Buntin Still Game

Aw, Jesus, look at the mess!

-Morning, Navid.

-Pete! I'll give you morning, ye arsehole! Look at this!

-It wisnae me.

-Shut up! If you were hungry you could have come to me

and said, "Navid, I am hungry."

I could have given you something to eat, like potato peelings.

Navid, I didnae dae this!

More lies. Pete, why don't you, if you'll pardon the pun, come clean?

-You're a smelly beggar and you like eating fae bins.

-It was a fox.

A fox? Describe this fox.

Er, red, bushy tail. Wee mad snout.

I see. Let me try and imagine the scene.

You are lying here on your arse when this fox gets into ma garbage.

Then the fox finds two old bananas.

He hungrily wolfs one down. Spots you, Pete the jakie, and feels compassion

because he's a kind-hearted fox. So he then gives you the other banana.

Leave it, Pete, the banana's humped ye.

Ohh!

I love a Sunday morning.

-Gies ye a chance to power down and look back on the week's toil.

-Aye.

What toil?

Going for your pension and that and all that entails, you know, etc.

Aye. Ye must be knackered.

Sit doon and I'll bring this through for ye.

Aw, ye know what I'm talking aboot.

-Sunday's a day aff, isn't it?

-Ye wanting a tomato in?

-Ooh, what size is it?

-It's a Lanark. Come on!

-Mm, I doubt if I could eat a whole one.

-Half each?

-Aye, half each.

Here - you seen this?

No.

"Craiglang Community Centre".

They're having their "grand opening".

-What do you think a "grand opening" is?

-Grand opening?

-I don't know. Queen and that.

-Naw, that would be a royal opening.

-It'll be somebody from the council.

-Naw, that'd be an official opening.

Hmmm... Grand...

Grand opening...

It'll be some arsehole off Take The High Road.

Or some daft, stupid weather lassie.

Do you remember we went to that supermarket...

and they had that what's-his-face guy. What was he called again?

-Oh, aye.

-The big fat bastard.

-Him off that cookery programme. Stands next tae that stupid cow?

-Aye.

Honking of drink at nine o'clock in the morning, cutting the ribbon.

That's right - big balloon! Snip, snip, cheque please! Thank you!

Pub. Glug glug glug glug glug glug. What a tit!

Well, here we are.

Not too much.

Mm, well, this looks nice.

You see, I cannae eat much in the morning.

I'm the same. I've got the appetite of a sparrow.

-Little and often. That's the key.

-Mm-hm. Ach, well. Bon appetit.

Enjoy. BURR-RRP!

A quality bit of bunting there, Bobby.

-Nice, innit?

-How much would you pay for that?

-Nothing.

-Free buntin'?! Where did ye get it?

-Brian Dexter's car showroom.

-Is he no' in the jail for drugs? Aye, he got ten years.

-Aye, so I took his buntin'.

-What?

-Ooh, stealing a gangster's buntin'.

-Gie's peace!

-He might come back for it.

-Do ye think?

OK, Tam. I'm Brian Dexter and I'm in my wee jail cell.

"What's happening in ma showroom? Is ma wife getting pumped?

"Never mind that. Who's got my buntin'? Where's my buntin'?" Rattling his bars,

screaming for the whole jail tae hear - "Where's ma buntin'?!"

Ye daft auld prick!

Where's the barman, Jack?

I dunno. I can see a big daft lassie up a ladder, but.

Aye. We can see right up your skirt, Bobby! See your frilly panties.

When you're finished fannying aboot with that buntin', Roberta, can ye give us a couple of pints?

What's a' that in aid of, Bobby?

-He's nicked Brian Dexter's buntin'.

-Oooh!

-No' you as well! It's for the community centre opening.

-What's that tae dae wi' you?

-There'll be dignitaries aboot. THIRSTY dignitaries. Passin' trade!

-If they've any brains, that's what they'll dae - pass.

-Passin' trade. You'll be lucky!

I'LL worry about ma business and YOUSE two worry about whether ye'll make it through another winter.

When are you gonnae realise, Bobby, that this place is a shithole?

-Accept it.

-Come to terms with it.

Try and deal with it. It's a coup!

And no amount of shitty buntin's going to change that.

-Oh, smashing! Two flat lagers.

-Fit for a dignitary.

You're clean. Beat it.

Wee wide-o. Keep your eyes on him, Meena. He's at the rob.

What?

I'm giein' it laldy to Pete, and you sit there like a windae-licker! When were you going to tell me?

