The Hooligan Factory

Look at me.

I said look at me.

Danny!

Danny, it's me, mate.

Your old mate Mickey!

Here, Jack, have a look. You'll never guess who it is.

It's only young Danny.

- Our Danny? - Yeah.

Danny?

What the fuck's he doing in a motor with Tony and Pat?

Yes, Dan. What are you doing in a motor with Tony and Pat?

I thought you had more sense than that.

I don't know what you're talking about. Don't know no Tony.

That was me mate Jeff.

Are you telling us that ain't Tony T?

Jack, what do you reckon?

Erm...

Don't know, Mickey.

I shot him in the face.

Oh...

No.

Oh, mate, what a fucking mess.

I'm so sorry, Dan. I feel so embarrassed.

How about the other geezer in the back?

- Paul - Paul

Paul, Paul, Paul.

- Jack. - Yo.

- Did you shoot the other geezer in the... - Yep.

Shot him in the face, too.

I don't know what to say, mate.

Feel terrible. Terrible.

Look at your motor.

I've left it in a right two and eight, ain't I?

- It's all right. - No it ain't, Dan.

- Because there's blood. - Brains.

And brains. And that ain't never gonna come out.

Never.

Probably them, innit?

Right, Dan, listen we got to slip away. But you be lucky, yeah.

- Right, Jack, let's crack on, son. - Let's do it.

Third time lucky.

It was the end of an era

Well, for them lot anyway.

For me, it was only the beginning.

But before the pills and the clubs, the birds, the booze,

the torture and the tracksuits, there was football.

And more importantly, football-related violence.

Because as far back as I could remember, I always wanted to be an hooligan.

Well, I suppose we'd better start near the beginning.

School.

What a shithole. But we made the most of it.

Oh, have a look. That's me there.

That's me best mate Fanta.

And this wanker is Mr Burroughs.

Something funny, Johnson?

No, sir.

Passing notes.

Come on then. Come up to the front.

We're all very keen to share the joke.

Yes, sir.

Ooh!

Like I said, wanker.

- It says that you had... - To the whole class.

It says that you had Freddie Fitzpatrick round your house for extra maths tuition.

Really, Johnson?

And that you made him watch while you touched your willy.

And then bent him over and tongued his butthole.

- Anything else? - Yeah, there's a picture here and all.

Well, that's you, sir.

And that's obviously you, Freddie.

Johnson, you're going to end up just like your father.

Now this didn't sound like such a bad thing to me.

But I got the feeling he meant it as an insult.

You wanna make one with me, son, do ya?

That's me old man, Danny Senior, the fucking legend.

You want to make one with me? Do you know who I am?

Do you know who I am? What you looking at?

Come on then, oh, come on their attack...

It was a shame he had to ruin the game, though,

because I wasn't a bad little player.

Right, it's fucking on now.

A scout from Man United came to our school once and tried to get me to sign.

Done you a favour there, son.

That mob are never gonna amount to nothing.

- Hold that, mush. - Mr Johnson.

This is a school. Mr Johnson!

Yep, my old man loved football.

Never back down, son.

Do you hear me? Always stand your ground. Stand your ground!

So I took a leaf out the old man's book and said.

Fuck off, you two-bob slag.

Of course it turns out Burroughs was fiddling Freddie Fitzpatrick after all.

And they told me I could come back to school

But fuck that.

Mr Johnson, due to your complete lack of remorse for your crime

and your repeated failure to show any signs of wanting to change your lifestyle,

I sentence you to five years.

Without possibility of parole.

Bailiff, take the prisoner down.

Five years. He could have done it standing on his head.

Oh, yeah.

Order!

He ended up getting 30 years for head-butting the bailiff,

spitting on the clerk of the court, booting this ginger bird in the face

and assaulting the judge.

You fucking knob. You fucking knob!

The newspaper said he was the first man in history to make a judge eat his own syrup.

Eat the fucking wig!

Fucking legend.

And with me still a boy, I was sent to live with me granddad Albert,

while me old man was sent to do his bird.

- What time's dinner in this gaff, Fur Face? - Keep moving, scumbag.

What the fuck's that all about then?

Now, now, 4737.

We don't want any trouble like we had last year.

The boys here have all clubbed together.

Bought you a little hat, to say sorry.

Very well.

Happy birthday, 4737.

Enjoy your cake.

Baron.

Oi, oi, Granddad. What's happening?

What's for dinner? I am fucking Hank Marvin.

What the fuck's all this then, Granddad?

What the fuck's all this?

What you talking about, you dozy little mare?

I told you, I'm moving to Australia with Cyril.

Since when?

I told you months ago to get your own place.

What you been doing all this time, hmm?

Sitting on your arse smoking weed with that ginger faggot.

I thought I could just live here.

I told you, Dan, I sold the place. Moving to warmer climes.

Nothing left for me around 'ere.

What am I supposed to do?

Time to grow up, son.

Make something of your life.

Do the fucking collar, get some reddies.

So what you gonna do then?

Don't take this the wrong way, mate,

but recently I've been starting to think there's got to be something more than this.

You ain't gonna get a job, are you?

No, what I'm saying is my old man was a legend. A face.

Look at me.

You know, I want to be someone. Want to be part of something.

Okay, here's another one. Oi, mate!

Fucking brilliant.

Yeah, this has been fun and all, mate, but I gotta chip back home and pick up me stuff.

Oh, Dan, mate, why don't you stay round mine a couple of days,

just until you get back on your feet?

No, don't worry about me, mate. I'm sweet.

This time next week I'll bell you from me penthouse.

- Yeah? - Yeah, fucking right, mate.

We'll have a proper party. Birds, booze, the lot.

Oh, mustard, mate! Here we go. Have a look. Oi, love!

Oh, fuck off, you pair of melts. That's the oldest trick in the book.

Ooh!

Yeah, anyway, as I was saying, go get your stuff and I'll meet you later on.

We can have a few bevvies. Celebrate your independence.

On me. Fancy an ice cream?

- Yeah, go on then, mate. - What flavour?

- Anything. Don't get lemon. - All right.

Oh, my fucking God! It's her off the telly.

Oh, shit. Yeah, it is.

Time to go, 4737.

You're a free man today.

Baron!

You take care of yourself then, Dex.

Don't you be getting in no more trouble now, you hear.

Fuck off, screw.

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Barry, it's happened again.

Fucking how many times? I'm on fire again!

Fucking burning!

Chop, chop. We're gonna nip through Harry Brown's tunnel. It's quicker.

Yeah, hello.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Karen! Karen!

You called me, babe? What's the matter?

Get our fucking kids out of here.

Go round your mum's and don't come back until I call you. All right?

Oh, shit! Quick, kids! Get your fucking coats on, we're going to your gran's!

For fuck's sake, not again!

I told you, "Never call my mobile."

I got kids, for fuck's sake.

You wanker!

But now they're out the way.

Let's do this.

Hola, my little Spanish prince.

Tickle my front bottom, mate.

What?

Oh, yeah.

I'm getting huge for you.

Pablo, I want you to fuck me like you did in Torremolinos.

Do you remember, boy?

Baron!

Who the fuck is that?

It's Dex.

Who?

- It's Dex. - Hold on a minute.