A Special Christmas Edition Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?

# Oh, what happened to you? Whatever happened to me?

# What became of the people we used to be?

# Tomorrow's almost over Today went by so fast

# Is the only thing to look forward to the past? #

Bob, your coffee's ready. It's getting cold.

-Bob?

-I'm coming!

I made it ten minutes ago! I don't know why I bother. TOILET FLUSHES

Where's that list?

Bob, can you bring the Christmas card list?

-Yes, yes, yes!

-Well, it's 10.20. I'll never get it all done. It's murder in town on a Saturday.

Your coffee's cold. I don't know why you asked me to make it.

Thelma, you know I hate conversing when I'm in the lavatory.

-Where's the list?

-What list?

-The Christmas card list! Oh, never mind!

The lavatory is a very private thing.

-But you're in there for hours, Bob!

-Only on Saturdays!

A man's entitled to linger in the lav on Saturday!

Saturday's the one day we can do things together!

You're not coming in there WITH me!

You knew I wanted an early start. I've got more presents to buy this year. What shall we get your mother?

-Get her something for the house.

-That's your stock answer!

-It isn't.

I must get little Angela next door something. ..An-gela.

She's very into dolls, isn't she?

Get something for the dolls' house!

Sorry, darling. Only a joke.

-Do you intend keeping that beard for Christmas?

-What?

-Do you?

-Who d'you want to give it to?

-I could give it to your mother!

-It's her I'm thinking of. It upsets her.

-I want Christmas Day to be nice.

-Is she coming for Christmas?

You never listen. We're going there.

-Oh, are we?

-We're going there all day and then to the Nortons for charades.

-Same as last year.

-Yes. Didn't you enjoy it? We had a lovely time!

-I hate that charades nonsense!

-You ARE the world's worst.

You had an easy one. "Great Expectations"! Piece of cake!

You just kick the fire and make out you're pregnant!

What did I get? "The AA Continental Handbook"!

-You shouldn't have done continental as one word.

-I did a great mime!

-What did you do?

-Continental - Maurice Chevalier...ho-hon-ho-hon!

-Hope you won't be as boring at the Nortons.

-I wasn't. I was bored!

-I'm surprised we're asked back!

-Christmas night, I want to watch the box.

"The Great Escape" is usually on.

We'll have to give the Nortons something. I'll add them to the list. It never stops!

-Will you drink that?

-It's cold!

-I'm not making fresh.

-Fine.

-Are you ready?!

-Yes!

I've only got to put my shoes on.

-Are you buying Terry a present?

-I suppose so!

-He never gets you one.

-Yes, he does! He got me a goldfish in 1962.

It was in a bowl and everything!

If he'd put water in, it might've lived!

I'll add him, but I think it's crazy.

He won that goldfish by throwing three darts in cards at a fair.

I wonder how long it'd been dead.

Me mam used the bowl for homemade chutney.

-You haven't seen Terry since Easter!

-Hardly.

What'll you get him? I want to get it done!

What do you buy the man who has nothing?

You know that leather goods shop opposite the bus station?

They have men's travelling manicure sets.

A manicure set? For Terry?!

That's like getting Gordon Honeycombe a set of silver hair brushes!

All right, Terry's your department.

-Oh, I want invitation cards!

-For what?

-Drinks on Boxing Day morning.

-As long as it's early morning.

-Not too early, why?

There's a match Boxing Day morning. It's traditional.

But we agreed we'd have people in then.

-Did you?

-Well, Christmas Eve clashed with Dan and Kathleen's fancy dress party.

-Fancy DRESS?!

-Oh, Bob, you never listen to anything I say!

Remember? I said you weren't going as Maurice Chevalier!

Oh, THAT fancy dress at Dan and Kathleen's.

All these things have got to be thought about - cards, presents. There's so much to get through!

I know, Thelma, and it's only September 28th!

I think we've done very well. It's only half past four.

-Another ten minutes and the game's over.

-You can miss a game for once.

-Just think, everything's bought.

-Just in time, too(!)

I can get a few odds and ends any time.

-Thelma, there's Terry. Look.

-What?

-Look. In a car, driving.

-Heavens, yes.

Hello, kidda.

Hello, Bob. Not now, eh?

Whose car is that? Your friend's?

Do us a favour, will yer, Bob? Get stuffed.

-Oh, THAT'S nice(!) Did you hear that, Thelma?

