Rise of the Footsoldier: Origins

For fuck's sake.

Out of my way. I want to see him.

Tony, I can't let you in. You're drunk.

I want to see him.

Tony, I can't let you in. You're drunk.

I'm not fucking drunk.

You fucking cunt. This is my door.

Get him out here now.

This is his door, you jobsworth cunt.

Now get that fucking looking cunt out here.

You owe fucking money.

Oi, come out.

Give me my fucking money.

The Falklands War was a conventional conflict

with a known enemy.

48 men were killed when the Sir Galahad

was hit by Argentine jets.

We were all covered in burnt flesh.

Many survivors suffering from shock.

Many who had heard their own friends screaming

in the locked dormitories, unable to get out.

Britain is not prepared to be pushed around.

We have ceased to be a nation in retreat.

The Argentine forces surrendered

to British forces.

UK troops returned home triumphant,

having secured the island's sovereignty.

For fuck's sake, Frampy.

Why do we always draw the short straw?

Stop moaning, Pete.

- It ain't that bad. - Ain't that bad?

We're hitching a lift on a fucking supply plane.

Everyone else is sunning it up on the cruise ship.

Well, you don't see little Jacko complaining,

do you?

Oi, Jackie, you all right, son?

No, no.

I fucking hate this bit.

Whose bright idea was this, anyway?

Prepare for landing, chaps. Going down.

Oh, thank fuck.

So, what are you going to do when you get home, Jacko?

I'm going to wipe my arse.

Right, you fuckers.

You're going to get up, single file,

and keep it orderly.

Then you're going to get out and fuck off.

Don't forget to check your weapons

with Corporal Rollins.

Right, move. Come on, then. Chop chop.

This ain't a tea party.

Move. Let's go.

Tucker. Tucker.

Sir.

Ain't you got a home to go to?

Wait a minute.

The war's over, son.

If you need someone to talk to,

the Army's always here, all right?

Off you go.

Sorry, guvnor.

Cunt.

Ooh, aye-aye.

Hello darling, you all right?

Fuck off.

That's nice, isn't it?

That's the fucking third time

he's been mugged off tonight, third time.

Third time I've been mugged off?

You're the one that's losing your touch, Tone.

I saw you blown at by the fat bird.

Fuck all that, come on, let's get a kebab.

Hey mate, you all right?

Just doner meat and chips, yeah? Chilli sauce.

All right.

Hey, fund us a doner kebab will you?

Yeah, no worries, mate. Sweet.

Here, what's all that?

Empty your fucking pockets.

Do you know who the fuck I am?

Can you hear me? Empty your fucking bag.

Oi, get off me.

Come on, lads.

Don't get involved, Tone. I'm starving.

Let's get a kebab.

He's always got to be a hero, hasn't he? Come on.

Leave him alone.

Oi, fucking leave him alone.

What the fuck has it got to do with you?

They're trying to nick our car.

Do yourself a favour and fuck off back to your boy band.

Boy bands, yeah? I like Wham.

Tone, Tone, you're going to kill him.

You're going to kill him.

Fucking cunt.

Come out the way, come out the way.

Pete, get back to the club and get help.

What are you doing?

Just stand back.

What the fuck are you doing?

He's swallowed his fucking tongue.

Jacko, get her the fuck out of here.

He knows what he's doing, come on.

He knows what he's doing.

Sit up, son. Sit up, son. Sit up, sit up, sit up.

Tone, come on. The old bill.

We'll be doing statements all night. Let's go.

- Right. - Come on.

Let's go, come on. He's all right.

You all right?

You Tony Tucker?

Who wants to know?

Get in.

You looking for this, by chance?

Cheers.

Been fucking looking for that everywhere.

Ian Jarvis.

Nice to meet you.

I want to thank you for helping my grandson out

last night.

His girlfriend tells me if it wasn't

for your quick thinking,

he might not have made it.

If there's anything I could ever do for you, son,

you let me know.

I will.

I could do with a job.

Look at that motor.

His fucking bird's a bit tasty and all.

Fuck him as well, cunt.

Oi, Tucker, I'm going for a smoke. You got this?

Yeah, sweet.

Thanks a million.

All right?

What's all that about?

Don't worry about it, mate.

Where the fuck do you think you're going?

It's sweet. He's with me.

He's far from fucking sweet, mate.

He's the mug who turned over tan's grandson last week.

You're mistaken.

I don't make mistakes.

He's coming in.

He ain't fucking coming in now, is he?

Give me my fucking wages. I'm off.

What's the problem, Tony?

I'll tell you what the fucking problem is, Ian.

Where I'm from, it's about loyalty

and watching people's backs.

That little fucking mob down there,

that ain't loyal and it definitely ain't got your back.

Your head doorman is all pally

with that mug who kicked seven bells of shit

out of your grandson the other night.

That's quite a serious statement, Tony.

Are you sure?

I'm never wrong.

Mr. Jarvis?

Send Adam up here, will you? Now.

Of course.

I hope you're right about this.

You wanted to see me?

Tony here tells me that you know the man

that attacked my grandson.

Well, Tony's got a lot to say for himself.

You fucking grass.

Leave out, you'll fucking break my arm.

Fucking tell him, you cunt,

or I'll snap it off.

All right, all right.

I'm sorry, Ian, it wasn't meant to go down like that.

I told him not to hurt him.

I just needed the money.

You little cunt.

Fuck off. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my club.

What do you think I should do?

It's pretty simple, Ian.

Give me control of the door.

Fuck off, cunt.

Come on, you can fucking do it.

Keep going, come on.

Don't come in.

I'm coming in.

Fuck off.

You fuck off and all, pair of cunts.

Push it out, son. Come on, that's it.

Sorry, mate.

There's no way you're coming in here

dressed in that clobber.

Come on, two more, two more.

What? Can't hear me up there, Stretch?

Fair dos.

Oi, Ian.

We should start letting birds in free before 10.

Do you think it'd work?

Here, Tone, you heard that acid house music?

No. Should I?

It's all the rage now.

Centre Force Radio are putting on parties

for 20 to 25,000 people in fields.