NO WAY, YOU BIG SPASTIC! YOU'RE A MENTALIST!

- DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?
- YEAH... YES.

- SHE WAS FRIGHTENED.
- YEAH. I KNOW.

YOU SIT THERE ON YOUR FAT BEHIND,

RIGHT...MINIBAR.

THEY'VE GOT A MODEL OF A SLAVE BOAT
IT'S VERY BIG,

THAT FARMERS ENCOUNTER FROM ARMCHAIR PUNDITS
WHO FORGET TO THINK BEFORE THEY OPEN THEIR MOUTH.

RIGHT. I'VE GOT YOUR BOOK SIGNING AT 12 O'CLOCK

- AYE.
- TASTES LIKE FIZZY BENYLIN.

TELL ME YOUR NAME.

I RECKON I COULD DO THAT BOND STUFF.

- LYNN, ARE YOU WEARING PERFUME?
- YES.

# MAKES ME FEEL SAD FOR THE REST

WHY DON'T YOU TWO BUY THE HATCHET
OVER A COFFEE? AFTER YOU, LYNN.

I'M GOING TO GET A GINSTER'S FROM THE FRIDGE.
PUT IT ON THE SLATE.

(PHONE RINGS)

BUT I DIDN'T KILL HIM, THAT WAS THE TRAGEDY,
I HAD TO GO BACK AND FINISH HIM OFF WITH A JACK.

# IT'S THE KISS OF DEATH