The Football Factory - A Harrowing Encounter with the Carlin Cousins
Billy Bright:
Once upon a time, I did get fuckin done in, me and the lads went up to Dundee, and we got turned over by the two psychos known as the Carlin cousins, they fuckin sliced and diced through our whole squad, and then a squad of old bill, and three police horses couldn't stop them. They're fuckin insane.
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The Football Factory - Confrontation and Insult in Football Culture
Billy Bright:
You fucking little mug!
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The Football Factory - Confrontation and Hostility in Personal Conflict
Billy Bright:
I've never fucking liked you, you little cunt. Do you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking I should take you outside and open you up.
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The Football Factory - Strategizing for a Night Out
Billy Bright:
We'll get the beers safe and then we'll outflank em, yeah?
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The Football Factory - Frustration and Discontent Expressed Boldly
Billy Bright:
U fucking wanking off
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The Football Factory - Encouragement to Keep Moving Forward
Billy Bright:
C'mon, jog on!
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The Football Factory - Confrontation Among Friends
Billy Bright:
Are you tryin to mug me off in front of my pals?
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The Football Factory - Direct Approach to Conflict Resolution
Billy Bright:
Don't fuck about, ping him!
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Bend It Like Beckham - Misunderstandings About Love and Identity
Paula:
That's why she's been so depressed lately cạuse that Jess broke her heart! She's in love... ẈỊṬḤ Ạ ḠỊṚḶ!
Alan Paxton:
You're jumping to all the wrong conclusions.
Paula: [[George Michael]
But I heard her! No wonder she never looked twice at the Kevin or brought any boys home. I tried to get her nice clothes, you know we've had some lovely prints in this summer you know in swimwear and sarongs and that. She never wants to go shopping with me. It was terrible what they did to that ] going on about him and his private business in the papers like that! Oh no!
Alan Paxton: [''Ṗuts hịs hạṇd ạċross Ṗạulạ's bạċk oṇ her shoulder ''; [w:Wham!|Wham!]
George Michael is still a superstar and you still listen to ]
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Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels - Deception and Chaos in a Bar Encounter
Barfly Jack:
Rory? Yeah, I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated. He's a funny-looking fucker, I know, but you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing – it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone down the battlecruiser to watch the end of the football game. No one's watching the custard, so he switches the channel over. A fat geezer's north opens, and he wanders up and turns the Liza over. "Now fuck off and watch it somewhere else!" Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game. So, calm as a coma, he picks up a fire extinguisher, walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, and plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping-pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. "That's fucking it," says the geezer. "That's fucking what?" says Rory. And he gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty. He flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the geezer's lit up like a leaking gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turns back to his game. His team's won, too: four–nil.
Big Chris:
It's been emotional.
Big Chris:
All right, son. Roll them guns up, count the money, and put your seat belt on!
Dog:
Golf – the best way to spoil a good walk. Winston Churchill said that. I say it's a dog-eat-dog world. And I got bigger teeth than you two.
Hatchet Harry:
I don't want to know who you use, as long as they're not complete muppets.
J.D.:
You're lucky you're still breathing, let alone able to walk. I suggest you take full advantage of that fact.
Winston:
Charles, get the rifle out. We're being fucked!
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