Walk Like a Panther (2018) Movie Script

1
(DRUMROLL)
(FANFARE PLAYS)
(MUSIC ENDS)
BIG DADDY:
We shall not be moved!
Easy! Easy! Easy!
Well, I'm on my way
to Heaven
We shall not be moved
On my way to Heaven
We shall not be moved
Just like a tree
That's standing
by the water side...
MARK (NARRATING): Professional
wrestling has existed
in the United Kingdom
for over 100 years.
In 1965, ITV's new show,
World of Sport,
brought wrestling
to the masses.
It became one of the most
popular shows on TV ever.
Sometimes bringing in
more viewers than the footie.
At 4:00
on a Saturday afternoon,
every class of household would come
together to witness the glory.
MAN: Come on, Ethel.
It's about to start.
We shall not be moved...
Come and get your own bloody biscuits then.
You pillock.
Just like a tree that's
standing by the water side...
Ehh!
Don't you dare.
Good boy.
Oi!
...standing by the water
side, we will not...
MARK (NARRATING):
Family, biscuits and a brew.
What more could you want?
- THE QUEEN: Thank you.
- PRINCE PHILIP: Thanks.
(FANFARE PLAYING ON TV)
- (GRUNTING)
- MARK (NARRATING): That's me, Mark Bolton,
in a grudge match
with my archenemy, Ted.
I was born to wrestle.
It's literally in me blood.
My dad, Trevor "Bulldog"
Bolton, led The Panthers,
a magnificent band
- of wrestling heroes...
- Yes!
and one terrifying villain.
- (GASPS)
- And the biggest hero of them all,
my best friend,
Ginger Frost.
Coming for you, Lesley Beck!
(DISTORTED SCREAM)
- (BONES CRUNCH)
- (MARK YELLS)
I'm Mark Bolton!
"Son of Bulldog."
Come on, Dad! Come on!
(CROWD CHEERING)
(YELLING TRIUMPHANTLY)
MARK (NARRATING):
When he wasn't in the ring,
you could find Ginger behind
the bar of The Half Nelson,
the pub that he ran,
- and also the center of our universe.
- (CHEERING)
TREVOR: ...down on me mush.
(GROANS)
So, crowd's
absolutely dead.
- Terrible, weren't it?
- TREVOR: They think the title's gone.
- but little did they know, while he's showboating...
- Dad. Dad.
- Dad!
- Anyway, throws us off...
MARK:
Dad, let's wrestle, please.
TREVOR:
Not now, all right?
- Anyway...
- Come on!
Hey, hey.
Come on, Mark. Hey, hey.
(GINGER AND MARK GRUNTING)
- Dad, I've got Ginger!
- GINGER: Oh, my God! He's got me!
- Mum!
- Go on, Mark!
- (CHATTERING)
- GINGER: Submit!
- Mark's got me, Bulldog! (SHOUTS)
- Dad! Dad!
(MARK GROWLS)
MARK (NARRATING): But following a
scare from Ginger's dodgy ticker,
I took the reins,
and became the proud landlord
of The Half Nelson.
In 1988, World Of Sport
was canceled.
A nation's Saturday afternoon
was changed forever,
and my dream of wrestling
in the ring was shattered.
- Thanks, Mark.
- Bye, love.
You've got to fly...
Oh, don't forget, Marge,
there's a quiz on Tuesday.
Prowl like a lion in Africa
British wrestling took place in a world
where only the strongest survived.
And to survive...
Ah, fu...
...you had to walk
like a panther.
Walk like a panther tonight
Walk like
a panther tonight
MARK:
Ginger!
- Hey, lad.
- All right, Ginge.
- Here, let me give you a hand.
- Hey!
(GINGER GROWLS)
- Hey, hey.
- He's still got it.
- Lovely this morning, weren't it?
- Aye, it were.
You coming to The Nelson
tonight for the quiz?
Tell you what, lad. That pub
is the last place round here
to give any of us
a sense of belonging.
Rest went to the dogs
a long time ago.
(MARK GROWLS PLAYFULLY)
GINGER: Just as well
you took it over, lad.
Well, mi casa
su casa, Ginge.
- Come again?
- It means...
"My house, your house."
Everyone's house.
It's not an house,
son, it's an home.
- See you later.
- Yeah.
- Oh, Ginger, question eight.
- (THUNDER CRASHES)
Who was the best wrestler
never to be seen on the telly?
- Who?
- Me.
(GINGER GASPS)
MARK:
Ginger! Ginger!
Ginger? Ginger? Ginger?
Someone phone an ambulance!
- (BOYS LAUGHING)
- (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)
PERCY: Watch out, big
lads coming through.
(MEN CHUCKLING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
DEREK: Looking good,
Zulu, looking good.
- Is that two Frazzles?
- BOY: Yes, please.
TREVOR (ON P.A.): Ladies and
gentlemen, your attention, please.
I just wanna say a few words
in honor of Ginger.
Thank you, love.
My friend Ginger.
Our friend Ginger.
(MUTTERS OF AGREEMENT)
At 4:00
on a Saturday afternoon...
the whole bloody country's
friend, Ginger.
(LAUGHTER)
Nothing meant more to Ginger than
being on the road with the Panthers.
Taking in town halls
up and down the country
with his wrestling family,
"Gladiator" Glenn Higgins,
Tony "Sweet Cheeks" Smith,
Lara "Liplock" Anderson...
Cliff "Edge" Morris,
Zulu Dawn...
the Dixon Brothers,
Danny and Derek.
All family.
(MUTTERS OF AGREEMENT)
People like this place.
This place likes people.
The Half Nelson is the beating
heart of this community.
A community
that welcomes all,
no exception.
I mean, you took us in.
Geordie lad,
a Northern lass
who couldn't quite settle
by the Mersey.
We brought a little bit of it
up here, didn't we? Eh, son?
(CHUCKLING)
Mark keeping this place running
meant a lot to Ginger.
And I know what Ginger
meant to my son.
He gave him everything
a father should give.
Everything a father's
obliged to give.
He gave everything I didn't.
For that, I'm sorry, Mark.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Ginger Frost.
- Ginger Frost!
- Ginger Frost!
MARK: That was... That
was lovely that, Dad.
Yeah. He would have been
really proud of you.
- You okay?
- Yeah.
He'll be up there now, Pat,
- wrestling with the angels.
- (PAT CHUCKLES)
PAT: Oh, look at him. Who the
bloody hell does he think he is?
- GLADYS: Come on.
- Coming.
Gladys. Pat.
I hope you ladies have left your
purple-rinsed grudges at home,
on this most tragic of days.
PAT: Oh, you should be ashamed
of yourself, Popsy Wilson.
This is all your fault!
POPSY:
Course it is.
- He died of a heart attack.
- It wasn't attacked. It was broken.
He was one of the strongest men
who ever set foot in the ring.
- Evidently not.
- PAT: He was a hero.
And wrestling
will never be the same!
Wrestling? What wrestling?
When will you two
change the 8-track?
British wrestling is as dead
as Ginger Frost.
Oh, aye, it's dead...
because you helped to kill it.
Do you think your dad
would be proud, eh,
seeing what you did to everything
that he'd worked so hard to build up?
He supported wrestling.
He supported us,
and you turned your back on it.
You turned your back on us.
And what for, eh?
For a pound note.
And brought in that
mamby-pamby American crap.
The fake stuff.
- And I bid you adieu.
- GLADYS: Adieu.
CLIFF: Why don't you just
say goodbye, Wilson?
Or do you want me
to say goodbye for you?
That won't
be necessary, Cliff.
Still playing
at being a bodyguard?
Oh, how is Tina Turner?
Shaneequa...
is the finest lookalike
in the business.
As her poster says,
she is simply the best.
If Stars in Their Eyes was
still on TV, she'd piss it.
Now you can mock me, Wilson, but
don't you dare mock that lady.
And do not mock the art
of close protection.
Do you know how many people
would be dead without it?
No.
Loads, that's who.
Reagan, Ronald, President.
Charles, prince,
future king of England.
De Courcey, Roger,
puppeteer.
Roger De Courcey?
Who tried to kill him?
Bingley Working Men's Club,
Christmas '98.
Mousetrap in Nookie's shaft.
Someone with steady hands,
'cause it were well-balanced.
POPSY:
My dear Mr. Morris,
we all know you're harder
than a copper's knock.
- Ghali, Boutros Boutros...
- TREVOR: Leave it, Cliff.
I'm like a shadow,
you can't see me.
Out of me way,
you smelly biddies.
(PEOPLE GROANING)
H:
What you looking at? Move.
RICKY: Change, bar wench.
Fifties, now.
Are you deaf?
- He said "50s."
- 'Nuff fifties.
Why don't you go home,
eh, Rickson...
before your tag
starts beeping?
Who's talking to you,
knobhead?
Anyway, it's well taken off.
Proper good behavior.
- Rickson, get out of here before I...
- Before you what?
- Wet me up with your senior railcard?
- (BRONSON AND H SNICKERING)
Ah, I didn't
think so, duck.
Look at you all.
You bunch of sad,
washed up divs.
Crying about
that ginger tosser.
- Hey, you!
- Dad!
CLIFF: Oh, where do you
think you're going?
Hey!
Back off, old man!
(CROWD CHEERS)
Go on, Bulldog! Go on!
(RICKY SCREAMS)
TREVOR:
I've had enough of you, Rickson.
That's it, Bulldog,
that's it. Hey, boy!
- Get off!
- Dad!
Get off!
