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I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down, and then I'll be gone back into the darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack.
I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down, and then I'll be gone back into the darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack.
As they say, truth is stranger than fiction. Rich, on the other hand, is stranger than both.
The spirits aren't so different from anyone else. They see what they want to see.
You just about blew up the north of England, you stupid bastards! The missiles! Did you touch them?
What is it with you people? Do I have some kind of sign on me back, "Walking Sperm Bank - Withdrawals Welcome"? Is that it?
Jesus, this is serious. No wonder I've been hiding from it. Murder, it's got a pulse all its own -- slow, cold electricity. If it comes down to it, Constantine -- do you really think you can do it?
He's killed him, Chas. The bastard's done my dad. I should've thought. He always goes after families. If he gets me he'll kill Cheryl and the kid. I've got to get ahead of him.
Executioners are always volunteers. They do it because they want to.
C'mon, Dad, cut this out, eh? I'm sorry, but it's done now. It's over. You're dead and cremated, mate. You're free -- you don't have to stay here anymore. Anyway, why take it out on the girl. If you want to haunt someone, haunt me. Where's your sense of humor, Pop? All sons kill their fathers, don't they say?
Can't do it, can you? You're pre-programmed, mate! So long as I do this, your instincts won't let you touch me! But of course, I'm not a dog... am I? So I can cheat.
Don't try to catch me, Marj. I'll drag you down. Don't trust me. Don't let me taint you. Hah hah! It's a disease, you see. Riddled with it, I am -- caught it from something I dug up as a kid.
It's the awful, lonely secret of the dead-boy's heart-- and you must keep it to your grave. But the very worst thing is -- once you know it -- you're a Bogeyman too.
You need a broader experience to understand what makes people who they are -- how the patterns of the past inform the future.
Strewth, Chap -- Looks like you need a steak' for that shiner.
Yes, it's the truth. Incontrovertible -- you know it is. You killed him, murdered him in your dead mother's womb. You killed the Golden Boy, the Magus -- Killed the best part of yourself. You're as guilty as original sin. Condemned and hanged for it -- over and over again.
I think I'm going round the twist. For a second there I almost had meself believing 'em. This bloody place must be getting to me. It's so real, it's unreal.
I've had enough of this, Marston. Either you tell me what you want me for right now, or I send you straight to Hell. What's it to be?
It'll be bloody lethal if we screw it up. We'll end up with our bollocks ripped off. Make no mistake about it.
You're talking about putting the thing that used to be Jack the Ripper in charge of us? The bastard eats people, you headcase!
This place -- they're desecrating the bodies and it's buggering up the souls. They can't get into the Afterlife. They're stuck.
And now she's got a bun in the oven, eh? Don't they have rubbers in Heaven?
Shit...! Forgot to give him the finger.
I can hear the old days calling... Some of the shit I got off with last year, it's like '83 all over again. Out of the shadows and "all right, squire? Trust me." And gone before you know it. Christ, that was a laugh... So I remind myself it wasn't, it was dead mates and lost souls and cold nights with the bottle while the ghosts howeld round the door... and now it's different anyway. Kit... And saying her name makes me more determined. And I almost believe my own bullshit.
Nice one, Schwarzenegger. Been giving it a bit extra on the five-knuckle shuffle, have we?
Stop... bloody... 'membrin'...
And I drink. It tastes of evil, hatred, spite, cruelty, sadism. It tastes of screwing the other bastard good and proper... It tastes of winning... And I drain it to the last frigging drop.
You never gave up. You knew the precious thing you had, and you scraped and clawed and fought to the last drop of blood for life-- And I think I owe you something, mate.
There aren't any good guys, and there aren't any bad guys. There's just us. People. Doing our best to get by.
You'd better stay here, Danny... 'Cos if you try to get out of this house tonight, I'll kill you.
C'mon then, you maggoty piece of Hell meat! Eat me! I'll bloody choke you!
Guilt is the province of the living!
When it comes to arrogant parasites, I've got a short fuse. So look out, suckers, here comes the revolution!
I'm the one who steps from the shadows, all trenchcoat and cigarette and arrogance, ready to deal with the madness. Oh, I've got it all sewn up. I can save you. If it takes the last drop of your blood, I'll drive your demons away. I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down, and then I'll be gone back into the darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack. I walk my path alone... who would want to walk with me?
Oh I see. There's some twat sitting somewhere with a pair of scales is there? Measuring good and evil in ounces? That's your problem mate. The whole bloody lot of you just wander about like a pack of wankers, seeing everything in black and white.
The most dangerous moment of the most dangerous game I've ever played. If they fall for this bit, it'll all be plain sailing.
I pinned all my hopes on Brendan, and I'm sure he did the same thing with me and what a waste of time it all turned out as. And thank Christ we did it, because I'm pissed and happy and I'm with my mate. Thank bloody Christ.