-Let's not have a coarse argument.

-What's up wi' you?!

-I'm on my driving test.

-You what?

-I'm taking me driving test!

-ENGINE STALLS

He's taking his driving test!

-I never knew he'd had any lessons!

-You put him off. Look, he's stalled.

ENGINE STARTS

That's not nice. He's taking his test. Oh, here he comes.

Sorry. We must've put you off.

Friend of mine. Haven't seen him for a while.

-How's he doing?

-Just lay off, will yer?!

It was our fault he stalled. You won't knock marks off?

See, I'VE stalled now! And I've been driving for years!

Don't forget, make those hand signals very clear.

I came to see how you got on. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to put you off. It was just such a surprise.

-Never mind. Not many people pass their test first go.

-I did.

-You what?

-I passed. No thanks to you and Thelma, but.

I'm amazed! I mean, well done. Congratulations.

-I'll buy you a pint.

-All right.

-Can I drive?

-What? You drive?

-I passed my test. Just to the Black Horse.

-ENGINE STARTS

-Right, where's first?

-The clutch can be fierce.

HE REVS THE ENGINE

Two pints, Jack, please.

-Maniac!

-Who?

-You! Licence for five minutes, think you own the road!

Just got a move on. You drive like Mary Poppins, always have done.

I drive with due care and attention towards other road users.

He's given you a licence to kill!

I have attained the standards required.

-Sup up. How much, Jack?

-No, it's my shout.

-Cheers.

I'm drinking to your new status.

You're crafty. I didn't know you were having lessons.

-I haven't seen you.

-You only have to use a phone!

You were on holiday and I was away and...you know how it is.

You've changed, you know.

-I was beginning to think you'd never notice.

-What is it?

-My eye shadow!

No, I noticed that earlier. There's something else.

-I've just seen it! When did you grow that?

-Probably while you were having secret driving lessons!

Come on, get all the remarks over with.

-It looks good.

-Pardon?

-It suits you.

-Oh.

-Thelma like it?

Quite. Her mother doesn't. But I don't like HER moustache!

-Makes you look more...er...you know.

-That's what Penny said at the office.

-Who?

-You know!

-I was going out with a Penny.

-Mmm?

-Was her taught us to drive.

-Lucky finding a girl wi' a car. Not many lasses have their own.

Not so much a girl, more a woman - 27.

-Women have cars.

-And husbands?

-Aye, one of them.

-You're not...!

No, no. They're separated.

-I see.

-As good as.

-What d'you mean?

He's on a tanker in the Persian Gulf! THAT'S separated!

And is the hapless mariner aware of this liaison?

-It wasn't long.

-Long enough to learn to drive!

-Aye. It was great!

-We went to this deserted airfield past Morpeth.

-I

-practised there!

-Good place for it, isn't it?

-Ideal.

After, she'd give us a driving lesson!

-I took a few official ones to learn this rubbish... Oh, I'm sorry!

-CAREFUL!

-No harm done.

-I lost me cherry!

Not before time, is it?

Pardon?!

-Nothing. Give us a cherry, Jack.

-It doesn't matter!

-You ARE cheeky!

-No harm done.

-They're not rubbish!

-What?

-Hand signals!

-Careful, pet!

-Sorry, can I...?

-Never mind!

Would you two lads like to sit?

-Rest our legs.

-Rest your arms, an' all!

-They are important.

-You don't use 'em after you've passed. Who'd drive with the window open here?

-What'll you do now?

-Get me own wheels. I'll get a car by Christmas or a job that provides one.

-A job?!

-Yeah.

-You mean, working?

You? In a JOB?

-Yes.

-What sort of job?

-There's lots of things!

-Such as?

What I wouldn't mind doing is driving a juggernaut to Belgium.

-Why Belgium?

-That's where they go!

Not always. I saw one going to North Shields!

Yes, but they go to Belgium first, don't they?

Down those autobahns. Hitchhiking frauleins and Swedish au-pair girls on their way to the south of France.

-No-one will entrust you with a juggernaut!

-Good life. No bosses, just the open road!

I can see you, jacking up a juggernaut in the rain!

-Doesn't rain much in Italy.

-We're in Italy! Sped through Switzerland!

You've seen the way I drive, kid.

They go huge distances. Yugoslavia, Turkey. You went there, didn't you?

-No.

-But you showed me the brochure.