(GRUNTS)
- Oh!
- Go on, Bulldog. Just like the old days, right!
- Too old. Way too old.
- You never encouraged me.
Dad, tag me, tag me.
- TREVOR: Cliff, you're on.
- MARGARET: Don't forget our Mark.
MARK:
Go on, Cliff!
(CROWD GROANS)
TONY: Sweet Cheeks is up next!
LARA: No, you're not. You'll
probably shit yourself.
What you doing?
(YELLS)
RICKY:
All of you, you fannies...
- (RICKY GROANS)
- (CROWD LAUGHS)
Yeah, yeah, me. Me.
Me, Cliff. My turn.
CROWD (CHANTING):
Zulu, Zulu, Zulu...
RICKY:
Have some of this.
- (CROWD GROANING)
- MAN: That was a mistake, son.
That was a mistake.
(RICKY WHIMPERS)
- (RICKY GROANS)
- (DAWN SIGHS)
(LAUGHING)
Bronson, come on,
let's go.
Shut up, you tosser.
This is gold.
CROWD (CHANTING):
Boston Crab. Boston Crab.
Zulu!
- Boston Crab. Boston Crab.
- (CHUCKLING)
Yes! Yes, me now! Me now!
DANNY: Come on, let's
have a look at you.
MARK:
Tag me now!
Who's been a naughty boy?
(CROWD GROANING)
MAN: Stay down, lad, stay down.
CROWD (CHANTING):
Easy! Easy! Easy! Easy!
(CROWD WHOOPING)
Yes, Glenn. Yes, Glenn.
I think he's had enough now,
Mark, don't you?
TREVOR:
Right, Ricky Rickson.
That's what we in the business
call a public warning.
Now get this numpty
out of our pub.
(CHEERS AND APPLAUSE)
Well done, pal.
There's life
in the old dog yet.
(DANNY AND TREVOR LAUGHING)
Did you notice then they couldn't
even properly take me down, mate?
See my moves, H?
Saw you move to the floor
a couple of times, yeah.
Right, well, they was me escaping moves,
if you haven't actually noticed that.
Got some proper
decent digs in, mate.
Bam, bam, bam, bam!
Where was you, mate?
Where was your back-up?
Well, I...
I proper couldn't get
through the crowd, mate.
Because Gladys and Pat were
holding you back, were they?
Yeah? Is that
what was going on?
No, well, what I was saying was
is you probably couldn't see,
what I was up to
because I'm so swift,
I'm so fast, I'm like...
I'm like lightning.
And I... I took it easy on
them because they're so old,
and because they're grieving, and all
their loss and all that bollocks.
But next time,
mate, you watch.
It's Full Force
Ricky Rickson, mate!
- RICKY (SHOUTS): Jesus!
- You all right?
RICKY: Get off, get off me.
Get off.
- WAYNE: All right?
- (RICKY CRYING)
- RICKY: I'm not crying, am I? I'm not crying.
- WAYNE: You look like you are.
ROCKY: I don't cry. I've
never cried once in me life.
I've never cried. Never do it.
Not even at school.
MARK: You know, I'm not
just some div, Mum.
They knew how much
I wanted that.
And they still didn't tag me.
I could've showed them
I know what I can do.
- I could have been buzzing with them.
- Yeah, you could.
But you're buzzing with me.
- (DOOR OPENS)
- (MARK GROANS)
Bloody hell.
Good boy.
Gloria.
GLORIA: Is he okay? He
must be devastated.
Yeah, he's here
and he's fine.
- Oh, God, he needs me.
- Well, maybe not tonight, love.
In the words of Dina Carroll,
"If only for tonight."
And I won't be
a stranger, Margaret.
Not anymore.
- (GLORIA CLEARS HER THROAT)
- Ah, okay.
Well... if it isn't Chucky
and his mum.
That thing freaks me out.
GLORIA: Don't you ever talk about
our son like that. Tell her, Tony.
Well, this is not
the time or place, ladies.
And, Gloria, we don't
even know if he's mine.
How can you say that?
Look at his princely mane.
It's the absolute spit of yours.
- Cherub yellow with a MacGyver twist.
- LARA: You're right.
He has got beautiful hair, Gloria.
So soft.
Like fresh butter
wrapped in cashmere.
If Aphrodite had a sewing kit,
this would be her thread.
- (HAIR SNAPS)
- Oh, Tony, babe, are you okay?
How could you?
You could bald him.
It's Ginger's wake!
I know, and I'm here,
to guide you through that devastation.
Don't worry.
My shoulders, my everything,
are yours to cry on.
Not so good at taking
hints, are we, Giles?
Not so good at anything,
are we, Anderson?
Apart from failure, oh yeah,
and being a slut.
Uh, failure? A Song For
Europe, 1989 regional finals?
Little song by the name
of "Submit to My Love"?
- Remind you of anything?
- Aye. Nil points.
Hit Man and Her, featured dancer.
Bullseye, special prize model.
Watsons Biscuit,
poster girl.
And my choice of lovers
is definitely a success.
Isn't it?
- I said, "isn't it," Tony?
- GLORIA: He doesn't love you.
You lured him,
and then you trapped him.
You're like
a penis fly trap.
- With your sex tractor beam.
- Meaning?
Meaning that's not an
attraction, it's an affliction.
You've got bigger labs
than NASA.
Gloria, love, I think maybe we should
take the little fella home, no?
Back off, Bolton!
This is between me,
him and our son.
There never was, or ever will be,
anything between you and Tony,
except a restraining order.
And that is not his son.
GLORIA: Well, I'm gonna have him tested.
And then I'll have my proof.
What? Why... Why do you
wanna do that for, then?
GLORIA: Because Tony
Junior deserves a legacy.
He deserves your legacy.
GLENN: Come on, Gloria, love,
let's leave it for tonight.
I was leaving anyway.
That's right, Gloria Giles,
keep on walking.
And whilst you're lying
in your lonely bed tonight,
just remember whose sweet
cheeks I'll be cupping in mine.
- TONY: Put a sock in it, can't you, Lara?
- Tell you what.
If I ever find out that
that is your son,
you will never
enter me again.
Give me someone
with a soupon of talent.
(LAUGHTER AND GROWLING
ON LAPTOP)
Oh, right.
Let's have a look at you.
Oh, come on.
Come on, bring me
the bastard son of Bieber.
(GENTLE MUSIC PLAYING)
Shh, shh.
(KISS)
Oh, I love you.
(STYROFOAM SQUEAKING)
(CAR SQUEAKING)
In close protection
we trust, my brother.
Too slow.
WOMAN (ON TV):
...big, bold and beautiful.
Available in all good
chemists near you.
MAN (ON TV): And now, on
Yorkshire Television,
Clint Eastwood protects
the US President,
against assassin John
Malkovich, In the Line of Fire.
I'm telling you now.
Gloria Giles is going too far.
Parading that freakish
little muppet around,
claiming it was sired
by your aged loins.
I mean, what's she thinking?
When I left you
the last time,
I know how much of a shock
it must have been for you,
but, Jesus, man!
How drunk were you?
- I only...
- I don't wanna hear it!
You were broken, I get it.
You spent a few
desperate days with her,
I get that too.
What I don't get,
is how she thinks a man
in your condition,
could have impregnated her.
She's a bloody mentalist!
She's deluded!
(COUNTRY WESTERN MUSIC PLAYING)
Howdy, partner.
Do you fancy a rub?
No, Tony,
I do not fancy a rub.
You're home now, Ginger.
I promise that I'll keep
The Nelson safe for you.
For all of us.
I'm gonna miss you.
MARGARET: Come on,
love, it's freezing.
(DOOR SLAMS)
You'll wake
the bloody neighbors.
(TREVOR SOBBING)
MARGARET:
Oh, love. Come here.
(TREVOR CRYING)
PAUL:
Big night?
You could say that.
Bet you gave him a proper send off.
He deserved that.
Stuck around long enough.
Tougher inside the ring than
out in the end though, eh?
Is there something
I can help you with, Paul?
Sorry, I...
You know, it's just...
Course you are.
There is something I need to talk
to you about. Bit sensitive.
Meet me over by the tanks in five,
after you've dropped your stuff off.
You might want to freshen
up a bit, as well.
Her ladyship's here.
Unexpected.
Couple of new additions
for the cull.
Winters?
She's here now?
Bloody hell.
Oh, you just missed her, mate.
She said she couldn't stay.
Looking bloody good,
by the way.
Hot bitch brewery owner.
You know, I always wonder
how much of her own booze,
I'd need to ply her with
until she'd let me have a go.
Come up.
There's no way
to dress this up, Trevor.
We're going to close
The Half Nelson.
- You can't be serious?
- I'm sorry, Trevor.
Bollocks. You can't do this.
That place runs itself,
and some. Everybody...
Loves The Half Nelson. I know.
But so do Bowers.
They, and we here at Peverill, see
this as an undeniable opportunity.
An opportunity for what? Couple
of apartments? A coffee shop?
'Cause the bloody world needs
another one of them.
Most likely apartments.
Two really nice ones though.
Or maybe it'll just
be one big house.
But to be honest, I don't think
they'll make a final decision,
- until after it's all gone.
- Gone?
I mean, perhaps they'll keep
the facade for posterity,
but I can't speak for them.
Come on, Trevor.
Half the people in that village
will be dead and gone before long.
The kids can't wait to leave,
and those unlucky enough not to
will probably end up inside.
There's a whole
great big world
that continues to turn
outside your village, Trevor.
I suggest you step on to it.
