_We can barely see Tim in the low light....

_We can barely see Tim in the low light. He starts singing low and falls away into a snoring sleep. _

Tim: For it’s a grand old team to play for – sure it’s a grand old team to know – for if - you know – the history – it’s enough to make your heart grow oh oh f#%k the zombies we don’t care what the animals say – what the hell do we care – for we only know that there’s going to be a show and the Glasgow Celtic will be there…

By now Tim is snoring loudly. The official buzzer goes. We hear a heavy prison door swing open.

Harry: Step this way madam.

Harry approaches with Billy, 25, Rangers fan. Billy is angry.

Billy: That Judge is a f#%kin maniac! (They come into the cell Billy is wearing a red white and blue jesters hat) Been snortin too much coke.

Harry: Calm down son.

Billy: Sticks me doon here – tells ma wife to go’n raise the money.

Harry: You’re a latecomer.

Billy: I’m the last wan.

Harry: Are you? Good! Off to the game?

Billy: Aye - how’d ye know?

Harry: Your daft hat son!

Billy: Och – I forgoat I had this oan wi gettin lifted an that.

They arrive outside Tim’s cell.

Harry: Shoes. (Billy takes off his red white and blue shoes) Have ye got a belt?.

Billy shakes his head and the bells on his hat ring. Harry leaves.

Billy: Hey! It’s pitch black in here.

Harry: (walking away) I’ll switch the light back on. When I’m cleaning the cells.

Billy: F#%kin hell man! (he sniffs) Aw, it’s f#%kin howlin in here. It’s a wall.. of course it’s a wall ya f#%king doughball. Arghh ya f#%king bastard ye. (He feels his way about the cell) What the f#%k’s going on!

He makes his way to the snoring Tim.

Tim: Whoah – who’s that?

Billy: Who’s that?

Tim: I asked you first ya dick.

Billy: F#%kin fines.

Tim: I’m the same. Gettin ready for the game. Bastards crashed in an lifted me.

Billy: I was eatin ma breakfast. Ham n eggs an aw. Bunch of c#nts.

Tim: Can they not catch pedophiles or somethin?

Billy: Aye like aw they c#nts up in coronation street.

Tim: Here (slaps the bench) huv a seat.

Billy: Where?(Tim beats a football chant out on the bench till Billy stumbles over and sits down) Wife never had the money.

Tim: Neither did mine.

The light clicks on. In shock they get up and stumble back from each other. Tim stares at Billy with his mouth hanging open.

Tim: Ye’re kiddin!

Billy: Aw whit the f#%k is this?

Tim crashes to the hatch.

Tim: (to Harry) Ye’re f#%kin kiddin!

Billy sticks his head through shouting at Harry.

Billy: Hey - is this some kinda sick joke? Ye’ve stuck me down here wi this Fenian bastard. (BANG! Tim boots Billy up the arse) Agh! Ya f#%kin bastard!

They ad lib insults until Harry comes rushing into the cell.

Tim: (Pretending to be hurt) Argh! Ma head!

Harry: Right what’s the score?

Tim: Is ma head bleedin?

Billy: He attacked me.

Tim: I attacked you? It was that c#nt that attacked me! Look!

Tim shows Harry his head.

Harry: (avuncular) Let me see.

Harry inspects Tim’s head.

Billy: Watch out for nits!

Harry: Nothing.

Tim: Nothing? It’s killin me. It’s like that – throb throb.

Tim feels his head and searches his fingers for blood.

Harry: (firm now) Now what's going on?

Billy: He booted me up the arse.

Harry turns to Tim.

Harry: Did you boot him up the arse?

Tim: Aye! (To Billy) What ye goin to do? Sue me?

Billy: Aye – for half your f#%kin Giro!

Tim: I’ll half my f#%kin giro ye!

Harry: (To Billy) What did you boot him up the arse for?

Billy: No – he booted me up the arse.

Harry: (To Tim) What did you boot him up the arse for?

Tim: Comes in dressed like the union jack - calls me a Fenian bastard and I’m supposed to take it?

Billy: I’m no sharin a cell wi him.

Tim: F#%kin ditto Bluto.

Billy: I’ll f#%kin Bluto ye!

Billy and Tim ad lib insults until:

Harry: (shouts) Right! (Billy and Tim stop. Harry points to the top of the cell) See that. (They both swing and are shocked to see a camera) Everything you do is recorded. I could get the cops right now and have you both done with assault. Then you’d be here all weekend. Back up in front of Macalraith first thing on Monday morning. Christ knows how he’ll take that! (Billy and Tim stare at each other) Is that what you want? Cos I can arrange it. (to Tim) Well? Talk to me son!

Tim: No.

Harry: And you?

Billy shakes his jingle bells no.

Harry: Good. I’ve got work to do. There’s more to life than all this pish.

Harry: Make ma day (Harry tugs at both their football tops. Lets them go with a sharp snap and leaves).

Billy: F#%kin nightmare.

_Tim guards the bench as both men strut their macho stuff about the cell. _

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