-When we left the Elm Lodge housing estate, we WERE on our way to Turkey.

-What happened?

Venture Travel, whose brochure assured us of a holiday of a lifetime in their hands,

went bust.

-Never?

-We paid in advance, of course.

-When did they go bust?

-While we were in Luton airport!

-There was considerable speculation and confusion, so we spent three days in Luton airport.

-Dear me!

-It's why I grew a beard.

-Why?

There's nothing else to do in Luton! It's not Europe's fun capital. Eric Morecambe's wrong.

-So you went straight home?

-Would that we had!

We rented a car to see some of the beauties of our countryside,

starting with the nature of Bedfordshire.

-Which was closed!

-Closed?

-It was Sunday! And we never found Woburn Abbey!

-Isn't it full of lions and baboons?

-We'll never know. I foolishly followed an "alternative route".

You'll soon learn to ignore signs which say that.

It turned out to be Newport Pagnell, where we spent Sunday night.

It was a TERRIBLE night!

It's not easy to gee your wife up in a motorway motel,

knowing you should be eating figs by the Bosphorus.

-What's the Bosphorus?

-It's a river. A river in Turkey.

-The Bosphorus! Isn't it?

-I'll tell you when I'm there in me juggernaut!

-We won't get our money back.

-For your holiday?

-No chance!

And you should have seen Thelma this morning, Christmas shopping!

-In SEPTEMBER?!

-She doesn't like leaving things.

Dear me!

I don't want a present, mind. I'm not sending cards or presents this year.

What do you mean, THIS year?! You never do!

-What?

-I've not had a present from you since 1962!

-And that was just a goldfish.

-JUST a goldfish(!)

That's a canny present to give anyone - their own pet!

-How is he?

-How IS he?! He was dead on arrival!

Maybe I shouldn't have had him gift-wrapped!

-Hey, can I drive back?

-No.

-Oh, go on!

-No!

You're a bit cocky at the moment. That's just the time you'll have an accident.

And you're not having one in MY car!

I may drive like Mary Poppins, but I have a scratch-free car and a no-claims bonus to show for it!

YOU LEFT IT IN REVERSE!

Hey!

HOOTER BLOWS

-How's it going? The job?

-Oh, come off it!

It's not what I expected, is it? The open road? The open yard!

-Why did you take it?

-There was nothing else!

-I thought when I got my driving licence...

-Nothing?

There were a few things, but I wanted a job where I could get the use of the vehicle.

-Weren't there any?

-No.

There was one. I only took it for a week. It wasn't the sort of vehicle to sweep a lady off her feet.

-What was it? A dust cart?

-It was an ice cream van.

An ice cream van! I should think your chances of pulling a bird in an ice cream van were WAFER thin!

-Seriously though, weren't they?

-Better than in a fork-lift truck!

At least you're bringing some money in to see you through Christmas.

-What's that to do with it?

-We all need extra at Christmas.

-I mean, it's Christmas.

-I don't. I hate Christmas.

-For me, Christmas doesn't exist.

-You always say that.

-I mean it!

It's all got out of hand. It's just one big racket.

Once upon a time, it was a meaningful and joyous occasion.

Once, there was real spirit. About the time King Wenceslaus set out.

On the feast of Stephen.

-What?

-"Good King Wenceslaus set out on the feast of Stephen".

-You'd know - you were the carol singer.

-Yes, I was.

-You didn't mind making a twit of yourself.

-No.

Traipsing round with Presbyterian ping-pong players!

-I didn't mind at all. I loved it.

-Sloppy sentimentalist!

-I know. I know.

I know, but I'd rather be a sloppy sentimentalist than a sour-faced cynic like you!

Christmas is just a confidence trick by big business and department store owners.

Look at people like your Thelma shopping in September!

Same again and two shorts. People over-eat, over-spend and over-sentimentalise!

I know, and I love every minute of it!

Even the terrible things I love.

I love last-minute shopping, trying to find your car, which you couldn't park

and is now covered in Yuletide parking tickets.

That's OK.

I love spending too much, wearing daft hats, being nice to deaf Uncle Billy.

I love watching bad movies like "Son of Sinbad" with Tony Curtis.

I don't mind Leslie Crowther in a children's ward.

Good God!

I love eating too much Christmas pud and mince pies and tangerines

and dates in boxes with "Eat Me" on the lid.