- Listen, I know he's your son...
- It's not about my son.
It's about everyone. It's
always been about everyone.
You can't do this.
- I won't let you.
- Oh. Trevor.
You know more than anyone,
who I am and what I do.
So you should be well aware that I won't
let someone like you stand in my way.
Someone like me?
There's a whole community
of "someones like me"
who'll stand in your way.
I think you should toddle off
back to your little office,
and have a good think.
I don't need to think
about anything.
Oh yes, you do.
You need
to think about how
you're going to tell your son
that his pub's closing.
- (LAUGHTER, SCREAMS ON LAPTOP)
- Boring.
(CROWD GROANING,
YELLING ON LAPTOP)
Surely not.
What you doing? What you doing?
What you doing?
(CROWD CHEERING, GROANING)
TREVOR: That's what we in the
business call a public warning.
Bam, bam, bam, and where was you, mate?
Where was your back-up?
But next time, mate, it's Full
Force Ricky Rickson, mate!
TREVOR: Now get this
numpty out of our pub.
Ker-bloody-ching.
(CHUCKLES)
WAYNE: Hey, they'll know not to
smash you around after this.
Oi, bell-end, no one
smashed me around, all right?
- What, so this ain't revenge?
- (AIR HISSING)
It's just a random act
of mischief?
Yeah.
RICKY:
All right, girls?
All right, tough guy.
- RICKY: You've heard then?
- We've seen, not heard.
RICKY:
What you talking about?
GIRLS:
Full Force Ricky Rickson!
(GIRLS LAUGHING, CHOKING)
RICKY: What does
that mean, then?
WAYNE:
No idea.
Bit weird that,
weren't it?
WAYNE:
It was rude.
RICKY:
Please hurry up, Wayne.
I'm desperate for me
morning poo-poo.
- Okay.
- I'm like clockwork.
(AIR HISSING)
(MAN SPEAKS
INDISTINCTLY ON TV)
What are you doing?
You're not welcome in here.
But this is
The Half Nelson.
I thought
everyone was welcome.
Well, you're making
me friends uncomfortable.
Can you leave, please?
I don't think you want me
to leave, Mark.
- I do.
- No. No, you don't.
Yeah, I do. We all do.
- Wha... What do you think you're doing?
- Mark.
Thanks to the TV execs,
your opportunity
was cruelly curtailed.
Yeah, I know that.
And I don't need
reminding of it.
Son of Bulldog.
Do you want
another chance?
Now, Mark...
is your time to shine.
Your long overdue debut
is imminent.
And I wanna
put you in the ring.
And I will stage the most spectacular
comeback for The Panthers.
All of them.
And in Ginger's honor.
- What do you want to drink?
- I'll have me usual.
- What's that?
- Campari and orange.
(TREVOR SIGHS)
They're gonna close
The Nelson.
- They can't.
- Believe you me, I've tried.
Peterson's got approval,
from Winters, from the board.
That greedy bloody snake.
Well, we can't allow this
to happen, Trevor.
Not to our Mark.
Not to Ginger.
And not to any of us.
Come here.
(PANTING)
The finest clothes
That you can find
Dressed in my coat
I'm feeling fine
I wanna shine
I'll shine so hard
I'll stand up high...
TERRY GRAHAM:
Is it your first day?
Is it your first day?
Yeah.
Doesn't make me better than
you if it is your first day.
It don't make you better than
me if it's not your first day.
- It is my first day.
- Mine's as well. Yes, my first day.
Right. Which one
of you is Terry?
- Terry's lad?
- Oh, no, not me.
Right.
According to your dad,
you need toughening up.
Well, he may be
an old mate,
and I might owe him
a favor or two,
but don't you be expecting me
to pull any punches.
I will not be
riding you easily.
- And you?
- Oh, yeah.
I... I booked "The Art of
Close Protection Experience"
on Groupon.
Oh!
- Are those beards real?
- Mine is, yeah.
Thank you.
Do you want
to look unkempt?
Mmm?
Do you actually want
to lose at least 3.5%
of your regular
aerodynamic-nicity?
No.
Do you want... No.
CLIFF: I'll let it
slide for today,
but next time, I wanna see
them either "A," gone,
or two...
in some kind of net.
Right.
Prepare to closely protect.
(SNAPS FINGERS)
PAT:
Oi! What you doing?
WORKMAN:
Taking the clock, love.
It's gotta come down,
I'm afraid.
PAT: What do you mean,
"taking the clock"?
WORKMAN:
Just following orders, love.
Why would they want
to take a clock?
I know. Told the time
and everything.
(PAT CHUCKLES)
Right.
(LOUD TROMBONE BLOWS)
PAT:
What the bloody hell?
- RICKY: Hey up, smelly biddies!
- Knobheads!
- (TROMBONE BLOWS)
- (MOTORCYCLE ENGINE REVS)
Dickhead.
Oh.
- All right, ladies?
- You better have meant
what you said
last night, Popsy Wilson.
And don't you go messing
with Mark's head.
Or any of our Panthers.
GLADYS:
Because if you do,
it'll be the last thing
you ever bloody do.
If I go fast enough,
I'll get the bastard.
DAWN:
Thank you. Ooh.
- There you go, boys.
- BUILDER: Cheers, Dawn.
JOHN: What would we do without
you to start our day, girl?
Aw!
And no day can start
without the dawn.
- BUILDER: You okay, Dawn?
- I come in peace.
You boys just enjoy
your breakfast.
I just need two minutes
of your time, please, Dawn.
Humph!
I'm putting
the band back together.
The band.
Our band.
The wrestlers?
(DAWN CHUCKLES)
- What?
- You're serious?
The way you all threw around
that Rickson gobshite...
It took me back
to yesteryear.
You've still got romance
in you, Popsy Wilson.
And an agenda, I'm sure.
The only thing I've got, Dawn...
are amends to make.
To the Panthers.
And to you.
TERRY KHAN:
Oh, this is so mega, Cliff.
I feel like a right ninja.
I probably feel like more of a
ninja than that other Terry.
CLIFF:
All right, two things.
One, it's pronounced "neenya."
And "B," there's no such
thing as "neenyas."
Yeah, there is. Those people
that wear black bandages.
Yeah, like throwing stars and
smoke bombs, like skills.
We are the throwing stars
in this game.
Sharp, swift, deadly.
Neenyas were created
to spook naughty children.
Like the bogeyman.
They were invented
by people from the East.
Where? Hull?
Focus, boys. We're
protecting the pope tonight.
The pope?
I thought it was...
(TUTTING) Never reveal your subject.
Not even to me.
It's Close Protection Code.
Pope.
And his church is
the biggest church of all.
His church is showbiz.
CHILD 1: You all right, Tony?
Should we cross?
- We don't want to be late.
- POPSY: Morning, children.
We're all right for sweets
and puppies, thanks.
(KIDS LAUGHING)
Have a word, please,
Sweet Cheeks?
Tony?
- Tony!
- What?
- What you doing?
- Well, I'm on crossing.
Kids are crossing themselves.
- They've gone.
- Exactly.
(WHIP CRACKS)
Showbiz.
Drink it in, boys.
- Bruv.
- (GASPS)
Shouldn't we
have knocked?
Knocked?
We are the knock.
At this stage in your training,
I suppose that not knowing
that you're the knock
is... is understandable.
Listen, Cliff, I'm sorry, all right?
I won't forget, all right?
I'm the knock.
We... are the knock.
- Knock knock.
- Yeah.
- POPSY: Who's there?
- (YELPS)
CLIFF:
Stand down, boys.
Terry and Terry.
My prototypes.
I'm teaching them the ways
of the warrior.
Students. Bonsai.
How did you get in here?
You could have just been maimed.
Oh, I've put on many a show
under this great roof.
- Is he all right?
- CLIFF: All right, Terry?
Yeah, he...
he gets like this
when he senses danger.
It's a bit like Flipper.
- All right, lad?
- Panic attack?
Panic? He doesn't know
the meaning of the word.
Right, well,
I'll make this brief.
And submit to my love
On your back, on your
front, on all fours
- Fours, fours
- (PHONE VIBRATING)
What do you want, Wilson?
Yeah, well, I'm shopping,
so make it quick.
Right.
Opportunity?
Major?
Perfect for my career?
Could make me
an even bigger star?
They're desperate for me!
Me and only me?
Right. Right.
Yeah.
(WHISPERS)
My agent.
What is it?
Wrestling?
You mental dickhead.
- What?
- Do you want a bag for five p?
Five p?
Do you know who I am?
(COINS CLINK)
Wilson.
I'll do it.
Hail Scissor.
Welcome to Spartacuts.
Hail Scissor.
He's far
from welcome here, Mum.
POPSY: Before you throw
me to the lions,
- I've got a proposition for you.
- (HARRY WHIMPERS)
I was wondering,
Gladiator Glenn Higgins...
how do you fancy a return
to the Coliseum?
- Are you still here?
- MABEL: I don't care what this man has done.
I didn't raise
a disrespectful child.
You hear
Popsy Wilson Junior out.
And you...
We only allow honesty
under this roof.
(GASPS)
Bleedin' hell!
TONY:
Ride 'em, cowboy.
(TONY GRUNTING)
Sweet Cheeks.
What are you wearing, Tony?
You look ridiculous.
Even Gloria Giles wouldn't
appreciate those.
- Move.
- These trunks are iconic.
They called me
the "Sexy C-3PO."
Don't be such a sap, Tony.
She's back.
Yeah.
- Caw caw!
