[Police radio] We've got a domestic violence report on 21st Street
between 6th and 7th, Chelsea Hotel. Domestic violence at Chelsea Hotel.
[Man 2] Car 222, we got a 911 report coming in. Nearest unit, please respond.
DV report, domestic violence, Chelsea Hotel.
7th and 23rd Street.
[Woman] 805-Zebra. 153-473.
[Police radio chatter fades out]
[Man] Who called 911?
Did you call 911?
Get Sal in here.
Keep the fucking press back, will you?
- [Woman sobbing] - Let's go, kid.
[Woman sobbing] Sid didn't do anything. He didn't do this.
She was nice! She was!
You know the type. She's... She's a camp follower.
She was a camp follower. She would go to bed with anyone,
as long as they were part of a group. Officer, we try to check everybody...
- Sid and Nancy were heroin addicts? - No. They didn't do any drugs.
[Man] We don't allow junkies in here ever.
Yeah. Listen, come here. Listen, um, I'm on my way downtown,
- you got a couple of bucks? - I don't have any money.
- Come on, man. - Policy, I never...
- Hey, Sid! - There he is, that's Sid Vicious!
[Reporters clamoring] Sid! What happened, Sid?
[Reporter] Come on, smile for us!
Smile! Give us a big smile!
- [Man 1] Why did you do it, kid? - [Man 2] Said you were married.
[Man 1] Was the chick your groupie?
- No! - Get out, Greeley!
Goddamn it, he bit my hand! That fucker bit my goddamn hand!
- Motherfucker! - I said get out!
What the hell do you people think this is, a fucking Mets game? Get out!
- Fine! - You made him mad, kid.
- You in big trouble. - I'll see you later, punk.
Big trouble.
[Sid coughing]
Why so tense, kid?
Look, we just want to know who the girl was.
Where did you meet her?
Son?
[Sniffs]
[Sniffing]
I met her at Linda's.
Linda?
Who's Linda?
- [Sid] Linda. Lin! Lindy! - [Man 2] Linda.
[Dog barking]
Go on!
- Go on, Sidney, spray the beast! - [Whimpering]
Oh... Come on.
- It's a really good dog. - Boring.
- Linda! - Boring.
- [Whistles] Linda! - Linda!
Linda!
- Piss off, dog meat. - Linda!
- Linda!
- Lin! - [Whistles]
- Oi, Linda! - Linda!
- Linda!
[Shouting continues indistinctly]
It's a real waste to smoke that shit.
Don't you have any needles?
[Glass shattering]
- Great. - I wonder who that is.
- Oi! - Naughty boys!
- [Both] ♪ We're vain cunts - We don't fucking care
No, no "fucking." Not "We don't fucking care."
- How many times do I tell you? - I don't care.
- Eh, Linda, guess what? - What? You two got married?
No. I'm the bass player... in the Osmonds!
- What happened to the other bloke? - [Man] He washed his feet too much.
Sidney never washes his feet. What's for tea?
- [Linda] Baked beans or champagne. - Wonderful.
[Grunts]
[Laughing]
- [Linda] You fucker. - [Laughter]
Nancy, this is Sid and John, and they're...
The Sex Pistols. I love the Sex Pistols.
I have all your albums back in New York.
Yeah, where's that then?
- Hi, Johnny. - I'm Sid. He's John.
[Music playing]
So, playing a gig tonight?
"Playing a gig tonight?" Yeah, we're playing a gig tonight. So what?
So I can come and check you out and see if you're as shit as people say?
[Linda laughing]
Fucking great we are, the Sex Pistols.
So do yourself a favor.
Boring, Sidney. Boring, boring.
Boring, boring, boring.
- Exterminate! Exterminate! - Boring, boring, boring.
[Both] Exterminate!
[Man] Lovely girls!
Ten different girls, all nude, all the time.
Step inside and have the time of your life.
Come on, sir, take your clothes off and have your dinkle tickled. There we go.
Good evening, boys. Would you like to step inside?
These bints. They ain't foreign, is they?
No, of course not, sir. Every one an English rose. They grow on you.
Oh, fuck!
The doorway to the seedy underbelly of London.
Step right up!
Is it fucking worth it? Yes, it is.
[Punk rock plays]
- What a scumbag! - I know!
Hey, fuck off!
["Oh Bondage Up Yours" playing]
♪ Up yours
♪ Oh, bondage no more
♪ Chain-gang, chain-smoke I consume you all
♪ Chain-gang, chain-mail I don't care at all
♪ Oh, bondage up yours
- Better have one drinkie. - Thanks for telling me.
John, you see me knock that hippy? Good, eh?
Oi! Get up there and fulfill our contractual obligations, all right?
- Good God, what's this? - A bass guitar.
- Hey, Sid, there's Dick Dent. - Who's Dick Dent?
Just some wanky journalist that don't appreciate the Sex Pistols.
[John] Go and get him, Sidney. Go!
[Shouting]
[John] Hey, Sidney.
- Come on, when you're ready. - All right.
One, two. One, two, three, four.
[Playing intro to "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone"]
[Feedback squeals]
♪ I-I-I-I I'm not your stepping stone
It won't fucking work. Oi, it won't fucking work.
♪ You're using all the tricks that you used on me
- ♪ Reading all those - Fuck it!
♪ High fashion magazines The clothes you're wearin'
♪ Cause public scenes
♪ I-I-I-I I'm not your stepping stone
Fucking bastards!
♪ I-I-I-I I'm not your stepping stone
♪ Ah, stepping stone ♪
[dog barking in distance]
[Sid] You know, I was so...
I was so bored once
that... I fucked a dog.
[John] Oh, Sidney, how low can you get?
[Sid] A corgi.
- [John] One of the Queen's? - [Man] Is it in yet?
[Woman] No. Well, maybe.
[Belching]
[Farts]
- [Belches] - [Farts]
Eh, evil. [farts]
- [Man] Shut up! - [Woman] Shut the fuck up.
- [Man 2] Shut up! - Fuck off!
- Took me fucking eye out. - [Man] Queer!
[Laughing]
I'm starving.
I'm so hungry. I want a pizza.
- You smell like a fucking pizza. - [Woman] Shut up.
Bollocks.
- Nancy. - Fucking Jesus Christ.
- You're not getting anything. - What?
You heard. Fucking Americans.
That's all you ever think about, sex.
None of us fuck, see. Sex is ugly.
None of your free hippy love shit here.
- Slurping. - You are insane.
Give me me blanket.
Fuck off!
[Man] Oh, Olive, you're so good.
Linda!
- Shit! - [John] Linda!
Ugh, how vile.
Sex is boring, ugly, hippy shit.
Fucking insane too.
Fucking insane.
["Paranoid" playing]
[Man] Get the darts, Paul.
Show me your hands. Keep them where I can see them.
