(Will) To the untrained eye, it may look like just another day at school.
But actually, it was a very special week.
Or in Neil's case, a very special needs week.
Bollocks! No way is that right!
You all right, Neil? What are you playing?
Oh, behave. That's well too hard.
- Brain Training? - Stupid thing.
Why is that wrong?
- What does it say your brain age is? - I got it up to 12 a minute ago.
12? 12 years old?
- Have you caught Down's syndrome? - Has it asked if Santa is real yet?
Don't listen to them, Neil. He does exist.
Yeah, and he's just sorted our Saturday night out with the gift of gash.
Sexy soiree? That sounds sexy.
Fucking hell, is that Louise Graham? She doesn't normally look like that.
Oh, she'd definitely get it. Right in the bum hole.
Lucky girl.
This is amazing! We've actually been invited to a cool party.
Yeah... kind of.
I nicked it out of Sadie Cunningham's bag during registration. We should try and go.
Another cool party we're specifically not invited to. Good job, Jay.
Um... isn't there something else on Saturday night, anyway?
Don't think so.
It's my birthday.
I'm having a dinner party.
- I sent you the invites a month ago. - Is that really happening?
I thought it was a joke.
It's a joke that we've got to go to a dinner party rather than a sex party.
Two things. One, it won't be a sex party - it's Louise Graham we're talking about.
And two, even if it is, you were invited to my party first.
Just cancel yours, Will. You can have your birthday any weekend.
Thanks, Neil. Simon, you don't want to go to Louise Graham's,
- do you? - Me? No. God, no. No.
Not unless you're going to cancel yours.
I'm not.
Sure. Sure. Oh, except my French exchange bloke's arriving today.
- I'm meant to look after him all week. - Bring him along.
It'll be nice to have some sophistication at the party.
I'm not sure he's that sophisticated. Some friend of my mum's asked if we'd have him.
- He might be a massive twat. - So, what? The French version of you?
Don't forget you've got to bring a girl. I'd like this to be a proper dinner party.
- Can I ask your mum? - No!
So after school, we went to say bonjour to Patrice.
What's France like, then, Patrice?
Cool. And are the French birds dirty?
Quoi?
He doesn't get any. Look, he's all greasy. Birds don't go for that, French or not.
[IN FRENCH]
Pardon?
- Yeah. I think you'll be OK round here. - What did he say?
Do you not speak any French?
No. That's why my mum was keen for him to come over - try and teach me a bit.
- I've picked up "clope" so far. - What's that?
- Cigarette. He smokes like a chimney. - Simon, you have porn?
Oh, for fuck's sake! I keep saying - no, I don't.
- Internet? - No.
- You can't get any porn on the internet? - That's not the internet, Si.
Are you trying to find porn on your washing machine?
My mum and dad have got a filter on it. I can't see any.
Oh, that is fucking tragic! What are you, 11?
All right, mate.
- See you later, Patrice. - He seems a bit weird.
He asked if I'd tried the "sleeping beauty".
- Oh, it's good, that. - You know it?
Yeah. You sit on your arm till your hand goes dead - ten, 15 minutes, usually.
Then, when you wank, it feels like someone else is doing it.
How do you know these things?
Everyone knows the "sleeping beauty". That's old.
- Is it? - Yeah, my mate's brother invented it.
He and his mates used to be called the Dead Hand Gang.
They had a gang based on masturbation?
Oh, there's nothing gay about that(!)
Yeah, well, he's in the Air Force now, so how gay is that?
Still quite gay.
So my dinner party guest list was shaping up nicely -
four idiots and a racist Frenchman.
It's gonna be tricky to get girls to come to your dinner party.
Because you forgot and it's short notice?
No, cos Louise Graham's quite popular. Most people will be at hers.
Please say you'll at least try and bring girls.
This birthday can't be as depressing as last year's.
- Why, because you got that briefcase? - No, Neil.
- Because my father left my mother. - Maybe I'll see what Carli's up to.
Not being seen dead with you in a million years is what she's up to!
Oh, I'm sorry, Russell Brand(!) Who are you bringing again?
Don't worry about me. I'm up to my neck in sluts at the moment.
Maybe I'll bring my new fuck buddy - that little blonde barmaid
- from the Fox and Hounds. - You've pulled a barmaid? Nice.
Has she got special dietary requirements?
I've never cooked for an imaginary woman before.
I know she's not allergic to nuts.
- My nuts. - Brilliant.
- Or my cock. - She only eats small portions, then.
I didn't hear your mum complaining, although her mouth was full at the time.
- Good one(!) - Can you just drop us off here, Si?
- Don't you want a lift to school? - This is close enough.