- (TONY YELPS)
(SQUAWKS)
POPSY:
Derek. Danny.
DANNY:
Wilson.
(WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYING
FROM TRUCK)
POPSY: I will have a
single scoop, please.
- DEREK: Money up front.
- What?
We're closed.
(POPSY GROANS)
I've been talking
with the other Panthers.
- What about?
- Wouldn't you like to know.
- Yeah, we would.
- Yeah, we would.
It's time to dust off the
"Screwball Corkscrew" special.
(BOTH WHOOPING)
- (YELPS)
- (ICE CREAM SPLATS)
What's going on?
Mark, I thought you wanted
to talk to me?
Yeah, I do, Dad.
Yeah, we all do.
You're gonna love this.
What's he doing here?
What you all doing here?
Your friends,
my dear Bulldog...
are here for the storm.
Name's Trevor.
What bleedin' storm?
Powerful, strawberry blond
clouds are gathering.
Their fiery red bellies
brimming with auburn thunder.
Welcome...
to the Ginger Storm!
Trevor, in memoriam
of your fallen friend...
you shall all be
warriors once more.
Your dormant
wrestling volcano
shall erupt like Etna,
engulfing all
in its molten entertainment!
For this is the future
of yesterday's sport today.
TREVOR:
You're all mad.
- I'll talk to you later, Mark.
- Dad! Wait there.
- Dad, please wait a minute.
- POPSY: Mark! Mark!
POPSY:
It's all right, Mark.
We'll get him on side. You
know, might take a minute, eh?
And the wrestling gods,
they're smiling down on us.
I've managed to secure us a venue
to stage your resurrection.
In three weeks' time,
we return to the
home of grapple.
Melfirth Town Hall.
Melfirth Town Hall?
How did you find
a venue so quickly?
Probably dropped my name,
didn't you, Wilson?
POPSY: Your name opens
many a door, Lara,
but this time luck
was on our side.
The lead singer of the Clannad
tribute band, Clannada-Dry,
was involved
in a forestry accident,
forcing them to cancel
or to... (CHUCKLES)
to "clancel."
(LAUGHTER)
Oh, come on, you lot,
what's wrong with you?
No, their trepidation's completely
understandable, as is your dad's.
And, of course, your boundless
and infectious enthusiasm, Mark.
Speaking of which, I've got
something to show you.
Come on then. Here you are.
In you come. Come on.
Whoa. No, no, no,
wait a minute.
See, I told you this'd happen.
I can't be arsed.
- No, we can't have this.
- Go on, show them.
- You lot are viral.
- Not me, mate, I'm clean as a whistle.
No, you knob. It means, like,
massively popular on the Internet.
People are talking about you
all over the place.
POPSY: Once, they called
you the Panthers.
A band of brawling brothers and
stalking sisters, championed by all.
Well, now, before you've even
set foot back in the ring,
they're championing you again.
Now I know you all think that I screwed
you over, but trust me when I tell you,
I had no control over the
fate of wrestling on TV.
You, out!
God, ignore him, Wayne.
- WAYNE: I've got to go.
- No, you don't.
Look, no beef with you lot.
I've come for the twat.
- Come on.
- It's all right. We've got stuff to do.
(DAWN GROWLS)
- MARK: There's your tea, then.
- Do this for Ginger.
Show him what
he meant to you.
Show the world what wrestling
meant to you.
Remind the world...
what wrestling meant to it.
Mark Bolton...
Son of Bulldog...
(POPSY GROWLS)
- What say you?
- We say yes!
(GASPS)
Then I shall tell the world
that the Ginger Storm
is brewing!
It's time to walk tall.
Stand proud.
Walk like the panthers
that you are!
- Yeah!
- Come on!
- (GIGGLING)
- Yeah. All right.
- I suppose so.
- (SIGHS)
(RHYTHMIC CLANGING)
- Hello, Mark.
- MARK: All right, Paul.
- How are you, mate?
- I'm grand.
Better with a pint
of best in me hand.
Ta.
I always say you pull one of our
finest pints here in The Nelson.
You're doing Ginger proud.
MARK:
Thanks.
(SOFT ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
Delicious.
(CHUCKLES)
(WHISPERS) Twat.
- Shame, really.
- What is?
That this is to be
my final pint in here.
Why, you moving on?
PAUL:
Trevor.
Dad.
Son.
I do hope I haven't
put my foot in it.
Put his foot in what?
Dad, what's
he talking about?
Oh, dear.
You do have a habit
of keeping things
from your son,
don't you, Trevor?
Dad?
PAUL:
I best leave you two...
to...
Night-night.
What is it you're keeping
from me, Dad?
How could you
do this? Hey?
- Look, Mark, please, I'm...
- Why didn't you tell me?
- I tried.
- You know what? I don't wanna know.
I don't wanna know.
Nobody is taking our pub!
And you... you're barred!
You're barred, Dad!
Do you hear me? You're barred!
RICKY: And if you do a little flick
on a "R," like on a capital letter...
- WAYNE: Yeah, too good.
- like a proper graffiti artist, you know what I mean?
WAYNE: What does "R"
stand for, Ricky?
(PAINT CANS HISSING)
TREVOR:
Hey!
Get out of it!
RICKY: This is art, mate.
Proper art.
Never seen art,
you little muppet.
WAYNE:
You wouldn't know art if...
You don't know
art at all.
- None of it.
- TREVOR: What?
RICKY: Hey, Trev, this
one's for you, mate.
"Fucked... up."
- TREVOR: Get out of it, Rickson!
- RICKY: Wa-hey, Mouldilocks.
(SHOUTING)
TREVOR: Get out! I'll
kick your arse, Rickson!
RICKY:
Fanny.
(KICKING DOOR)
(ELECTRICITY BUZZES)
(HEAVY CLANG)
Look at that, Ginger.
See what they've done
to the place.
(BELL RINGING)
(CROWD CHEERING)
Why can't they leave it
where it lies?
GINGER: Because it
doesn't belong there.
That so?
GINGER:
You know it doesn't.
If you live in the past,
you die every day.
GINGER: What a load of bollocks.
You think those nutbags have got
a chance of proving me wrong?
That's exactly
what they've got.
They're gonna need you.
Your son is gonna
need you.
More now
than he ever did.
- If I was still around...
- But you're not still around!
It's just me.
I'm the one
they've turned to.
TREVOR:
Me!
So what's your problem?
I'm bleedin' terrified.
I'm scared for us all.
I'm scared for the pub.
Scared that Mark
will get hurt.
That was always my fear.
And you bloody knew that!
GINGER: You're a fool if you don't
think they're as scared as you are.
But they are gonna grab it by the
scrote and try and save our pub.
They'll do it without you
if they have to, you know.
But they want you,
standing with them.
And I want you
standing with me.
You were
the people's champion.
You're Mark's champion.
You're my champion.
The Panthers can't be
the Panthers without you.
You're wrong, Trevor.
It's the only thing
they know how to be.
Panthers.
And I'm standing here,
right beside you, my friend.
So you pick yourself up,
you dust yourself off,
and you lead them.
And you take Mark
with you.
Bulldog Bolton, standing
side by side with his son.
And you let him know that you
were always watching.
That you always saw him.
That you always loved him.
(DOOR OPENS)
What you doing?
I'm...
I'm just...
How did my hero
turn into you? Eh?
Mark! Son!
It wasn't Popsy.
What wasn't Popsy?
He didn't stop you wrestling
all those years ago.
So who did?
It was me.
I told him not
to put you in the ring.
You weren't ready.
I didn't wanna
see you get hurt.
Well, I am.
And far worse than anyone could
have hurt me in the ring.
(SCOFFS)
DANNY:
No Mark yet?
Thought he'd have been
first one here.
- POPSY: Don't worry, he'll be here.
- (WHISTLE BLOWS)
Right, we're gonna begin your
physical fitness assessment.
Right, Wilson,
line them up!
Line them...
They are lined up.
Surrender yourselves, please,
to Mr. Ziggy Barrow.
Ziggy?
What's Ziggy short for?
What are you short for,
you territorial dancer?
I am not your friend.
Do not try
and be my friend.
I don't like you,
and I don't even know you.
I am not your priest, your
confessor, or your confidante.
Huh?
You look like David Soul
if he'd been a crack addict.
Like a beige lonely sparrow.
You, what are you wearing?
A child's painting?
You, you've still got an imaginary
friend, don't you, huh?
And even he doesn't like you. Cause
look, he gave you that haircut.
You, I don't know what you've
come as, but you are fabulous.
I just love everything about you.
Just a toned thing of beauty.
- A well-oiled machine.
- (DAWN SHIVERS)
You, you giant-sized mutant.
Conceived
in Sellafield, huh?
Only need you if I want
somebody to punch a horse.
And you.
You spell your name
backwards in your head,
so you pretend
you're deep.
Your dog nibble your ears
every night, huh?
And you...
Kendo Nagasaka-shitty.
You look like
a pumped fart.
I was just a wee bit sick
in my mouth there.
That only ever happens
when I look
at fat athletes.
DANNY:
What's he on about?
Whoo! Whoo!
Tony, hi. We're here.
- Oh, for God's sake.
- What can I do?
You, pretty lady features!
GLORIA:
Hey, Haggis!
Don't you talk to my angel like that.
I am watching you.
(MOANS)
Her, I like.
MARK:
Popsy Wilson!
Wilson!
- I know it was you.
- It was me what?
The TV executives
didn't stop me wrestling.
No, it was you.
I'm off the clock.
Jog on.
