved on. It's not dignified. It's beneath you, Michael. Trying to do you a favor. This is a big fucking number.
[pause]
Mickey PearsonAnd this? Well, this is a big fucking gun.
[shoots Dry Eye from under the table]
Mickey PearsonEyes not so dry now, are they? Hurts, does it? You looking for your balls, or a hole in the wall?
Mickey PearsonWhere the fuck do you think you're going? Because you're not going out the way you came in, you deluded duck-eating cunt! Talking to me about the laws of the jungle. What was it? Something about being beneath me? Silver on back? There's only one rule in this fucking jungle! When the lion's hungry, he eats!
[shoots Dry Eye]
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FletcherI think the time has come for me to introduce you to our queen. A Cockney Cleopatra to Mickey's cowboy Caesar. The only weak link, in his otherwise impregnable armor, is his devotion, his passion, some would say his obsession, with his beauteous lady wife.
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Coach[turning the tables on a youth gang]Youse are embarrassing yourself here, lads. Kids stab, girls shoot, boys punch. Grown-ups fight with their heads. That's where the real battle is. Up here, in the gray. Now wake up, lads. Life's quick, you're slow. Life's hard on a bone top.
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Mickey PearsonI like middle age. I like gentrification, private schools, fine wines, and a spoonful of caviar to help my medicine go down. But most importantly, I'm looking forward to spending more time with you.
Rosalind PearsonLook, you'll have to do this elegantly, love. If word spreads that you're getting out, that could read as weakness. And if you smell smoke, it's because there's a fire, and that could get expensive. So you're going to have to stamp that out without any gentrification. But not you, love. Don't you do anything messy. That's why you've got people, remember?
Fletcher[Ray motions towards Fletcher]Oh, all right, all right, it's going out!
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Mickey PearsonI've gone to great lengths to make my operation as invisible as possible, Matthew. If you were standing on my bush, you wouldn't know it. As a matter of fact, you are standing on my bush.
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MatthewHow does anyone grow fifty tons of super skunk without letting anyone else know how they do it?
Mickey PearsonI'm flattered to hear that from you, Matthew. I imagine that big brain of yours is sweating a stream of tears just trying to figure it out.
RayI should stab you with that fucking rolling pin!
FletcherOh, don't be cunty. I was just hoping we could have a cozy little drink together. So, I've got a meeting on Saturday at your favorite newspaper. As the best private investigator in this smoky little town, good evening, ladies and gentlemen, they are ready to put a hundred and fifty grand in my pocket to give them some filth. Good for me, that, but in this case, it's bad for you.
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Rosalind PearsonAh! He's bought you a gun. That's a nice little gift. Five years in prison, all in one little box.
Mickey PearsonOh, but that's not a gun, dear. That's a paperweight.
Rosalind PearsonCourse it is. Along with a family of six baby bullets.
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Mickey PearsonNo sooner do I entertain Matthew's offer to buy me out, and reject Dry Eye's offer, does one of my farms get raided.
MatthewOh, I like to make a splash whenever possible.
Mickey PearsonWell, you also seem to understand the significance of a proper attire.
MatthewIndeed I do. I believe a sense of ownership is vital in every aspect of life, perhaps never more so than when it comes to wardrobe. For every look there is a season, and for every season a strategy.
Fletcher[voice over]Now starts the alpha dance. They're not really talking about clothes, Raymond. Oh, f**king no. They're like a pair of old doggies sniffing round one another's intellectual a**holes. It's a good old-fashioned C**k-off, Raymond.
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RayStop fuckin' around cunt! Gimme the phone... and take the money.
Mickey PearsonIt's the new gold rush. This is the thin end of a very fat wedge, sir.
MatthewIf it's such a fat wedge, why don't you keep it?
Mickey PearsonYou see, I've developed a reputation as a man who came up the hard way. You could say that there's blood on these pretty white hands. But in the new business, once legal and under the jurisdiction of the respectable umbrella of ministerial legitimacy, an enterprise like this will need a face with a clean past, which sadly I do not possess. Retirement doesn't sound so bad. Long walks in the countryside, pruning roses with my better half, raising some cubs. I've earned it.
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FletcherHe explodes on the scene like a millennial fucking firecracker. Bang, bang, bang, bang!
RayI'm going to have to stop you right there, Fletcher. That doesn't sound like the Dry Eye I know.
FletcherJust making sure you're paying attention, Raymond. So let's cut instead to a somewhat anticlimactic, but suave and debonair Dry Eye, like a Chinese James Bond.
FletcherHe wants to ruin him, but I am here to do you a favor. And it's not like you're not getting something for your money. You could even turn that script into a feature film, Raymond. We could make it together. We could be partners. I have learned off you lot. You got to look after number one, and now it's my turn. The sun is not going up for me, Ray. It's going down.
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RaymondYou're wrong, Fletcher. Micky doesn't work like that.
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RaymondI don't build a joint like the Americans in the new school. Back strapping, jock strap and coke wrapping all that bollocks. I like a good old fashioned 50/50 mix me that's how we used to play.
Mickey Pearson[narrating]I you wish to be the king of the jungle, it's not enough to act like a king. you must be the king. There can be no doubt. Because doubt causes chaos and one's own demise.
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CoachErnie. Did you get that Chinese fella's name?
CoachI gather you're the consigliere of the outfit that my boys were stupid enough to fuck around with. On that note, I'd like to extend my apologies on their behalf. My boys, they're naive, they've had hard lives and they're just starting to come good. But, they're my lads, my responsibility, so it's me that should be accountable for their actions. Now, I can return your goods, but I can't return the inconvenience, the time, the fucking headache. And so I offer you my loyalty, my word, my time until that debt is settled. I'll make amends, but just leave me lads alone.
RaymondFirst of all, I'm going to need to know how your lads got that information about where our farm was sited, cause that's not common knowledge. Once we've overcome that little challenge, then we can talk.