Tommy: It was Wednesday morning. We were in the Volley, playing pool. That much is true. But, Begbie is playing absolutely fucking 'gash!'
Tommy: He's got a hangover so bad, he can barely hold the cue, never mind pot a ball. And I'm doing my best to lose, you know trying to humour him like. But it's not doing any good. Every time I hit the ball, I seem to pot something. Every time Begbie goes near the table, he fucks it up.
Tommy: Oh, for fuck sake.
Tommy: So he's got the hump, right? But, finally I manage to set it up so that all he's gotta do is to pot the black, to savage a little bit of pride, and maybe not kick my head in, yeah? So he squares up... pressure shot...
Tommy: And it all goes wrong, big time!
Begbie: Fuck!
Tommy: He picks on this speccy wee gadge at the bar, accusing him of putting him off by looking at him. I mean the man hasn't glanced in that direction.
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From: Trainspotting