Look, me dad told me.
He said he told you
not to put me in the ring.
The only place
I've ever wanted to be.
You're a filthy dog, Popsy!
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Come on, son,
calm down.
- Calm down, lad. Calm down. Calm down.
- MARK: No!
I couldn't argue with your dad.
And I'm sorry, Mark.
Were you all in on this?
How could youse?
Well, you're gonna
make it up to me.
- All of you!
- Anything.
- They're planning on closing The Nelson.
- ALL: What?
MARK:
Our pub.
They wanna close our pub.
- No way. They're not doing it.
- No, no.
So we do this,
and every penny goes
to the "Save the Nelson Fund."
- Absolutely, yeah.
- DANNY: Except ice cream sales.
- No, what?
- DEREK: Come on.
Okay, including
ice cream sales. Sorry.
The Ginger Storm, yeah,
has to be the greatest
show of our lives.
It's not about lining
your pockets, Wilson.
- Okay.
- MARK: It's about saving our community.
Because if that pub goes...
we all go.
And then we're left
with nothin'.
Absolutely nothing.
It's not just
about the ticket sales.
We can...
We can sell merchandise.
Like T-shirts, and badges,
and stuff like that.
And every penny can go
towards The Nelson.
- LARA: Great idea.
- Save The Nelson!
GROUP (SHOUTING):
Save The Nelson!
Save The Nelson!
Save The Nelson!
Save The Nelson!
Save The Nelson!
- (CHEERING)
- (WHISTLE BLOWING)
Enough!
Jog...
- for The Nelson.
- MARK: For the Nelson!
That's enough. Come on!
With me! Let's go!
- (GROUP SHOUTING)
- LARA: Go on.
ZIGGY:
God Almighty!
- Good, aren't they?
- Oh, my good God.
I've seen pensioners
run better than this.
POPSY: A few of them are, nearly.
Huh? Eh?
GLORIA: Come on, Tony!
Come on, Tony!
Well done,
well done, well done.
Well done, Dawn.
Oh, good. Come on, come on.
Well done, well done.
- That's his son.
- Piss off.
(LAUGHING)
The only thing that
this lot is gonna be ready for
in three weeks is another portion
of pie and chips and kebab.
(SIGHS)
Blow yourself,
honey bunny.
That's the universe
pissing on you.
Here. Here.
Ah! You...
I meant that.
I meant that!
This is ridiculous.
Can't train in this field.
We're gonna need
some proper digs.
Where am I supposed to magic
that from, Mark?
MARK:
Dawn.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(CHATTERING STOPS)
Gents...
come with me.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
We need to get
those down for starters.
MARGARET: Right, where
do you want it?
- Oh!
- (GASPS) Oh!
(LAUGHING)
TREVOR:
Oi!
How many times
you need telling?
BRONSON: What are you on about, mate?
We're supposed to be doing this.
H: Don't believe us? Ask your mates.
They're all in there.
Ask them, they'll
tell you, you div.
- I'll do you, you little wazzock.
- H: Whatever, granddad.
- No, no, no, no.
- (GEARS GRINDING)
Oi, you Judas Priests.
Oi, you can put that paint
down, you bunch of traitors.
I'm gonna burn this place down, you lot.
Wayne, let's go now.
No, no, no, no, he...
he don't need to go.
- You what?
- She said he don't need to come with you.
They've seen the light, Rickson.
They ride with the Panthers now.
Ride with the Panthers?
- Sounds like a bender band.
- (BRONSON AND H GROAN)
RICKY:
No offense, Dawn.
None taken.
(ALL GROANING)
It's your sequel, mate.
- I need me bike. I need...
- DAWN: Walk.
Try and Houdini your way
out of that one.
- Can I just get me bike? Me bike?
- Walk! Walk!
DANNY: That's the last
Dawn he's gonna see.
DAWN: Listen. I'm gonna let you go now.
All right?
If I have to grips you up again,
I will Boston crab your arse.
- RICKY: All right.
- WAYNE: Bye-bye, Rickson.
- BRONSON: In a bit, mate.
- (LAUGHTER)
- You're all dead, man!
- H: See you, Ricky.
- (WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)
- "D-E"...
(ALL GROAN)
(RICKY MOANING)
Oh, no, no, no.
RICKY:
Help me, please.
You broke us '99.
- RICKY: Fannies.
- You can bloody pay for this, Rickson!
- (THUD)
- (RICKY MOANS)
You tosser.
Look at that.
- DANNY: Bloody hell.
- Don't worry. Come on.
What's this?
You know
what it is.
All right. What's it for?
Indulge me.
You get some sort of kick
out of this, don't you?
Eh.
Margaret and I are buying
The Nelson for Mark.
- Keep it going.
- Well, isn't that just sweet.
Come on, Paul.
Let's get
this thing done.
You can't buy the pub because
you work for the brewery.
It's against protocol,
you know that.
Then I'll resign.
Well, I'll need that
in writing.
My goodness, you are
prepared today, aren't you?
Thank you, Trevor.
So we're buying
The Nelson,
and then me
and you are done.
Yes.
Yes, we are.
But no, you're not buying
The Nelson.
You see, this check
is for 110 grand.
- It's the asking price.
- Yes.
But the Bowers' offer...
is 137,500 English pounds.
Forgive me
for being presumptive,
but I'm leaning
towards the fact
that you haven't got another 30 grand
secreted about your person today?
Yes?
You see, this...
just isn't enough.
Shame.
I told you I wasn't gonna let someone
like you stand in my way, Trevor.
And I really did mean that.
- That all?
- You...
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
- So you got Glenn?
- MARK: Mm-hmm.
- Sweet Cheeks?
- Yep.
- Yeah, Lara's letting him do it.
- (DOOR SLAMS)
- Yeah? (LAUGHS)
- Yep.
- Yeah, she is.
- That's great.
(BOTH LAUGH)
All right, Dad?
What you doing here, Mark?
Trevor.
What, can't I... can't I visit
me mum and dad anymore?
I thought you might
fancy a pint.
Where? I'm barred
from your place.
Yeah, well, as the landlord,
I'm unbarring you.
You know, we've, uh...
we've got a plan to save the
pub, and we need you, Dad.
There's no saving The Nelson.
Peterson's made his mind up.
Right then. Well, listen
to what your son has to say.
I don't need to listen!
I know what the plan is.
They're all completely mad.
You wanted to stop him wrestling
just as much as I did.
Yes, well,
the difference now, Trevor,
is that we'd be more worried about
you getting hurt than Mark.
It's all right, Mum.
I'm not gonna beg him.
I'm not a kid anymore.
And you're not the man
I thought you was.
You stood up at Ginger's wake,
and you told everyone
that he'd given me everything
a father was obliged to give.
Everything you hadn't
given me.
And then you raised a glass to our
dead mate, and you drank to that.
You knew how much
he meant to me.
You know, and now he's gone...
(BREATHES SHAKILY)
and you still can't take
the baton, can you?
Do you know what? Sometimes
I wish Ginger was me dad.
No offense, Mum.
Come on, let's go.
- Where you going?
- For a fucking pint.
(SIGHS)
Jesus.
What do you know
What do you feel
What do you give
When your heart
is empty?
What do you see
Nothing is real
How can you live
When your heart
is empty?
And the grass seems
greener over there
The people stop,
they stop and stare at you
And look right through
And what you'd give
for just one night
Show them all you've got
some fight in you
The fight's
still in you
Let's go back
To the beginning
Let's go back
To when we were winning
Is there a chance...
- Oh.
- A chance to start over?
We're all rooting
for you, Mark.
I mean, we're rooting
for all of us.
Thanks, Dawn.
It means a lot.
Come on.
What's going on?
TREVOR: You must be here
for the Ginger Storm.
I figure, if we're gonna
do this, we go all in.
No prisoners.
DANNY:
Go on, Mark.
TREVOR: If you still want me
to lead this motley crew...
it would be an honor.
GLENN:
Old times, Bulldog?
Old times, Gladiator.
No pissing about, mind.
We do this proper.
We train hard.
It's not gonna be easy.
We're trying to turn the clock
back nearly 30 bleedin' years.
So no half-arsed
bollocks, right?
Right.
Son of Bulldog.
- DANNY: Your time has come, pal.
- Go on, go for it, lad.
- CLIFF: Go and get some.
- DANNY: Get in there, son. Go on.
GLENN:
This is it, Mark.
This is how
it should have always been.
LARA:
Go for it, Mark.
- (SHOUTS)
- (LAUGHTER)
- MARK: Come on!
- (SHOUTING, GROWLING)
Come on!
- You ready for this?
- Are you...
ready for this?
- (CHEERING)
- Ooh, that's ready.
DANNY:
Go on, Mark!
LARA:
Go on, catch him, Mark!
Mix your movements.
he's starting...
I love you, son.
- Eh?
- (TREVOR SHOUTS)
(BELL DINGS)
POPSY: I've got a
little news for you.
It seems
that your reunion
has garnered interest
from across the seas.
Meaning?
Meaning, you're like
famous and that.
- Like proper famous.
- WAYNE: You're everywhere. Look at this.
BRONSON: Look how many
followers you got here.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
- Is that really me?
- Oh, that's...
H: You've got over
three million views.
H: You've thousands of
likes in Australia.
BRONSON:
Gone sat-digital.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
DAWN:
So, um...
What's the catch?
When is this
all gonna go wrong?
There's no catch, Dawn.
Apart from you,
of course.
