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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
-No, I don't. -Yes, you do.
Do you think she'll mind?
What have I told you about that arm?
Billy Elliot.
MRS WILKINSON: All right, if you must.
JACKIE: (CRYING) I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
They're only meant for lasses.
MRS WILKINSON: Debbie! It's time for Billy to go home!
Nothing.
Thought you enjoyed it.
(BILLY GIGGLES)
Okay, right, we don't have time for this.
as the enemy within.
(STUTTERING) You won't tell anyone, will you?
(DOOR SLIDES OPEN)
Your dad work down the pit, then?
GEORGE: Right, lads. Look sharp. Everybody, out!
MAN: Well, in that case,
(MUSIC STOPS)
MRS WILKINSON: Four, five, six, seven, eight.
(SPITS)
They teach you that. That's why they're a ballet school.
MAN 1: What the fuck is he doing, Tony?
See you down the picket line, Dad.
Bottoms in.
You're asking for a hiding, Son.
What're you doing, man? Hit him!
Right. Spin it, Mr Braithwaite. Spin it.
I'll give you the money for the fare.
is forced to be a swan.
Heel out. Drop your hip.
TEACHER: Copy down that diagram. You only have five minutes left.
MICHAEL: Billy! Billy!
No, she was just me mom.
-MAN 1: Felton. -Felton.
Come on.
Please yourself, then.
(WHISTLE BLOWING)
Look, I don't wanna do your stupid fucking audition!
-Let's see this fucking dancing. -MRS WILKINSON: No.
Right, now I want you to watch carefully, girls.
So then what happens?
I'm just trying it on.
Come on. Spin it! Now, focus!
-All right then, lads. -(PIANO PLAYING SOFTLY)
GEORGE: How! I'm gonna have a raffle at the welfare.
she meets this young prince,
The best of luck, Billy.
OFFICER: Go on. Get in there! Off you go, mate!
MAN: Keep away from there, son.
TONY: You haven't got it in you. You're finished!
You all right? What's the matter?
(DOOR CLOSING)
BILLY: George said we can have another whip-round.
Where'd you get it?
Well, don't just stand there, Elliot!
Have a safe journey home.
Who's a big man now?
Right. All right. Jump up, William.
It's all right, Billy. I heard it from Debbie.
WOMAN: Can I help you?
Send him round to my house. I'll sharp knock some sense into him.
My hands are freezing.
GEORGE: Merry Christmas, everybody!
BOY 1: This your first time? BOY 2: Yeah.
Liberace, will you give it a rest?
And a one, two, three, pas de bourrée.
It's this one here!
No, not really. No.
When I forgot that she was dead and that.
Left arm on the bar. Feet first.
What's wrong with ballet?