And I like everything cleared away by five to three so we can watch the Queen's Commonwealth Address.

-The Queen!

-And good King Wenceslaus!

-If you say so.

It's a double! I can't stay long.

Isn't part of Christmas mellowing over a Yule noggin with a mate?

We're stirring the pudding tonight.

You know, when we were at school, you were the last in the class to admit there wasn't a Santa Claus.

-Yes, and WHO was it told me there wasn't?!

-It was for your own good.

You were 15!

I was six! I remember the day vividly - Christmas Eve afternoon.

I was sitting reading Lord Snooty out of the Christmas Beano annual.

I'd got it early cos I'd been crying with a boil on me neck.

Not a worry in the world, except how Santa would get a fire engine down our chimney.

Then you show up,

with an evil malicious grin on your face,

and you say Santa Claus is dead!

I did not say that. I said he'd never been alive to begin with.

You said he'd been gored by his reindeer!

Well, you had to know sometime. I'd known since August!

QUITE! You knew in August, but you waited till Christmas Eve to tell me!

Even then you were filled with spite!

Webb told me. Mind I'd suspected it the year before when me Mam said Santa was bringing us a fort

and in November, I'd found it!

I needed Santa Claus more than you, being an only child.

Your house was always full of raucous revelry.

My mother and I spent Christmas quietly with Uncle Billy and that aunt who smelt of camphorated oil.

-There won't be much revelry this year.

-You'll be with your folks?

-They're going to our Linda.

-You'll go too, though?

-No, I wasn't asked.

You don't need to be asked. She's your sister!

Linda's got her own life - three kids and an idiot husband!

-What about your Audrey, then?

-She doesn't want me round there, does she?

That's AWFUL! Normally you could come to us, but we're at Thelma's mother's.

I'm quite happy on me own. I don't want to go anywhere.

-It's Christmas Day!

-As it doesn't exist in my book, what's the difference?

-What'll you do, then?

Do? I'll have a good lie-in, go to the Fat Ox for a game of doms,

pull a cracker and open some luncheon meat.

That's terrible! Pathetic. Pulling a cracker with no-one at the other end.

Doesn't bother me. I just wait for Boxing Day and a semblance of normality. Newcastle v Carlisle.

-As I say, normally you could come...

-I'm all right. I can manage.

-Just like tonight.

-What do you mean, tonight?

Well, you're not staying. You're off home to stir your pudding!

-There's no mad rush.

-Aye, well...

-Same again, Jack.

-Doubles?

-Well...

-Certainly doubles! I got doubles in!

-..Oh, fine.

But after this one, I must definitely go.

DRUNKEN SINGING # Good King Wenceslaus looked out of his bedroom window

# Silly basket, he fell out on a red-hot cinder

# Brightly shone his bum that night though the frost was cruel... #

I'm not driving, mind.

-I might be drunk, but I'm not irresponsible.

-Quite right. Quite right.

-I'll drive.

-No way. I'm not giving you the keys. That WOULD be irresponsible.

-I'll walk, or stagger home.

-It's four miles! Give us the keys.

There's no way the keys are leaving my hand!

Oh, God!

Get me home, Terry.

Don't worry, kidda, I'll get you home.

ENGINE ROARS

ENGINE DROWNS THEIR DRUNKEN SINGING

Bob, are you all right?

Oh, there you are. Praying won't help.

I'm locked out!

Bob?

Bob?

Bob?

Too far, you fool!

Oh, sorry, sir. Going down.

Underwear, soft furnishings, surgical appliances.

Bob?

-Bob?

-WHAT? WHAT?!

Don't say "what" like that! It's five to eight and you ordered a minicab for 8.00.

I can't find me earrings!

I told you, I'VE got them! He never listens to anything I say.

-Well, where are they?!

-They're here.

Sit down, I'll put them on for you.

-OW! That hurts!

-Don't be such a baby!

-There.

-This hook's no good! Should've got a real hook from the butcher's.

You can't go with a real hook. You shouldn't wear your cutlass.

-I should've had a parrot.

-Captain Hook didn't have one.

There. Oh, you look very good.

-People will know you're Captain Hook. Will they know I'm Peter Pan?

-Of course!

This is a nothing outfit. I could be a pixie or an elf.

-What's wrong with that?

-I want people to know I'm Peter Pan.

Well, fly in through the window(!)

Like you did last week, I suppose?

-We'd agreed that subject was closed.