Why?

I knew you weren't sleeping, you cow.

Pete! Wait! I want to apologise!

That was delicious. Another two pints of your flat lager, please.

-Hello, you two!

-Jesus! Isa.

-You wantin' a drink?

-No. I'm no' stopping. I popped in to tell ye...

Aye. Aye, a sweet sherry. Wait till ye see Pete.

-The jakie?

-Ye'll no' call him that when ye see him.

-How?

He's headed in here. Ye'll see for yersel'. I'm saying nothing!

-Are you all right, Isa?

-Aye. How?

-You saying nothing! Let me take your pulse.

-Get aff!

Charlie.

Hen. Isa. Jimmy.

-Glass of Thunderbird, Bobby.

-You can't judge an alky by his cover.

Do you, er...want that in a Martini glass?

Get it up ye!

Naw, naw, naw. That'll no dae at a'.

C'mere, you.

-Have ye won the lotto?

-Going tae a funeral?

-Or the court?

Are you Pete's rich twin? ALL SPEAK AT ONCE

Community centre. Opening tomorrow. ALL: Mmm.

Council bigwigs'll be there. ALL: Mmm.

What with me having been wi' internal operations, I've been called in to protect them.

MUTTERING

Look, I'm tellin' youse!

Don't talk shite. Internal operations? Who are you? 007?

Aye - licensed tae get pished!

-HUMS JAMES BOND THEME

-The name's Bastard. Alky Bastard.

Martini. Shaken, not stirred. Seven of them. And a kebab.

So there's me bawlin' at Pete - "Bloody bin raker!"

-then she tells me it was a fox. If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him.

-Will do. OK.

A fox, eh? Tough one. See if it was a rat, now,

you just set a trap for it, or poison it. End of problem. But a fox! How do you catch a fox?

-By becoming one.

-Eh? ..Shug.

The fox appears tae be a filthy bastard wi' stinking fur.

Thriving on rubbish.

Giving little in return.

But he's smart. Wily.

He's no' dirty. He's clean. Groomed.

Aye, there's more to Mr Fox than meets the eye.

He wants what you've got. When does he want it? Night time.

You have to outsmart him.

Be trickier than him.

See him in the very darkness he hides in.

Get under his skin.

Become him.

Pack of Yoyos, Navid.

What de ye make of that bugger Pete?

Bet he found that suit in a bin.

Internal operations.

Imagine Pete protectin' anybody.

You're awfy quiet, Bobby. What are you sayin' tae it?

-I don't know.

-Don't know what?

-Maybe he wis tellin' the truth.

-Whit? Get a haud of yerself.

-No. Listen.

I've never spoke aboot this before. It's gonnae sound stupid, but...

There was one night in here. Must have been - oh, 20 year ago...

MUSIC: "Gold" by Spandau Ballet

-De we have tae huv that again? Turn that shite aff!

-Shut up. I like it.

TURNS MUSIC UP

'It wis quiet. Just a couple of punters in.

'A few boys at the pool table.

'Pete was in. Just sittin' like he always does, reading' his paper.

'Next thing I know, a rammy starts up. Fightin', shoutin' and bawlin'.

'Here's the thing.

'By the time I get round the bar, two boys are lying decked out,

'and Pete's haudin' a third boy, who's sleeping like a baby.

'I says, "Whit's happened here?"

'"Nuthin," he says.'

What are ye sayin? That he set aboot them all?

It'd be the smell off him that knocked them oot.

Tam? Eric? You buyin' this?

-It's an odd story, right enough, Jack.

-Victor?

It's a lot of shite. We'll get tae the bottom of it. Come on.

-What is it we're doing?

-Well, we've got to find Pete and find out what he's talking aboot.

I suspect it'll be a lot of pish.

Mind you, that was a curious tale. How could Pete lay out three men single-handedly?

Maybe they've tried to take his drink off him and he's turned into the Hulk!

Waagh! Troosers all burst - "Give me back my pint!"

Where are youse two off to in a hurry? Is Navid selling incontinence pads at hauf price?

Very funny. Where are you going?

It's a big story. Navid's being plagued by a fox.

It's tearing away at his garbage and spreading its filth everywhere.

It's got to be stopped. I'm going up to Shug's. He's got some equipment.

We're going to hunt it doon. Exciting, eh?

-Exciting, aye.

-What are youse doing?

A certain somebody known to you... and us...

a man...

-may or may not be a covert agent for the Government.

-Eh?

We're placing him under oor surveillance to ascertain if he's telling the truth.

