THAT'S TOO HIGH.

WOULD YOU LIKE A DRINK FIRST?

RIGHT, WELL...

TWO THINGS.

OH, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
WHERE'S MY SHOTGUN? CLICK, CLICK.

I USED TO ENJOY SITTING HERE LIKE THIS.
OR LIKE THIS. SOMETIMES I'D LEAN FORWARD.

THE STOCKS ARE NOW OPEN
FOR CUSTARD-PIE THROWING.

YOU REALISE IT WAS
NOTHING TO DO WITH VALENTINE'S DAY?

LET ME REMIND YOU.

HOW ARE YOU? DID YOU GET MARRIED?

NO, IT ACTUALLY SAYS "COCK, PISS, PARTRIDGE".

SWEATY RAPHAEL WE USED TO CALL HIM.
GREAT BIG STAINS UNDER HIS ARMPITS.

- IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU KNOW ME.
- OK.

- AND DO YOU DO THAT WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND?
- NO, I DO IT ALONE.

HE DOESN'T AVOID TAX, HE ONLY EVADES TAX..
NO, THE OTHER WAY ROUND. OH, SHUT UP!

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

NO. HIS SILENCE, I THINK, SPEAKS VOLUMES.

THAT'S THE SAME SIZE
AS YOUR BEDROOM IN THE CARAVAN.