- Go on. - I'm watching you, you bastards.
Here, Paul.
- Fuck off! Fuck off, bastards! - Steady on, boys.
Bastards! It's not funny!
You could stick me in the eye, put it in me brain.
I couldn't play the drums then.
- You can't play the drums, anyway. - [Paul] Bollocks.
- No, you can't. - Speaking of cunts who can't play.
Hello, girls. Where'd you get your perms?
- Rod Stewart look-alikes. - Fucking tit.
- Any chance of lending your mascara? - I don't mean to be mundane,
but I either need the drugs or the money.
- I'm broke. I need it. It's 50 quid. - Fuck you!
- [John] Gary Glitter over there... - You get the fuck out!
Mr. Rotten! I'm soaking.
Four more pints, Sid.
- What do you think of Northern Ireland? - It's all right where it is. [burps]
[Sobbing]
What's the matter? Are you all right?
No!
Well, why, do I look all right?
The fucker in there ripped me off for 50 quid.
Fucking scumbag.
What, he stole it from your purse?
Yeah, almost.
I mean, I gave it to him the first night I was here.
Oh, fuck, it's embarrassing.
Never trust a junkie.
- [Sid] They're junkies, are they? - [Nancy] Isn't everyone?
[Sid] Do you think you can get me some?
Maybe.
- That looks like it hurts. - It does!
So does this.
- You really want some? - Yeah.
All right. Give me all your money.
[Sid] There.
- You OK? - Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm great.
I'll be back in an hour.
See you here. In the pub!
[Thunder crashes]
- Sid, you coming for a pint? - Eh?
- Oi, you fucking wally, shut the door. - Fuck off, tosser.
- No, I'm waiting for this bird. - Fucking-A, man. What's her name?
- Nancy. - Nancy?
You mean that American bird? The junkie?
[Thunder crashes]
She ain't a junkie.
That friend of Linda's? Nancy. Yeah, she's a junkie.
Yeah, well, anyway, I'm waiting for her.
Come on, I'm buying.
- You fucking tosser. - What?
What's the matter?
I always buy my round, don't I?
That's one thing you couldn't say about me, is I'm tight.
- I'm wet. - Come on.
[Laughter]
[Coughing]
Fucking girl.
I've gotta... I want me money back, right.
I'm thinking of starting up this club.
- Oh, yeah, what you gonna call it? - Wally's Gaff.
That's good. Must've taken you ages to think that up.
It's got a ring of street cred about it.
"Oh, let's all go to Wally Gaff's and have a lager."
- Seven pounds, 49 pence. - Water?
12.50.
Where you gonna get all the money?
- Get a mortgage. - [Honking]
- Rod Stewart at 2:00. - [Imitating gunfire]
Oi, you wankers!
Wanker!
Go through that door and climb to the top of the stairs.
Don't speak to anyone.
Ask for Ashrhaf, and don't let her keep you waiting.
Why do I have to go? I've got a broken heel.
And don't get burned.
[Door slams]
I hate... to wait.
[Siren approaching]
[Tires skidding]
- [Honking] - Get me out of here.
What about that chick's gear?
Jettison!
- It's Rod! - All right, Rod!
He's lost his shit.
[Laughing]
- Want some knickers? - Yeah. They're your mum's.
- What are these? - Motherfucker! That's my clothes!
- Hey, you. Where's my money? - Shit! Goddamn!
- Look... - Help me!
I gave you some money. What about my money?
- Listen, I'm talking to you. - Shut up and help me!
Nobody fucks with me. I ought to smash your face in.
What about my drugs?
Here.
Uh, sorry about the mess.
It's these skinheads, see? We've seen them off, though.
You can't run drugs on the sidewalk, Johnny. What are you, an idiot?
- I'm Sid. - Do you want to use my gaff?
- What's a gaff? - Me house. Me apartment.
He's a club owner.
- [Sid] Where's the fish and chips? - What fish and chips?
The fish and chips that you promised to buy us.
- Look, why don't we just go in. - We will.
When he lets us in, we do the drugs,
and then he goes and gets the fish and chips.
- But I want to do some of the drugs. - Yeah, you will. We'll save you some.
Cheers.
This is where the bouncers are going to stand.
[Playing guitar]
[Sid] Wally.
Like, I was at CBGB's at this audition, right?
So this guy says, "Can you sing like Debbie Harry?"
It's a bad deal, looking like an established star, let me tell you that.
I mean, I like Debbie. We're really good friends, actually.
- You've done this before, right? - Oh, yeah, yeah.
Good veins.
[Train passing]
[Coughing]
[Nancy grunts]
Hey.
You know.
No, what?
What?
Don't you want me to?
No.
- [Electric guitar playing] - [Singing indistinctly]
[Sid] Wally!
Wally!
- We don't fucking care. - No! No "fucking."
It's just, "We don't care."
Ow! Be careful!
- Pizza time! - Pizza. My favorite food.
So, what are you waiting for? Playback?
- How many tracks have you laid? - None. We ain't done no songs either.
- Why not? - Sid's still learning it.
- Sid! What are you doing? - I'm eating.
No! You can't have any pizza until you've finished at least one song.
- Aw, fuck off! - No, I'm serious.
What are you doing here?
You're in the studio. These places cost like 50 grand a minute.
You could be really shining out.
- But what? You're just wonking off. - [John] "Wanking."
What happened to you? Did you try and kiss your mother?
- It's none of your business. - John got beaten up by fascists.
- [Woman] Five minutes to last orders. - Bye.
- I'm gonna get pissed. - Fuck off.
- [Nancy] Want some pizza, Johnny? - "Want some pizza, Johnny?"
- [Laughs] - He doesn't like to be called Johnny.
- He likes to be called John. - [Sid] See ya, Johnny.
Fucking cabbies, that's what we should be.
Make 200 quid a night being a cabbie.
Why don't you fuck off and be one then?
- Because it takes 18 months to learn. - And you need a driving license too.
And a set of golf clubs.
See you.
[Reggae music plays]
[Sighs] I don't think Johnny likes me.
He doesn't like anyone. He's a fool.
You like me, don't you?
- Huh? Yeah? - Hmm.
- Yeah? - [Sid laughs]
Kiss my toes.
You want me to?
Yeah.
["God Save the Queen" plays]
[Cheering]
♪ The fascist regime
♪ They made you a moron
Pizza time!
♪ Potential H-bomb
[Sid] Hey, John, I'm gonna have a tattoo on my head.
Brain damage!
- Get hold of that. - [Laughing]
Don't be such a fucking pervert.
Why can't he puke over the side? That's why we have photographers.
We need an explosion. Where are you going?
Oh, Malkie-Walkie. Give me some money.
Sidney, as a Sex Pistol, all your human needs are seen to.
Food, beer, designer wardrobe. Why do you need money?
