Wankers! Fuck off!
- Have I seen you before somewhere?
- The Rock's our local.

- Must be it, then?
- How long've you been going here?

- A couple of years. And you?
- Born and bred, since schooldays.

- Wouldn't put up with them otherwise.
- You fucking Arsenal scum!

You go up for a pint
and end up with a load of Gooners.

Nick, mate. Duck...
- Gumbo, is it your round or what?
- It's my shout.

No, let Ponce-Bonce get them.
- It's alright, I got paid today.
- (NIK): Yeah? Makes a fucking change.

(MARTIN): Mind the table, Gumbo.
90 nicker a week he makes.
Packing jars of gherkins into boxes.

He's fucking useless.
Last year his old girl pops her clogs.
He falls apart.

Can't boil an egg, fries himself
changing a light bulb.

He's a silly runt. Every time he gets
into a ruck he loses another tooth.

We're running a book
as to when he loses his last one.

I'm down for September,
so I'm looking after him 'til then.

- We fucking love you, Gumbo.
- About fucking time.

- That's it, you're nicked!
- You heard nothing, alright?

- What's the matter with you?
- Sorry, John.

(ALL):# Shadwell never, never, never
shall lose face

# Though you hate us we couldn't give a toss
Shadwell always, always, always are the boss