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Prada Burmantofts

The Unwritten rules for moving up the drug-dealing chain:

1. Do not insult, annoy, or undermine those higher up in the chain.

2. Be prepared to take the shitty-end of the stick from those higher up.

3. Those below you in the chain should always give you respect. It also proves useful for people to see that they are giving this respect.

4. Never release information; what you are holding, who you know, who you supply and who supplies you. Nothing! No one is to be trusted. Say nothing!

5. As you move up the chain take the right people with you. You will never make it on your own. Those who may ruin your standing must be jettisoned - even if they are good friends. Business is business. Separate the two if need be.

6. Know all the people you deal with inside-out. Knowledge is power. Slap-hands. Bump-knuckles. Ask about their life. Become friends but still hide your life and apply too much pressure.

7. Never use.

8. If a deal seems too good to be true then it is.

9. Make your money as fast as you can and then get out because no-one lasts forever. Police. Other dealers. Angry or desperate punters. Someone will be your downfall. It's just a matter of time.

10. Never run your mouth without the muscle to back it up. If you do have muscle then by all means use your mouth to gain respect. But calmly. Malevolence is more powerful than anger.

11. Dress accordingly with your ranking with the drug dealing hierarchy. As the saying goes - 'Clothes maketh the man'.

Darren
It's the way it is, innit ... you know, the rule like, shag the mum and you end up having to look after the sprog ... the mum's Mand ... so, here's me like a daft cunt looking after Jase ... good shag like, but for fuck's sakes mate ... kid's father was a wanker and fucked off ... but the sprog was, well, just a sprog ... so can't blame him ... I always gets out when it goes that way ... but this Jas, he looks up to me ... I run the blocks don't I ... so he fucking well should ... so I tell him ... I told your mum that I'd look after you which means that I've gotta keep you outta trouble ... and he looks at me, pissed off ... he don't give a fuck ... n' I don't wanna look after him ... cos he don't want lookin after ... truth be known, I don't want to be looking after the cunt ... but I gotta keep Mand sweet ... he's a little tearaway twat, that one ... so to make him happy I say ... I have to look after you, because your mum is my lass, so I'll buy you stuff, okay mate ... and I wink at him and I reckon he knows what I mean ... but I also do the shrug just to show him that I don't give a fuck either way ... what-fucking-ever ... he can take it or leave it ... you know ... but I kinda like the kid because I remember being 11 and not giving a fuck ... just like him ... he knows the law can't touch him ... the social workers shit themselves to even come onto the estate ... he wants to be the man you know ... the man, but ... he's just a kid ... knows fuck all ... I remember when I was his age, getting smacked by the old man and thinking I was Sylvester Stallone or something ... hard as fuck ... no one messes and all that ... and I probably deserved it ... I know cos I look back and I was a right lippy cunt when I was little ... now I know to shut the fuck up ... but ... so I takes him into town ... he spots this Prada jacket ... 420 notes ... but whatever ... it's only fucking money ... he's made up ... big grins ... I'm his new best mate ... afterwards, he's walking round the estate like he owns it ... like a right, little, fucking hard-on ... and I'm like to him ... you know it now kid ... clothes maketh the man ... that's the saying, innit ... style costs money ... money and you're the man ... he's sweet ... you never know ... he's not no daft cunt like the rest of 'em.

Jason
Daz was fucking me mum, weren't he ... me real dad fucked off years ago ... he was a complete gay twat any way ... mum says ... so Daz said something about looking after me ... but what the fuck, the guy's a dealer ... me mum gets her shit from 'im ... s'ow they met ... n' everyone on the estate knows ... knows that he's in charge ... so him looking after me ... was he taking the piss or what ... more likely to smack me for being lippy ... like that other twat ... it sounded fucking stupid to me ... Daz keeping ME outta trouble ... what the fuck?!

Not never a twat, though ... all I do is smoke the skunk ... have a drink with the lads down the shops ... and do cars ... yeah cars ... fucking A ... all just for a bit of fun ... fuck all else to do ... I don't go round smacking other kids ... fuck that ... you just get smacked back ... and usually by some fucker's brother or bigger mates' ... daft bastards ... or even stabbed by some nigga … no taxing either … same scan … what's the point ... but if some cunt smacks me I'll smack 'em back ... I'm not no soft twat, neither ... and the robbing seems stupid as well ... mum's been robbed and we have fuck all anyway ... I like the finer things in life ... nice girls ... clothes ... good weed ... the cars for a bit of a burn ... I jus' boost 'em for fun and just fly about, big tunes n' that ... police don't give a fuck anyway ... neither does my mum ... she just likes getting fucked on the brown ... so he bought us this boss-fucking-jacket ... Daz ... took us to this smart as fuck shop in town where everything was expensive as fuck ... it's made by Prada and it's cool as fuck and my mum's never bought be 'owt like that before … gay dad neither ... but I knew that Daz wasn't gonna jus' give us the jacket for nowt ... 'cos I know him and he never does nothing for nothing ... he runs Wellington and Nelson blocks and other bits as well ... weed, Charlie and brown and pills and stuff ... and he's hard as fuck ... works out ... loads of the gold and a boss Leeds United tat that's cool as fuck ... so I reckon that he gave me the jacket because he wants me to do some stuff for him, and I'm cool with running for him ... you have to start somewhere ... like being in his crew and I know that I can do it ... always made money selling skunk at school and never been caught never ... 'cos I'm smart, like Daz ... and I'm up for running with Daz because there's fuck all else to do and school's shite.