Uh, I don't know, little things around the house.
What sort of things? What are those bruises on your arms?
- I fell over. - Look, leave him alone.
Yes, leave me alone. This man is violent!
That's my boy.
That's your camera, number two.
I give you a completely full and free rein.
You dirty fucking bastards. You dirty fucker.
- Oh, what a fucking rotter. - What a naughty, naughty boy.
- Is this your girlfriend? - [Sid] What?
- We both are! - You give us any money for this?
Fucking Dylan.
- Think of a name for my baby. - Bastard.
Good, huh?
Hey, look.
- Look. - That's really cool.
- Hey, where's the key? - What key?
[Laughing]
Your mum says you're a nice boy. Any comment?
Nancy. Not my hair! Bloody hell!
[Singing "Anarchy in the UK"]
♪ I am an AntiChrist
♪ I am an anarchist
♪ Don't know what I want But I know how to get it
♪ I wanna destroy the passer-by
♪ 'Cause I
♪ Wanna be
♪ Anarchy
♪ No dog's body
♪ Anarchy for the UK
♪ It's coming sometime maybe
♪ I give a wrong time Stop a traffic line
♪ Your future dream is a shopping...
I didn't know pigs could swim! [spits]
[Shouting, jeering]
[Crowd singing]
[Shouting]
[Nancy] Mom, guess what?
We got married, me and Sid.
Sid Vicious, you remember, from the Sex Pistols.
[Sid] Hello, Mum. Hello.
[Nancy] What? No, you'll love him too.
[Laughs] Yeah.
So... So, uh, anyway...
Why don't you send us a wedding present for our honeymoon?
[Indistinct chatter on phone]
No, we don't need any sheets.
Why don't you send us some money?
Well, it's early there, right?
So you could go to American Express, like right now, before it closes,
and send us $200. And then Sid could pick it up here tomorrow,
like first thing when they open.
Why not?
I am so married.
I am! What do you mean?
He loves me more than you do!
Yes, I am!
No! Shut up! Listen to me!
If you don't send us some money right now, we're both going to fucking die!
You'd like that, wouldn't you?
Fuck you! I fucking hate them!
I fucking hate them!
Ah! Ow!
Fucking motherfuckers! They wouldn't send us any money.
- They said we'd spend it on drugs. - We would.
[Singing "No Feelings"]
♪ My beautiful self
♪ No feelings
♪ No feelings for anybody else
♪ Hello and goodbye in a runaround Sue
♪ You follow me around like a pretty pot of glue
♪ I kick you in the head You got nothing to say
♪ Get out of my way 'cause I gotta get away
♪ You never realize I take the piss out of you
♪ Come up and see me I'll beat you black and blue
I'm bored. I could be standing over at Lyon's tonight, pulling.
Punks don't go out pulling. They go to fucking boring gigs like this.
- That's what it's all about. - I ain't gonna be a punk no more.
What are you going to be then, Clive? A skinhead? [laughs]
I'm gonna be a rude boy, like my dad.
♪ There ain't no moonlight after midnight
♪ I see you silly people out looking for delight
♪ Well, I'm so happy I'm feeling so fine
♪ I'm watching all the rubbish You're wasting my time
♪ I look around your house You got nothing to steal
♪ I kick you in the brains when you get down to kneel
♪ And pray
Phoebe, how would you like to supervise our Sidney for a month or two?
- No way. - Go on.
You'd be a good influence on the boy. Why not?
Infectious hepatitis, loony girlfriend, drugs.
- Boys will be boys. - It's time he went back to his mum's.
♪ Your daddy's gone away Be back another day
♪ See his picture hanging on your wall ♪
[cheering]
Fuck it. Fuck it.
- What? What's the matter? - Fuck it.
I can't find it. My action man.
You mean GI Joe?
I had it in my hand five minutes ago.
I've had it since I was a kid. It's very valuable.
- I want to kill! - Wait! Flying in.
- Telly Savalas. - Ah!
Oh, no! Ah, he's drowning. I tried to save him, but it's too late.
[Crashing]
I used to have a special hair Barbie.
- You mean Cindy, Nancy. - No, I mean Barbie, Sidney.
I'll never look like Barbie. Barbie doesn't have bruises.
Sid, look at this. I look disgusting.
Look, Nancy, why don't you do these dishes. Please, eh?
What? What did you say to me?
- Fuck it. I'll do them myself. - Good.
What's the matter, Sid? You do a little speed or something?
No. I only had a little bit of good coke.
I was bored. I'm bored now. Where's the bloody soap?
- Up your ass. - [Blows raspberry]
Oh! I better cover this up before somebody sees it.
Shit! Christ!
Look, my mum's gonna be home, so stop mucking about.
- Oh, what's the difference? - Well, it's the least I can do,
with her risking her life every day as a motorcycle messenger.
Oh, God. If you were earning half of what you're worth,
you could buy your mum a fucking Harley. You prick.
Shut your fucking mouth!
If it weren't for me mum's kindness, we'd be on the fucking streets!
Yeah, and if it weren't for your own stupidity,
we'd be living in our own apartment in Paris, France.
- Get off the fucking bed! - No!
Look at this shit. Can you believe this?
OK, stop it. Come on, we've had the fun.
Take that off. It's my mummy's. Look, it'll tear.
- Oh, I thought it was yours. - Ow!
- [Nancy] Fuck you! - Piss off when the going gets tough.
- Bullshit. - Don't be on me fuckin' mother!
- Fuck you both! - All right, Mum?
- You love her more than me. - Yeah, I fucking do and all.
Fucking mother's boy! You asshole!
- Ah! Sid! Sid! - What?
Look at me! I look like fucking Stevie Nicks in hippy clothes!
No, you look nice. You look nice.
No! Yuck!
Ow! Help me! [screaming]
[Linda] Hello, John. What are you doing up so early in the afternoon?
- I've come to see my best mate. - He's in his boudoir.
Is he out of it?
Eh, Linda, you know you've got a man hanging from your ceiling.
Oh, don't mind him. He's one of my customers, Edward.
Just abuse him now and again and he'll be as good as gold.
Don't hurt me. For God's sake, don't hurt me.
I'll do anything you want, but I implore you not to hurt me, please.
[Gasps]
[John] Sidney, wakey-wakey.
Sid, wake up, dear.
- Sidney, wake up. - Fuck off, John.
I'm sorry I kicked you, Sidney. It was an accident.
[Nancy] Leave us alone.
Look, I've got two tickets for Rock Head at the Rainbow.
It'll do you good to go and see him. I hear he's cleaned up his act.
Don't do any drugs or drink, hardly.
- And he's all the better for it. - I know Rock Head.
I bet you do.
- Rock Head's got the best drugs. - Let's go see Rock Head.
Here, John, mate. Make us a cup of tea.