(CHUCKLES)
A new royal family,
a wild nobility
We are the family
- (ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
- (SHOUTING)
You see the fall?
You see the...
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Look at that. That's homemade.
That's proper homemade, that.
Dawn! Yes! Hot off the press.
Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!
(LAUGHING)
(LAUGHING)
Yes!
- Get it. Yeah, that's it.
- Turn me.
- Easy! Easy! Easy!
- Yeah, yeah, I am.
Time of the essence.
(GROWLING)
Oh! Mum.
Not a bloody word, you big jessie.
You'll be fine.
TREVOR: And I know we're not
as agile as we once were,
but we're gonna give it
a bloody good go.
But one amongst us has
to learn something new.
We need a Bob Dylan.
(MUTTERING)
What's a Bob Dylan, Dad?
It's a villain, Mark.
Every story needs one.
You all know that,
and so does the crowd.
We need somebody
to play the bad guy.
- Or girl.
- I might be bad, Trevor,
but I'm not
that kind of bad.
TONY: I've got blond
hair and blue eyes.
I wear gold. I'm
personification of goodness.
Tony, you might have been transported
here on wings of angels,
but that doesn't change the fact
that for this thing to work,
somebody has to be bad.
- TONY: Jolly Roger.
- Got it.
- The Prince of Darkness, Arse Vader.
- Pope John Brawl II.
- DANNY: Backstreet Bandit.
- TONY: Locked up.
- Busty Malone?
- GLENN: Knuckles Nicholson.
- DEREK: Turnbuckle Tommy Turgoose.
- TONY: He's dead.
- What about you?
- Yeah. Yeah.
Me? Forget it.
The Bulldog
wouldn't go bad.
Neither would
his tag partner.
You've got no chance.
We've got
shiny bomber jackets,
with cartoon bulldogs doing
the pose and everything.
HARRY:
There is one.
Lesley Beck.
- Are you off your head?
- No.
When was the last time
we saw Lesley Beck?
He went mad when we got
taken off the air.
What do you mean, "went"?
He always was mad.
Remember when
he ate that badger pelt
- and coughed up hair balls all over Rollerball Rocco?
- Rocco, aye.
- Crackers.
- TONY: Yeah, bollocks to the badger pelt.
Do you remember when he brought
that Shetland pony into the ring
and punched it just
to upset kids?
Out of order.
MARK: Is he even
still alive anyway?
Oh yeah,
he's alive all right.
Even death
couldn't take that one.
Well, there's only
one way to find out.
Oh, you can't be serious.
He'll eat me
for his supper.
Trevor, I've got
promotion to do.
- We've gotta get out there and...
- It's your show, you go.
(ALL AGREEING)
- Yeah.
- What he said.
Right. Very well.
Then I shall throw myself on a
grenade to save this battalion.
But I want
close protection.
(SCOFFS) I do not believe
you, Cliff Morris.
It's what you do,
isn't it?
Well, "A," I would not get my
sleek Jag down to that farm,
and two, I'll already be
protecting somebody else.
You don't know
when I'm going.
- TREVOR: You go tomorrow.
- Exactly.
And I'll be closely protecting
somebody else tomorrow.
(STAMMERS)
All day.
DEREK: Rickson's put a
dent in our van, Wilson.
That's on you.
DANNY:
And you can replace our '99.
- I didn't ask for this.
- Neither did we.
Driving out to the Yorkshire Moors
to a psychopath's pig farm.
POPSY:
I cannot stand pigs.
I hate them. With their
snouts and trotters.
They're so oinky.
Oinky?
Yes, oinky!
(BRAKES SQUEAL)
(ENGINE STOPS)
That's it.
Beck Farm.
POPSY:
Oh, can't we turn back?
I mean, the house
is scary enough.
DANNY:
We've come this far.
We need him, Popsy.
Trevor's right.
POPSY: Can't one of youse be bad?
Please?
Just for one night,
be the bad guy?
Just open the gate.
How about you open the gate
and I'll drive the van in?
Nobody, I repeat, nobody
drives this ice cream van
except me or me brother.
Now get out
and open that gate.
Or shall we throw you out
and leave you here?
All right.
Oh God. Bloody leg.
(PIGS SNORTING)
Bloody hurry up!
(GATE CREAKS)
Of course.
A spooky creak.
Come on.
Hurry up.
Wait, wait. Wait!
Go, go, go, go, go.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
Yes, very funny. Just stop the van.
For Christ's sake!
Go on, again.
Again, again, again.
(SPUTTERING)
DANNY:
Oh, he's not happy.
- (BROTHERS LAUGH)
- He runs like a duck.
DEREK:
Come on, you Smurf.
Just wait.
(BROTHERS LAUGHING)
Pair of Dixons.
Come on.
- DANNY: Come on, Pops.
- DEREK: Don't be so soft. Get in.
Hilarious.
Close the window.
- So mature.
- Shut up.
What a couple of cards
the Dixon Brothers are.
- Turn back.
- Why?
Because that suggests
that it might be a good idea.
Behave.
We're not trespassing.
Oh, what? He sent you
a scented invitation, did he?
- Look, you. We're here because...
- I know why we're here!
- And I just wish...
- (LOUD BANG)
- Jesus, Mary, Joseph!
- (LOUD WAILING OINKING)
- What was that?
- A pig. We've hit a bastard pig!
(SCREAMING)
(WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)
Calm down! Just calm down!
- (SQUELCHING)
- (SCREAMING)
- (GUN COCKS)
- Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
(TAPPING)
(MUSIC STOPS)
You.
You in the ice cream van.
You owe me a sow.
MARK: Do you think they'll
be all right, Dad?
TREVOR:
They'll be fine, son.
Those Dixon Brothers
might be gentle giants,
but they'll have Popsy's back.
I hope you're right, Dad.
- Oh, my God.
- TREVOR: What is it?
- They've killed a copper.
- TREVOR: What?
Two sugars.
One.
None in that one.
Thanks, Mr Beck. And sorry about the...
you know.
It just... It just
came out of nowhere.
Yeah, we're sorry
about that.
Not "that." Or "it."
She.
Belinda.
A beautiful sow.
No prizewinner,
but those magnificent teats
have suckled a few.
I hope I'm right in thinking
you didn't drive out here
all purposeful
to murder a pig?
- No.
- No. No.
So why are you here?
Well...
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
CLIFF: Hold on, Dawn.
Watch me personal space.
Cliff. Just...
I'm trying to,
but something's gonna give.
It's gonna go.
Wait a minute, will you?
Boo!
Lesley Beck.
- I'm Mark...
- BECK: Mark Bolton.
We met, lad, many times.
Yea high,
last time I saw you.
Always trying to get your moves
seen by your dad over there.
Quite rightly lodged yourself
firmly under Ginger's wing.
He saw you.
He were a good man.
God rest his soul.
Is that the original?
Aye. Only ever
had the one.
Witnessed
40 years of terror,
through these eyelets.
(CHUCKLING)
- Boo!
- (WHIMPERS)
Around 27 pubs a week
are closing across the UK,
with that number set to rise.
Some, however, will not go
without a fight.
Quite literally in the case of The
Half Nelson in West Yorkshire.
A group of ex-wrestlers
known as the Panthers
are staging
a battle royale
in an attempt to save their
pub from being demolished.
A video showing the Panthers
dust off their moves
to "Get Their Grapple On"
has gone viral.
The clip captured
the imagination of millions
and inspired the promoter,
Popsy Wilson,
to put on the fund-raiser dubbed the
"Ginger Storm." The wrestlers...
Who signed off on closing
The Half Nelson?
CHAUFFEUR: That'll be
Paul Peterson, Miss Winters.
It's another Bowers deal.
A Peterson and Bowers deal.
What a surprise.
CHAUFFEUR:
It would be a bloody shame.
- What would?
- CHAUFFEUR: To lose The Nelson.
Set up a meeting
with the board.
And get me four tickets
to the Ginger Storm.
- CHAUFFEUR: The wrestling?
- Yes! The bloody wrestling.
Terry. Never shake my hand.
Snap-snap, it's all over.
Look. Good lad.
Keep your eyes
on our friend here.
All right, he's...
Lesley, this is
Terry, Terry.
- I can't.
- Shake the man's hand. What's up with you?
- TREVOR: Come on, son.
- Come on, Mark.
Come on, come on.
- (GROANING)
- TREVOR: Son. All right.
(LAUGHS)
- TREVOR: Come on.
- LARA: Let him go.
TREVOR: That's all right, son.
Come on.
It's all right, Mark.
- Just relax. You'll get it.
- You can do it, man.
How... How do you do the grab?
How'd you get the grab?
So you get the head
under there like that...
- Yeah?
- ...and then you interlock the hands.
And then you sit up proud
and show him off. Look at that!
Look what I've got. Easy.
Sorry, son.
LARA: Come on, Mark.
Just relax. Relax.
(CHATTERING)
(SHOUTS)
LARA:
That's it.
(SHOUTING ENCOURAGEMENTS)
- (LAUGHS) Ah yes!
- No! No!
Easy! Easy!
TREVOR: Easy on him, Cliff.
Easy on him.
It's okay, son.
No, you were right, Dad.
You were right not to put me
in the ring.
You know, I can't do it.
I'm an embarrassment.
To all of you.
I'm no Panther.
- Mark!
- BECK: Let the lad go.
All right, knobhead?
(HIP HOP MUSIC PLAYING)
Piss off.
What's up with you?
I've heard you're a
right little grappler.
You heard wrong.
No, seriously,
what's up with you?
