Hard Boiled Sweets

And I'm kicking myself, really.

'Cause when I was a nipper, I didn't pay no attention at school.

Bollocks to all that.

Now I'm an old git, and I can't get enough of reading and whatnot.

History's what I like best.

All those kings and queens with their armies and wars.

I love all that stuff.

Being what is technically known as a proper villain,

I can relate with them royalty.

'Cause what they got up to, wars,

was just robbing and killing and bullying.

Same as what I done.

Only difference, they did it proper big scale.

Those crown-wearing bastards saw everyone coming.

Got them all confused into thinking they're legit.

Got them thinking they're heroes

and worth writing books about and everything.

And this is not me trying to glorify the criminal game.

Gonads.

Try glorifying something that can see you end up with your head

shoved down a karzy at my age.

Why do they call you Jimmy The Gent?

It's not a compliment.

Well, Jimmy The Gent.

You've been a big cock inafimeame for a long time now.

But that ain't gonna cut it no more.

You see, there's a bigger cock in town.

A prize cock.

And that prize cock is me.

I want the money, Jimmy.

I'm gonna give you a week to get it.

Jermaine here's gonna stick to you like glue, 24/7 to make sure you get it.

So don't disappoint me, yeah?

I won't, Leroy.

Good boy.

You know, if I was getting out, you know what I'd do first?

You'd get drunk.

Can do that in here, can't I?

Nah.

I'd go and have a nice cup of tea.

You can do that in here, too.

Can't. I can get a mug of tea. It's not the same thing.

I'm talking about a proper cup of tea.

With a saucer, served from a teapot, with a bicky on the side.

Digestive or Rich Tea?

Honestly,

I could give a fuck, just as long as it's there.

There's something so...

So fucking civilised about it. Don't you agree?

Might drink it all posh.

Me little finger sticking out and everything.

Oh, that's lovely, that is.

I'll have a cup for you, how's that?

Yeah, you do that.

Remember something, will you'?

What's that, Joyce?

Remember there are only three good reasons to do anything in this world.

Women.

Money.

That's two reasons. What's the third?

It'll come to you.

Just not in here.

The trouble is, I'm not much of a thinker.

Think that might take me too long.

The longer the better.

The longer the better, Johnny.

Six years,

four months,

two weeks,

three days,

18 hours,

36 minutes.

Give or take.

All I've got is the clothes on my back

and a lifer's riddle in my head.

What I probably need most

is a friend.

Yeah, well. ..

I was thinking you might want a lift.

You want the truth, I was hoping to go for a walk.

Sorry, it wasn't meant to sound like an offer.

You do your time, then you can go straight.

That's what they try and sell you anyway.

The truth is different.

You do your time.

Then you do your straight time.

There's no bars, no /ockdown.

But you're not free.

It's fucked. The whole car's fucked.

You want the truth, I doubt if it's gonna get us where we're going.

Where's that?

Looks like I'm doing my straight time under a copper.

Shouldn't I be checking in with my PO, detective?

Taken care of.

You like the seaside?

'Course you do, everyone likes the seaside.

It's good to be beside, innit?

Well, I'm pleased you're happy,

'cause that's where we're going.

Southend. What a day out.

Have a relax. Get your feet wet.

Soak up the sun. Bring the kids.

They're gonna love it.

The thing is, we're not all here for a holiday.

Some of us are here for the money.

Babe.

Morning, gorgeous.

Thought you might fancy a spot of breakfast in bed.

Eddie, you are such a sweetie.

You know me.

There you go, breakfast of champions right there.

How'd you do?

Okay, I think.

You think?

Yeah, no, I did fine.

Good.

Hmm.

You did real good, baby.

Daddy's very proud.

Come here.

You okay?

Yeah, just a bit sore.

Good nights will do that to you.

But don't worry.

I'll kiss it better later.

You want a hotdog?

I don't know.

'Course you do.

Go on, order one.

And a milkshake. My treat.

Thank you, Daddy.

Off you POP-

I'm gonna bang on a tab.

Be back pronto.

The thing with whores,

and by whores, I mean those who've got pimps.

I know about what I know.

I don't know nothing about girls that work for themselves.

Most people don't know nothing,

think they're all fucked up junkie sluts.

But that's not it.

That comes later.

The thing is, some people just can't make a decision for themselves.

They don't want to.

Making a decision, it scares the living shite out of them.

Simple things. What to wear, where to live, what to eat.

They don't want the fucking responsibility.

They'd give anything to hand that over to someone else.

Why do girls still become nuns? Exact same situation.

Except not all girls is nun material.

Them girls need someone like me.

A pimp.

'Cause a pimp will take care of all your decisions, always.

Until the end of time.

Just like the church will, if you let it.

And like for the nuns, a pimp's price is exactly the same.

We take your soul, baby.

We take your soul.

Oi, B and H, can we park here or what?

Piece of shit on wheels like that?

I wouldn't park it, I'd dump it, pal.

Do yourself a favour, yeah?

I hate this time of year.

Fucking day trippers. You know what I mean?

'Course you don't. How could you?

You've never been somebody.

Not like me.

Shrewd Eddie rambles, and I play along.

The obedient girlfriend, the happy lover.

Thrilled by his every word,

honoured that he chooses me to bore with them.

Boss, car's ready when you are.

Come on then, let's do the rounds.

Good day to make money.

I nod and smile in all the right places.

I feed his ego.

Then I feed it some more.

And some more again, all the time hoping he'll choke on it.

That's him. Shrewd Eddie.

He runs this town.

So you come down here, you play on a slot machine,

you pick up a whore, you buy some pills,

then you're helping him get richer.

He gets 10% of everything that happens here.

Everybody pays?

Yeah. Everyone pays.

Last fella who didn't went for a swim off the end of the pier.

Only he didn't get very far.

Word is Eddie strapped him up

with some old car wheels instead of armbands.

That's the rumour doing the rounds anyway.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Probably not.

What the fuck you looking at, old school?

You.

You're a good-looking boy. Do you know that?

Whatever, nancy.

No, no, no, I like girls me, don't worry.

What about you? You got a girl?

I see.