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Dave Jackson:
Forty-four. Two fat whores.
Dave Jackson:
Number ten... um... stab me in the eye with a ball-point pen.
Jack Simpson:
Watch where you're going you hat wearing fool! Where did you learn to drive? On horseback?
Bernie Fowler:
I like cheese.
Stan Coombs:
And remember, this is a game of skill, touch and patience. A true revealer of character.
Jack Simpson:
All it's revealing right now is two inches of arse-crack poking out the top of my pants!
Stan Coombs:
[introducing Nance] Her name's Nance. In case your interested?
Jack Simpson:
Am not, I've got a girlfriend.
Mandy:
[walks in angrily] No you don't!
Jack Simpson:
Mandy, what are you doing here?
Mandy:
Returning your things.
[throws a pack of cigarettes into Jack's hands, Stan laughs]
Jack Simpson:
[shouting to Mandy] Better all be here!
Supervisor:
[about to review one of Jack's phone conversation] Why don't we listen into one of your calls shall we?
Jack Simpson:
Excellent Idea
Jack Simpson:
[over phone] Good afternoon, My name is Jack Simpson and you are a good-for-nothing layabout. Ha Ha!
Dave Jackson:
[over phone] Hi Jack. How's it going?
Jack Simpson:
Shithouse. I just had this idiot on the line going on and on, so i told her to blow it out her arse. Still on for later?
Dave Jackson:
Yeah.
Jack Simpson:
Okay, I'll see you at the bowls club. I told that dumbfuck supervisor I've got a migraine coming on, so I reckon I'll get the arvo off. Ha ha ha
[Supervisor stops recording]
Jack Simpson:
[sarcastically] Maybe a little long but otherwise I'd give it an... 21%
Supervisor:
Hmm. You're fired, Simpson.
[repeated lne]
Eileen:
Swear jar, Nance
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