All right.
l'll do it for a caravan.
A what?
A caravan.
-Top of the range and all that.
-lt was us that wanted a caravan.

Anyway, what's wrong with this one?
lt's not for me.
lt's for me ma.

Your what?
His ma.
Brick Top runs an illegal bookies.
They take bets on anything
that involves blood and pain.

Now I'm changing fighters...
...and Brick Top's gonna
exploit the situation.

He's gonna pull my pants down,
grease me up...

...and aim for penetration.
IfI didn't have
the replacement pikey...

...he'd want to split me in half.
They could charm the paint off walls,
these fellas.

Look mean now,
you hairy fucker, won't you?

Shits himself when
you put him in the ring.

Poke him with a stick,
you watch his bollocks grow.

Do you like a dog fight, Turkish?
We've lost Gorgeous George.
You're gonna have to repeat that.
We've lost Gorgeous George.
Well, where'd you lose him?
He ain't a set
of fucking car keys, is he?

And it's not as if he's
incon-fucking-spicuous, is it?

We're not backing out.
You bet your bollocks to
a barn dance you're not.

We're changing the fighter.