The Van

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See your team got beat again last night. Stop.

He has to go. Useless.

What's wrong with you? Are you all right?

I'm grand.

Got a bit of bad news today, knocked me back a bit.

I was let go. What?

Let go, made redundant.

I'm like you now, Larry, a man of leisure, huh?

It's gas, isn't it? How come?

Ten of us got letters.

Chap from the office says they'll be getting their cakes from england.

The only way they can compete. The prick.

What bastards, what?

Well, we can keep each other company now.

Oh, yeah. Fuckin' sure.

Me father, God rest him, got me in there. That's right.

Never forget comin' home with me first wage packet.

Ran all the way with me hand in me pocket to stop me money from fallin' out.

And a bag of fruit slices.

I was more excited about them than I was about the money.

I knew me sisters would go mad when they saw them.

Marie's young one has epilepsy, did I tell you?

N-no. Is that right?

It'll be all right. Come on. There's people looking at you.

Well, what am I going to do, Larry?

- You were a poxy Baker anyway. - Now, now, now. There's no bleedin' need for that.

Come here. Come here.

This lump sum, how much will you be getting?

Don't tell him. Don't know. A few thousand.

- I-I don't know. - We got bleedin' nothing.

He'll crack up without something to do.

Will you shut up, the fuck? There's loads of things for him to do.

- Like what? - Do up his house.

His house is already done up. It's like fuckin' Graceland.

His garden then. There's loads of things for him to do.

Shut up, the lot of youse. A toast. Yeah, a toast.

To unemployment. Unemployment. Oh, Jesus.

¶ Row, row, row the boat ¶

¶ gently down the stream ¶

¶ merrily, merrily merrily, merrily ¶

¶ life is but a dream ¶¶

¶ hey ¶¶

sugar puffs? No, got them.

Shredded wheat. Yuck!

No, something. I've definitely forgotten something.

I can feel it. Stop fighting there.

At least you'll be at work.

Oh, love, there will be more work.

There will.

Stop fighting now, or these go. Now!

About bleedin' time.

You coming for a game? Oh, no.

Come on. Why not? I have to bring the kids swimming.

No, you don't. The water will still be there tomorrow.

And the day after tomorrow.

I hate swimming.

Come on.

Right sleeve, left sleeve.

I don't want to. You'll only beat me again. I'll give you shots.

I don't want shots. Shut up.

Keep your head down.

Club back.

Now then. What?

Hit it. I can't.

Of course you can. Go on.

I can't. You're making me nervous.

Me eyes are closed. Lookit.

Good man. Lovely.

Oh, good Jesus. Hey!

Hey, you fuckin' clown! Sorry.

No harm done.

Keepin' your fuckin' ball for that.

Empty. We might be in luck. Come on.

It should be on at night, you know. It's good enough to be.

No one. Jesus!

¶¶

Here we are, bang on time. Sit down there.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, Teresa lowe.

- Your woman's a fine thing, isn't she? - Hello there,

and welcome to where in the world, swhere two more teams are itching...

how many sugars do you take? One and a bit.

Grand.

¶ And I can't get used to not living next door to Alice ¶

¶ Alice, Alice who the fuck is Alice ¶¶

how are you, Mary? How was work?

Great. Loads of dirt on the carpets. I love that.

I have bimbo inside.

I'm trying to cheer him up, show him the ropes, you know.

"George eliot." Never heard of him.

Her.

Oh. Uh. I'm thinking of taking a few classes meself.

You're too late. You'll have to wait till next year.

Oh, well.

There, that's better, what?

Thanks.

Don't mention it.

I'll leave you alone.

Any hard ones yet? Mind you, the prizes are utter shite.

I never heard of him. You did. Axl.

- I fuckin' didn't. - You fuckin' did.

Swear-box, ma. I was only quoting him.

- Axl? - ¶ Take me back to paradise city ¶

¶ where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, oh ¶

yo, ma. Hey, give us a look at that.

Now, which one is axl?

Oh, geez. No wonder the young ones scream when they see him.

Look at the state of him. He's only jealous.

So what about you? Look at the state of you.

Don't forget who paid for that dinner in front of you, son, all right?

I know who paid for it. The state.

- You prick. - Stop that.

The swear-box, now, go on.

This is lovely.

Uh, the Jacks. Be back in a minute.

Stop it.

I was only joking. Stop.

Write that down, and keep by the phone...

In case we ring, and remember, we double that...

If you answer the phone the right way.

Don't say "hello."

Say, "dublin's better music mix, 98 f.M.,"

and we'll give you two grand...

it's a lot better than nothing, love. After 25 years?

We'll find plenty to do with it anyway. We'll have a nice Christmas.

The last one. Oh, stop it.

We could get two chickens. They taste just as nice.

No way. It's a fuckin' Turkey or nothing.

Lookit. We'll write everything down and see what we can get away with.

Ah, what's the point? Oh, Larry.

All right, go on then.

Right.

Presents first.

Nothing for you and me.

Okay? Yeah.

- Diane? - Look, a couple hundred quid from a money lender. I know...

no, Larry.

Diane doesn't mind.

She doesn't need anything.

What about Kevin?

Jesus, I fuckin' hate it.

Yeah.

Greenhouse effect, me bollocks.

It was lovely earlier though.

You wouldn't know what to wear, so you wouldn't.

Wish I had a decent fuckin' coat.

Still asleep.

Just as well.

She makes enough noise, doesn't she, bimbo?

That's what they're supposed to do at her age.

She's lovely. Isn't she, but?

Wish I could sleep like that.

Yes. Oh, fabulous.

Nice one, what?

In you go.

It's a grand smell comin' from the kitchen, what?

- What's that? -

Oh, thank fuck for that.

Oh, hey, weslie! Happy Christmas.

Come on.

Ah, there's the man. How are youse?

Happy Christmas. Happy Christmas.

Get that fuckin' pinny off you, will you?

How are you, vera? Grand, Larry. Happy Christmas, now.

Uh, the girls are in the kitchen. Good for them.

How are you, missus?

Hey, she's lookin' better than she did last year. Vera.

Bimbo, there's a funny whiff off your mommy-in-law.

Stop! I'm serious.

Go over. Bimbo, the smell is fuckin' atrocious.

Oh, my God.

Is she after doing something to herself? Well, it could just be a fart.

But I'd check it out.

I can smell something meself.

Bimbo, this could ruin your Christmas dinner.

He did this to his brother last night, the exact same thing.

I can't smell anything. Oh, you must have a cold, because I'll tell you,

it's gettin' fuckin' worse.

It isn't, is it?

God, this is desperate.

How are you, vera? How are you, weslie? Happy Christmas.

Never mind Christmas. Your mother...

she has a name, you know. That's not all she has, chicken.

Fuck. Sorry.

Has to be here. I seen it landing.

Look, say to yourself, "ah, fuck it. I'm giving up." And start walking away.

Then you'll find it.

Any luck? No.

It usually works.

I have a spare one with me. Come on.

Come on, come on. Be 20, be 20, be 20.

Yes! 20 quid! Yea!

Twenty quid, 20 quid, 20 quid. Lovely. Thank you very much.

Come on, little love.

Yes. Fire away. Yee-hoo!

Come on, we're drinking. Ah, no. It's your money.

Sure. You were standin' beside me. Hey, he'll pay.