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Summary
How I see it is you've got two options. You can ask for a lawyer now, and we will see each other in court in a few days. Or . . . you can spend tonight in jail and maybe we can come up with a deal in the morning to satisfy us both."
"I don't know wut you fink you're gonna get from me. You know I ain't never grassed anyone up. I ain't about to start neither."
"I know, Eggsy. But it's your choice." Detective Hart smiled, but it was a bitter one.
"What you want, then?" Eggsy could never quite figure this man out.
"What I want is to never see you here again," Detective Hart answered, voice sharp. Eggsy knew the detective didn't mean it like that, but the words still stung like a slap to the cheek. "You're not a teenager anymore." Harry's tone was suddenly softer than before. "You're twenty-two now. This may be the last chance I have to offer you. Please take it, Eggsy."
Or
Eggsy is a troubled youth, and Harry Hart is the one who's been pulling the boy off the streets for four years.