[Laughing] Your face.
I don't even want to be here.
Whoo! Whoo!
Yes, madam.
- The Sex Pistols for Mr. Head. - What a fucking palace.
- I wish I lived here. - Mr. Head's room, please.
[Nancy] Rock!
Rock, you big head!
- Hi, uh... Peggy, ain't it? - Nancy.
And this is Sid Vicious and Johnny. They're from the Sex Pistols.
- Impress them with your drugs. - [Glass shattering]
Drugs? Do we have any drugs, boys?
- Rock Head does not do drugs. - Right.
Don't be so fucking stingy.
Pull out the drawer, we'll have a Bible reading.
Give me five pounds.
Uh, look, uh, you want some water?
Uh, I've got some with bubbles in it.
How about some room service, Mr. Head? Fuck off.
Ah, Jennifer, ring for the cart.
[Nancy] Fuck him, Sidney. His drugs were garbage anyway.
They were not!
- Lend us five pounds. - Hello, room service?
So... it appears we are related.
- [Belches] Eh? - The press.
They call me the "big daddy of punk." Your role model.
Lovely couple.
[John] Fuck you, Rock Head.
What the fuck are you doing here anyway?
I'd rather fucking puke! [belches]
[Glass shatters]
[Paul] For Christ's sake, Malcolm. We're not great shakes,
but the bass player has to keep the beat.
We have to turn his amp off half the time.
He'll be playing one thing, we'll be playing a fucking 'nother.
I sympathize. But Sidney's more than a mere bass player.
He's a fabulous disaster. He's a symbol, a metaphor.
[Phone rings]
He embodies the dementia of a nihilistic generation. He's a fucking star.
- [John] He's a fucking head case. - Shut up.
[Malcolm] Phoebe!
- [John] You talk some shit. - [Malcolm] Half my charm, sugar.
Yeah.
[Malcolm] Sidney's not the problem. The problem...
It's Spungen.
She wants you to book 'em a suite at... Where?
- [Paul] I want a suite as well. - Rock Head's hotel?
They can't stay here much longer.
The police were around here yesterday. Arrests were made.
Substances confiscated. They've even been hanging out of the windows.
- What rubbish! - This is a respectable hotel, madam.
Lillie Langtry stayed here.
[Punk music plays]
Baby!
Hi!
Sid! Sid, we've got company!
Will you cut me down? Let me up. [screams]
[Phoebe] Sid! Nancy!
Sid!
- Oh! - Ah!
- [Nancy] Stay where you are! - [Sid] Stay where you are. I'm loaded.
- Are you all right, Nancy? - Oh, yeah, we're just having fun.
It's Lurch.
You want a cup of tea? Get us a cup of tea.
- Four sugars, you cunt. - We have no roof service.
- You're dead. - [Phoebe] We ain't got time for tea.
He's got to practice. He's got a tour coming up.
No. I don't want to go. I want to stay here
- and have a really good screw. - Sid. Sid.
Four words: No women on the tour.
[Phoebe] That's five words.
[Nancy] No way, Malcolm. No fucking way.
Yeah, right. There's no way.
[Phoebe] Look, it's purely financial. We can't afford an entourage.
I'm not an entourage!
[Phoebe] I know what you're feeling. I know how important your relationship is.
But if you two want to stay together, we'll find another bass player.
Sid Vicious is the Sex Pistols.
[John] Bollocks.
Oh, yeah, that's right. You can't leave me behind.
Paul wouldn't stand for it. We're the rhythm section.
Paul.
Look, it's only a month. You can live that long without each other, can't you?
[Laughter] And, if you do survive,
I have been talking to the record company,
and they're going to buy you a little house.
Ah, how lovely for you.
- You think I'm an asshole, don't you? - Yes, I do.
You really think you can buy Sid off of me?
Fuck you.
Take him. I only want what's best for Sidney.
I don't want to go on your fucking tour anyhow.
I've got my own stuff to do.
Paul.
[Belches]
Paul.
[Sid moaning]
- Sid. - [Grunts]
What are you doing?
- Sid. - What?
Stay awake. These are our last two nights together.
- [Sid sighs] - Stay awake.
What for?
So I can talk to you.
So we can fuck some more.
- So we can be together. - [Sighs]
Yes, well, we are together. Come on, give me a break, eh?
No, you give me a break.
I'm the one that's getting left behind.
Kiss my toes.
- Oh, fuck off. - Fuck you!
Fuck this!
Fuck this! Jesus!
Sid, what are you doing? What are you doing?
Stop this! Sid, come back.
I'm going to the airport. Gonna be early for once. Do you know what I mean?
Stop this. I'm sorry. Oh, come on. Come back.
What are you doing?
Sid! Sid, don't be a jerk!
Fuck it, Sid, don't leave!
Sid! What about the farewell drugs?
Sid!
[Sobbing]
Oi! How do you spell "holiday"?
S-H-I-T.
"Dear Mum, having a lovely..."
- ["Holidays in the Sun" playing] - You cunt. [laughs]
♪ I don't wanna holiday in the sun
♪ I wanna go to the new Belsen
♪ I wanna see some history
♪ 'Cause now I got a reasonable economy
♪ Now I got a reason Now I got a reason
♪ Now I got a reason And I'm still waiting
♪ Now I got a reason Now I got a reason
♪ To be waiting
[man] Ah, it's a great tour, John. Great tour, great country.
Ah, it's lovely. It's a pity it's America.
[Man] Did you know I was a songster myself?
- I bet you didn't. - [John] No, I didn't.
[Man] I've written one you might like
because it has a punky, punky sort of feel. You know what I mean?
♪ I want a job, I want a job I want a good job
♪ I want a job, I want a job that pays I want a job, I want a job
♪ I want a real job One that satisfies
♪ My artistic needs
- That's the chorus. - [John] What's it called?
- [Man] It's called "I Want a Job." - [John] Lovely. Sid.
♪ I want a job, I want a job I want a good job
♪ I want a job, I want a job that pays
♪ I want a job, I want a job I want a real job
♪ One that satisfies my artistic needs
- Like it? - It's lovely.
- Do you like it, Sid? - Stupid cunt.
Sid?
["Pretty Vacant" playing]
Drinks for all my Texan friends.
Don't you have any imported beers?
♪ I got no reason It's all too much
♪ You'll always find us
♪ Out to lunch
♪ We're so...
Get off! Get out of here! You asshole!
Get out, you fucking bastard!
I'll fucking kill you. You fucking wankers!
♪ We're vacant, don't ask us to attend 'Cause we're not all there
♪ I don't pretend, 'cause I don't care
Fuck off!
[Man] Hey, Sid.
- He sure can't fight for shit. - He likes it.
[Coughing]
You all right? You all right?
[Gunshot]
[Ringing]
You've been a naughty, naughty newsreader.