-Don't make rude remarks and it will be.

-Don't fight. It IS Christmas Eve.

-DOORBELL >

That'll be the cab. I'll nip upstairs.

-Bob?

-Terry? Come in, come in.

It's OK, Thelma, it's only Terry.

I...er...I haven't interrupted anything, have I?

How do you mean?

Well, you know, you read about these things. Those aren't your work clothes.

-We're going to a fancy dress party! I'm Captain Hook!

-Oh, I see, I see! Yes, 'ey, that's very good!

-Shouldn't you have a parrot?

-He didn't have one.

How's things with Thelma after...you know?

-They've been...you know, but everything's...you know, now.

-Good.

-I lost me job.

-How?

-I didn't wake up and the fork-lift was missed.

-I'm sorry. Christmas week, an' all.

-Doesn't bother me. Got another job.

-Hello, Terry. Merry Christmas.

-Hello, Thelma, pet. My, that's a canny little outfit!

You an elf or a pixie?

-She's Peter Pan! ANYONE can see that!

-We'd offer you a drink, but we're just off.

-Not when I'm driving.

-You're driving?

-I'm your minicab!

-We arranged with your firm to be picked up.

-I know.

-Will it be you?

-Probably.

-We'll settle up then, if you like?

-If you like.

Right, two o'clock. We won't keep you waiting.

-All right.

-Come along, Bob.

..Go on.

-Have a good night.

-You, too. Oh, silly.

No, don't worry about me. Enjoy yourselves.

Excuse me!

Thank you.

- Andrea, have you seen Bob? - I've no idea, pet. What is he?

- Captain Hook. - Oh, that was him, was it?

'Scuse me!

Oh, I'm SORRY!

< POP!

Bob?

Bob?!

-Hello, darling.

-Who have you got in here?

-What?

-Why was the door locked?

-No, there's a knack to it.

-Are you with Sylvia Braithwaite?

-Joan of Arc?

-Yes, your ex.

-You could say, one of my old FLAMES!

You COULD say!

-She was with Hereward the Wake.

-He's fast asleep on the staircase!

-What makes you think I'D be with Sylvia?!

-That punch goes straight to your loins!

And you go on the prowl.

-This party's getting out of hand. They always do!

-I know!

Happily married couples, as soon as the lights go down, swap partners and start that buttock-clutching!

Brenda Boyle's next door with Nina Smith's husband - what's his name?

-Rasputin?

-Yes. I don't know what Brenda's Alan would think!

HE'S in the shed with Marie Antoinette!

Sorry!

-'EE!

-Well, I hope we don't end up like this.

Mind you, darling, you were on the dance floor for a long time with the tiger.

-That was only Eric.

-I bet your bottom is covered in claw marks!

Well, he's an animal, Eric.

-You see. You shouldn't go round with aspersions about me.

-Sorry.

-What WERE you doing in here?

-I'll tell you...Thelma...

I...I was looking out the window!

-Because HE'S there!

-Who?

-Terry. Look!

-He's early. That's not our fault.

-That's not the point!

Look at that little hunched figure in a gabardine mac! And it's Christmas Eve! It's just so sad.

It's embarrassing him driving us, not sad.

-He wanted to work over Christmas.

-Should I tip him?

-I've no idea! Well, I suppose so.

-It's so embarrassing!

-Come down. We'll miss the hot dogs.

-Perhaps we should ask him in for one?

-All right.

-I'm going to the bathroom. I'll see you downstairs.

-Behave yourself!

You can come out now, Sylvia.

-Are you all right?

-Terrific(!) Rotten book and the heater's bust!

-You're early.

-I know! At your convenience, sir! Enjoy yourself!

I'm not enjoying myself. Rotten party!

I thought perhaps you'd like to come in. Warm up.

..Go in, like?

-Yeah. You could have a hot dog.

-I'm not dressed for it.

-'Course you are! Say you've come as a minicab driver.

-Hot dogs, eh?

-Yeah, and lots of crumpet!

-Right!

-Howay, then?

-Think I'll get a breath of fresh air. All that punch, you know.

Oh. All right, then.

You can come out now, Sylvia.

Terry, would you please take me home?

-Sure.

-Sorry if you're eating.

No, you're entitled. Where's Bob?

-I'm not waiting for him. You can come back, if you like.

-Where is he?

God alone knows. I found his cutlass in the bathroom, but... You haven't seen him?