I thought Daz would be pissed ... smack us ... you know ... at least take the Prada off us and that ... didn't even shout at us when I saw 'im ... but maybe my dopehead mum hadn't said nowt ... you know just probably fucked up and hitting it ... like she normally does ... all she does is get fucked all the time ... she had a job at the pub last year but that closed 'cos of Skully and those other kids … smashed the place to shit … was a dump any how ... but now she can't be arsed doing owt ... 'cept getting fucked and Daz ... she keeps going on about Daz ... but it sounds bad, but I reckon it's just for the free brown ... some fuckers at school take the piss ... but me ... I don't give a fuck ... she cares fuck all about mine ... so I care fuck all about hers ... but at least her boyfriend is da man ... and he buys me this cool fucking jacket ... more than them daft cunts get ... merry Christmas Jase ... BOY!

Yeah, it was a few of weeks after Daz got me the jacket ... he sez to me that he needs a favour but not now likes ... a few night's time ... and I was hanging out with Johno that day cos I couldn't be fucked going to school ... it was maths with pedo-queer Crenshaw ... so we'd both fucked off school and went looking for this car that Johno had said he'd seen on Wetherby Road ... Jags are a piece of piss ... like Ford own 'em now, and since that day the security crap in them cars are shite and they're a piece-a-fucking-piss now ... wouldn't buy one, m’sen ... far too easy to boost ... Johno's well excited because he's my best friend from ever ... I think he reckons he's gonna be running with the big boys on the estate with me ... but I know nowt about that ... I say nothing ... pays to keep it shut sometimes ... you know ... but like Johno, is like this guy that I've known forever ... he don't say much ... sometimes I wonder if he just has fuck all to say ... but we can have a right laugh sometimes ... so we go looking for this car ... just off having a laugh looking ... you know, hoping it's there like ... and I reckon Johno's like quite smart cos he always knows where they always are ... and he's the one who told me how to drive ... so we crack it and have a burn about ... up to the Park and the big road where you can proper floor it ... then later, stop in the car park for a spliff ... then we went up to Scotthall and about that area ... there's some good twisty roads and that field ... just trying to burn it and not get caught ... when we got bored we drove back and left the car at MacDonald's cos they always have booster pigs at the road at the start of the estate ... the helicopter's about most of the time as well ... so we got a burger with the money we found in the ash tray ... it was like twenty quid or summat ... then walked back ... but then the next day the pigs pick us up ... I'm like ‘fuck you and … fuck’ you too, to ‘em ... there's fuck all they can do ... but you have to go in wiv 'em, don't yer ... but I know the fucking drill ... fuck all they can do ... absolutely fuck all ... when I first started getting picked up there was shit about a getting a social worker ... then they said they would get me taken away and put in a young offenders something or other ... but me and them know that them cunts get holidays abroad and stuff ... so I didn't give a fuck either way ... but that never happened either ... what a surprise ... probably knew that'd like the free holidays too much ... not never been on holiday really 'cept that one time in the caravan with Andy and Aunt Jackie ... none of them really give a fuck ... so why should I ... so all they do is bring me in and tell me off ... every fucking time it's the same shit ... it's boring ... then there's this Paki-bitch pig asking me questions at the station, but she seems more interested in the jacket than the car ... she's trying to be all nice to me ... sometimes they're like that ... and she sez ... that's a nice jacket Jason ... all pretending smiles and stuff ... where did you get it from, your mum buy it you ... like I'm fucking stupid or a 5-year-old or summat ... it's a fake, love ... I smiles back ... got it down the market off one of the smelly Paki stalls that sells the knock-offs ... just to see if I can upset the bitch ... but then she's like ... you don't get Prada fakes Jason because they don't make them ... do you know why ... and she's trying to be all clever about it ... so I says ... okay I'll tell you where I got it then ... I pretend to look worried ... only joking with her ... I found it on the road after a party ... I was so pissed and stoned I don't remember where ... but I am glad it's an original, thanks for the info, love ... all cocky like ... and she looks proper gutted and goes out ... when she comes back in she looks even more pissed off ... I know they were checking with the pig station in town to see if owt had been knicked ... Flannels had any reports then, I sez ... that was the shop where Daz took me ... Jason, she sez ... but she's got nothing ... I'm not stupid ... stoopid ho ... then she's like ... know how many time you've been pulled this year ... and I says ... by lasses on the estate ... fucking loads ... no, how many times you've been to the station ... brought in ... and I sez, ‘what is it a competition or summat ... you tell me ... how many times has Hallsie been in ... you know Dean Hall ... am I winnin'?’ ... and then they call my mum and let me go ... mum was stresses as fuck at having to get the bus to Cross Gates ... cos I know she wanted a shot ... I could see it when she got there ... I hate it when she looks all like that ... and she gets all snappy and hits us ... when it all happened I wasn't going to ask her if she was going grass to Daz ... that would have been too dangerous ... would have put ideas in her head ... I'm not no daft cunt.

