Gorgeous George: It's a camp site, a pikey campsite...
Tommy: Ten points.
Gorgeous George: What we doing here?
Tommy: We're buying a caravan.
Gorgeous George: Off a pack of in' pikeys? What's wrong with you? This will get messy.
Tommy: Well not if you're here.
Gorgeous George: Oh, you ! I in' hate pikeys!
Turkish: [
narrating] It turned out that the sweet-talking, tattoo-sporting pikey was a gypsy bare-knuckle boxing champion. Which makes him harder than a coffin nail. Right now, that's the last thing on Tommy's mind. If Gorgeous doesn't wake up in the next few minutes, Tommy knows he'll be buried with him. Why would the gypsies go through the trouble of explaining why a man died in their campsite when they can bury the pair of them and just move camp? It's not like they got social security numbers, is it? Tommy - the tit - is praying. And if he isn't, he ing should be.