The Legend of Barney Thomson

I've got two styles...

short back and sides.

And back and sides.

I start at the crown.

And work outwards methodically.

I like a calm working environment.

Every barber has his quirk...

well, except me.

I've not got any.

Don't see the point. Really.

Head down...

get on with it.

That's me.

I prefer it when they don't speak.

I cannae be bothered speaking to them either.

I like the quiet.

So what makes a legend. Do you think?

Heroism?

Well. That rules me out.

Self-sacrifice?

Not your man.

Nobility of purpose?

Can't help you there. Either.

My life's always been boring.

I don't mind that.

There's a place for being boring.

Cuttin' hair is boring.

Sittin' at home is boring.

That was all right.

I was a boring kind of guy.

If you'd asked me back then. Pd have said I was content.

Smilin' in the comer.

The rain runnin' down my neck.

Then fate decided to leap on my back.

And I turned round and saw

that I'd been nothing all these years

but a howling ghost.

From nowhere. I was alive.

I'd never had to deal with the law before.

Only had to look at a police and! Shafted.

But circumstances changed...

and. Suddenly. I had my very own one-to-one copper

breathing down my neck.

Everywhere I turned, there he was...

this big slab of bastard staring right back.

Yeah. I was alive. All right.

But for how long?

I'm Barney Thomson.

And this is the story of what happens

when you move chairs.

I'm telling ye.

He's not in the Lynch league yet.

77 wins, and I'm talkin' the pre-nutrition years.

14 knockouts on a diet of Irn Bru and dog food.

Comics by the door, Charlie.

Thanks, Barney.

Sweetheart. What you talkin' about?

Don't believe that.

She's a fuckin' liar. I Wasn't at Karen's.

I had to go the hospital.

A shadow on my lung.

Nah, nah. It's fine. They gave me tablets.

What are we doin' tonight?

Maybe you can come by again,

and I could gie ye another "Maryhill Moothfae"...

Oh! That's fuckin' disgusting.

All right, Darling. See you in a bit. Bye.

Right, up you come.

Doesn't even make sense.

Barney... can I have a wee chat'?

Aye.

All this chatter must be bothering ye, eh'?

What'?

Well, the boxing chat. Is it bothering ye'?

Och.

I think you might be, uh...

might be happier up here.

- What, there? - Aye.

Let me get this straight.

I was in the windae for eight years,

then I was in the second chair, then the third.

Now you want me oot by the bins'?

I mean, that...

that's not even a fuckin' barber's chair!

Fuck!

You have nae patter, Barney.

Nae sparkle.

You hang over the customers like a shitty cloud.

Scaring 'em away,

standing there like a big streak of piss.

It's like you've had a charisma bypass.

You look like a haunted tree. That's all I'm saying.

Well, your dad brought me into this shop 20 years ago.

I'd like to hear What he has to say about this.

Eh'?

Right. Let's get my da on the phone.

I'm a fuckin'...

haunted tree'?

Shitty cloud...

Big streak of piss...

He's standing there like a haunted tree.

Nae patten.

All right, who's next'?

I'm gonna wait for Chris, thanks.

Yourself?

What about you'?

I'm just waitin' for Wullie, if that's all right.

That's, uh... that's fine.

Actually, no.

It isnae bloody all right. No.

Not one of you want to get your hair out by me'?

Am I... Am I that bad'?

What you want to wait for these two for'?

It's half-past three already.

You'll no all get seen!

Are you mental?

Come on, Barney. That's out of order.

What is this'? Some kind of conspiracy?

First, you bump me intae the back of beyond,

- then you tell this bunch of... - Wankers'?

To... to refuse my services?

Is that it'?

Ye cannae have a go at the customers.

Ah! Fuck this, Wullie.

Fuck this!

What's the point of me even fucking being here'?

Fuck it!

Fuck!

Never a dull moment, eh'?

The lab results came back, sir.

They' re negative.

Brilliant.

What are you gonna tell the public?

The public can fuck off.

To date, there have been

five victims from the Glasgow area

and you haven't been able to make a connection

between any of them.

You don't even know where the bodies are,

except the bits the killer sent to the next of kin.

This case should be given to someone

with more local knowledge.

What exactly are you doing all day?

Late last night...

officers from this station

came into possession

of a valuable piece of evidence...

the exact nature of which

I am not at liberty to divulge.

So What's this new piece of evidence, sir'?

Nothing. I lied.

Which is why I'm in the shape of a frog.

The Superintendent wants to see you.

Of course he does.

What are you playing at, 127'?

If you walk into a room backwards,

with your trousers round your ankles,

don't be surprised if you get bummed rotten.

And never, never drag the force in with you.

I'll not have my team mass-bummed.

On your say-so!

Is that clear'?

Don't interrupt me.

You've got the whole country

thinking we've just about got this thing Wrapped up

when, as far as I can see,

in the two months...

two fucking months you've been on this case...

you've managed to narrow your list of suspects down to.

"People in the Glasgow area

who've been to the seaside in the last 12 weeks."

The killer will think we're onto 'im,

and might make a mistake, sir.

He'd fucking well better.

Fucking McManaman.

He's got to fill his day up somehow.

I mean, his in-tray consists of

staring out the window.

Whilst having a gentle wank over The Daily Star.

What's the big breakthrough?

Fuck off! It's my case.

Is it an actual breakthrough,

or is it just a we-made-it-up breakthrough?

What the fuck is that?

Inspiration!

Oh, I been meaning to ask ya,

"Touchy Little Boy' coming on'?"

Do you want to do this right now'?

'Cause I'm fucking well up for it!

Get your tits out of my face.

Come on, number six. Come on, number six!

Come on, get a move-on, get a fucking move-on!

Get a move-on!

Come on, come on!

You fucking shite!

You wee fucking shite! You fucking wee shite!

Fucking... fucking dog.

- Christ. - Here you go, Mum.

What kept you?

Celebrity booking?