Personal Services Page #4

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- How could you do this to me?

- How could you bring a sexual pervert

to your sister's wedding?

- Who?

- Who? Who do you think?

Dolly's not a pervert, are you, Dolly?

You think it's normal,

a man prancing round in a woman's skirt?

- I didn't know she was a man.

- I'm not a man.

Just leave, the pair of you. I can handle this.

- Oh, poor little Lizzie.

- I knew you'd cause trouble!

You're disgusting! I hope I never see you again!

- Oh, thank you, Elizabeth.

- You've spoilt everything.

- Don't upset yourself.

- Ever since I was born!

- Can you hear this?

- I hate you!

It's us that needs protecting...

from her mouth.

That's enough.

Just stand clear when she opens her gob.

- Right. Just one moment.

- Steady, Edgar.

I was against this from the start.

Now I know I was right.

- This is my brother-in-law.

- Christine...

If I was on duty and in uniform,

I'd take a very serious view of this.

But you are in uniform.

It's no use, Edgar,

she's always been like this.

- Charges can be brought.

- Oh, dear.

- Dolly, don't be a silly cow.

- Where are you going?

The toilet. I need a wee.

Stay out of the ladies lavatory...

and the gents.

You piddle where you want.

Is there a handicapped toilet?

You stay out of all toilets.

Stupid fart!

This is a very silly conversation.

And you are a very naughty boy.

And you know what happens to naughty boys,

now, don't you?

Come along, Dolly. You too, Christine.

David!

What's all the rush, doll?

I was just beginning to enjoy myself.

What's going on?

Excuse me, is this your car?

It's not bloody stole, if that's what you mean.

Cheeky bugger.

Dad.

Dad. Come here, Dad.

I'm sorry, Dad, I really am.

When I came here today I was happy.

I really was.

Come on. Don't be like this, Dad.

Don't upset yourself.

It's your day today too, you know.

I'd do anything to make you happy.

I'm so sorry.

Come on.

I'm sorry.

Kiss me a kiss and say you love me.

You spoilt it for her. How could you do it?

- She spoilt it for herself.

- What do you mean?

Look who she married.

- There you go again.

- Oh, come on, Dad.

He's a box of farts and well you know it.

- You can't say that.

- I just have.

It's a respectable marriage.

He's a... he's a police superintendent

and a Freemason.

He's a bumhole, Dad. A fart in a box.

And he doesn't hang around

with sexual perverts.

- How do you know?

- Listen to your mouth. You should be ashamed.

- Well, I'm not.

- That's what's wrong with you.

Dad.

I'm not a bloody baby any more.

That's what's wrong with Lizzie.

I'm a woman. I've had babies and abortions.

- Abortions?

- Yes.

Why didn't you tell me? Abortions?

Why didn't you tell me?

None of your bloody business. When I said

I was up the duff, you spat in my face.

- That was different.

- How many bastards can one girl take?

How can you talk like that? He's your son.

And you're telling me that, are you?

- You've noticed, have you? You do surprise me.

- What's that supposed to mean?

You know what I mean. You've not so much

as looked at him since we got here.

- No.

- You've not looked at him for 14 years.

- No.

- You've not looked at him, not spoke to him.

Not a hello, not so much as a whisper.

You make me feel like nothing.

- What do you think I've been doing all day?

- He's your grandson.

- This is your sister's wedding.

- He's your only grandson.

- How many pups are that pair going to spawn?

- At least they'll have a father.

God, Dad, you're such a liar.

Look at you.

You're such a bloody liar.

Mum would never have treated me like this.

The news would have killed her...

if she hadn't been dead already.

She'd have slammed the door in your face.

I'm a prostitute.

There.

Spread that round the Freemasons.

Your daughter is a tart.

On the game.

Spread that round the next Lodge meeting.

I'd be glad of the custom.

My friend Shirley, my best friend Shirley,

is a tart.

And so am I.

And Dolly, our best friend Dolly,

is a prostitute's maid.

Always someone else's daughter, eh?

Don't you call my boy a bastard again.

He's my son... and I love him.

You silly bugger!

I can't hear you!

Can you hear me?

Oh, hello!

Yes. Yes!

It's hot.

Yes.

I've got a bit of a rash.

A rash!

There's bodies everywhere. Disgusting.

Hello?

Oh, pillocks.

Shirley?

Dolly?

Oh, sod it.

Out.

Out.

Come out!

What have we here?

- Can you keep it down a minute, Mac?

- Sorry.

Now... what have we here, Auntie Christine?

- I've been a naughty boy.

- What? Speak up!

- I've been a naughty boy, Nana.

- Ha!

Another naughty boy, eh?

The world is full of naughty schoolboys.

What's the naughty boy done?

I was late for school.

What?

Did you hear that, Auntie Christine?

Late for school.

This is very serious, Auntie Christine.

I'm sorry, Nana.

What does Nana do to little boys...

who are late for school?

Tell me... what does she do?

- Gives them a smack, Nana.

- Correct.

Where?

Where does she smack them?

- On their bot-bots.

- On their bot-bots.

Yes.

Every naughty boy gets a smack...

on his bot-bot.

Over.

- Bend over.

- Yes, Nana.

- Right over.

- Yes.

Please don't leave any marks.

Say thank you to Nana.

Thank you, Nanny.

You...

are a disgusting...

little... bugger!

Oh, this is lovely.

All schoolgirls together.

No boys.

Just girls. All together.

Christine, if you ever need legal advice...

Lionel's an excellent barrister,

aren't you, Lionel?

Oh, yes.

Oh, have you seen these dirty books

those teachers have left lying around?

"Sex On Lesbos".

Oh.

It makes me come over all lesbian.

Me too.

She's got nice legs.

So have you.

Hasn't she got nice legs?

Lovely.

I think she must be a lesbian...

just like us.

- You're a lesbian, aren't you?

- Yes.

Yes, I am.

Me too.

What lovely legs she's got.

Oh, I love being a lesbian, don't you?

Yes. Yes, I do.

- Me too.

- Polly Parrot.

- Popozogolou?

- Popozogolou.

Him.

Sad and hopeless. Comes in his cocoa

before he's got the plonker on.

Don't look it.

What about him?

- Which one?

- By the door.

Bent as a box of frogs, dear.

- Looks nice.

- Maybe he is. I don't know.

Most men don't like sex that much.

Can't wait to get it over.

They're only after one thing.

If they didn't want it, we'd be out of a job.

I didn't say want, Christine, I said like.

I said they didn't like it.

- What about your Ron?

- Enjoys a good cuddle, just like me.

Oh, my God.

Let me out, let me out.

- Wasp up her bum.

- Ta.

Oh, bumholes.

I left my butter in the fridge at the flat.

I'll get you some.

- Madam's got a fancy man.

- Oh, sit down and shut up.

- Yes, lady.

- What are you having tonight?

Fillet steak, mangetout

and a bottle of Beaujolais.

I've got a date.

I've got a date.

That lot can go to the jumble.

How does she do it?

Shirley.

How can she do the two?

What about Ron? What does he think?

That's their business.

He's so good-looking, Dolly. And charming.

He's got such a gentle look in his eye.

Do you know what I mean?

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