Ladhood

After all the ups and downs of the last few weeks,

I'm back to feeling that life is good.

That childhood certainty that life is wonderful

and anything is possible!

I've found it again, as if by magic.

Are you done with that? - Er, yeah.

That's my 20, by the way.

That's my 20, by the way, everyone! No one forget!

That's my lighter, by the way. No one forget.

Hey, that's Maskill, innit?

Maskill was the town's most prolific dealer.

To our teenage imaginations, he seemed a true gangster,

wealthy and invincible.

But thinking about it now,

he was more likely just a very sad adult man

selling to teenagers to eke out a tawdry living.

Shall we ask if we can lay on a Henry shit bar?

"Lay on" means receive on credit,

"shit bar" means low‐grade cannabis resin,

and a "Henry" means an eighth of an ounce, as in Henry VIII.

I don't know if me lungs can take any more shit bar, lads.

Come on!

I've got a free house as of tomorrow.

Definitely want a few joints for that.

- Are Malcolm and Kirsty... - Ralph's parents.

...going to be happy with you smoking out their house while they've gone on holiday?

They're not back till Friday.

Got plenty of time to air it out.

Sick. Let's do it.

Now, then, Maskill...

What d'you want, boys?

Just, er... After laying on a Henry of a shit bar.

Nah, I ain't doing shit bar no more, really, boys.

It's low‐profit margins and that.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

So, you not got no skunk, or...

To be honest, mate, I'm mainly doing schnecker now.

- What's schnecker? - Coke.

- Cocaine? - Nah, fucking Coca‐Cola, you silly bastard!

- So, er, no weed at all then, no? - Nah.

Tell you what, though, boys,

could lay you on a gram of schnecker.

£40 by tomorrow.

- Nah. We're all right. Thanks. - Yeah, all right, then.

Let's have a word with him. Come 'ere, Ralph.

- I'll just be a minute, Maskill. Take your time.

- What the fuck are you doing? - What, Craggy?

- Buying fucking coke! - That's a serious drug.

So? Weed's a drug, you know.

Booze is a drug, paracetamol's a drug,

water's a drug. Everything's a drug, mate.

Well, it isn't.

But, I take your point.

I'm not having nothing to do with this, me.

Me neither.

Liam, what you saying?

It's so lame!

Yeah. Yeah, me too.

Erm... So, er, what do you do?

I buy paintings of dogs on behalf of billionaires.

Okay. I love that. Ah, shit!

1:30. That has flown by.

Ah! I'd better go soon.

I've got a mental health assessment at 9:00 a. m.

- Intense. - Yeah.

And I've waited six weeks for it,

so I need to be in a good state, really.

Mental health isn't really something I have myself,

but I very much respect people who do.

Shit! Three missed calls from Jess.

Is that your girlfriend?

Er, yeah. Yeah, that's her there.

Oh! She's gorgeous!

I'd do anything for her, you know.

- Are you going to call her back? - I will in a bit, yeah.

A bit later.

- Do you have a boyfriend or a partner? - Nah!

To be honest, I don't really have the emotional bandwidth

for a relationship right now.

It is stressful, though.

I'm going to all this effort to change

and be a good boyfriend and be a good person...

...and it's still not enough.

And it's like she thinks that when it comes to the crunch,

I'm just going to mess everything up

'cause I have, like, a fuck‐it attitude.

No way!

Fuck it.

- Maskill, we'll take it. All right.

40 bar tomorrow, yeah?

Thanks, Maskill. Honestly, I really appreciate it.

Fuck off now. I'm your dealer, not your grandad.

Yep.

So, you're actually going to go through with it?

Yes, Craggy, you boring bastard.

I aren't a boring bastard!

- Where are you going? - Work!

It being half‐term, Craggy had taken a part‐time job

at the local garden centre, which we, perhaps made anxious

by this new exposition of adult responsibility, felt uneasy about.

See you in a bit, then, garden‐centre boy!

