YOU SAY TOM-AR-TO, I SAY TOM-AY-TO.

- I LOVE THE BEATLES.
- YEAH. SO DO I.

WE OUGHT TO CALL IT "OUR HOUSE".

- ARE YOU GOING BACK TO YOUR WIFE?
- NO! CAROL? NO, GOD, NO.

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

HE'S IN THE THIRD BATTALION, THIS LAD
BUT HE'S RIGHT MEAN, OK?

I'M GIVING THEM TO ALL LADIES I KNOW
AGED FIFTY AND UNDER.

IT'S HIS FATHER.

NO, ALAN, WE WANT TO KEEP IT SIMPLE,
AND THAT'S WHY WE HIRED YOU.

- MAYBE A WET T-SHIRT COMPETITION?
- YOU NEVER KNOW!

WE MANAGED TO RECTIFY IT, BECAUSE
IT NOW SAYS "COOK" WHERE IT ONCE SAID "COCK",

WOULDN'T WANT TO, THOUGH.
NOT UNLESS IT HAD BEEN STUNNED.

GLENMORANGIE?

- IT'S LIKE CARS, THIS.
- THAT'S RIGHT.

"OOH, SHALL I SIT THERE OR THERE?
OOH, AM I LIKE A LITTLE MOUSE?"

I'LL GIVE YOU A CHINESE BURN!

OR WITH UNDERGARMENTS
PERHAPS MADE FROM BARK,

SO YOU DON'T THINK I CAN TELL ANECDOTES?