Don't wanna be seen getting out of this shit heap.
- No offence, mate. - See you later.
- Actually, I might get out, too. - Fine! See you at school.
- Do you want to get in the front? - No.
Great.
They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
But I was hoping it would also be a way into my female guests' knickers.
What about chicken casserole?
Why are you even asking? If it was up to me, we'd have Big Macs.
Did you not see Super Size Me?
Yeah. It just made me really want a Big Mac.
- Oh, shit! Charlotte's online. - Have you asked her along yet?
- No. I don't know if I should. - Go on, it'll be great.
- Message her now. - Do you think so?
- Yes, it'll be cool. Just say hi. - All right...Done it.
Oh, wow, she's come straight back.
She says, "Hi, whassup?" Smiley face. Urgh.
- Ask her out. - No, I can't just jump in,
not the way things have been with us. Have to charm her a bit first.
I've written, "Just hanging out with Si and his French exchange."
She thinks you're handsome?!
Oh, no. She means Patrice.
Thank God! I'm a div.
Hmm, another smiley face.
Can't bring myself to send a smiley back.
- I could write "LOL" if I had to. - Do that.
- It's going well, mate. Ask her out. - It is going well, isn't it?
Definitely.
"It's my birthday. Come for dinner?"
That pause isn't good.
Calm down, it's only been a second.
She was straight back every time before.
Holy shit!
She's gone offline rather than answer whether or not she'll come to my birthday.
- Maybe the connection's dropped. - No, it was back and forward.
Then a question about dinner and she's gone.
Oh, brilliant, perfect. Thanks a bunch(!)
- Look, she didn't say no, did she? - No. But she did hang up.
So I'm sure she'll be there.
Well, not sure, but... you know.
Oh, hello, Simon. Oh.
Bonjour.
Oh, goodness, you're French. [SHE GIGGLES]
This is Patrice. He's my sort of French exchange,
Patrice, this is Will's mum.
Hello.
Well, um, I'm just off to play tennis. Um... don't know why I mentioned that.
Bye, then.
Au revoir, Patrice.
Au revoir.
- Your mother is very sex. - Sorry?
She has the sex.
He's a strange one, isn't he?
Yeah, but he's French. They're all weird, aren't they?
- Oh, God, please don't be racist. - That's not racist.
I'm just saying he barely says anything
and when he does speak, it's always about sex...
just like all French people.
The next day was my birthday and Mum was serving me up
her speciality - scrambled eggs and disappointment.
- Happy birthday, petal. - Thanks, Mum.
Here's your present.
It's nothing big. I'm saving up for something special next year,
- when you can drive. - Next year? I can drive this year.
- I thought you had to be 18 to drive. - No, it's 17.
Oh, right.
Sorry, your father used to deal with things like that.
Oh, thanks, Mum. Calvin Klein. It's...
- It's a tight vest top. - Don't you like the colour?
Is this the only present you've got me?
What's wrong with it?
When have you ever seen me wear something like that?
You'll look cool. All the boy bands wear them.
I'm not in a boy band.
Fine. Fine. I've got a receipt. You can exchange it.
I'm sorry. I've ruined your big day.
I got it wrong about the driving and now about this.
No, sorry, Mum. I suppose it's not too bad.
- You don't want me to exchange it? - No. I will wear it.
Tonight?
Oh...
Um... not tonight.
You hate it. I'll change it.
No, fine.
I'll definitely wear it tonight.
Patrice spends an awfully long time in the shower, doesn't he?
Yeah, about him. As it's Will's birthday tonight, could you look after Patrice?
No. You're meant to be learning from him, Simon. Anyway, we're going out.
- Can't you take him with you? - It's a special night out for us.
We don't really need a 17-year-old French boy tagging along.
Things aren't that bad in the bedroom yet!
- Jesus Christ! - Besides,
he'll have more fun with you and the boys.
He doesn't. He just sits around rolling cigarettes and shrugging.
Must be useful having a handsome Frenchman in tow for meeting ladies.
He's not handsome.
Patrice is handsome.
Aye-aye! I'd better watch it!
Looks like your mother is lining up a toy boy!
Oh, God!
Chance would be a fine thing.
- Oh, not you, too. - Remember, gorgeous,
what I lack in energy I more than make up for in experience.
[THEY LAUGH] Oh, God, you two are disgusting!
Oh, come on, Simon! You used to look at much worse on the internet.
[WOMAN MOANS] Elsewhere on the internet,
the Dead Hand Gang was enrolling its latest recruit.
(Woman) You gonna fuck me now?
(Mother) Jay! Neil's here for you.
