A totally mismatched gang of rogues are thrown together to steal some very valuable chairs for a fading Yorkshire TV celebrity. Expect bickering, backstabbing, and gruesome violence in this gritty and macabre story of a heist that goes wrong.
'Dainties, gentlemen?' she said.
'I've fucked my fucking leg,' said Dean, which gave me one of my ideas.
'His chair isn't stable,' I said. 'Can we have another one?'
The waitress went inside the museum, came out again and walked across the middle outhouse ... and came out holding Chair Number One - just one Chair Number One, but in the gloomy little shed I could see the other three ....
The chair was brought to Dean, who sat on it. 'Fanks,' he said, and with the waitress standing behind him, he looked across at me and winked. 'Bingo!' said Dean. 'Ver very fing we've been looking for, right?'
As I've often said, Dean was a moron. I gave him the evil eye while I asked the waitress for tea, and he got the message.