And now you're gonna have to pay.
Hello, Nancy. It's Sid.
Sid, where are you?
I'm in America.
Oh, God, I can't believe you called.
I thought you'd hate me forever.
I've really been going really crazy for you. I miss you so much.
- I miss you, too. - Yeah.
- Well, how's America? - Fucking boring.
Listen, I'm sorry about the fight, babe.
Me too. I never want to fight with you again.
- I love you. - I love you, too.
Yeah? [laughs]
- Did you buy me any presents yet? - Yeah, I've bought you loads.
Oh, yeah, what?
I bought you a six pack and a bra in the same shop.
Listen. I wish you were here.
I wish I was there too, I really do. I love you.
I love you too. I love ya!
I've got to go. I can't really talk right now. Linda's got a customer.
- Listen... - [Linda] Nancy.
Sid, I've got to go. We're working.
- I wish we could have a bunk-up. - Oh, I wish we could too.
- I'm here, and you're there. - [Linda] Nancy!
I know I'm here, but I want it off with you.
Look, Sidney, what am I supposed to do? Put it in a box and send it?
[Linda] Nancy!
Look, you'll just have to have sex with somebody else.
Hello, what? Fucking hell.
Fuck it!
Fucking poxy place.
[Shouting indistinctly]
Right, who's gonna fuck me, then?
[Country music plays]
- [Man] Is this Johnny Rotten? - [Sid] No, I've only used it twice.
Oh, yes, yes. Very funny.
The naïve wit of imbeciles has always enchanted me.
Why don't you shut up and fucking sing, you twat?
- [Malcolm] We're out of time. - Bollocks, you wanker!
Fucking play the song, will you?
Do you ever get the feeling you're being cheated?
- [Crowd shouting] - One, two, three, four.
[Intro to "Problems" playing]
♪ Too many problems Oh, why am I here?
♪ I don't need to be me 'cause you're all too clear
♪ Well, I can see there's something wrong with you
♪ But what do you expect me to do?
- Fuck off! - ♪ Problem
♪ Problem
The problem is you
[man over radio] That's what they said on stage.
They were so terrible, they only did five songs.
[Coughing]
- Oh! - Welcome Sex Pistols.
Fools.
You coming to the party then?
No, I don't think so. I don't feel too good.
Fucking typical.
- [Man] Hey, Sid. - All right?
[Woman] Rio is so lovely at this time of year.
- Will you be staying for Carnival? - [John] Tell that woman to shut up.
- [Steve] Tell her yourself, you twerp. - [John] You.
- I'm not a fucking twerp. - Oh, shut it.
Just shut the fuck up, all of you!
It's about time somebody came out into the open.
- I want to leave the band. - Yeah. I do as well.
Oh, fine. Fine. The side men split. Goodbye!
Yeah, well, why don't you take him with you? Cunts.
You're not leaving me with useless, are you?
- He's your friend, John. - No, thank you, Steve.
- Fuck off. - You fuck off!
- [Sid] I wish we wasn't breaking up. - [Phoebe] It's a bit late for that.
Malcolm's in London. Paul and Steve are flying to Rio. John's in New York.
Oh, great. What am I going to do?
Anything you like. You're a free agent now.
I want to go home... to see Nancy.
Yeah, well, do that.
[Sid] Master of kung fu.
[Phoebe] Look, try and get off heroin, eh.
- Come on, promise. - OK.
And cut down on the drinking as well, eh.
All right. I promise.
Cross me heart and hope to die.
Your double brandy, sir.
[Rock music plays]
[Man on radio] Pop star, Sid Vicious, landed unexpectedly at LaGuardia Airport
and was rushed to a nearby hospital.
A spokesman for his record company
said Vicious was suffering from "nervous exhaustion."
A hippy! Sid, a French hippy!
[Sid] Dear Mum, guess where your Simon's turned up?
Since you can't guess, I will tell you.
[Nancy] Paris. In the spring.
Sid's recording here, and he's brilliant. We go shopping every day.
Sid bought me lots of underwear, and it's all French.
You would love it here. Lots of love from Nancy and Sid.
Sidney, long time no see. Hugh Kares. We met at Troft's. You remember.
- No, he doesn't. Sid! - This is my girlfriend, Nancy.
- Hi, Nancy. - Sidney, let's go.
Let's take lunch. You know, we'll go to La...
Get yourself a chair and sit down. Shut up!
Everything's crazy for me right now.
But Sid, I always got time for you, babe.
- [Vomiting] - Oh! Jesus Christ!
Get it out, get it out, Sidney. That's all right. That's all right.
Oh, dude. Get it all out. Come on. Oh, Jesus.
- When you're feeling better. - [Nancy] He's fine.
- You're making him sick. - When you're better.
Let's go. Fuck him. We'll leave him with the check.
You're gonna make somebody a lot of money, Sidney.
[Honking]
- [Slow lounge music playing] - ♪ And now the end is near
♪ And so I face
♪ The final curtain [laughs]
♪ You cunt I'm not a queer
♪ I'll state my case
♪ Of which I'm certain
♪ I've lived
♪ A life that's full
♪ And each
♪ And every highway
♪ And, yet, much more than this
♪ I did it my way
[punk beat playing]
♪ Regrets
♪ I've had a few
♪ But then again
♪ Too few to mention
♪ I did
♪ What I had to do
♪ I saw it through
♪ Without exemption
♪ I planned
♪ Each chartered course
♪ Each careful step
♪ Along the highway
♪ And more
♪ Much more than this
♪ I did it my way
♪ There were times
♪ I'm sure you knew
♪ When there was fuck
♪ Fuck, fuck all else to do
♪ But through it all When there was doubt
♪ I shot it up
♪ Or kicked it down
♪ I faced the all and the world
♪ And did it my way
♪ I've laughed
♪ And been a snide
♪ I've had my fill My share of losing
♪ And now
♪ The tears subside
♪ I find it all
♪ So amusing
♪ To think
♪ I killed a cat
♪ And may I say
♪ Not in a gay way
♪ Oh, no
♪ No, not me
♪ I did it my way ♪
It seems like all my friends are dead.
When I'm dead, will you be sad?
I couldn't live without you.
You couldn't?
We'd better go together then.
How should we do it?
We could...
...jump off a building.
Throw ourselves under a subway.
OD.
If I asked you to kill me...
...would you?
Well, what would I do?
I couldn't live without you.
- You'd kill yourself too then? - Yes. Yeah.
[Sniffs, sighs]
[Nancy sobs] I hate this fucking life.
This is just a rough patch.
Things will be much better when we get to America. I promise.
We're in America.
We've been here a week. New York is in America,
- you fuck. - [Sighs]
- Get away. A week? - Yeah. What day is it?
Shit! Is it Tuesday or Wednesday?
