Misfits

- Alex is gay. - If you didn't want to come to mine,

why didn't you just say? You make up some bullshit story?

You could come over later and watch a DVD.

- It's cos you want to get in my knickers, right? - I'll settle for a kiss.

Finn showed me this video of you and this guy in an underground car park.

I think he's paying him for sex.

I didn't want to believe it, and then we come back here

and there's photos of you with your arm round some guy,

and you're cooking!

You really like her, don't you?

I always have done.

She acts all tough, but she's not. And I know I can make her happy.

Just so you know, Alex "from the bar" is so not gay.

I'm sure he'll make someone a lovely husband.

Or should I say "civil partner"?

"Twat"!

Listen to me. Show me your cock and I'll let you go.

Show me your cock!

Oh, ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Those are a mistake, by the way!

What are?

Light-coloured trousers.

Honestly, that's a basic schoolboy error, that is, mate.

What's wrong with these?

What's wrong with these? We're about to enter a war zone.

It's going to get really messy.

Honestly, man, it's going to be the most insane house party

you've ever been to in your shitty little life.

Strangers are going to fuck strangers.

Heads are going to get shaved.

There'll be puke, blood, sperm and piss.

Will there be a buffet?

Yes, there'll be a buffet. A buffet of drugs, alcohol and shagging.

This is Richard Saunders. Do you understand me?

Richard "The Colonel" Saunders. He's a fucking lunatic.

Y'know, they used to call him Richie Two-Tabs.

Because he used to drop two tabs of acid

before he'd even got out of friggin' bed in t'morning.

So, to summarise, a Richard Saunders house party

is absolutely no place for fucking chinos, man.

Well, they aren't chinos, so...

They are chinos.

Hiya.

You all right?

All right?

Are you ready for the carnage?

What you on about?

Oh, you'll see. You'll see what I'm on about.

Are we going to this party, or what?

Yeah.

Trust me, you will never forget your first Richard Saunders house party.

Guaranteed.

Honestly, Colonel Saunders is a fucking legend.

Aw... it's going to be buzzing.

I like your top.

It's nice. What do you call that kind of top?

It's just a top.

It's not like a halterneck.

I know.

No, it's nice, whatever it is. It's a nice top.

Yeah. Thanks.

Oh, you made it!

I can't find this party.

I know where it is. It's down here somewhere. Follow me.

I like your top.

Good colour on you.

Thanks!

Fuck's sake.

Oh, yes!

Right. Now, then...

Wait! Whoo! What you doing?

Listen, brace yourself. All right?

This thing is going to hit you like a train.

- So you do some deep breaths. - In through the nose...

out through the mouth.

It's good stuff. I'll see you on the other side.

N-N-N-No! This... this is bubbling under nicely.

We just need to get ourselves a drink, we need to get settled,

cos there is a hurricane a-coming! It's on its way.

It's a weird party.

Yeah, it's pretty weird.

Hey! Seen this? Saunders, the mad bastard, 'ey?

Everyone's drinking sherry.

Honestly! It's going to go fucking mental in here, I'm telling you!

Really?

Mm.

This is a wake.

What are you on about?

It's a funeral.

Ohh...

No, it's not.

Don't fucking...

Saunders, no!

He's me best...

He's me best friend. Why do only the good die young?

It's some old woman called Glenda.

It's the wrong flat. Get... get your shit.

It's the wrong flat.

So, erm, this is a great night.

Scotch eggs if you're hungry.

Oh, my God. You stole from a funeral.

I'm impressed!

If you think that's good...

Ohhh!

Ah, cheesy pineapple.

It's definitely on this floor.

- Why don't you just ring him? - I might just ring him.

Just ring him up. Probably won't answer.

Probably lost his phone again.

Fuckin' maniac.

I didn't know you were coming.

Yeah. Jess asked me.

Is that all right wi' you?

It's absolutely fine.

Hey, here he is! How you doing, you cunt?!

You all right, Saunders?

Yeah, listen. Bit... bit of a problem.

I forgot where you live.

Nice one.

See you there.

We're on the wrong floor. Get back in t'lift. Shit.

If you haven't got anything to hide, then just say.

I don't see why it matters.

It matters to me.

So just tell me, how many people have you slept with?

Fine. It's four.

Before you, I slept with four guys.

Fucking liar.

Yeah, this is it.

Welcome to the jungle.

I'm going to get us a drink.

I'm going to check in with t'Colonel.

Why have you got a 2 on your head?

Why have you got a 1?

What?

I didn't do that.

It's not coming off.

How the fuck did it get on there?

Oi! Shit, mate. Oi, check this out.

Turns out I've been going round with a bloody big 99 on me head,

which, strangely enough,

is the exact amount of girls I've slept with, dude.

I keep a list. I've got to keep a record.

I just want to keep tabs on where he's been. It's like service history!

Can I just say...?

Long-term relationship, so no shame in that.

There's deep shame in that.

OK. Any idea why I've got the number 46 on my head?

Yes, because you are a fucking Viking.

Respect to the dark horse.

It's how many "girls" you've slept with.

Hmm.

Is this some kind of power thing?

How do you know about powers?

I just do.

What about you, then?

Are the goods still intact, or...?

Unlike yours, which must be fucking disgusting,

like an old banana that's been left out in the sun.

How come someone as fit as you only has shagged two people?

Cos it's not like you don't get offers, is it?

Are you just not that bothered about cock?

It doesn't make you a lesbian, or anything.

Cos honestly, lads, I'm just like this with Twixes.

- I can take 'em or I can leave 'em. - Just fuck off.

Very angry.

Maybe if she put it about more, she wouldn't be angry. I'm just saying.

Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Alex?

46!

How many of them do you reckon were blokes?

Can you just go?

Start working on your friggin' digits, mate.

That is a mark of honour.

It shows I'm a good person.

Do you know...? Here we go.

All right, here's a graph, right?

And down the bottom, it says "niceness",

and down the side, it says "number of times

"I've ejaculated inside a real human woman," right?

And your friggin' graph, dude, is doing this. Are you watching?

Boom!

All right? Do you understand what I'm saying?

I don't care about numbers. It's not about quantity.

It's about quality.

Yeah, right, see her, there?

She is never going to respect you

while you got that on your head, you moron!

You're wrong.

Because she respects people with morals.

People who actually stand up for something. And I reckon...

tonight's the night.

Do you? All right. So while you're just... jerking off...

into a wet flannel, like a stinky little Hobbit bitch,

I'm going to be joining the Hundreds Club, all right?

Here we go, here we go. Hello, I'm Rudy, how you doing?

I'll be your waiter for the evening.

I'll get you a white wine spritzer. That's for you.

Why have you got 99 on your head?

Mm, very interesting story about that.