Man Up Page #6

And then in our pants.

So, Hilary, what is it that you...

What do you do for a living?

I'm an account manager

at a leading PR firm.

Mind-blowing. And you, Ed?

- I'm a merchant banker.

- Interesting fact.

"Merchant banker" is

cockney rhyming slang for "wanker".

Oh, for f***'s sake, Jack.

It's a fact. I'm just saying.

I'm not lying.

- It's been a year.

- It's OK, Hil.

It's not the first time

I've heard that one.

- First time I've heard it.

- I'm unaffected by it, so...

And it's been more than a year,

actually, Hilary. It's been 368 days.

Not that I'm crossing it off on

my wall calendar of pain and deceit.

I need a piss.

Oh, f***! Sh*t.

- Oh, sh*t.

- Hey...

Hey, don't worry, Baby Cakes. This was

bound to happen sooner or later.

He does this. It's kind of blackmail.

He's a very emotional man.

We're gonna need more nibbles, please.

So...

...question.

- You two had an affair?

- We fell in love.

Yeah, but you had an affair?

- The marriage was over anyway.

- But you had an affair?

- Yeah.

- I guess he is just an emotional man.

Look, I'm sorry, Hilary.

- The truth is...

- I missed you, Big Nuts.

So what rating

are you two rabbits on now?

- Rating?

- Yeah, sexually speaking?

Because Jack and I, God,

we're still in porno land really.

Porno land?

- Hm-hmm. Shall I explain?

- Please do.

OK. You know when a woman

first starts sleeping with a man,

she acts like a porn star.

Am I right? Jack and I, anything goes.

Church of Lesbyterian, dinner beneath

the bridge, guided tour of site B,

if you know where that is. He knows.

Remember when you said we should

and I was like, "I'm not gonna do that."

- You said, "Go on, try it."

- Did I?

And I was just thinking, "I'm actually

quite scared," because I couldn't see.

Then, God, you flipped it.

And all of a sudden...

God, I felt like, "Please don't stop."

"Jack, please don't stop. Don't stop,

Jack. Do what you do, Jack."

"Thank you, Jack.

I love your work, Jack."

And you lot are like, "Wow, our sex life

is always gonna be like a porn film."

Six months in, the ladies,

we drop it down to an 18,

and then a 15, maybe a quick 69

but only if we've just had a bath.

And then suddenly, whoa, we're a PG-13

wearing tartan pyjamas to bed

doing the goodnight rollover before

you can say "missionary position".

That is a brilliant theory.

Thank you. But do you know what, Jack?

I really feel

like we're gonna be in porno land

for a lot longer than usual.

- I have a theory, too.

- Yeah? What is it?

If you get a woman back to your place

and you say you don't wanna have sex,

you just wanna take it slowly,

I guarantee she will go down on you.

- The Blow Job Paradox.

- Blow Job Paradox!

- Yeah! "Use it, don't abuse it."

- If divorce papers were honest,

they wouldn't say

"irreconcilable differences".

- They'd say "not enough blow jobs".

- Not enough blowj*bs!

Like, get down there, fix it.

Sorry to interrupt. Did you

get a chance to sign those papers?

Yes, I did, actually, Hilary. In fact,

coincidentally, I have them with me.

Although, stupid Jack,

I signed them with a pen.

You'd probably prefer it

if I did it with my own blood.

Hey, this is our song. We should dance.

It's very special. Isn't that mad?

Don't f***ing touch me.

- Yay.

- What are you doing?

Stopping you from making

a twat of yourself

by using the medium of dance. Hello.

I'm gonna slow-dance you

into submission, OK?

You'll need to put your arms around

my waist for it to work properly. Good.

- I'm such a dick.

- You're not. You're not a dick.

It's always better

to be the one that's dumped.

You never regret anything.

She made the decision.

She's gotta live with that

for the rest of her life.

- It's not as simple as that, is it?

- But it will be. it just takes time.

- Your hands are slipping down my arse.

- Sorry. Old habit.

Everybody knew they were doing it.

Nobody told me.

It's rough. I'll admit it's rough.

I was really traditional about

the whole "don't sleep around

when you're married" thing.

Hands-arse. That's right.

I bet you proposed

on the top of a Tuscan hill.

Cephalonian, actually.

Spent a year planning your big day.

- Twenty grand, all in?

- Bit more.

- Let's not forget the ring.

- It was four grand.

And we had to get it resized

because she got awfully thin.

You spent 24,000

on a party and some jewellery?

It was a grand gesture.

What's the point of life

if you're not up for stuff like that?

A grand gesture that amounted

to nothing. Hands-arse.

- God, you're such a f***ing cynic.

- And you're such a f***ing romantic.

You put so much emphasis on that one day

and forget about the rest of your life.

What's wrong with having a big day?

Look at your parents.

I bet they had a party and guests

and a wishing tree.

Six guests. Local registry office.

Drinks at the pub afterwards.

They decided it was more important

to concentrate on the promises

they were making.

Don't you think that's what I wanted?

When you get married,

you make a promise you can't keep,

but, by God, I was gonna try,

and I'll never regret that.

Which is more than you can say,

sat up there on your single perch

with all your judgements.

Why-y-y-y-y don't you use it

Try-y-y-y-y not to bruise it

Buy-y-y-y-y time, don't lose it

They're not judgements,

they're theories.

- Very different things.

- Whatever.

The reflex is an only child

Just waiting by the park

The reflex is in charge of finding

Treasure in the dark

And watching over lucky clover

Isn't that bizarre?

Every little thing the reflex does

Leaves you answered

with a question mark

- You know your problem, Nancy?

- What?

You spend your entire time on the

sidelines theorising about what works,

but never putting yourself out there.

You never take chances.

I think my actions today

could be considered quite "chancy".

- Oh, really?

- Yeah.

You need to man up. I married that

woman and she tore out my heart

but I'm still standing.

I'm still putting myself out there.

And who are you to say

that my marriage was doomed?

Who are you to say

that the girl I met tonight,

the girl I was supposed to meet tonight,

wasn't the girl of my dreams?

You need to let me get on

with my sad single-man life crisis

and keep your cynical wisecracks

and theories to yourself. OK?

Why-y-y-y

why-y-Y-y

Why-y-y-y

Hi. Sorry. I'm not looking.

Just... looking for Jack.

- Jack, are you in here?

- No.

Come on.

Just go to your party,

Nancy, I'm fine.

- You're fine?

- Yeah, I'm really f***ing fine.

Occupied!

Sorry. You didn't lock. Didn't lock.

Hi.

I was hoping

for the pants-and-socks look.

Nice place you got. It's really cosy.

Sorry.

I've had a bad relationship run

over the past few years

and so it's made me

not the most positive person.

I overanalyse and I...

...come up with elaborate theories and

make monumentally bad decisions and...

I've gotta move on, you know,

that's all.

She's out there, she's happy.

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