Can you see me now, all you friends I've lost and betrayed? Do you wish me well, then, or are you praying I'll be with you soon? Will you relish every scream when my blood starts hitting the floor, or will you turn away, afraid to look, the moment you've been waiting for too awful to look at, even for my sins? Sit back and enjoy the show.
John Constantine, you have been found guilty of first degree cold hearted bastardy. Of being a twisted, evil frigger who sneaks and creeps his way out of trouble that those less privileged have no defense against.
This is where we started it and this is where it'll finish. This is the killing ground where I take my revenge -- just as soon as I work out exactly how.
Christ, what a bloody awful mess!
Les, did I do something awful today? Y'know, like push a cripple down a flight of stairs 'er poison some poor dog?
A clock that can forecast the future. What a load a bollocks. I mean, no matter what you do, it's the same for everyone. Ya get a dreary job, ya fall in love, ya have some kids, ya fall out a love, ya lose ya hair, ya get soft... it's ****ing depressing, so I'll have none of it!
Disaster's snapping at my heels and it's time that I was somewhere far away. It's all up to me again, ennit? Somehow, I've got to stay ahead and get some news aces up my sleeve. But right now, all I really need's a smoke.
Heroic bloody Captain goes down with his ship, eh? You selfish, spineless git! What right have you got to just down tools and quit?
I shouldn't go looking for trouble anymore. I should... fall in love with a beautiful Irish woman and work tirelessly to get her into bed... heh...
It's not easy with Kit. I can't just ask her out, 'cause she makes me feel like some spotty bastard teenager. I need her to know for certain, right before the very first kiss... And I'm being followed by a ghost, which doesn't exactly help matters.
The rest of them might be content to spend their time fighting the Crimson Dongbiter or whoever, but I wanted to do something worthwhile.
Look, the Sandman's a fairy story you tell kids to get them off to sleep. Sprinkles magic dust in your eyes and brings you... sweet dreams. I'm trying to save the world, Mad Hettie, and you want to tell me fairy stories!
I mean, I'm going to be forty in a couple of years. I can't go on pissing about with magic and stuff forever. Might be time I wised up a bit...
The Tate Club told me to go !@#$ myself. Why should I stick my neck out for that bunch of self-important tossers?
We have to turn inwards. Enter the siege perilous-- and wrestle. It's not those grotesque, tired institutions of Heaven and Hell that are the problem-- it's the devils we know.
Jesus, we're all bloody doomed, aren't we? The entire species is flying off to Hell for its holidays. Somebody stop the world. I'm scared and I want to get off.
Anyone who'd launch something like this against a train-load of people has got to be a bad guy.
Can't help it. I always lie to policemen -- it's the way I was brought up. Not that I did much talking -- all I had to do was keep oiling the machinery, and it all came pouring out.
I'm an occultist -- I like to know what's going on behind the scenes. Bad things've been happening to people I like. I think it's going to get worse and I want to do something about it.
Then, like the breaking of a dream, I hear the word again -- howled with the raging breath of fear in the madness on the train. Jallakuntilliokan.
It's serious magic, Errol. The sort that changes things -- permanently.
All these writers putting you into their books have blurred the edges more. Now more people think you're a work of fiction than know you as a man.
Someone just walked over my grave.
Hmm. I don't know if I'll get the hang of this survivalist business. I mean, what about washing -- and where's the toilet?
Feel it. That unmistakable thrill of excitement, crackling from groin to pineal gland -- signalling that here is danger, here are dark doings. Ignore it, John. You don't do that kind of shit anymore. You're starting to fit in here -- and it could do you some good. Don't blow it for the sake of a bad day.
I wonder where I got the idea that it was peaceful in the countryside. It's a bloody war-zone. Slowly but surely, everything's slipping into bad craziness again.
Something here is adding up to a bloody funny number.
You killed them and you owe them something in return. Their flesh for your name, you bastard! Tell them your name!
This is something really nasty.
It's good to know we have all learned something from life's journey... most of us, anyway.
Here's to the new age, mate... The Age of Magic.
How did you find me?
First rule of magic, son: you rectify your mistakes right after you make them.
Better call me Constantine then.
Marj was one of these organic garden back-to-nature types, and I've always been a great believer in just bunging something in the microwave.
These are troubled times, and in troubled times it's everybody's duty to keep faith with themselves -- ennit?
I'm in Hell.
That's what happens when you let your guard down, Johnny Boy...
First of the day always tastes the best.
I need to take better care of me mates.
You tell him no matter how bad or sad it gets, how much it falls to bits on me, how many holes there are in me worthless soddin' life-- I'll never plug 'em with this bollocks.
In my dream I don't just reach out to her, I tell her I love her as well.
