Somewhere in Yorkshire in the 1970s.
WHITEHAT McHACK: Kiddies being killed and shopping centres being built – it’s not right. I want to make a difference.
PC BEEF DRIPPING: Don’t we all, son? But if you come sniffing around here, sticking your nose where it’s not wanted, we’ll slam your fucking head in a door.
WHITEHAT McHACK: It’s not right, that.
INSPECTOR BASTARD: I don’t think he heard you, Dripping. Obviously got too much southern spunk in his ears. Let’s see if we can’t do something about that.
BASTARD and DRIPPING drag McHACK’s face over an industrial cheese grater then pour salt and vinegar on his wounds.
WHITEHAT McHACK: Ahhhh! Gerrroff y’bastards!
PETER SUTCLIFFE: Don’t fight it, son. ‘Appen I’m the Yorkshire Ripper. Not that these lot care.
TYCOON KIDDIE-FIDDLER: Come and feast your eyes on this. It’s a little something we’ve been working on.
KIDDIE-FIDDLER kicks McHACK into a room where there stands a giant animatronic ARTHUR SCARGILL
ARTHUR SCARGILL: Maggie! Maggie Maggie! Out! Out! Out! ~click~ *whirrrrr
WHITEHAT McHACK: You Maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell.
TYCOON KIDDIE-FIDDLER: What do you think about that, son? We’re gonna rule the 80s with this
ARTHUR SCARGILL: …bit of a difference of opinion there, Jeff, but we’ll be back after the break on Winner Takes All….
TYCOON KIDDIE-FIDDLER: Needs a bit of work, like.
WHITEHAT McHACK: You won’t get away wi’ this. I’ll tell t’papers. And the rozzers.
INSPECTOR BASTARD: We are the rozzers, son.
PC BEEF DRIPPING: He’s right, you know. This is the North, son. And you won’t meet a bigger set of bastards. I think it’s about time you were going.
McHACK is shot 480 times through the head with masonry bolts. Then they take turns pissing on his corpse. Then they put their cocks in his mouth.
TYCOON KIDDIE-FIDDLER: Right, I’m off for a round of golf, chips wi’ gravy and sex with a minor.
INSPECTOR BASTARD: Bloody hell, you had me worried for a bit there. I thought you said sex with a miner!
TYCOON KIDDIE-FIDDLER: Give over you daft hap’porth. What you think I am – a pervert?
Fade to BLACK.
Imagined March 13, 2009