Look mate, I'm not being funny, but the last thing I want to do is take you to the match...

Pete Dunham: Look mate, I'm not being funny, but the last thing I want to do is take you to the match with me. So here's how it works, you give me half the money, I'll go to football, and you can have a wonder 'round where Churchill took a tom, or whatever it is you Yanks do here in Jolly old. Matt Buckner: Tom? Pete Dunham: Tom. A tom tit. A shit. It's rhyming slang, like bees and honey for money. Or I could say to you, give me the fucking bees. Matt Buckner: I made a promise to Steve. Pete Dunham: Well Steve ain't here, is he mate. And to be honest, your pissing in the wind if you think I'm taking you with me. Matt Buckner: Well, I'm not giving you the money. Pete Dunham: You ain't really got a fucking choice mate. And your starting to ge ton my tits. Give me half the money. Matt Buckner: [Matt points to something] Cops! Pete Dunham: [Pete looks over to where Matt pointed, and Matt tries to kick Pete. Pete grabs Matts foot and turns to him] Well how fucking stupid do you feel now? Come on then, dance for me Yankee. [Pete kicks Matt's other foot and Matt falls to the ground] Pete Dunham: That's what you get for fighting like a bleeding tart. But try that again, and I will kick he shit out of you. Matt Buckner: yeah, the tom out of me, i get it. Pete Dunham: [laughing] Get up, come on.