I couldn't think of owt good to say.

The following afternoon, Ralph and I took advantage

of Malcolm and Kirsty's absence.

- Yes, mate! - Yes, mate!

Yes, mate!

What are you grinning for? You haven't even done owt.

I'm just pleased to see you guys so cheerful.

- Do you want a line? - No, lads.

As you know, I'm a responsible person of high character.

But you two crack on.

- Thank you, mate. - Thank you, mate.

- Seriously, I'm buzzing, me. - Me too!

- Should get some heads round, innit? - What, like who?

- Where's Craggy? - He's at work.

Fucking sell‐out!

Hey, maybe get a couple of nice birdies round.

"Nice birdies"?

What birds are going to want to hang about with us?

'Ere, I'll get Rachel round.

No, you aren't calling Rachel.

You're wired, man! You'll end up saying something stupid.

She ain't coming, end of. Call someone else.

Fine!

I'll call Rupert and Tinhead. They know loads of birdies.

- Don't call Rupert and Tinhead! - Don't call Rupert and Tinhead!

Don't call Rupert and Tinhead.

So, who'd like a beer, then?

- Yes, we do. - Yeah, I'll have one.

- One for Tinhead. - Ta.

Ralph. One for t'Word Maggot.

Not one for you, muzzy boy.

Actually, can I have one as well, please, Rupert?

What, you want one as well, do you, Addy?

- Yeah. - Good boy!

This was a big twist.

Addy is a Muslim and has never drunk before.

- What you doing, Addy? - It's cool. I want one.

Ah! Right.

Let's have a good old time, then, shall we, boys?

These bourgeois users just do not care.

- Erm, yeah. - Yeah, it's sad.

- Could you make my line a bit bigger, please? - Sure.

Liam!

- Oh, all right, son. - I've been looking for you.

We're going to head now, so do you want to share a cab?

Erm, I'm going to stick around for a bit, I think, mate.

It's 2:00 a. m., pal. Don't you have that thing in the morning?

Yeah, I know. I'll be off soon.

Okay.

Nice to meet you.

So nice to meet you, Sam!

- I don't think I did meet him, actually. - Nah.

So, er, what's going on after this?

Well, I heard a few people might be going back to Brett's.

Nice.

- Who's Brett? - I don't know.

So, you got me 40 quid, then, Ralph?

Erm...

38.50.

Erm...

Could you let us off 70p?

The fuck is this, Ralph?

Do you think I'm fucking Sheriff of Nottingham or summat,

with a little pouch of coins?

Fuck is that, pirate money or summat?

- That's a Dutch guilder. - Oh, sick, man.

I'm off t'Amsterdam, September, me.

It's going to come in useful, that.

Yeah, yeah. They're worth loads.

It's worth nowt, mate.

It were replaced by euro t'other year. Twat!

Ralph, don't try and pay me in fucking Monopoly money again, all right? (SNIFFS)

Right! Who's schnecking?

- I will. - You done all that bag I gave you yesterday?

- Yeah. - Can I have one, please?

Yeah, you can, mosh.

So, what, you got any sex tunes, or what?

I got bassline CD from t'car.

Get it on, then, Tinhead, mate.

Going in.

Fucking good, that shit.

- Addy, what you doing with a beer? - Shh!

Look.

- It's easier than having another standoff. - It's genius!

Genius, or actually quite sad that it's necessary.

Take a seat, Ralph.

So, when you going to be able to pay us back for that nosie, Ralph?

Well, I just did with all them coins.

Nah, nah, not yesterday, you bag of mush.

I mean t'shot I just gave you now.

But I thought that were just...

- What? - Like a present.

- A fucking present? - You dickhead!

So, when you paying us back?

- Well, how much is it? - 25 bar.

25 bar for one line?

Well, er, Word Maggot had a line, didn't he?

Then there were a line for Tinhead, line for Rupert, line for me.

But I didn't know I were paying for everyone.