- JILL, I'M AFRAID I HAVE NO SHEATHS.
- NO WHAT?

THIS IS THE SAME RUBBISH AS THE OTHER DAY
WHEN YOU TALKED ABOUT PUTTING A SPINE IN A BAP.

- IT'S OK...
- NO, STAY! DON'T GO!

(ORGAN MUSIC.. "KNOWING ME KNOWING YOU" BY ABBA)

CASH IN HAND? IT'S NOT A PHRASE WE LIKE.

"FROM FELIXSTOWE TO SPALDING, ALL THE ISSUES."

- (BUZZING)
- WE'LL HAVE TO HAVE A SERIOUS TALK.

- YEAH.
- ARE YOU THE CRANK CALLER?

YOUR HEAD LOOSENS FROM YOUR TORSO
AND BOBS INTO THE DISTANCE,

YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT DEAD AIR IS A CRIME.

WE'LL SET UP A SIGNAL. IF YOU SEE KETCHUP
IN THE WINDOW, IT MEANS, "LET'S MAKE LOVE."

WE'RE QUESTIONING ONE BLOKE.

SEX FESTIVAL?

HAVE YOU NEVER HAD A LAGER AND GIN AND TONIC
AND BAILEYS IRISH CREAM CHASER?

AND ANOTHER ONE JUST SO I CAN HAVE A POSITIVE.

YOU ARE A BIG POSH SOD
WITH PLUMS IN YOUR MOUTH.

TALKING OUT OF HIS ARSE.

SHE'S INSURED. SHE'S A NAMED DRIVER. LET'S GO!