-Not since he asked me in.

-I KNOW who he's with and what he's up to!

-Who IS he with?

-Sylvia Braithwaite. She's Joan of Arc. I don't know where they can be!

Have you tried the top of the bonfire?

< FOOTSTEPS

No, I'll sit in the front. It's warmer.

-Well, come in.

-It's a bit late, Thelma.

-Have a hot drink or something.

-All right.

-A proper drink? It's your last job.

-Unless I go for Bob.

I'd rather you didn't. Let him walk home!

-In them boots?

-Serve him right.

-Oh, well, in that case...Scotch?

Oh, good. Here, you might as well have your present.

-I told you not to get me a present!

-Oh, merry Christmas!

-You're driving me home!

-I can't do that.

-I am NOT walking home!

-It's not my cab...car...cab.

-Your wife asked him in. He'll be there half hour!

-RIGHT!

-Where are you going?

-It's a minicab, isn't it? I'M going to get the driver!

-I'll drive you home!

What a terrible time I've had!

On the floor, under coats, in a flower bed!

I've been bent double all night!

Oh, shut up!

-'EY!

-What is it?

-Somebody's stolen me cab!

We've found the stolen minicab SHN439F abandoned at the corner of Preston Road.

Unable to apprehend the driver. He ran off over this waste ground.

DOG GROWLS

-Shall I open this?

-It is Christmas Day.

You shouldn't have bothered, you know. I wasn't expecting it. I said to Bob, "I don't want..."

Look at them!

Driving gloves!

-It seemed appropriate. We didn't know what to get.

-They really are very nice!

-You make me feel rotten now!

-Oh, no...

-If it was up to me, I'd let you off the fare.

-Oh, Terry, how much is it?

-I mean, if it was me own car...

-No, no, what do we owe you?

-Normally, it would be £5 both ways, like.

But as one was after midnight, it's £6.50.

Plus 75 pence waiting time.

It IS Christmas, but that's entirely up to the individual.

I'm afraid I've nothing smaller.

Oh, I don't think I'VE got anything.

Never mind. As you say, it IS Christmas.

A very handsome gratuity, Thelma. I appreciate the gloves, an' all.

-You'll need those for the job.

-The job won't last. I've lost the cab!

-Hardly your fault.

-I shouldn't have left the keys in it. My rotten luck! After I'd behaved, an' all!

Unlike some. DOORBELL RINGS >

Guess who. FRANTIC KNOCKING

-Thelma, I've had to run...I mean, walk all the way!

-Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas(!) Why did you leave without me?!

Don't look at me. I do as I'm told!

-Thelma?

-I'm amazed that you noticed I'd gone.

-I searched high and low for you!

-Oh yes?

-I only stepped out for some air!

-Didn't you see me step outside?

-Well, yes...yes, that's true.

-It was the punch!

I wandered round the garden till my head felt better.

There was no sign of you, NOR of the tiger!

-Bob, I assumed...

-Obviously! You're very quick to jump to assumptions, Thelma!

-Thanks for the present, kidda. Good fit.

-What? Oh, right, good. Happy Christmas!

-You WEREN'T with Sylvia Braithwaite?

-Thelma, what is the point?

If you've got it into your head, what can I say?! I've got nothing to hide.

-TYRES SQUEAL

-'Ey up, there's a car outside.

-Oh, good! It's the police.

-What?!

-Must be to do with Terry's car. It was stolen.

-I'll get out of these clothes.

I'll let them in.

-Mr Collier?

-Oh, yes, he's through there.

-Mr Collier?

-Aye.

-We've got you a Christmas box.

-You've found it?

-Aye.

-By, that's quick!

Must've been a joyrider. Enough about.

-Did you get him?

-No, he scarpered when he saw us coming.

-Just a kid?

-Hard to tell in the dark, like.

All's well that ends well.

-Like a drink?

-It is Christmas.

-Good lad.

-What would you like?

-Brown ale, pet.

-Terry, would you get it?

-Certainly!

-Bob?

-WHAT?!

-Come on down!

-Why?

-We're having a Christmas drink!

-Oh, good, you've got it.

-Well, cheers, mate. You've got me out of the clouds tonight.

I'll run you down to the station to pick your cab up.

Don't you need to look for clues?

Oh, we found a clue, aye.

We found...THIS on the back seat.

Well, happy Christmas!