Doghouse

Aw, f***...

F***in' hell!

What's the matter with you? What?

- I'm not a bloody prostitute!

- All right, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Christ's sake, this was our second date!

Was it? Listen, listen, all right...

I was on the tequilas

last night and, um...

- What is your name again?

- Oh, you're kidding.

Tell you what, if you was a prostitute...

you know... you'd be caked.

- Argh!

- Ow!

What's the matter with you?

That was a compliment!

You know what I mean, I can't win!

I've got the pox of it.

Tell you something else,

you're only an old dog, anyway.

Maybe "boys' weekend,"

wasn't the best choice of words.

Whatever. Have a nice time.

I'm not one of those guys

who ditches his mates for his girlfriend!

- I don't want you to ditch your mates!

- What DO you want?

An invite would've been nice.

No girls allowed, darling.

I didn't know

there was gonna be strippers!

- And Neil's not in charge. I am.

- That fills me with confidence.

I'm only going to my gran's.

I'll be back on Monday.

I'll have the locks changed before then.

Bex, Bex...

It's for Vince. Vince!

He's helped me

out so many times, I've lost count.

When I first came to London,

he supported me. I owe him.

Lots of people get divorced, Mikey.

He'll get over it.

Yes, by spending a weekend

getting trollied with his mates.

Well, you can celebrate

your own divorce with him!

I thought you'd react like that,

so I glued your ring on.

- See you Monday, babe. Love you too!

- Mikey, if you walk out that gate...

You don't know whether

you're coming or going, do you?

Patrick!

I'm going. I'm going!

The first weekend

my parents visit in years,

and you bugger off to the wilderness

to rediscover your testicles!

It's bad enough I have to tell them

you've quit your job...

Welcome to Sonic Stress Therapy.

It's going to be a beautiful day.

Let's start it with a smile.

- Anxiety is almost the same...

- Are you just gonna f***ing go?

No, no.

It's a symbol of his identity, and the

source of his primeval inner strength.

So how come the Zombie Girls

kick his arse on page four?

How many times have I told you

they're NOT zombies?!

- All right, calm down. It's only a comic.

- No, no, it's not only a comic.

This is a... It's a unique

and often misunderstood art form.

This... is a painstakingly crafted,

and carefully balanced alignment

of words and art, OK?

- What, like TV?

- Do you want it or not?

- No, it's stupid.

- Right, piss off!

- Go on. We're closing early, OK?

- What? Why?

Spaceltime anomaly.

You mean... you want

a bit of time alone with your missus.

Don't touch her. Get off her and get out!

Go on, then!

Go on, out!

And don't come back!

Little knob-end.

Vince, you're not getting out of this!

- You're coming with us!

- We're gonna have such a good time!

Be careful! Be careful! Be careful!

Oh, you bastard!

Bastard!

Bastard!

Bastard!

Bastard! Argh!

THE HORRORS'

"SHE IS THE NEW THING")

# She's a special girl, you know

# The kind I'd hope to see

Hanging on a wall

# Watching me cross the street

# I wonder how long it will be

# Before I'm sick of her

And I no longer care

# Where she goes or has been

# Cause she's the new thing

# Cause she's the new thing

# She is the new thing

# Well, she's the new thing

# She is the new thing

# She is the new thing

# Another new thing

# Feel my stomach sink

As I curse my slow limbs

# She is the new thing

# Always a new thing

# Staring at her, ulterior girl #

Thanks.

- Vince, you left this behind, mate.

- Ta.

- I thought you'd given up.

- I have.

- Where's Banksy?

- Late.

He's always late for everything.

He showed up on time for his wedding.

Why's that funny?

Well, he showed up, and, um...

she didn't show up at all.

+ Lucky bastard!

Here, I'll give him call.

Oh, sh*t!

"... you're through to Banksy Electrical.

Please leave your name and number

after the tone, and I'll... "

Banksy, you're wanker.

Hurry up!

Liven yourself up, lazy-bollocks!

Hey, Pat, what's with

them golf clubs, man?

There's no golf courses

where we're going.

That's why have this bag...

my little friend.

You know there's more

to life than football.

- All you need is the open air...

- Me nuts, ow!

I don't think your new-age

golf therapy is gonna work on Vince, Pat.

Vince is real man, Pat, not like you.

You should've seen him

in his glory days, Mikey.

I mean, they used to call him Fearless.

He would step out in front of

a raging bull just to protect his mates,

and still manage to buy the first round

from his hospital bed.

Yeah, that's only 'cause you guys

picked up what was left in me wallet.

- We helped you.

- Go on, show Mikey.

- Oh, yeah, look at this!

- Let's have a look.

Pamplona Bull Run '96. He screamed

like a girl the whole way around.

I wish I was there, man...

Sh*t!

Sorry, mate, seriously.

Let me just...

Anyway, where were we?

Snap out of it, Vince.

Today you re-discover your inner bloke.

You don't wanna miss it.

Me inner bloke's all right, thanks.

He's not, though, is he?

He's lost his way.

We all have.

All suffering from social gender anxiety.

Is that some sort of disease

or something?

Nobody knows, that's the problem.

The second you try

to figure it out... doomed.

Not you, Vince. We're gonna

bring you back from the brink.

- Oi, no smoking!

- Shut up.

- You're outnumbered.

- Ooh, I'm terrified

Slag.

- Charmer...

- Wha'? Wha'?

- Now, listen to me, boys...

- I thought it was funny.

This is the plan.

First thing we do in the country,

we piss up the trees, mark our territory.

Then we're gonna find a pub and drink

till we've forgotten how to speak.

We'll communicate in grunts like

cavemen, until we pass out in the woods.

Any questions?

- Are you Michael? I'm the driver.

- Hey, she's the driver!

Wanna see my driver's license?

Uh...

That's Mikey,

the little squirt sitting there.

I'm Neil. What's your name, babe?

I can tell you now it's not "babe".

It's gonna be a long drive, isn't it?

Looks like it's heading that way,

don't it?

I tell you what, let's start again.

- My name's Neil.

- My name's Ruth.

From now on it's Candy.

Ignore him, RUTH. He's a throwback.

He hasn't evolved properly.

Call me Candy.

Come on!

Wehey! Woo-hoo!

- Right, boys, you ready?

- Yeah!

Get on these two here, look.

A couple of right wrong 'uns.

I'll tell you what, women love me.

You got enough petrol,

babe, and all that, yeah?

- Have you called Banksy again?

- He'll show up.

He's like Mikey's missus.

You can't shake him off.

It looks nice, but it's a piece of sh*t.

- What?

- It's f***ed.

But I've only had it five minutes.

Someone's run the knackers off it.

You can't fix that with a nice paint job.

You're the one

who's getting divorced, ain't you?

Thanks for bringing it up.

There's worse things

than getting divorced.

Rape, murder, castration.

Fair enough.

What's in a weird village like Moodley

that you can't find in London?

Mikey's nan lives there.

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