Hard Men

We're closed.

We called this morning.

Look, come back tomorrow all right?

You Mr. Ross?

Who wants him?

I'm Jason Morris. These are my colleagues, John Smith and Davey Jones.

From Inland Revenue.

- Come in. - Thank you.

You know, something's just ain't right, boys.

I've been paying taxes for 15, 20 years.

And I've never had any tax men come to my office before.

What is that?

That's because we're from department VML132F.

What? Fucking audit is it?

No, Mr. Ross. We're more of a fact finding mission. We're here to, um...

Oh, Sir. Meet my partners: John, Cas.

These are from the tax office. What department was it?

VML132F.

Yeah. Don't mind if I just check that out with your colleagues at the tax department?

The office is closed at this time of day, Mr Ross.

I think you're taking me for a dumb onion.

No. No, we're not.

Yeah? Well what the fuck does your department do?

Customer relations.

We want to improve relations with our customers.

We're here to ask you a few questions so we can give you a better service.

Oh.

All right then, fire away.

Question one:

How long have you been in business?

Oh God, how the fuck do I know?

18? 20 years?

- 18, 20 years. You getting this, John? - 18, 20 years.

Do you fell you pay: too much,

enough, or not enough tax?

Everyone pays too much tax, don't they?

- Too much tax. - Too much.

Question three:

Do you know a person by the name of Pops Den?

Excuse me.

Hello?

Hello Tone, it's Ange.

I'm right in the middle of a business meeting. Can I call you later?

No hang on. Just listen, listen to this. Listen.

- You all right? - Yeah. I'm fine.

Sorry about the interruption, Mr. Ross.

Right, we don't want an incident, we just want to talk.

So, tell your gentlemen to drop their guns.

Well, tell them.

Yeah, just put them down for now.

Well, hands on your heads, come on.

Not you, Mr. Ross.

Right. Let's get to the point.

You're three months behind and Pops wants his money.

He likes his clients to pay their bills on time.

He's even given you the standard 30-days leeway.

60 days is taking liberties.

But in your case... 94 days is taking the piss.

You've shot your one-shot credit, Mr. Ross.

And that ain't right, is it?

So there's an easy way to do this, or there's the hard way.

Me? I like the easy way.

Lazy, see?

I've got the money here.

The thing is this, Mr. Ross:

We don't give a fuck! Right?

We just want to know when you're going to pay Pops Den.

Come on Kojak, hurry up.

Oi! You're getting your money, so relax.

Don't tell me to relax.

You fucking little shit!

I apologize for my associate, his manners ain't what they should be.

So?

Where did you get them thick little shits?

- Job advert in the Times. - Yeah?

Well here's your dosh. Now fuck off!

Count it, Bear. I don't trust you, Mr. Ross.

38,920, 38,940, 38,960,

38,980, 39,000...

55,980 pounds.

That's 20 quid short.

What the fuck are you trying to do? Do you know who you're fucking with?

Hey, I made a little mistake. Relax.

Don't tell me to relax!

The score's short and you have to go massacring everyone on the site?

- Come on, what's the matter with you? - It's my nerves!

Go see a doctor! Or take an early retirement!

- Bullocks! - You fucking retard!

It's not his nerves, it's the coke!

Without the steroids, he thinks he's the fucking Terminator!

The old geezer had it coming to him, he's an asshole.

What the fuck's that?

What these? Valium.

You fucking junkie!

You know, you're going to do that shit you do it private...

- Fat bastard! - Don't call me fucking fat, all right?

I'll tear your fucking face off of you.

Fattie.

Amateurs.

Fucking Amateurs!

I send you to collect the cash, and you kill half the town.

Fucking Amateurs!

Whose fault was it anyway?

It way nobody's fault.

Ross and his mates, they had guns. They played it like really tough, you know?

Then everything went so fucking quickly, didn't it?

Yeah.

Who pulled his gun out first?

What do you mean?

- Like who fired first? - Who fired the first shot?

- Ross and his mates. - How come none of you were hit?

Look, Pops Den, we went down there looking for no trouble,

then there's three fucking guys with guns that want to kill us.

So it was legitimate defence, technically.

You've just lost me 25 grand a month,

and you call that legitimate defense?

Sabotage! Fucking assholes!

I ought to kill the lot of you.

Feeling sweet today.

So, forget the money I owe you for this job.

- We'll call it quits. - Yeah.

- Whatever you say, boss. - I don't agree.

No disrespect.

It's just, I don't agree with this "no money" shit.

I mean we still did the job, didn't we?

Yeah, brilliantly.

I know, I know, but you still got your money, Pops.

If I was a taxi driver and I pick up a punter

and he gets run over when he gets off, I still get my money.

Insurance pays him some dosh, not me, some I'm not out of pocket.

I never thought of that.

I could claim a loss of earnings.

Look, I'm no businessman, but this is out of order.

We should get our money and then some.

I mean that was a high-risk venture this afternoon. We fucking nearly died.

If the boys don't want their share, I'll have theirs.

What's wrong with you?

You don't look so well. What's bugging you? Problems at home?

No. No problems.

It's just that...

I'm a...

What? A shithead?

I'm a dad.

What the fucking hell's going on?

Remember Angie?

The girl I went with a couple of years ago.

Oh, you... Angie with the...

She came back. With a baby.

My baby.

Fucking shock of my life.

I've got a girl and a baby.

They're my family, Pops. I've got responsibilities.

Congratulations, Tone.

That's why I needed the money.

I give up. This is too much for me.

Go on, piss off, the lot of you.

Tone, you wait. I want a word with you.

Tone. Can't see the years go by.

You're a man and a dad now. What are you doing to me, eh?

It wasn't planned.

Seems like yesterday, when you was a snotty-nosed kid,

with your ass hanging out your trousers, sniffing glue.

You're like a son to me.

Stop it, Pops. Ain't got no Kleenex on me.

Remember that time you stabbed the copper in the leg, that was great.

Fucking should do. First time I went inside.

I looked after you though. You lived like a king.

Tell me, that baby stuff.

That's your heart gone soft, not your head?

It's Tone you're talking to, Pops.

- Here you go. That's for the baby. - Cheers, Pops.

Kids.

You give them the best years of your life and it's like they never existed.

- Here you are, boss. - Cheers, Speed.

All right, listen, you've got to check this out.

Where is mine?

I called all my boys, told them I was getting married.

I fucking drunk five gallons of beer, right?

I see this woman, right? She's tall, dark hair.

Un-fucking-believable.

Unzips my zip and fucking...

- She gives you a blowjob? - Oh, yes! Oh, yes!

- Only one problem with your story, pal. - What?

- You're not fucking married! - You're not fucking married!

I only told them I was getting married and that I wanted a free night out.

That's the only fucking reason.

Keep the noise down, I'm on the phone now, all right?

Hello Angie?

Hello there, darling. Yeah, I'm fine.

Well, how is the little one?

Is she really?

- Come back to bed. - Will you shut the fuck up?

Sorry about that. How's the little one?

Did she? Well, put her on the phone.

Hello Darling. Hello my little one.

It's you daddy. Can you hear me? I can hear you.

Listen, Daddy loves you very, very, very much.

Bye-bye.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I'll see you later, Angie. Yeah, take care, Darling. Bye-bye.

Everything all right, is it?