Sexy Beast

Why do you love me?

- Because when I'm with you, I'm not afraid.

- You've always had a window, you knew that.

It's gotta be done, Gal.

- You don't want something shoved up your ass?

I heard you love it.

How the fuck'd you do that?

- What the fuck is this all about?

- He's been fucking a porn star for months,

- Gal ain't gonna marry that tart.

- What's the matter, girl? - No, you stay out of it, Dad.

I'm sorry, Marj.

No!

Larry Taylor.

Have you seen him, Ann Marie?

No, no, no, no, no, no.

- Fucking hell! - Alan! Fuck you! Stop!

Did you have a good time?

Don't worry.

It's not as bad as it looks.

Some drunks fancied themselves.

Stag do got a bit lairy is all.

So nothing to do with her?

I need some painkillers.

Oh, fuck.

Tell me who she is.

"She" who?

The "she" you're fucking.

What?

Don't.

Don't what?

Just tell me who she is.

Please, Gal. - You tell me,

'cause I ain't got a clue here, Marj.

- What did you think would happen?

That you'd just keep screwing her?

Hoping that you just wouldn't get an hard-on for her

as soon as the ring was on your finger?

Was that your plan? - What are you talking about?

Don't lie to me, Gal!

- Well, you need to tell me what's going on here, Marj.

Ann Marie told me.

And Don.

Told you what?

A fucking--

A porn star.

- Porn star? - Fucking stop that!

Hey.

Stop fucking laughing at me!

Hey, you fucking stop it.

Since when have you ever listened to Ann Marie?

You know what she's like with you.

Oh. And Don?

- Yeah, they're fucking with me, both of them.

No, she sounded convincing,

and Don was pretty fucking serious too!

- Oh, Don's always fucking serious.

Just fuck--just--

just fucking tell me.

Just tell me.

Just tell me. Please, just tell me the truth!

I can't fucking deal with this--

- Listen. You need to calm down.

You listen to me very fucking carefully, OK?

I'm gonna tell you.

All right, I'm gonna tell you.

But you need to promise me something.

You cannot breathe a word of this...

ever.

Larry got himself...

shot in the head,

and Ann Marie has convinced herself

that I've got something to do with it.

So she will do anything to royally fuck with me.

Why would Don say it too?

- 'Cause she would have been in his ear.

You know what Don's like with women.

Do you remember that-- that night with that bird Sara?

He doesn't know if he wants to fuck 'em or kill 'em.

Women fucking terrify him.

- What's that got to do with this?

- Ann Marie knows how to get into his head.

She's lying?

Babe.

Hey.

Oh, fuck.

Look, we can talk about it in the morning, all right?

We'll get it sorted with Ann Marie.

- I'll get you some paracetamol.

Fucking move!

Move!

Fuck, shite. Fucking--

Let's just blow the wall.

- Blowing the wall ain't an option.

Might blow the whole fucking place down.

It won't sound like no fireworks neither.

- You're a liar, Gal. - What?

- We need to deal with the Pete thing.

Who did it, eh?

- Done what? We will after the job.

But we've only got 24 hours to figure this out.

- The kicking, them cuts on your face.

No, I don't think so, Gal.

- No, just one fucking thing at a time, eh, Aitch?

- Well, so what are we supposed to do,

just forget about it, then? - That's not what I said,

but we drop the ball on this job,

and whoever fucked with Pete is the least of our worries.

Teddy Bass won't fucking blink

before shooting us all in the head.

- Who was he? - I told you, a mugging.

- You didn't say it was a mugging.

- Just drop it, Don! Fucking hell.

- "Drop it, Don." "Drop it, Don."

- He said he got jumped. - Fuck off, will you?

Yes, Don!

For once, drop it and shut the fuck up.

That fucking mouth!

I swear to fucking God, Don, that piehole of yours

is gonna get you killed someday, mate.

I want you to think this through again.

With the thickness of the concrete,

we'll never get through it with our kit.

What the fuck are those service tunnels all about?

Mace, we need the as-built plans.

You must know someone that can get us them.

- Building control might have them.

But without the right cutting gear, we'll never get through.

Fucking hell.

I need to go see someone.

Get me them plans, Mace.

You want me to come, Gal?

No.

Fucking brave coming here

after the way she was last night.

I never seen nothing like it. This better be good, Gal.

- She got the wrong end of the stick.

Here we fucking go.

It was a misunderstanding.

I swear on me mum's life. It was Ann Marie.

She put 1 and 1 together. She got 11.

- Oh, so who'd you fall out with, then?

'Cause I assumed that Marj

took a fucking wine bottle to you.

- I got jumped. That's why I missed the stag.

But listen, you can--

me and Marjorie, we've got it sorted.

And she'll tell you. She'll tell you herself.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

- Look, whatever you've done, whatever you haven't done,

you need to get her down the aisle quick.

Get your feet under the table, your snout in a trough,

and then it's all gravy, boy.

Kath and I are thinking of throwing a little extra cash

at the honeymoon, you know, make it special.

- No, you don't need to do that.

No, I know I fucking don't!

Don't worry about that. - All right.

Jeez, these are all contracts, Keith?

I mean, Marj said you were doing well, but fucking hell.

It's boom time, Gal.

Docklands, all along the Thames.

Huge developments springing up

where the old warehouses used to be.

And I am gobbling up the groundwork contracts

like that fucking...

Little yellow video game fucker.

- Pac-Man. - Yes, Pac-Man.

I signed two this morning.

- It's groundworks you do, innit?

- And demolitions. We do full turnkey to damp.

- No, no, no. I remember.

You got that high-pressure kit.

No, it's high-frequency.

Cutters, hyperbaric welders. The best there is.

- What the fuck, Alan? - Listen, babes--

- You could have fucking killed him.

- Oh, come on. He was still walking.

What was I supposed to do, eh? You won't talk to me.

- So, what, you brought a fucking gang?

- You were fucking the guy in his car.

- You knew exactly what you were gonna do

when you found him, so don't make this about me.

- Hey, where you going? - None of your business.

- Dee, look, can we please talk about this?

- There's nothing to talk about, Alan.

Not anymore.

I'm done.

- They're all coming for you, boy.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.