Wasteman

-(Man 1) Fuck around and find out. -(Man 2) Fuck around and find out.

Show 'em what you mean, bro.

Get the fuck in there. Get in there.

Sit the fuck down, Taylor. Sit down.

Keep your fucking hands down.

Keep your fucking hands down.

Fucking, you messing about again, Taylor?

I'll cut someone's fucking throat for less than that, mate.

Which one of you took it?

-What? -Which one of you fucking took it?

Who took the pills?

-Talk! -Who took the fucking pills?

-I wouldn't steal from you, would I? -I buy from you. I buy from you.

Why would I take? I buy from you.

-One of yous is a fucking rat. -He's a fucking rat.

He's been offering them out. Ask Cil.

Ask fucking Cil? Why didn't you fucking say that, then?

-Get Cil in here. -Cil!

-Get Cil. -This is serious.

Cil!

One of yous is getting proper fucked up, you know that?

Proper fucked up.

If that's you, mate, I'm going to stick you in the fucking ground, lad.

I got him, I got him!

-Come on, don't film me. -Who took the Sub?

-Who took the fucking Sub, Cil? -Cil, don't fuck about, come on.

I'll fuck him up! I'll fuck you up!

Get out the way! Get out the way!

Shit.

You, mate, you're a fucking psycho, aren't you?

The fuck are you doing?

Fucking TV, mate.

Hey, listen, just because you're the oldest in here...

Them little hairs get everywhere.

Just make sure it's high and tight at the back there, mate.

Got court in the morning.

-Are you sure about that trim? -Yeah.

Fuck 'em.

Oh, come on. What do you want?

Sort us out with a gram?

Aren't you friends with that dickhead?

Eh?

-The one with a TV for his head. -(Paul) Not me.

Okay. Canteen, yeah?

Yeah. Good.

Fuck off, then.

You got mine, then, or what?

What'd you fucking say? Or what?

-Oh, would you listen to this cunt? -(Gaz) Rude that, ain't it?

-Sort us a couple more. -(Sucks teeth derisively)

-You didn't cut all of his hair, did you? -(Mumbles indistinctly)

Is "bollock" one "L" or two?

-(Gaz) Two. -(Man) One.

-This looks fucking smart, this, lad. -You look like a bollock, with one "L".

... in a wonderful bid this morning.

How are you feeling about it?

You know what? I actually feel quite worried.

I was feeling confident, but now I'm like, "Oh, no."

I'm starting to get a bit nervous...

Open up.

Morning.

You're requested.

-I ain't done anything. -(Guard) Chop, chop.

Any additional substance abuse issues since 2015?

No.

Any attempts to self-harm?

Of course not. What's going on?

If you complete this reintegration programme

at grade two or above, you'll be eligible for early parole.

-I'm getting out? -(Psychiatrist) On licence.

Everything's in here. You have to fill it out as you go.

All decisions are final and unappealable.

What you need to do is start visualising your life outside.

But why?

Sentences like yours are being reviewed nationwide

to take some pressure off the service.

Of course, this is all dependent on continued good behaviour.

Do you feel ready to be released?

On a scale of one to 10?

I don't know... maybe a seven.

Or eight. Put... put eight.

It's really easy.

All you have to do is fill out the worksheet and stay out of trouble.

Yo.

Yo!

The number you are trying to reach is no longer in operation.

♪ Oh, the good life

♪ Full of fun, seems to be the ideal

♪ Oh, the good life

♪ Lets you hide all the sadness you feel... ♪

Shut up!

Shut the fuck up. You like that, yeah?

Fucking entertainment's arrived, bruv.

Opening up on one.

♪ Don't try to fake romance... ♪

You got a new cellmate.

-Get my shit in here. -It's not here yet.

-Yeah, when's it gonna be here? -We're three staff down.

You'll get it when it arrives.

Two days in segment, no shower, no nothing.

And you lot can't even get my shit on time.

You might run riot in Aylesbury, but here...

I'm not running riot...

-You'll get it, man. -Your pals over there take the piss.

I want the rest, yeah?

Suck your mum.

Where's the showers?

Down to the left.

-Wagwan, you man buying tuna? -Yes, yes.

-What you want for it? -Oh, just canteen, innit?

You sure you don't want no spice? I got other shit coming as well.

Nah, man. Boys down the hall got me covered.

All right, fucking hell, suit yourself. Get out.

Junkies gonna be lined up for my shit in no time, watch.

This game's fucking rigged.

Mmm.

-You want some? -No, I'm good.

You buying deodorant?

I fucking know you!

I fucking know you, you're Beech Green, innit.

-I'm not with them. -Don't fucking lie to me!

-Don't fucking lie to me, you cunt! -I swear down, bruv!

You fucking come around back here again, yeah,

I will fucking cut your eyes open.

Tell your boy Richie as well, yeah? Get the fuck out my fucking yard.

The fuck is he thinking, coming around here?

Any more of them around here?

-Who? -Beech Green.

You're from there, though, aren't you?

Who said that?

Fucking screw who looks like a crackhead.

They're knocking it down, you know.

-Swear down? -Yeah, most of them are gone.

Got no papers. Skin it up?

-No, just... just give 'em back. -What, you don't smoke?

Yes, this one's a fucking banger!

That's fucking sad. Here.

-No thanks. -Come on.

Can't watch you do that no more.

-Cheers. -All right.

Need those teeth clean for when you suck me off later.

-Eediat. -What did you say?

Nothing.

Do you understand? Do ya?

♪ With no release date Cat-e-gory A, it's a real long stay

♪ Fed got us rotting on a wing Devil Wears Prada, I got it on my skin ♪

Oh, there he is.

Who is it? It's the fucking Spice Boys.

You know them little young youths, innit? They think that...

They want to be the guy, innit, but...

No, Freddie, it was 10 quid, like 15 years ago.

I don't know what I can do, mate, how can I help you?

I need Becca's number.

I'm her... I'm her kid's dad.

-4-3-7-5... -Fucker.

Hello?

-Becs. - How'd you get this number?

I told you I don't want to talk to you.

How you been?

What do you want?

I heard they're knocking down the Towers.

What do you want, Taylor?

- I really don't have time for this. - I just... I just need a second.

Listen, I might be getting out soon.

And I want to come see Adam.

He doesn't know you.

Last time he came to see you, you were totally off your head.

What are you saying?

I'm saying you can't even look after yourself.

What are you going to do for a 14-year-old boy?

- Stay out of our lives. - I want to see him.

- I've heard it all before, Taylor. - Becs!

No, Taylor. Don't call again.

Pay in canteen, yeah?

So my cellmate's a smackhead, is he?

It's not smack.

Subutex, innit?

-Yeah. -Yeah. Same shit, bruv.

Synthetic heroin. They make that shit for smackheads.

Can OD much easier off that than all.

The gun is loaded. I know what I want, I'm gonna fucking blow your mind.

Woooooo!

Furthermore, free up the madmen in the jailhouse, fresh home.