We're supposed to be at Grandma and Grandpa's on Wednesday.
Where's my fucking book? Shit!
[Traffic noise]
[Sirens wailing]
No! Look! There's the Rollerama.
Sid! I won a rollerskating trophy there when I was six years old.
- Nancy, don't fib. - Fuck you, Grandma. Oh!
- No! [laughing] - [Honking]
[Sid] This place is a fucking paradise.
You guys got to come see us in New York when I get Sid some gigs.
- [Boy] Can't he cut his own meat? - They really want him at Max's,
but they're too cheap. They only want to pay him three grand.
He's worth five at least.
- Sid's a really big star in New York. - We both are.
[Laughs] Yeah.
Yeah, I mean, we barely have any time to ourselves.
We don't have time to get to the methadone clinic.
We've only got enough for two days. Grandma, can I borrow the car?
I want to teach Sid how to drive American.
How come Nancy gets to borrow Grandma's car and I don't?
She the one that got fucked up and wrecked it.
- Chipper! - [Nancy] What do you know, crater face?
Fucking twerp. Too bad about your brothers, Mary Jane.
Still taking idiot lessons?
So are you gonna make an honest woman out of our Nancy, Sid?
Well, she's... She's always been honest to me, Grandpa, sir.
She's never lied to me.
But, uh, what are your, uh, intentions?
Well, first off, we're gonna go down the methadone clinic on Monday.
And then, uh, Nancy's gonna get me some gigs.
Then we're gonna go off and, uh, live, like, live in Paris.
And, uh, just sort of go out in a blaze of glory.
But don't worry. No, you'll be proud of us.
So why don't we go down to the rec room?
[Sid and Nancy] ♪ Fuck this and fuck that
♪ Fucking all the fucking prat
♪ I don't want a baby who looks like that
♪ She don't want a baby that looks like Chipper
♪ I'm not an animal
That's good. That's an old one.
So, what else should we do, huh?
I don't want to do anymore. I'm tired. I want to go noddy blinkums.
Whose bedroom are we sleeping in?
Well, actually dear, you're not staying here.
We thought it would be fun for you to stay downtown. At the Sunshine Inn.
No. What about French toast and blintzes?
You don't want to come back here for breakfast. Your bus leaves at 9:17.
I thought we're staying another day.
Well, Grandpa and I must have misunderstood.
See, we're, uh, we're going out of town tomorrow.
The whole family is going out of town.
- I didn't know we were going anywhere. - Be quiet.
Shut up, Chipper.
- Oh, that's all right. Can we come? - No, Nancy. You just can't.
Well, will you at least drive us to the motel?
Of course.
We'll give you money for a taxi for tomorrow.
You'll get to the bus in plenty of time.
Darling, it was lovely to see you. Here.
Sid.
What?
[Sid] Those people were really lovely.
- Best fucking food I ever ate. - [TV playing]
So why did they throw us out?
[Sighs]
'Cause they know me.
[Music plays on TV]
Can you move your foot?
[Sirens wailing]
- You know about the Golden Triangle? - Yeah.
That's where the heroin comes from.
Heard about it when I was in the 'Nam.
- You've heard of Vietnam, right? - Yeah.
Yeah, uh-huh.
Yeah, while us guys was fighting, dying and getting all fucked up,
the CIA was flying the shit out of there and into here, with our planes.
Know who paid for that shit?
We did.
That is, the government.
You know why?
Because smack is the great controller.
It keeps the people stupid, when they could be smart.
- What's he on about? - Some bullshit politics.
You guys got no right to be strung out on that stuff!
You could be selling healthy anarchy.
But long as you're addicts, you be full of shit.
[Nancy] Come on, Vito. Don't be such a jerk.
I don't know how many people want to see Vicious on his own.
- Are you kidding? Sid Vicious... - He's not gonna be on his own.
He's gonna have a great fucking back-up band behind him.
- Yeah? Who? - Yeah.
Who? Lggy, Dee Dee, Chrissie, Debbie.
Debbie Harry's singing backup.
It's true. Johnny Thunders, Joe Strummer...
I love you, Nancy. You're a fucking nutcase.
I'm running a business. Do you really think he can pull this off?
- Yes. - Can he play?
He can! Shit. He practices all the time, right?
Vito, come on, please, give us a gig.
Do you want me to fuck you?
No, and you shouldn't offer. It's not professional.
[Phone rings]
All right. I'll give you three grand for three gigs.
- All right! Deal. - Deal.
[Playing guitar]
Sid! Sid! Hey, Max.
Sid. Sid, guess what?
Sid, I did it! I got you three gigs at Max's.
At least three. Maybe more. Aren't you excited?
- Yeah. - What? Sid.
What? What's going on?
- We're just jamming, you know. - Yeah, and watching Trigger.
What... what is this?
- Sid. Did you give him this? - Fucking come on, Nancy.
I just came here to jam, all right? Just be cool.
Don't tell me to be cool. Sid! Sid! We had a deal.
We said we weren't gonna do anymore smack until after the gig.
You asshole! You fucking jerk! Shit!
I can't trust you as far as I can fucking throw you!
We had a deal. We said we weren't going to do any smack until after the gig,
and you don't even save me any, you fuckhead!
Shit! You asshole! Motherfucking jerk! Ow!
Sid!
Sid, you're the fuckhead!
Hey, what the fuck is going on?
Oh, shit. Is he all right?
No, he's a fucking asshole junkie. Fuckhead.
- Don't fucking kick him. - You're gonna love this place.
A lot of great artists stay here. I want you to stay a long time.
Let's take him to my room. Come on.
It's a couple of my foreign exchange students.
Why don't we just get to the elevator, OK? We'll take the elevator.
[Sid] This next number is for all you sensitive people out there.
All you young lovers.
[Counts in German]
♪ Hey, look at here
♪ Here she comes
♪ Here comes that girl again
♪ One of the cutest since I don't know when
♪ But she don't notice me when I pass
♪ She goes with all the guys from outta my class
♪ But that didn't stop me from thinkin' to myself
♪ She's sure fine-looking, man She's something else
♪ Hey, look at here
♪ Across the street
♪ There's a car built just for me
♪ To own a car would be a luxury
♪ But right now I can't afford the gas
♪ A brand-new convertible is out of my class
♪ But that didn't stop me from thinkin' to myself
♪ That car's fine-looking, man That's something else
♪ Hey, look at here
♪ Just wait and see
- ♪ Worked and saved my dough - Hey, Nancy.
- What? - Do you want a kitty?
♪ Get me the girl we go ridin' around
♪ We're lookin' real good with the wide top down
♪ I keep right on dreamin' and thinkin' to myself
♪ When it all comes true, man Wow, that's something else
- ♪ Hey, look at here - He likes me!
♪ Never thought I'd do this before
♪ But here I am a-knockin' on her door
♪ My car's out front, and it's all mine
♪ It's a '41 job, not a '59
♪ I got that girl and I'm thinkin' to myself
♪ She's sure fine-looking, man Wow, she's something else ♪
[cheering]
[Sid] Do you like that one?
Do you want to hear "My Way," assholes?
- Well, I've forgotten it. - [Cheering]
[Nancy] You were fucking great, Sid. You were so fucking good.
I don't know about that. Most of the people there,
were screaming for John and throwing drugs and shit at me.
That's just 'cause they love you, man. They're your fans.
We'd sound a lot better if we rehearsed.
Sid doesn't need to rehearse. He's a natural.
- Natural fuck-up. - Get it together.
- You just got to learn the words. - Words. It's not words.
It's just those bridge and tunnel geeks don't appreciate his style.
"My Way."
Sid, don't go getting down on yourself.
If we worked harder, you know.
- Oh, what do you know? - Hey, Nancy, be cool, all right?
- I'm just trying to help Sid out. - Everybody likes Sid.
- Nobody likes the shit you do. - [Man] Nancy, be cool.
Don't worry. People will be into my stuff around '85, '86.
[Nancy] You're lucky to be in Sid's band. You all are.
- Nancy, be cool. - [Nancy] Fuck you! God.
Shut the fuck up. Everything was fine. It was going really well.
We don't fucking deserve this, asshole!
Yeah, well, I'll see you at rehearsals then.
Hey, Sid, we saw your show at Max's.
Right. What'd you think of it?
[All] You suck.
Oh, Sid, those guys are full of shit. What do they know?
I know what's best for you. That's why I'm your manager.
Learn the fucking words! You don't need to know the fucking words.
He doesn't need words. Just make them up like you did on "My Way," huh?
I wish we had some more coke.
[Indistinct chattering]
Sid.
- Sid. - Hmm?
I must have been dreaming.
I thought we had this little dog.
It was really little, and we loved it.
But then it got sick, and it was dead.
- [Sid moans] - Yeah.
It was dead, and we loved it.
And we didn't know where to bury it in New York.
We wanted to keep it, so we ate it.
- [Sid moans] - [Knocking on door]
[Max] Hey, Sid.
Sid, get up, man, we got a gig. Come on, let's go.
You're seriously fucking up, man. Come on! Get up!
- [Knocking] - Get your ass up, come on.
Sid! Get your ass up, man. We've got an important gig. Let's go.
Sid! Sid, get your ass up. Come on.
Vicious!
Vicious, let's go!
♪ So messed up I want you here
♪ In my room I want you here
♪ Now we're gonna be face-to-face
♪ And I'll lay down in my favorite place
♪ Now I wanna be your dog
- [crashing] - ♪ Now I wanna be your dog
[TV playing indistinctly]
They're all empty.
Just little paper squares. Fuck.
- Where are you going? - To get some more.
How do you facilitate this communication, Johnny?
About whatever... whatever we think is relevant at the time.
- And what is relevant to you right now? - Not very much really, Snidey.
Gretchen. Girl, what?
- Supposed to go into that building. - That building?
- Where is the money? Give us the money. - Where is the money?
- I want that money, kid. - Oi!
- I want it. - Oi, cut it out. Let him go.
- He owes us three bucks, man. - I don't care, leave him alone.
Who the hell do you think you are?
Sid Vicious.
[Gretchen] That was good.
[TV playing]
When was the last time we fucked?
I can't remember.
Miss it?
We can if you want to.
No.
Just give me a kiss.
[Coughing]
Fuck. My fucking bones hurt.
[Coughing]
[Indistinct chattering]
Ah!
Sid! Nance! What's going on?
Excuse me, man, this is Sid Vicious here.
Very nice. What do you have? Put it in there.
It's none of my business, man,
but I don't know why you hang with this chick.
Fucking junk hog, let's face it.
On top of that, she's always getting down on you,
bitching at you, complaining, shit.
She's all right. She don't mean it.
She ought to have more respect for you.
If I had a girlfriend, she'd show me some respect. Believe it.
What are you talking about? Respect. You don't know her.
She's got me these gigs at Max's. We're both getting off the H.
Smart move, smart move. It's my turn.
Yeah, maybe.
Don't get me wrong, Sid.
Nancy's great, I love her. You know what I'm saying.
Did I leave a lot of money around here?
I left a fucking wad of money someplace. I thought I might have left it here.
No?
Can I have a little bit of this for later?
Look, Sid, it's not much.
Ow!
Do you have any idea who has stayed here before you? Dylan Thomas... Excuse me.
...Thomas Wolfe, Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams.
This is not a place where people set fire to their rooms.
The Chelsea Hotel is a landmark.
It's an historic part of the city of New York.
[Child] I want shopping. I want shopping.
Shopping! I want shopping!
Shopping!
I'm putting you in room 100. On the first floor.
You won't have to wait for the elevator.
Look at that, the door's open. [Chuckles]
Wait a second! Excuse me. Where are you going with that lamp?
This is our lamp.
You cannot move furniture from room to room. I forget where the fixtures are.
- It's our lamp. We bought it. - Where's the TV?
There's no TV?
There's no TV!
Do me a favor? Go up to your old room,
take the television set and bring it down.
He wants you to like this room.
Bob Dylan was born here.
[Gretchen] I haven't got anything, just my wakeup shot.
Nobody's holding downtown.
Bowery said he'd meet us here.
[Gretchen] You still buying off Bowery?
I heard he sold someone a paper and they died.
That's fucking bullshit.
- You guys still fighting, Nance? - He's real depressed.
- Yeah. Jimmy's real depressed too. - Come on!
- He broke three of my ribs. - [Pounding on glass]
We're being so stupid, Nance. We should just leave them.
Yeah, sure, love kills. See ya.
- Hey, Sid. - How you doing, all right?
- Got any gear? - Tickets to see Bruce Springsteen.
I don't want fucking tickets for fucking Bruce Springsteen.
- Fuck off and get me some smack. - Just for that, you ain't going!
- Shit! - Sid. Sid, look at these.
We need these.
Oh, but I don't have any money.
- Sid, where'd you put it? - I can't remember.
- You did it without me. - Oh, come on.
If I only had enough for one of us, I'd give it all to you.
Liar!
Ah, fuck!
Fuck it. Poxy fucking thing!
- Fuck it! - You hate me.
I don't. I don't.
[Groaning]
Oh, God.
Oh...
I wish I was fucking dead.
Oh, shut up. Please. Keep going on about it.
[Sniffs] I got more reasons to be depressed than you.
You're much better off than I am.
Why?
At least you used to be something.
I've never been anything.
[Keys rattling]
[Nancy] Is it Bowery?
No, it's that dwarf.
It's not a dwarf, Sid, it's a little boy.