What? He's early. Don't come in, I'm getting changed.
[MOANING FROM COMPUTER]
- Are you OK? - It's just a film.
It's just a normal film. I'm getting changed. Get out!
[MOANING CONTINUES]
What film's that, then?
Oh, right.
So whilst I was making my final preparations,
including putting on shit music girls would like, Patrice had been busy too.
I just had a really nice, er... tug,
thinking about your mother, and I think some went on the floor. Sorry.
Great, thanks, Patrice.
[DOORBELL BING-BONGS]
I'll get it. It could be Charlotte.
- It's not going to be Charlotte. - Cheer up, it might be.
She's got all the details, you said so yourself.
All right, gays?
Oh, happy birthday to me(l)
It was 8.30pm on my 17th birthday, and my party was in full swing.
Where's your plus one, then, Jay?
Not coming. She got a modelling job, had to fly to Paris.
Barmaid by day, supermodel by night. Sounds likely(!)
Where's Little Miss Stuck-up Cock-tease?
- Do you mean Carli? - Yep.
Oh, yeah, I don't think Carli will make it.
Why not? Is something up?
No, nothing like that. I just... sort of didn't invite her in the end.
You really are a bollockless little twat, aren't you?
So there are going to be no women here, then?
None at all? I don't know why I bother.
Well, I wouldn't say there'll be no women...
Yeah, not no women!
- So there are some women coming? - Maybe, maybe not.
Look, it's very clear from your smirking faces and tone of voice that, actually,
- there are some women coming. - We got you a special birthday treat.
- Did you? - A stripper!
What?
- Have you really booked a stripper? - Yeah!
- She was only 150 quid! - How did you pay for that?
We'll have a whip-round when she gets here.
A whip-round? Round who? The five of us?
We don't have 30 quid each!
No. If we all just put in... Wait...
Oh, shit, yeah.
Brilliant(!) So just to confirm,
until an angry stripper turns up, we are without any female company?
Thanks, guys, this is a great birthday(!)
If you're gonna cry about it, I'll get some local snatch in.
What about them birds we passed outside?
Yeah, they were all right.
Yes, please, drag some random girls off the street for me(!)
Or we could go to Louise Graham's party.
Yeah, why aren't we there? It's got to be better than this shithole.
Thanks very much(!) More wine?
Ah, I bet it is crawling with clunge.
And I bet it's not!
And you'd know?
I put a lot of effort into this. I made a really nice coq au vin...
- Cock of what?! - You don't help yourself, do you?
Oh, yes, I see - "coq au vin", very mature.
It actually means chicken in wine, doesn't it, Patrice?
Quoi?
Well, it does. And it doesn't mean cock up my arse,
or cock on my head, or...
You got some cock in the back of a van.
Or that I got a cock in the back of a van.
Look, all I wanted was a civilised and sophisticated birthday.
Just something a bit different from the usual parties.
Maybe even the sort of party that girls are impressed by.
OK, so there aren't any girls here,
but why don't we at least attempt to have a sophisticated conversation?
I know it's a tall order, and I'm not expecting sparkling,
but let's give it a go, eh, as it is my fucking birthday?!
How much Lego can you stuff up your bum?
- Oh, for Christ's sake! - Not now,
just when you was younger - how much?
You are grim, mate.
Why were you sticking Lego up your bum?
Not a lot, just like... a rectangular one and a long one. Couple of singles, maybe.
Fine, fine, let's see if those girls outside want to come join us, then.
Yes!
Are you sure, mate? I thought you wanted this to be special.
Why fight it? Charlotte's not coming, is she?
And a skilful raconteur like Neil is wasted on just us.
Nice one. Now I get a proper three-course meal...
blowie, shag and anal.
So we headed into the night,
and found Jay's three courses sitting on a fence.
'Allo, 'allo. Here they are. Nice.
- They look a bit rough. - Are they drinking in the street?
Dirty.
Not quite the sophisticates I had in mind, but at least they're female.
- You going over, then, Jay? - Nah, Si should.
What? Why me?
- Alphabetical. - You've got that bent look girls go for.
Fine, if you're going to be rude, you go, then.
Oh, sorry for being "rude"(!)
Just go, Si. It's freezing out here.
Come on, Si. For me, yeah? For my birthday?
God! All right, then.
- Hi, there. - What did you fucking say?
Um... hello.
And what?
Um, I wanted to ask you to a party.
I'm 13.
Oh, right.
And she's 11, you nonce.
- Yeah, there's been a mistake, so... - Like looking at little girls, do ya?
Like getting them to go to parties where you can touch them, do ya?
- No, God, no. Look, I'm going now. - Paedo!
