Character: Arthur Shelby (Arthur Shelby). Page 2

My head feels like a barge loaded with coal and iron. And when it tilts, slipping it to one side, then another, and eventually, the barge flipped. Here and my head like that fucking barge - swinging, swinging, and flipping, and I can't do anything.

- I don't know what to do here.
Arthur, you're two-thirds of life spent in pubs. Just pour instead to drink.
But I still can drink?
- Your pub - do what you want.

Want to kill me - aim for the head. Are there any problems. From a shot in the stomach dying half the day. I saw these in the war, soldiers go with guts in his hands, as dirty Laundry.

He's too naive.
- They are not fighting, they are different. They do not need to fight for survival, so naive. They have no time to grow up.

- You now jump and manipulated? And permission from Billy Kimber got? Huh? Then what are you? I think we could handle the Chinese and Billy Kimber? Yes, Billy has a whole army!
- I think, Arthur. It's my job. I think. To not have you.