The whole town's buzzing
about this wrestling malarkey.
Even I am
a little tiny bit.
Well, you can take
my place, then.
Probably even better than me
with that foot.
Yeah, I probably am.
Why don't I help you?
Keep you focused.
I know a bit of oregano. Get you
ready for the canvas and that.
How do I turn that frown
upside down?
I just...
can't bring back
the old school.
Do you know
what I mean?
Just can't summon it.
You can't summon it?
Oh, right, then we're
bollocksed then, aren't we?
Look, forget about
the old school.
Get up off your arse and
welcome to the new school,
of Ricky "Bastard" Rickson.
Follow me.
Push me a minute.
There you are. There you go.
Limber, limber!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Big boy squat.
Big boy squat.
- (GRUNTING)
- Right then.
- That's it, that's it.
- Now can we go?
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Okay, Mark!
- One!
- Two!
Two!
Go on.
Usain Bolton.
Let's do this!
Down the slide.
That rope, right up.
Ah, that's it, that's it.
There you are.
- You got it, man.
- (PANTS)
You gotta get yourself into them
little tight spots. You've got it.
ALL (SINGING ALONG):
Standing so tall
You are gold
(EXCLAIMS)
Always believe
in your soul
You've got
the power to know
You're indestructible
Always believing
'Cause you are gold
I'm glad that you're
bound to return
Something I could
have learned
You're indestructible
Always believing...
- (BONES CRACKING)
- Ooh.
- Shh, shh, shh, shh.
- After the rush has gone
I hope you find
a little more time...
Bloody hell.
It's only two years ago
The man with the suit
and the face
- (PANTHER GROWLS)
- You knew he was there on the case...
- Oh, my God!
- What?
Tickets have sold out!
- (COOS)
- (COOING)
And you could leave me
standing so tall...
(ALL ROAR)
GLORIA:
Woo-hoo, Tony!
You are gold
Always believe
in your soul
You've got
the power to know...
And... there we go!
Always believing,
'cause you are gold...
I've brought vitamin C,
and I've got you some bananas
for your strength.
ALL (CHANTING):
Panthers! Panthers! Panthers!
Always believing...
(GRUNTING)
I can hold you.
(PEOPLE CHEERING)
Got you.
RICKY: Hurry up, lad,
I'm getting older!
Come on,
you got this.
Keep up!
Get up, Mark.
(MARK EXHALES DEEPLY)
- Come past.
- I can't. I can't. I can't.
My love is like
a high prison wall
But you could leave me
standing so tall...
Nearly got you there, lad.
A half nelson.
A full nelson.
Come on, Rickson! I'll smash
the granny out of you!
You've got
the power to know
You're indestructible
You've got it, mate!
You've got it!
'Cause you are gold
I'm glad that
you're bound to return...
My best mate, he is.
Back in a blur
You're indestructible
It's all all right.
The pub is safe. We're fine.
Machine. Shaneequa.
(CHEERING)
Ginger Storm! Ginger Storm!
Ginger Storm! Ginger Storm!
RICKY: He's done it!
He's only gone and done it!
(BOTH CHEERING)
RICKY: He's gone and done it!
He's only gone and done it!
I did it,
I did it, I did it!
(CHEERING)
- I knew you'd do it.
- Thanks, lad. Thanks.
It's time.
(DOOR OPENS)
LARA: It might make
you a bit gassy.
Jesus. I bet
they're dreaming.
TREVOR: Are you sure
about this, son?
Oh, he's got it.
- (MARK GRUNTS)
- (RING THUDS)
(THUDDING)
Yes, you little toe-rag.
I do believe he has.
- (MARK GRUNTS)
- Whoa!
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
I wake up,
check my phone
Jump in my whip
and off I go
I pay off the police
to stay out of my way
I got it all sewn up
and I'm kingpin for a day
I got the blues,
I got the reds
Yellow-tops
and spider legs
You'd swear it's from Heaven,
but it all grows naturally
I got it all right here
and I'm kingpin for a day
- When you're a kingpin...
- Mr. Wilson?
POPSY: Yeah, we're here.
We're here. The waiting is over.
(CHEERING)
People wanna take you down
Oh, my God.
- When you're a kingpin...
- It's time.
- (CHEERING CONTINUES)
- Nobody shows, nobody shows you how...
CROWD (CHANTING):
Panthers, Panthers, Panthers!
(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)
(FANFARE PLAYS)
It's Saturday afternoon.
It's 4:00 PM.
It's grapple time!
Ladies and gentlemen,
boys and girls...
welcome
to the Ginger Storm!
(CHEERS AND APPLAUSE)
Hush your noise.
Be quiet now. Ooh.
I've only got
one more word for you.
Easy.
CROWD (CHANTING):
Easy! Easy! Easy!
Easy! Easy! Easy! Easy!
Easy! Easy! Easy! Easy!
POPSY: Would you please
welcome, one hulk of a man,
it's only "Screwball"
Danny Dixon!
MABEL:
I'm ready for you.
Go on.
Get out of way, woman.
MABEL: Don't you hurt my
Glenn, you big girl's blouse.
For the challenge
of bout number one...
would you please welcome...
- "Gladiator" Glenn Higgins!
- (CHEERING AND BOOING)
Easy!
I can't believe
I never got a beard net.
Oh, no, wait, look...
what I got for you, broski.
Look at that.
That belonged
to my granddad, though.
Oh. Uh...
I... I don't wanna
sound ungrateful,
but I don't...
I don't think I want
a dead man's beard net.
He's not dead, Terry.
I nicked it off him
while he were sleeping.
(CHEERING, SHOUTING)
(SHOUTING)
- How's your knee?
- It'll hold.
Get back in there, you bloody soft lad.
He's lame.
- (THUD)
- (CROWD CHEERING)
- Boo!
- (GASP)
My bollocks.
- One!
- I'm not on your bollocks.
- I know you're not.
- Two!
DANNY: They're hanging out
the back of my leotard.
Three!
- (BELL RINGING)
- (CROWD BOOING)
I'm not wrong.
Oi, Gladiator!
Nobody takes my brother down.
(CHEERING)
- Yes!
- REFEREE: One!
- Got him!
- Two!
- (SHOUTING)
- (CROWD BOOING)
(DEREK GROANS)
REFEREE:
One! Two! Three! He's out!
- Hail Scissor indeed.
- I'm sorry.
We have a champion.
Gladiator Glenn Higgins!
- But behold...
- Give your mum a kiss.
...Zulu Dawn!
(MAJESTIC MUSIC PLAYING)
CROWD (CHANTING):
Zulu! Zulu! Zulu! Zulu!
- (CROWD CHEERING)
- You're going down, Zulu!
- Going down!
- (MUSIC CONTINUES)
(GROANS)
(CROWD CHEERS)
- (GLENN GROANS)
- Ooh.
Come here.
(GLENN GROANS)
(EXCLAIMS)
Cliff has not
trained us for this.
- No. I'm not... I'm not prepared to see it...
- Cliff's not taught us that.
...let alone react to it.
I don't like it.
- It's over. It's over.
- (BELL DINGING)
You won. It's over.
POPSY: It appears
that Rorke's Drift,
has triumphed over Pompeii!
Zulu Dawn is the victor!
(DAWN CHEERS)
And up the temperature now.
Would you please welcome
Tony "Sweet Cheeks" Smith.
- (HEROIC MUSIC PLAYING)
- (GUNSHOT SOUND EFFECTS)
- (MUSIC CONTINUES)
- (GUNSHOTS CONTINUE)
Come... ooh!
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(WHIP CRACKS)
Yes!
And now,
the one, the only,
Lara "Liplock" Anderson.
Submit to my love
On your back,
on your front
On all fours,
fours, fours
Submit to my love
On your back, on your front
On all fours,
fours, fours...
(CROWD CHEERING)
Boo!
Get a life.
Showtime. Come on.
(ENGINE ROARING)
(ENGINE REVS, STOPS)
(MUFFLED)
Submit to my love
Submit to my love
- (TONY GROANS)
- Submit to my love
On your back,
on your front...
Tony, get him out!
On all fours,
fours, fours...
- LARA: Down.
- (CROWD BOOS)
REFEREE:
Watch it, you. Down.
One! Two!
LARA:
Right. Come here, cowboy.
Wait till I get
my hands on you!
- Come here, you freak!
- (LARA SQUAWKING)
TONY:
Ladies, enough!
- GLORIA: What is it? What is it, Tony?
- (MUSIC STOPS)
I love you.
- LARA: What?
- (CROWD AWW'S)
What?
I love you, Gloria Giles,
and I love Tony Junior.
You're everything
a man could wish for.
Do you think
we could be a family?
I believe destiny
says it can be...
- LARA: You twat!
- (GRUNTS)
- (LARA SHOUTS)
- On your back, on your front
Piss off!
(CROWD BOOING)
- Submit to my love...
- Oh! She's back!
(CROWD CHEERING)
Come on. Come on.
Thank you very much, my friend.
Right, I'm in. Okay, here we go.
Watch and learn.
Right, verbals and violence.
The two "V's."
POPSY: Who's slipped himself
under the bottom rope?
Ooh, it's Cliff "Edge" Morris.
- Amateur bullshit!
- Ah, man trouble?
(IMITATES CRYING)
CLIFF'S DAUGHTER:
Daddy! Daddy!
Hi, Daddy.
- (CROWD CHEERING)
- LARA: Aww.
(CLIFF GROANS)
LARA:
Piss off, Morris.
Oh, my God.
I sense a presence.
