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: Keith. Keithy. oi, oi.
: Talkin' to me?
: What? School Bully
: I never knew Keith Chegwin had a son. Shaun
: Piss off. School Bully
: What the fuck are they? Shaun
: These, I'm wearing them for a bet, what's your excuse? School Bully
: Cheeky Bastard. Woodstock's that way pal. Shaun
: Fuck off, at least I don't look like count Dracula. Shaun
: You think your funny yeh? Shaun
: yeh. School Bully
: You think your funny you little spaz? Shaun
: Yeh. School Bully
: You want to hear a fucking joke yeh? Shaun
: Yeh, yeh go on then School Bully
: How many people can you fit into a mini? Shaun
: I don't fucking know how many? School Bully
: Three in the back, two in the front, and your fucking dad in the ashtray. Shaun
: You fucker!
: I loved when you gave me that cake, that was sweet. Did you make it yourself? Shaun
] Ya Smell
: You didn't make it yourself, did you? Shaun
: [after Shaun finally leaves the shop
] Oh, and you're banned. Shaun
: Oh, and you're a mong.
: I just wondered if you'd like to be my girlfriend. I think you're lovely.
: Get me... 'undred fags, two bottles of wine, a bottle of whisky, and ten cans of lager now. Mr. Sandhu
: You know what you're gonna have? Nothing! Shaun
: What? Mr. Sandhu
: You know you're not supposed to be in here. Go. Out. Bang. Shaun
: Just fucking get them, you Paki bastard! Mr. Sandhu
] What did you say? Shaun
: Get them you FILTHY - PAKI - BASTARD! Mr. Sandhu
: Right! That's it!
[Begins chasing Shaun around the shop until he catches him
] Mr. Sandhu
: That's it! Shaun
: Get off! Mr. Sandhu
: Get out! Combo
: [Entering the shop
] What's going on, mate? You gotta problem? Mr. Sandhu
: [Wrestling Shaun towards the door
] He's been calling me a Paki bastard. Just open the door and I'll let him out. Go on, mate. Combo
: [Suddenly brandishing a huge knife
] GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HIM NOW! FUCKING HANDS OFF HIM!
: [Milky is bloody and unconscious
] Oh, Combo, what have you done to 'im? Combo
: Men don't cry! Remember, men don't cry!
: [Last scene. Shaun drowns his St George's Cross Flag in a pond then stares mournfully into the camera
: At least I don't look like Dracula!
: [after walking in on his mother having sex with Mr. Sandhu
] Are you...? Did...? You... you had to fuck him for my job? Cynthia Fields
: No, son, I haven't fucked him for your job. I like him, son. Shaun
: You what? You like... you like it with him? Cynthia Fields
: Yeah, Shaun. I do. Shaun
: [imitating Mr. Sandhu
] Close the shop, Shaun. Do your business, Shaun. I wanna fuck your mam, Shaun. Mr. Sandhu
: It isn't like that, huh? Shaun
: You're a fucking liar! Mr. Sandhu
: Look, Shaun... I'm a good man, huh? I... I... I care about your mother. I have great, great respect... Shaun
: He doesn't even speak properly, mum! Cynthia Fields
: Shaun, stop it please! I'm sorry, son. I know it's a shock. I've got feelings too, you know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but... but he's moving in, Shaun. Shaun
: No, he's not! He's not, because if he moves in, then I'm off! I'm not even bothered, mum, I'll go and live on the docks! I'm not staying here with him! Cynthia Fields
: Shaun, don't be silly, please! Shaun
: I'm not being silly, I swear! I'm not staying here with him!
[to Mr. Sandhu
: You're a fucking greasy wanker, Sandhu! Cynthia Fields
: Shaun... Shaun
: And you, mum, you should be ashamed of yourself! You should be! Dad'd be ashamed of you, I'm ashamed of you, you should be ashamed of yourself! Cynthia Fields
: Your dad wasn't a racist, Shaun. Shaun
] I don't mean 'cause he's coloured! I mean, because you're doing it behind my back! Like some worthless little slag off the estate! Listen, Cynthia, don't ever speak to me again! Both of you, rot in hell! Cynthia Fields
: [Shaun leaves and Cynthia breaks down in tears and whispers
] Shaun... I'm sorry.
[to Mr. Sandhu
] Cynthia Fields
: I'm sorry...