THERE'S A LOAD OF FROSTIES ON YOUR STEP.

- # DING DONG MERRILY ON... #
- DON'T SING, SUSAN!

HELLO.

I COULD HOLD IT THERE AND SHOUT
"STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!"

HE'S MARRIED
SO I SHALL ONLY BE USING HIS CHRISTIAN NAME.

BUT I THINK I'M SLIGHTLY CONSTIPATED.

WOULD IT BE RUDE TO STOP LISTENING
TO YOU AND SPEAK TO SOMEBODY ELSE?

GADZOOKS! IT'S THE NOBLE
SIR DAVID CLIFTON OF RADIOSHIRE.

BUT HE MUST ALSO SACK HER FROM HER JOB AS HIS
RECEPTIONIST. I DIDN'T MENTION THAT EARLIER,

SPRING IN YOUR STEP'S THE LAST THING YOU NEED
ON A CLIFF. IT'S A SUICIDE HOT SPOT.

I WANT IT ON THIS.

I'VE ARRANGED FOR YOU
TO SEE A SHOW HOUSE AT TEN O'CLOCK.

BECAUSE GIN AND TONIC AND BAILEYS
ARE LIKE A LADY'S DRINK, LAGER'S A BOYS' DRINK?

OR DAVE BLOGGS QUEUEING FOR A TICKET
BEHIND A MAN BUYING A TRAVEL PASS.

- YOU'D MAKE A GOOD JAMES BOND.
- REALLY?

SIT THERE. SIT THERE.

WHERE'S THE ROAD?

- I AM NOT SCARED TO DOGS.
- THESE ARE MORE LIKE FAT HORSES.