Amanda
I fucking knew it ... Daz can be such a twat at times ... and I say to Jas that he's not wearing that stupid jacket any more because he's acting like a prat with it on all the time ... getting nicked by the busies and nicking cars ... I tell him that I'm going to tell Daz to take it off him and tell Daz about the Jag and about getting nicked ... I'm sick of going down to the station all the time ... and all he can say is that people know who he is with the kit on ... clothes maketh the man ... but he's not a man ... he's just a boy ... it sounds like some shit Daz has probably fed him ... and I said that some other bigger kid'll just nick it ... kids ... and he's like ... no way, everyone know's I am one of Daz's boys, they wouldn't fucking dare ... and why the fuck would Daz take the jacket off me ... it wouldn't even fit him ... ‘one of Daz's boys ... what are you on about Jase ... you're a fucking kid and I don't want you hanging round with Daz and pestering him ... you know he's a dealer ... I don't want you getting mixed up with that shit ... the cars are bad enough but I don't want you to ...’ and Jase shouts back before I can finish what I'm saying ‘... YEAH BUT YOU'RE FUCKING HIM AND YOU FUCKING DO FUCKING BROWN ... AND WHAT DID YOU EVER BUY ME ... OR THAT FUCKING LOSER WHO USED TO SMACK ME ... I'LL DO WHAT THE FUCK I WANT ... SO FUCK OFF YOU BITCH ...’ then he storms off to his room, slams the door and turns his music on really loud so I can't even think anymore ... then the neighbours start banging ... and the next time I see him, a few days later, he has a massive shiner ... I reckon it was Daz even though I said nothing ... but when I ask he just goes ‘... fuck off ...’ and storms off to his room again ... later I found out it was Trace ... his lass ... the jacket had been popular with the other lasses on the estate ... or at least him going, he was running with Daz and that he'd bought him the jacket and he was now one of the boys ... young girls are stupid ... and I'm like ... Jase that jacket's a fucking curse ... it's brought you nowt but trouble ... get rid of it ... Trace is a nice lass ... and he's like ‘... fuck off you stoned Irish cow ...’ and he left again ... and I hate it when he does that because he knows I'm fucked ... then I'm in the flat on my own ... floating and thinking about the stupid, fucking coat ... then I aint seen him again for four days ... then he's back crying his eyes out in my lap like when he was small and he'd fallen off his bike or some other kid wouldn't play with him ... and …

Johno's dead ... SHOT ... shot for fucksakes ... guns and fucking drugs and fuck boys thinking they're men ... I've known Johno's mum, Debs, since I moved here when I left home ... Jase was two at the time ... they've always been friends and used to share toys when they were small ... Jase's head is on my lap ... just crying ... saying over and over ‘... text to the Prada … Pasta ... text the Prada ... text Prada ... that's the holder ... Rasta … get the Prada holder Ras … Ras Clat ... and it was me ... and Johno, no you can't borrow it ... me ... me ... the text said go for the Prada ... bastards ... nigga cunts ... it was me ... he didn't even look good in it ... looked like a like ... fuck ... fuck ... text ... the Prada ... fuck … Yardie … blood … it would have been me ... me ... looked like an idiot in that ...’ but when I try and talk to him he doesn't answer ... my back hurts ... and I look down at my hand moving on his head and it's all Shaking Stevens ... I need a shot ... not had one today ... hands shaking ... just need a shot ... where's Daz? Who the fuck does Daz think he is ... Fuck Prada, I need a hit.

The Unwritten rules for shopping at exclusive designer boutiques:

1. Act as though you can afford any item in the shop.

2. Show confidence and affluence by trying on more items than you intend to purchase.

3. Always wear good clothes when shopping. But never anything that you have recently purchased from said shop.

4. Even though you will be using a fitting room never pick up anything you know will not fit you, as this will make you look foolish.

5. When trying on clothes make sure you come out of the fitting room and see the clothing in proper light, in a full length mirror, ask assistants what they think. Shows that you are confident in expensive clothes.

6. Take your time.

7. The assistants are there to help. Remember the assistants earn less than you, therefore they are below you.

8. Never look at the sale racks.

9. If you have children, take them along. Of course children grow out of clothes quickly but to have them dressed in the right clothes shows affluence.

10. Always know what you’re shopping for. Never look unsure.

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