Tommy Johnson: What else are you gonna do on a Saturday? Sit in your fuckin' armchair wankin' off to Pop Idols? Then try and avoid your wife's gaze as you struggle to come to terms with your sexless marriage? Then go and spunk your wages on kebabs, fruit machines and brasses? Fuck that for a laugh! I know what I'd rather do. Tottenham away, love it.
Billy Bright: Don't fuck about, ping him.
Billy Bright: Are you tryin' to mug me off in front of my pals?
Tommy Johnson: Jesus! I was expecting a bowl of cornflakes and a quick wank.
Billy Bright: We'll get the beers safe and then we'll outflank 'em, yeah?
Tamara: Don't tell me you'd rather go to football.
Rod: Well, I am male.
Tommy Johnson: There's nothing different about me. I'm just another bored male, approaching 30, in a dead-end job, who lives for the weekend. Casual sex, watered-down lager, heavily cut drugs. And occasionally kicking fuck out of someone.
Raff: The geezer is a complete nutter who will never talk to us again, and everyone else thinks we're thieving little cunts.
Tommy Johnson: You are thieving little cunts.
Tommy Johnson: My granddad, old Bill Farrell, drove us to drink with his stories about the war and how he fought to put the "Great" into Britain. He said fighting at football was nothing compared to fighting with the Germans... Although, he was right. We're an island race. It's what we do best. It's not about color or race, it's just the buzz of being in the frontline. Truth is, I just love to fight.
Tommy Johnson: The next best thing to violence is sex. And seeing as there's nearly 500,000 single women in London, I must be in with half a chance. Especially as I'd fuck anything that's breathing.
Billy Bright: C'mon, jog on.