Don't let them call the kid Queenie-- right?
Me crystal ball says this is gonna be a round trip... all around.
I'm not sure what I am seeing anymore, mate.
This is where the Serpent lives.
You really owe me now, mate. I made you look pretty fuckin' sharp.
But there's one dark memory even the beer can't cloud over-- I think about a little girl I damned one night in Newcastle. I try to remember the last time I felt comfortable around a child...
Christ Almighty! You mean this poor sod is Robin Hood?
See, I'm putting my essence into hiding now... and bringing my demon to the fore.
Thanks, mate. Whoever you are.
This is true spirit of the beast... and it's magnificent-- beautiful.
Your soul dies if you stop dreaming.
Time to stop dancing around now, Angel. Let's get down to it.
No doubt Jack and his universal brotherhood of vegetables will be very wary of me after this little episode.
There are only two choices left, aren't there? Reconciliation, or damnation.
This is my place of thunder.
I'd say Keith's been waiting far too long to find the tosser responsible for his father's suicide...
I just want to know what happened.
See, it's the same old story for me. I love her-- just as Jack did. Yet I have no choice but to walk away.
It's always best to make a godd show of it for the toffs.
Congratulations, Wilf. It's a werewolf.
We need to talk... your majesty.
What have you done to my box?
Sometimes, I look in your eyes and I swear I've never seen anyone so sad like you, John.
If you ask me, there was something nasty in the water on the day the Almighty created this perverted universe.
Maybe it's just me and my natural aversion of suburban Hell.
Still, I can't help but wonder "Why me?"
D'you know what this is? It's our tenth bloody anniversary.
It always ends in a flash, but that's never the beginning.
Look... I'll sort it out. I always do. I promise.
Stop me if you've heard this one, mind: "Why do bad things happen to good people?"
To be honest, I didn't think there was anything did scare y--
It's just about the stupidest, fuckin' irresponsible thing I ever did, mate.
That's the day I answer for it all.
Gettin' pretty fuckin' lippy in your old age, aren't you?
Isabel Bracknell in the Brixton afternoon.
London's got a different geography, for me.
My name's John Constantine. I'm not the nicest bloke you've ever met. But I do me best.
Never fucking call me again.
Magic. You know all about magic, don't you?
In the end, all you've got is a memory and an old love song.
I am John Constantine, you twat.
I've missed so many funerals in my life (a good training for missing my own) --
What? No Silk Cuts?
You wanna what I usedta think was worse than dying? Spending my life in prison.
I am a bastard. The worst you'd ever want to meet.
...we both liked being on top.
I miss London.
Hello Rose. Y'know, every once in a while I feel a little pain... right about where ya stuck me with that pin.
Seriously. A snap a'me fingers... an'you're in a world of hurt.
Was over her, the day I met you, Dickie.
It's too late for any magic, Richie.
A warning, Turro. Don't pretend to know me.
You ever see a corpse before, Pete?
-- myths -- legends, they do us well.
S'funny, ya snuff yourself, they call you a victim of suicide. The real victims are the living--
I hated myself for more years than I care to remember.
Me death was a nasty little trick put over on you.
Hate is a strong emotion, in'it?
I am dead. I'm just doomed to walk the Earth for a bit, that's all.
Because Gladys called me by a name she shouldn't have known. Which means she wasn't there by accident.
I come two hundred miles to see the bugger, and he's dead and buried.
If you've touched her, you psychopath, I'll break you in pieces.
You're a bloody hostage! You stay alive as long as I play ball.
I mean, this thing has been blessed by Kali.
Whoever put you and Gary Lester on to me, tell them I've got a letterbox like every other bastard.
Tell his majesty I'll be in touch.
When the gate closed, everything that belonged on the other side should have gone back there.
I raised the stakes. You would never bet everything unless you were certain you would win.
Angie-- I got what I needed. The whole story.
Tomorrow's the end of the world.
This thing... followed us out of Eden. It was the Beast never named by Adam.
We're going to hit it with London.
This thing is camped out in the... Collective Unconscious. In touch with every human mind. Except mine.
Nobody ever died because I wasn't trying! If you could say the same, you'd be happily dead by now.
Time to wake up, John. Time to get moving.
There's nothing you can't give me that I want!
I'm not a demon!
It's been a while, isn't it?
The bracelet's a ward, okay? A protection spell. But the stone is pure bloody evil.
So someone's taking out the London boys.
That's my sister lying down there, string the last judgment full in the face. So this time I'm going to Hell.
Which of these botched abortions killed my sister Cheryl?
This is an addiction.
It's coming on to rain, with perfect timing. The first drops running down my face so that from a distance you could mistake them for tears.
Ah, fags. Lone consolation of the fucking miserable.
