[after having just robbed Dog and his crew]

Jesus, that wasn't too bad, was it?

When the bottle in my arse has contracted, I'll let you know.

Bacon, see what we've got.

Let's have a butcher's, eh?

[He inspects the loot]

We've hit the jackpot, lads! We've got God-knows-how-much of this stinking weed, a shitload of cash... and a traffic warden.

What?

[Bacon holds up an unconscious man]

Jesus, Ed, we've got a traffic warden!

I think he's still alive -- he's got claret coming out of him somewhere. What did they want with a traffic warden?

I don't know, but I don't think we need him! Knock him out and dump him at the lights!

Knock him out? What'd ya mean, knock him out? Knock him out with what?

I don't know! Use your imagination!

[Bacon punches the Traffic Warden, who moans in pain.]

Don't touch him up! Knock him out!

I'll knock you out in a minute! Look, you want to knock him out? You knock him out.

I **** hate traffic wardens.
[After a pause, Tom and Eddie jump into the back of the van with Bacon; all three proceed to batter the Traffic Warden senseless.]