-That's really sad, that.

-What is?

You won't admit you've got nothing to dae. I'm doing something really interesting but you won't have it.

You're trying to top it with spy pish!

Whit?

If you're going to pull on woolly slippers to slurp tea while watching Fifteen To One,

be men enough to admit it.

Don't lie to me. Excuse me - I've got a fox to catch.

-Winston, we're telling you!

-OK. I'll play along with your wee game.

Who is your international man of mystery?

Pete the jakie.

Nope!

THEME FROM "The Pink Panther"

-God's sake. What are we doing?

-Eh?

-Following a tramp aboot the toon?

Desperate, isn't it?

Is that all we've got to do with our time - fill it up with this?

Dreamin' up secret agent shite?

We must be aff our nuts, eh?

-Come on. We'll jump back on the bus.

-Aye.

-Oh! Wait a minute, Jack.

-What?

-Look! He's headin' intae that big fancy hotel!

-So he is.

-Come on!

-Aye!

-Oh!

-See that?

-Aye!

Navid.

-Gentlemen. Right on time. Are we equipped?

-We are.

Come on, then.

-What have you got for me?

-Right, Navid...

Eh...

we've got scraps.

-To attract him. Chicken, pork and fat.

-Bait. Nice.

Then...we've got...

A stinger. 240 volts. Should render him immobile for about a minute.

Giving us time to batter him with a brick.

No! Giving us time to slip him in this bag.

-Throw him in the canal?

-No, release him in the countryside.

-Countryside.

-Guid yin. Humane. How are we gonnae see him? It's pitch black.

We'll see him, all right.

Wi' these.

Night goggles. Quality!

Winston. Put the lights out.

Ho-ho! These are the bollocks!

Brilliant, eh Winston? Winston?

Hey you, ya cheeky bastard!

-Nae butter on these?

-I've no' got any.

-There's Branston pickle there, if you want it.

-That'll dae.

-Here, what do you think we saw today?

-Oh, I don't know, Jack. We saw something, though.

The thing is, he couldnae have always been an alky.

-He must have done something before he hit the sauce.

-What do we actually know about him?

I cannae remember him ever working.

No, neither can I.

Maybe he's no' an alky at all - maybe he's leading a double life.

It'll be a turn-up for the books if he IS leading a double life.

Aye - after ripping the pish out o' him. What was it you said? "Licence to get pished."

-Och, that was hee-haw. It's you he'll be pissed off wi'.

-How?

You called him an alky bastard.

Do you think he will be pissed off?

I don't know. We went in pretty heavy on him.

Think he's gonnae rub us oot(?)

Eh?

Aye, kill us government-style, you know?

There you are, on your way to the Post Office.

In the queue - "Hello, Tam. Hello, Winston. Hello, Eric."

A face you don't recognise. Next thing...

Urgh! Stabbed with the poisoned end of a brolly. Assassinated!

Or you're sitting in the park, feeding the ducks, an old dear sits down next to you.

"Hello." But she's got stubbly legs.

Next thing, she's garotting you!

He wouldnae assassinate me, but.

-I'd see him coming.

-Oh, aye?

-Aye!

I'd chop away the brolly, grab him, birl him round and do that thing they dae in the pictures -

Urgh...krk! - snap his neck. "There ye are, ye bastard!"

-I cannae get that open.

-Give me it.

I'd pull his jaikit over his heid, pin his airms to his body!

I'd get the palm of my haun', smash it off his nose, kill him deid.

I cannae get that either.

Do you want to just eat these dry?

Another pint over here, Bobby, please.

-Is that the finishing touches for the morra?

-Aye.

..Did ye steal that fae Brian Dexter's showroom tae?

Aye... I had tae cut a bit aff it, but.

Bobby...

You might be right about Pete. We followed him intae the toun and he wis acting right suspicious.

-We saw him hookin' up wi' a couple of suits. There's definitely something gaun on.

-I telt youse.

Internal operations... >

..Pete?!

< Bobby...

Glass of Thunderbird?

Eh... No, water - I'm workin' the morra.

LAUGHTER That's right - snigger. Have a laugh.

Too much tae swallow that a smelly alky could have responsibilities?

Who'd want anythin' tae dae wi' me, eh? What good am I to anybody?

That's all right. You wait till the morra.

See who's sniggerin' then.

Oh, and by the way, your mission, should you choose to accept it -

sniff my manky ring!

No, I'll pass, if you don't mind.

-I'm bored oot ma tits, here.