- (CROWD GASPS)
- Ooh.
Ladies and gentlemen, I...
(PIG SQUEALS)
Oh, that's brilliant.
I can't exactly give you
a menacing introduction,
with that hideous creature
running about the place.
From the Seventh
Circle of Hell,
it's Lesley Beck.
(CROWD BOOS)
BECK: Look after him. Otherwise
you'll have me to answer to.
One and all, come one, come all.
Come on.
That wall first.
TONY:
Oh, bloody hell.
I don't wanna fight you.
Here, just have belt.
- Fight me for it!
- POPSY: Fight him!
- Fight him for it!
- No. No, it's past me bedtime.
- REFEREE: Have it!
- BECK: Get off of me!
Have it. I'm not fighting you.
- BECK: Come on, you wanker.
- See you next time. Enjoy it.
With no more challengers...
we've got ourselves
a new champion.
Lesley Beck!
TREVOR: Correction,
Popsy Wilson.
Challengers remain!
It's Trevor "Bulldog" Bolton!
- (SHOUTS)
- (CROWD CHEERS)
Yeah!
(GROWLS)
BECK: Come on! Let's
be havin' you!
You might as well
give up now,
'cause you'll never beat me
on your own.
MARK:
Who said he was on his own?
TREVOR: Lesley Beck,
meet "Son of Bulldog"
Mark Bolton!
I'm coming for you,
Lesley Beck!
Yes!
(CROWD CHEERS)
- MARGARET: I love you, Mark Bolton.
- Good job, son.
Hello, love.
Son of Bulldog!
(MOANING)
TERRY GRAHAM:
Was it the violence or the lady?
It was too much violences.
Everywhere you look, violences.
- Where have his testicles gone?
- Oh, keep wafting.
Keep wafting, Terry.
Oh, I've got me sight back, anyway.
That's a bonus.
MARK:
Lesley.
What are you doing?
BECK:
You are nowt but a pup,
- and a runt at that.
- Yeah?
I'll show you who's a pup.
Mum, take me coat.
(GROANING)
You went a bit off script
there, didn't you, Lesley?
- (GROANS)
- BECK: That on script enough for you?
- You've done it! You've done it!
- Go on, son.
- His mask!
- You did it, Bulldog!
(GROANING)
- MARGARET: You're all right, love.
- It's proper blood, innit?
Stay calm. Oi!
That is my son!
- What, this one?
- MARGARET: Yes.
Right.
- All right, mother?
- MARGARET: Trevor!
MARK:
Go on, Dad.
(GROANING)
You need
to work as a pair,
you and your boy,
to beat me, Bolton.
Be honest with me.
Are they swollen?
- Mm, I don't think they're swollen, Cliff.
- Eh?
They're still... They're still
very little. They're...
- CLIFF: Eh?
- ...sm...
They're... They're...
They're very nice, Cliff.
- (GROANING)
- (CROWD CHEERS)
TREVOR: Go on, lad. Go on, Mark.
(GASPING)
(LAUGHING EVILLY)
Sweet!
(BECK GROANING)
Oh, you...
Right, Mark. You're doing all
right, bud, but you gotta get up.
BECK: Who might you
be, shithouse?
I'm Ricky "Bastard" Rickson,
you greasy bell-end.
- (BECK GROANS)
- All right, finish him off, Mark.
- MABEL: Nice one, Ricky.
- Thank you.
(CROWD CHEERING)
I've told you before.
Now get over it.
That's cheating!
That crazy guy!
(GROANING)
CROWD (CHANTING):
Easy! Easy! Easy!
MARK:
For Ginger!
REFEREE:
One!
Two!
Three!
- (BELL RINGING)
- (CROWD CHEERING)
POPSY: Your saviors
of The Half Nelson...
The Panthers!
For Ginger.
For The Half Nelson.
CROWD (CHANTING):
Panthers! Panthers!
(MOBILE PHONE RINGING)
Who's that now?
Hi, Mum.
No, I can't talk at the moment! I'm
doing close protection, aren't I?
What, granddad's beard net?
No, I ain't seen that
at all, no, no.
Oh, sorry, Mum, I'm lying to you.
I can't lie to you.
I do know where it is. I borrowed
it for camouflage purposes.
What's he doing
awake anyway?
Cliff!
(BOOMING)
(ELECTRICITY CRACKLING)
(GROANS)
- (ELECTRICITY CRACKLING)
- (GLEEFULLY CHUCKLING)
Try if you can
To walk like a man
But you,
you don't come near
You've got to fly
like an eagle
Prowl like
a lion in Africa
Leap like a salmon
home from the sea
To keep up with me
You've got to walk
like a panther tonight
Walk like
a panther tonight
Walk like a
panther tonight
Walk like a panther tonight
You've gotta walk
like a...
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)
You! What are you playing
at, you big divvy?
You're not doing this!
What are you doing?
What's going on here, eh?
Move, you minute maniac.
I won't move anywhere. None of
us are moving anywhere, mate.
This is our pub! Do you hear me?
This is our pub!
Mum! Mum! Come here! Quick!
Hurry up! Help us out!
All of youse,
come here! Get here!
We're not moving. We're not moving.
We're not moving.
Someone knock
this bastard pub down.
- I'm in charge here.
- (CAR APPROACHES)
It appears you're not.
Winters is coming.
Oh, you must be...
Janet!
Shut up, you rancid tosser.
Apologize.
- I'm sorry.
- Not to me, to them.
- Sorry.
- Louder.
(CROWD LAUGHS)
- Sorry.
- For what?
Sorry that I tried
to knock your pub down.
Yeah, right.
Your pub.
Exactly. Your pub.
The Half Nelson is now
a community pub,
which means it belongs to you.
All of you.
My gift
to the Panthers.
Look after her.
Bollocks.
- (PUNCHES)
- WINTERS: You, you're fired.
Miss Winters, Miss Winters.
Thank you.
God, I bloody love
wrestling.
- Have at him, ladies.
- Right.
- Oi!
- You twat.
(CROWD GROANING)
(LAUGHTER)
All in. All in.
(CHEERING)
CROWD (CHANTING):
Panthers! Panthers! Panthers!
POPSY:
Mark.
What's that?
This is the fund
for The Nelson.
How much is in it?
Enough.
Mark Bolton?
MARGARET: Uh, yeah.
Who wants to know?
Look, your... your boss
has already been, mate.
She... She said
we can have the pub.
SUIT 1:
We're here for you, Mark.
Not the pub.
- Well, who are you then?
- SUIT 1: Scouts.
I am, yeah.
And proud, mate.
- Not Scouse. Scouts.
- SUIT 2: Scouts.
- (GASPS)
- (LAUGHING)
- Wrestling scouts?
- Yes, Mark.
Oh, Mum!
- I'm gonna need a manager.
- And I am gonna need this.
I'm gonna be
a wrestler!
(CHEERING)
I've done it!
(PANTHER ROARS)
Kingpin on a cutback
Kingpin
on a cutback
With sunken eyes
Big cheese in a bedsit
A big cheese
in a bedsit
A shit disguise...
Stick and move, they say
You want to try me?
You should
have left me
Just where
you found me
See, you're dreaming,
thinking it could be
You'll have to trust me
Just don't believe me
Reap...
What you sow
Comeback kid
Says hello
And here
Here we stand
Side by side
Don't
let go...
There's enough wrestling
for everybody.
- In you go, mate. Get out the way.
- It's okay.
Reap what you sow
Comeback kid
- (CROWD CHEERING)
- Says hello
Panthers!
This is for you!
That's our son!
(CHEERING)
Side by side
Don't let go
(GROANS)
- (EXCLAIMS)
- (CAMERA FLASH POPS)
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
Here am I
I'm high up on a ledge
I'm standing on the edge
I'm hiding alone
in some town
Where love has been
and gone
I'm waiting for the storm
to come back
And take me down
The things
I left unsaid
When lying on the bed
Right next to the face
you wore
When you left me
on my one
Now I've been
on my own
And I must say
I didn't come here
to make up your mind
I do believe that you
were wasting my time
There's no more tears
left to cry myself blind
If love is the law
Then this is a crime
Memories
Forever set in stone
When all is said and done
They're just like
the fallen leaves
Together in your head
The sun's about to set
I sail out
on stormy seas
But I cannot find
the shore
Can't hear you any more
And there's nothing
left for me
Lying broken
on the glass
And the ship's
about to crash
And I must say
I didn't come here
to make up your mind
I do believe that you
were wasting my time
There's no more tears
left to cry myself blind
If love is the law
Then this is a crime
I didn't come here
to make up your mind
I do believe that you
were wasting my time
There's no more tears
left to cry myself blind
If love is the law
Then this is a crime
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
There's an aching
in my bones
I feel a pounding
in my heart
Nostalgia coursing
through my veins
It's time for this
comeback to start
Pushing to the limits
It's a punishing ordeal
It's all or nothing now
This time I know
it's for real
'Cause I'm back
in the game
People say I'm insane
'Cause I'm staking
my claim
And I'll rise once again
Yes, I'm back
in the game
Holding you
in a nelson
Your feet stomping
on the ground
Tie you up
in a Boston crab
Take your title
in three rounds
Tell me,
who's the daddy?
Who's the top
of the grapple tree?
I'll body-block
your bulky frame
It's easy,
easy, easy
Back in the game
Body pumped like a train
Opponents,
they will be slain
This phoenix
rises again
Yes, I'm back
in the game
Yes, I'm back
in the game
(PANTHER ROARS)
(SNARLS)