- You fucking paedo! - Yeah, run, you paedo.
- Fucking hell, don't do that, Patrice! - Urgh! Paedo!
I'm gonna get my fucking brother on you!
- That's it, run away, paedo boy. - Keep going, paedo!
Keep walking, you fucking paedo!
- Nice one, Si. - Me? It was Patrice who wound them up.
Yeah, but you tried to nonce them up.
- I'm not in the mood for this, Jay. - Ooh, watch out!
Uncle Simon might try and give me a special cuddle.
- Oh, fuck! - What's for pudding, Will?
A middle-aged woman demanding 150 quid.
- Oh, shit. What are we going to do? - I think we should go to L...
Yes, fine, I give up. Let's try to get in to Louise Graham's.
- But what about your dinner party? - Forget it.
You can lead a horse to water but you can't stop it sticking Lego up its bum.
For Christ's sake, Patrice, don't do that!
God, Si, he's a nightmare!
We can't have him scaring all the muff away at the party. Let's ditch him.
I'm looking after him, I can't leave him stranded in a strange country.
He comes from a strange country.
Si, for once, Jay's right.
Patrice is weird and boring. Do you really think girls will be impressed with that?
- Probably not. - Let's leg it while his back is turned.
- It's now or never, Si. - OK, fuck it, come on, then.
So we ran away. Yep, ran away - something I hadn't done
since John Cook discovered wedgies in Year 8.
- I've got a stitch. - Right, that should be enough.
- He's behind us! - No way!
Run!
He's chasing us!
Fucking hell! He doesn't give up easily, does he?
- What does he think is happening?! - I think he's caught us up.
- Yeah, good spot, Neil. - Simon, why we run?
Um, yeah, dunno.
- You don't know? - Yeah.
- So... so we stop? - Yeah, probably. Good idea.
Shall we go to that party, then?
So after trying and failing to outrun a boy in Cuban heels,
we headed for Louise Graham's party, which we definitely wouldn't get into.
Who's gonna ask if we can come in? Will?
I don't even know her!
I stuck chewing gum in her hair in Year 8.
Great. Anyone else fucked her off?
Out of the way, you Kwik Shit Shitters. I'll sort this.
[DOORBELL RINGS]
[DOOR OPENS]
Yeah?
Hello, Louise. We haven't been introduced. I'm Will.
You can't come in, there's too many already.
Look, we'll be no trouble, I promise. I mean, look at us.
One of you can come in.
One, five, there's hardly any difference. Perhaps we can negotiate.
Him.
- He can come in. - Oh, right.
Well, Simon will have to come in, too, cos he's supposed to be looking after...
Great.
So we can add Patrice to the growing list of people more popular than us.
Fucking John's in there! And he's with a girl!
- He's got his hand on her tit! - This is too tragic.
And Charlotte Big Jugs is in there.
- Where? - Right. Looks like it's time for Plan B.
Oh, right, there's a Plan B, is there?
Plan A was so brilliantly devised, I wouldn't have thought we'd need a Plan B!
What is it? Climb over her fence?
It's a bit higher than I imagined.
Don't shit yourself. It's only a fence, it won't bite.
Yes, Jay, except I'm not worried about it biting me,
I'm worried about breaking my neck.
Come on, it'll be a laugh, climbing and that.
Will it? There must be another way.
Ah, it's full of clunge. Give us a push, Neil.
I'm just not made for climbing.
Maybe one of these panels is loose.
There's a gap here!
Come on, Will. Hurry up!
Oh, please, no!
- Why's he always gotta be different? - Just fucking hurry up!
- Twat! Everyone's looking. - What's going on?
Oh, hi, Louise. As I was saying earlier, it's important that we look after Patrice.
Have you just crawled through my dog's shit?
Yes, Louise, I have. But ask yourself why.
The fact that you've excluded us from this party
because of some vague rules about popularity is ridiculous.
And although it looks like we've climbed a fence and crawled through dog shit,
what we've done is challenged your social apartheid.
You weren't invited cos I don't know you that well.
That makes sense too, I suppose.
God, if you're that desperate to come in, you can stay.
But take that jacket off before you go inside.
- Sweet! Nice one! - She's right about the jacket, though.
It stinks.
Oh, mate, that is rank. It's all up your sleeve, look.
Oh, Christ!
- What the fuck is that? - Oh, my God!
It was a present from my mum, all right?
And you've worn it?
She been getting gift ideas from Neil's old man?
- Oi, my dad's not bent. - That is not a good look for you.
Well, we've just gatecrashed a party that Big John was invited to,
so none of us are winning the cool prize.
But you are losing by a mile.
