[Two men sit at a bench]
Fred: Here again?
BOB: Yes! Where else can i be?
FRED: Home?
BOB: And for you....home?
FRED: No! You know why?
BOB: The same reason as me.
FRED: Yep!
BOB: To escape the Warpath!
FRED: Me? The Volcano!
BOB: A She devil in disguise.
FRED: More jekyll than hyde.
BOB: Bloody Nappies?
FRED: Damn washing powder!
pause.
BOB: Are we men anymore?
FRED: That's what she said to me.
BOB: You do the honourable thing....
FRED: And suddenly you're no good for the bedroom.
BOB: [Imitating her voice] keep it tidy.
FRED: [Follows accordingly] Stock up the fridge with wine
BOB: I prepared some nouvelle cuisine.
FRED: Not good enough.
BOB: Got it in one.
FRED: What was it?
BOB: Spaghetti bolagnaise.
FRED: That's hard.
BOB: Well! It's not Bacon and beans.
FRED: Mine's even watching the football.
BOB: Where as mine plays rugby.
FRED: With you?
BOB: Got the bruises to prove it.
FRED: Who'll be a house husband?
BOB: It's a fate worse than death.
FRED: Better get back.
BOB: Same too.
FRED: Same time tomorrow.
BOB: Depends?
FRED: Mine's threatening to go drinking with the girls.
BOB: Oh! Good luck.
FRED: Cheers. Its murder clearing curry off the walls.
BOB: Try donar kebabs.
[They both leave.]
BOB:
FRED:
FRED:
