Apparently, the warden wants me to be fucking decent to an authority figure. So.
SAM TYLER. Yup, you win the lottery. Mr DCI whateverthefuck. You're from Manchester, right? Where abouts? How d'you like that? City or United? and don't worry, I'm neither so you ain't gonna get your head smashed in.
[Filtered to Wardens]Two things. First's a little
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What d'you do?
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[Private]
I think you already know about myself, Paddy.
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[Private]
Too right I do. You never went down for any of it. You sorta... operated outside of society. Your answer ain't gonna help.
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I kinda want to know how you get back from them, how you drag yourself out of criminality, y'know. So if you think you can answer that from experience, go for it. I don't want any lah-dee-dah rehabilitative justice bullshit from someone who don't know it.
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Really, that's all I have. Sorry.
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So what d'you do?
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But thanks for looking out for him. I appreciate it.
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No problem, mate.
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[Private]
I don't suppose you know, ah, what-all happened to him, during the flood? I mean, I've got a few hunches, but he's been pretty close-mouthed about the entire experience.
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Like he said he 'needed to do this' - now, I dunno, mate, maybe this is my experience with drugs talking, but that's an ominous fucking sentence from anyone.
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