Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Don't ask me. I ain't fucking touching 'em.
He's watching our every move. Who's next, me?
Bingo Bongo
That's not to say we don't weave that magic that makes two kilos into three,
started to make sense.
- You killed Crazy Larry? - So?
Listen, I just had a phone call from Gazza.
You look well flush, bruv.
Jimmy wants 50% netto.
That way, we all come out with something.
Chuck 'em a few quid, they'll cough.
I reckon they've gone back to London.
We've looked everywhere. There's no sign.
Shut the fuck up!
Brexit
actually volunteered to dispose of the body.
13 million pounds! How could you be so fucking stupid?
Paul and the tide ain't gonna wait.
Look...
Know and respect your enemy.
That's why he set up the whole Amsterdam business with Duke.
Morty learnt caution the hard way. He did ten years inside.
for smuggling two million quid's worth of puff.
We can't rely on these monkeys to call Gene.
Don't, don't for fucks sake Buy everything on the list
Somebody's about to get a fuckin slap.......yes Morty!!!
This Dragan geezer is phoning me. I am the target.
You understand?
But I've come unstuck in my attempts to provide a spectacle for my chums.
Details, Detsils…
They're wanted by the United fucking Nations. Think about that.
Charlie woke up, found him cold, freaked out, fucked off down to Brighton.
Although that one is really pretty.
Where?
Black's the colour for a hearse or a taxi.
Flinging up skyscrapers. His wife's a proper blue blood.
No fucking problem. Boys will be boys.
I saw it with my own eyes, man.
This monkey business is in your blood, under your skin.
Hello, Slavo. Yeah, this is Duke.
Always remember, the art of good business is being a good middleman.
Or me.
She's off to Arizona for a course of intense treatment.
- Look at your arm. - Fuck off!
hhhh
Crazy Larry.
- I've got him. - Got who?
- What a fucking mess. - You've gone mad.
The one he stole from my flat.
Yes Rogers You hore x
That's an understatement. They were a spun-out bunch.
I find it very relaxing. Good for meditation.
That's good news. That should cheer Gene up.
It's no coincidence I met them at your tournament.
Calm down. You'll feel better once you've got your money.
- Are you listening? - Dragan...
Leave it to me, lads. I'll explain to lnspector Cox
St Martin's Hotel.
Morty.
- Think you're a gangster? - Fuck off!
Tell me what? Have you let him go?
- How does that sound? - Sounds very hospitable.
If you do, you'll wish this Dragan had shot you between the eyes, understand?
You tell him when, and he'll come down on the train.
Can you see that guy on the left?
What's really bothering me is what colour to get the Aston.
It's called sacrifice, son. Ask Gene. Ask Morty.
Do you know what a remora fish is?
But he got unlucky because this lot are wanted for fucking war crimes.