What would you know? Little kids don't dress like that.
- Oh, fuck you! - And fuck you, too!
I'm sorry.
I wish we had something to hit as well.
- [Cat meows] - I wish we could get out of here.
[Bowery] Sid! Nance! Pull up your pants.
- Yo! - [Nancy] Bowery.
- [Sid] What you got? - Not much.
You guys got any soda around here?
[Nancy] Oh, come on. Don't fuck around. We've got the cash.
Everybody's got the cash. But nobody's holding.
I've been up and down this island twice today. Been all the way to Brooklyn.
Hate that fucking town.
I've been reading this book. Seen it?
[Nancy] Oh, come on. Just get us straight, you shithole.
Sorry. I can't hear you. What were saying?
- I said you were a fucking slimehole. - Don't talk to me,
- you stupid little slut. - Oi! Oi!
I don't need to hear your crap. Give us what you've got or piss off.
Hey, right, easy, easy. You want to know what I got? Here. Have a look.
- Here we go, something for you. - Fucking...
Don't get up, Sid. I was just leaving, man.
- No, wait. - Fuck you, Nancy! You people are rude!
- [Nancy] I'm sorry. - What's that?
I'm sorry.
Better.
You two gotta watch your step, you know. The buzz is out on you.
- What's this, Tuinals. - Yeah, what's this?
- Speed. - Sulfate?
- You want some of this? - Yeah.
I never touch that stuff, man. It makes me paranoid.
You guys are outside, man. If you shoot that stuff it's gonna make you sick.
- What about the Dilaudid? - I tried.
Couldn't get a hold of the guy. You got a phone? I'll try again.
Yeah, it's in the lobby.
The phone is in the lobby. Right.
[Sighs] No promises...
...but for my famous friends, I'll go the extra mile.
You guys aren't going anywhere, are you?
My eyes hurt.
The TV's so bright, it hurts my eyes.
[Sid] Oh, fuck it.
This bloke, he was sort of blinking at them, you know.
And well, he died, I suppose, or something. I can't remember.
Shut up.
Listen.
What?
- I can't hear nothing. - No.
Listen to me.
- I don't want to. - Why not?
I don't know. I just don't.
What are you waiting for?
Bowery?
Huh, Bowery doesn't fucking matter.
What does?
You.
And?
You.
- I'm just not going to, OK? - You have to. You promised.
Yeah, well, I changed me mind.
You can't! You can't change your mind! We said we'd go out together.
- You can't change your mind! - Of course I can. I just did. I did!
No! Blaze of glory!
You promised! You promised!
I'm getting out of this poxy place, back to England.
No! Why?
I want to get straight, you know?
I'm sick and tired of all these fucking people that just kiss ass!
I want to get back to my friends. People who care.
Go on, just leave me!
You're always putting fucking words in my mouth.
Did I say I would fucking leave you? No, I did not!
- I'm your best friend, Sid! - So you keep fucking telling me!
And you'll never get straight!
You'll never get straight, Sid! You say that every fucking day.
It's the same. I can't get up tomorrow to the same thing.
I can't do it anymore.
Oh, God, please help me. Please, you promised.
You're so full of shit. You're so fucking blind.
No, I'm not. I'm not blind. I see everything.
- Where are you going? - The off-license.
No. No. It's 5:00 in the morning. There's nothing out there.
Get out my fucking way.
Fuck you, Sid! You're so stupid! You're so fucking weak!
Help me! Please, you're so fucking weak and stupid!
Help me! Help me!
I can't! Fuck off!
Fucking hell, will you get off!
- You want to fucking die? - Yes!
- Well, fucking die! - Ow!
Fuck you! Ah! [sobbing]
I feel sick.
[Both panting]
Help me.
Oh, Sid.
I don't feel so good.
[Grunts]
Sid!
Sid...
[Bowery] You guys awake? Got something here for you!
Check it out, man.
Uh, Sid, this is a serious fuck-up, man.
Sid!
I've got to take off, man, bad scene.
Who called 911?
Did you call 911?
- [Reporters clamoring] - Fuck off!
- I'll smash your fucking cameras! - Back off.
- All these people, back! - Why'd you do it?
[Man] One word. Why'd you do it?
[Sobbing]
[Rattling]
- [Man] Is that him? - [Man 2] Yeah, that's him, Sid Vicious.
One candy bar. One pack of cigarettes.
Look, kid, you're out on bail again, right?
- One safety pin. - Give yourself a break.
- One stick of gum. - I know you think you're kind of tough.
There's a lot of guys out there a lot tougher.
You know, you can walk out that door and you can stay out for good.
Sixty-seven cents.
- Or you turn around and walk back in. - $540 in cash.
- Sign here, please. - You know, it's all up to you, Ritchie.
I don't see any braces on your legs.
[Indistinct chatter]
Oh, yeah, one more thing.
- Sure, kid, what is it? - Where can I get a pizza?
["Get Down Tonight" playing on radio]
♪ Where we can get together
♪ And ease up our mind
♪ Do a little dance make a little love
♪ Get down tonight
♪ Do a little dance make a little love
♪ Get down tonight
♪ Get down tonight, baby ♪
Yo, Sid, you wanna dance with us?
No, I won't dance with no little kids.
Why don't you stop being stuck up?
Yeah, man, come on. Stop being so stuck up.
Yeah. Whoo! Kissing!
Yo, Sid, you don't even know her, what you doing?
Need some help with that?
["Love Kills" playing]
♪ Walking out of England thinking
♪ You were the king taking on this world
♪ On that bus that goes through Mexico
♪ A killer often finds a sweet Mexican girl
♪ But in Mississippi we rushed into the room
♪ Down in Dixie you were crying for dope
♪ Down in Alabama they like home-cooked fare, yeah
♪ So we're gonna strap you to the fryin' chair
♪ But I don't know what love is
♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?
♪ But if my hands are the color of blood
♪ Baby, I can tell
♪ Sure, I can tell that love kills
♪ Love kills
♪ Do you want to hear the sirens
♪ The sirens of the city drown the arguing?
♪ We're on Riker's Island on a population board
♪ They don't care about your fame
♪ But I don't know what love is
♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?
♪ But if my hands are the color of blood
♪ Baby, I can tell you
♪ Sure, I can tell you love kills
♪ Love kills
♪ On the Rio Grande they'll tie you to a tree
♪ Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!
♪ And you can't call your lawyers
♪ 'Cause the whorehouse is asleep
♪ Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!
♪ People will get weak
♪ Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!
♪ They'll throw you in a cell where you can barely breathe
♪ Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!
♪ But I don't know what love is
♪ Is there something else giving me the chills?
♪ But if my hands are the color of blood
♪ Baby, I can tell you
♪ Sure, I can tell you love kills
♪ Love kills
♪ Love kills ♪