Yeah, but not for long. I'm going to find Charlotte.
- Upstairs getting fucked, most likely. - I've told you she's not like that!
I'll check upstairs first, though.
The best thing about your birthday is that everyone has to do exactly what you want.
With this thought and a slightly dirtier one in mind, I went to find Charlotte.
Nice T-shirt(!)
- Yeah, good look, briefcase. - Someone's stolen your sleeves.
- Yep, nice one. - Where's the rest of Take That?
Retro, but a good one.
Come on! Let me go first, you know I'm desperate.
Unlucky.
Don't be a cock!
No, don't. Seriously, come on, I'm bursting!
Look, come on!
Oh, hi, Jay, are you queuing?
Yeah! I might piss my pants any minute.
Oh.
Won't be too long - been in there a while.
Oh, right.
So... didn't know you lot were friends with Louise.
Oh, no, we're not. We climbed over the fence. It's cool.
Right.
- Carli, hi. - Hi, Simon.
- How are you? - Good, yeah. OK.
Pretty awesome.
Jesus Christ, Simon, what the fuck have you done in there?
What?
Have you been eating cat food again?
Oh, God, you've left skids down the bowl, too.
Carli, I didn't. I only went in for a piss.
Oh, God, I can taste it.
- Jay! - I might go upstairs.
No, don't. It was a wee.
It was only a wee!
I promise I didn't leave skids!
It doesn't smell at all, you fucker! It was a wee. Why did you do that?
Funny.
OK, things weren't going exactly to plan. But if I could just find Charlotte,
I was confident it would still be a birthday to remember.
And I was right.
Hi, Charlotte, there you are.
Will! Um... could you go away?
Time out, fella!
You're not alone now.
Oh, Patrice... Salut.
Salut.
- Um, are you two? - Seriously, what are you doing?
I thought maybe we could hang out a bit.
Not right now, maybe.
Will, I don't know why you're doing this. And what are you wearing?
I've got a bottle of champagne at home,
and I remembered when we first met we had champagne, and as it's my birthday,
I thought maybe... Is he touching you now?
Look, maybe we'll have a drink later.
Yeah, later, course.
Oh, Will?
Could you turn the light off?
No, leave on.
OK.
Great. And I'd rather hoped the singlet would be the worst birthday surprise.
Meanwhile, my mates were making the most of finally getting in to a cool party
by standing in a corridor, not talking to anyone.
All right? Did you find Charlotte?
- Um, yeah. Yeah, I did. - Where is she, then?
She's upstairs being fucked by Patrice.
- Knew it. - Ooh, unlucky!
Can you make him stop, please, Simon?
As a birthday present?
Um... not really. Sorry, that's just too weird.
Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Shall we go, then?
Oh, hi, Mark. I'm just off,
but if you're looking for Charlotte, I think she's upstairs.
- Fuck off, you prick. - Have a fun night!
So, ironically, it was Donovan who gave me the best gift this year -
a savagely beaten French kid.
What if Donovan kills him?
Good.
Mum'll go mental if Patrice is hurt.
What's she gonna do, get you a shitter car?
- Fair point. - Fuck him.
- You never see him again, so what? - I'm meant to stay at his at half term.
- Do you want to go to France? - Not really.
Well, shut up, then.
What about me? It's my birthday and I saw Patrice trying to mount Charlotte,
the fucking baguette-eating dickhead frog.
- That's a bit racist. - He's made me racist.
- Did you get to see her boobies? - No, Neil.
Through my tear-filled eyes, I couldn't see any tits.
Bad luck.
Oh, God, what if my birthdays just get worse and worse from now on?
- What'll happen next year? - You get AIDS?
- I'd have to have sex for that. - Or fuck a monkey.
Technically, that still counts as sex.
Or drink from the same cup as Neil's dad.
Oi, my dad does not have AIDS!
Your dad is so AIDS. He's the one who gave it to the monkeys.
- Take that back. - That's what the monkeys said to him.
Come on, mate, let's go back to yours. I'll let you beat me at Pro Evo.
I can beat you anyway.
Well, we'll see, won't we?
That's them. Fucking paedos!
- Run! - Again? Oh, good(!)
- Paedos! - Split up, he can't get us all!
He's got a fucking cricket bat!
Neil, go away!
This is the tin hat. Worst birthday ever!
So my birthday - or dog shit, singlet, heartbreak day, as I think of it -
was over.
It's fair to say it hadn't been the best. But I had learnt an important life lesson.
If you go round to Neil's, don't play with his Lego.
# Can't set fire to anything
# But what's the point in being scared?
# If we can't set fire, you can't set fire
# To me. #