So what are the chances... of bumping into Anita Nelson?
Down these lonely roads a man must go alone.
I don't have to do a fucking thing I don't want to.
The whole apocalyptic thing feels pretty comfortable to me. Suits my personality.
The key's in the history. His identity is in the story.
I forgot... I forgot how happy hating people can make you. Winning a fight, humiliating an enemy. Making a difference. I feel... hope.
It's time to get back in the game...
Unfinished business.
It's been waiting for me. All these years.
...d'you know what an invocation is?
Best revenge is to live well, and shit like that.
I'm going to have to kill you Mister Death.
Just another pointless little death.
Who am I? I'm your fucking nightmare, son.
By the time the carpet actually catches fire, it's already told me everything I know.
--and I don't believe in coincidence. Just synchronicity.
I do what must be done. For London.
Do you see him, up there? The leader of the opposition? That's you, Tim. You as you are now.
I don't believe in destiny, I don't have some predetermined role to play in the universe, and believe you me, I am most definitely not the second coming of whoever-the-fuck.
First rule of the con: when you're stuck in the middle, play both sides against each other.
The suspense is fucking killing me.
Nice ceiling. Who's your decorator?
I reckon that's enough moving in mysterious ways for one night. I'm off to catch forty winks.
We were shite, kid. We were bloody awful. Bu then, again, no worse than a lot of others back then.
Well, you know it's all gone down. Just didn't want to see you go the same way, mate.
Every time I try and reassert some control over my life, you've been there to drag me down again!
I go away for a few days and what, you turn into fuckin' Miss Marple?
Happy new year everybody! Happy new fucking year!
I got demon blood in my veins. I break hearts and destroy lives and poison anything good that touches me.
You don't tell her your life's already a nightmare.
You, me... it was never going to work, was it? Different people, different worlds.
You can rot here for eternity.
Julian knows all of my kind of magic. Epiphany's alchemy.
Epiphany don't do this.
And she gives me this look. This look that says, your life is in my hands, buster. And don't you forget it.
Nobody fucks with John Constantine.
Coubld Phoebe already be reborn?
I've been dead a few times, mate.
Personally? I think Epiphany and I are probably seriously bad for each other's health.
Finally... and most important... I leave Phoebe. Leaver her to whatever spirit journey she's on.
Why is Shade so screwed up?
Kathy George. The kind of girl who could make a man do stupid things.
I admit it. There are times when I really enjoy my work.
Jesus. Where have you been all my life?
I'm still dizzy for proposing to Epiphany.
I love her. I loved you, too... but I love her differently. More.
Sorry chaps. My nonalignment policy is fanatical. An absolute line in the sand.
Concentrate, John, they're turning you into a bit part in E.R., here.
Look out, Heaven, look out, Hell. Johnny Constantine's back on the beat.
Fucking Nergal.
Third one's the charm, babes. Trust me.
You thought you could control me with drugs? Do you know who I am? I'm John fucking Constantine. And you two are fucked.
Look how pale you are. Did you get a visit from a vampire?
There are times when you don't want to ring the doorbell. You just get a feeling. You want the element of surprise. The unguarded moment.
He calls taking on America's foremost crime organization a little favour.
Tell me what I'm supposed to have done.
Of course, that doesn't mean that Belmarsh still ain't a frightning place. Even for some like me. Like John Constantine. Prisoner B8076AG.
The demons, the spells, the bad luck magic. All those dark and terrible crimes against nature. How can it not have left a mark on the coat?
You said yourself, why should not having that coat affect me like this?
I can't be sure, but I think that the trench coat acts like a kind of... lightning rod. Without it... or without its aura... I'm vulnerable to any stray bolts of unstable magic.
Best bloody coat I've ever had.
Even back then, before I had any demon in my blood, it wasn't safe to be a friend of John Constantine...
This is what's so nice about being stuck in Hell. Meeting old friends.
Dark magic to fight a dark twin.
Epiphany vouched you her father's soul. How did you make her do' that?
Like I told him, werewolves weren't really my thing.
He's a Constantine. How close do you think I was to being a lunatic murderer?
I'm going to find him for you, Cheryl. My nephew. The missing Constantine.
I thought it was time for a family reunion.
Bollocks. A Constantine with brains.
I told her what decent bloke he was. A doctor, a family man.
I don't have the heart to tell my beautiful, young wife. The truth is I've run out of one-liners.
Self-deceiving, stupid, pitiful, bloody fool. To think you can cheat your fate so easily. To think it can be that painless. It can never be painless. But from now on... no one else gets hurt because of me. No one.
You're all looking for something to blame when you should be looking out of the window.
You probably feel like you're on some kind of bad trip. I remember the first time it happened to me...
Football, for example, is far more enjoyable when shown in the comfort of the living room-- preferably someone else's.
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