-Shh! We've only been here hauf an hour.

So it's been 29 minutes since the novelty of these goggles wore aff?

What are you talkin' aboot?

I thought I wis going tae see Craiglang At Night -

break-ins, kids daein' graffiti, neds shaggin' in the park, knifings.

Instead, what huv we seen?

A dug takin' a dump. Rubbish.

Everything OK at the community centre?

-Everything OK at the community centre?

-(Polis!)

-Aye. Things should go off all right tomorrow.

-Good.

-I've got tae take a pish.

-Aye, me an a'. Ma back teeth are swimming.

We say we're looking for a fox.

We're wearing night-vision goggles - we look like assassins!

I borrowed these fae the Terries without tellin'! I'll get lifted!

THEY URINATE

Naw! This is too much for any man to take!

You pished all over my tank top! It's wringin', ya filthy bastard!

-Oh, I'll need to nick into Navid's for some tobacco.

-Righto.

-Shut.

-That's odd - he's normally open by noo.

Probably still in his bed, the big balloon.

-You know, they're throwing 30 grand at this community centre.

-Are they?

That's like pissin' in the wind round here - the council build it up and the neds pan it in.

-What's in it, anyway?

-A ping pong table, I think.

-Is that it?

-Aye.

-Jesus! Disneyworld.

-Isneyworld, mair like...

It gives me great pleasure

-to be here today.

-Naw, it doesnae.

With great admiration, I've watched the community of Craiglang grow and flourish...

Naw, ye huvnae.

-My father grew up here and always had the greatest respect for his home...

-Naw, he didnae.

-I only wish he was here to see this.

-Naw, ye don't.

I'm sure he would join me in congratulating Craiglang today as we open this wonderful facility,

for this building is a magnificent addition to a caring, thriving, forward-thinking community.

Naw, it isnae.

Oh... There's Pete!

-Where?

-There! By the councillor!

-Jesus, he wis right enough!

Pete!

ALL SHOUT

-He's wan of yer ain!

-Take your bloody hauns aff him!

Get your hauns aff him! ..Get off me!

Are you all right?

-Four bloody hours.

-We should punch your hole in, ye bastard.

Tellin' lies about workin' for the polis...

-Protectin' the councillor.

-Sorry.

-Why did ye dae it, Pete?

-Shut up, ya wee dick.

-Beat it!

We saw you getting intae a lift wi' two heavies.

Aye. Well, I stood beside them so you'd think I wis wi' them.

You werenae wi' them?

You havnae got 20p for a cup of tea?

Naw...

-So that was a' shite?

-Sorry.

-You're reekin' of pish.

-No, that's me.

-Eh?

-A cop pished on my tank top.

-What?

-Never mind.

Why did ye tell a' thae lies, Pete?

I'll tell ye why. Have you any idea what it's like to be me?

Pete the jakie? Pete the tramp?

Smelly Pete? ..Eh?

Craiglang - it's a shitehole. And I'm the shiteiest thing in it.

That's how people think about me and I'm sick of it.

So I made up those lies - that I was important, that I was somebody.

Big deal. So what?

Noo ye know - I'm a naebody.

-Bollocks!

-Aye, bollocks.

-Sat in a cell for 4 hours - ma arse is numb!

We've just done time for you, ya arsehole! Easy, easy.

Calm doon. You'll get us lifted again!

Jack. Victor. You're being a bit harsh.

We are all just out the jail. Emotions are running a bit high. We're all a bit raw.

So he told a lie and it got a bit out of hand. We all tell lies.

We shouldn't be singling him out because of what he is.

Let's get a drink and have a laugh about it. We could dae wi' one.

-Aye, I'll take a half.

-A wee pint.

-How did a polis come tae pish oan yer tank top?

-We were fox hunting.

That's another thing. There wisnae any fox - I raked through your bins.

You dirty, smelly, useless bin-rakin' bastard - I'm going to rip yer jaw!

It's good tae have ye out, Brian. It's guid tae BE out.

So, what's been happening?

Oh, your business is doon the tubes, Bobby nicked yer buntin', Davie Taylor's shaggin' yer missus.

Back up a bit...

Who's got ma buntin'?

Subtitles by BBC Broadcast - 2003

E-mail us at [email protected]

Hello? Yes, sir. ..No, thank YOU, sir.

Oh, they still think I'm a tramp.

Really? Where would that be, sir?

Eh? ..Thursday, midnight?

Eh, I'll need a chopper... and, eh...six cans?