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[Jeff is giving Steve tips before his first date with Susan. Susan and Sally have walked into the bar behind Jeff without his knowledge
: OK, foreplay tip number two.
[Steve sees Sally and Susan and looks horrified
: Whoever you normally fantasize about during sex, start calling them 'Susan.' With you, it's always Mariella Frostrup, right?
[Steve smiles awkwardly at Susan
: Well, call her 'Susan Frostrup'! That way, when you're in bed with Susan, you won't shout the wrong name when you have your eyes shut! Susan
: Or you could call her 'God.' Jeff
: [not realizing
] Well, yeah, I mean, that'd work.
[realizes, turns around and chuckles nervously
: [coming around the table
] So is it absolutely necessary to think about somebody else? Jeff
: Well, everybody does. That's why there are so many celebrity marriages. Sally
: I'm sorry? Jeff
: Eh? Well, you know, if - if you fantasize about someone else during sex, and so does your partner, and, you know, those two people that you're fantasizing about happen to meet while you're still doing it, they're bound to sense something, aren't they? Because they're connecting on, like, a virtual plane. So can you imagine what it was like when Posh first met Beckham? They were the epicenter of a non-stop, nationwide virtual shag! Ehh!
[does his hand thing
: I mean, it's no wonder she got pregnant!
: When the van comes for you, Jeff, go quietly. Jeff
] ... OK.
: You know what "I'll cook" says? It says, "Let's have sex." Susan
: No, that would be, "Come and spend the night with me." Sally
: "Come and spend the night with me" says, "Let's have sex." "I'll cook" says, "Let's have sex and I'll cater."
: Do you find your batteries always run out quickly? Steve
: I've never had any complaints.
: [she and Steve are about to make love together for the first time
] Let's get squelchy!
: Sally, does it ever occur to you that age brings wisdom and greater confidence? Sally
: Susan, age brings you more to *shave*.
: [Everyone is waiting for Susan to show her breast
] You know what? I *am* going to do this. I'm going to do this to show you how low, pathetic, and desperate you've all become! Jeff
: Result! Susan
: But I want you to remember, I intend this breast satirically. Patrick
: Now there's a sentence that can't come up too often.
: In the event of Steve's death, the first thing I will do, upset though I will be, is go straight to his house and remove all the pornography before his parents can find it. And he's pledged to do the same for me. That's how close we are! Susan
: You guys have seriously made arrangements to destroy your dirty mags? Jeff
: Who said destroy? "Remove." Susan
: Yeah, well you wouldn't keep them... would you? Jeff
: It's a perk. Susan
: Oh, Jeff... Jeff
: That's the beauty of it, you see? Your best friend's dead, but there's a bright side!
: It's Fork Wilma... or Fork off.
: I'd like to think that the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with has a better reason for staying faithful than, "It might be a trick." Steve Taylor
: Well, it wasn't the only thing! It was just like the... deterrent. Susan
: The deterrent? Steve Taylor
: Well, yeah - you know, like nuclear weaponry. I mean, nobody likes it, but it can help to keep the peace. Susan
: Steve, you've just compared our relationship to the Cold War. Steve Taylor
: Which - may I remind you - really lasted. Susan
: So the nature of the bond between us is, in fact, the threat of mutually assured destruction? Steve Taylor
: Oh, among many other things.
: [Discussing a flirting style
] You got to admire the technique. Susan
: Very passive-aggressive. Patrick
: Very what? Susan
: It's what happens when a woman takes control of a conversation. Patrick
: What happens when a man takes control of the conversation? Susan
: I have *absolutely* no idea.
Junior Shop Assistant
: Why do girls like you always have a boyfriend? Susan Walker
: Because I have acute nymphomania and my own brewery.
: You bring these things into our homes! They sit on our chairs! They WATCH our televisions! I-I just need to know, on behalf of all men everywhere, I just need to ask, please - WHAT are they FOR? I mean, look at them! Look at the chubby little bastards sitting around everywhere! I mean, what are they? Pets for chairs?
: Come on - you sell them - what are they for? Senior Shop Assistant
: Well... you sit on them. Steve
: Ah! Hahahaha. Y'see, that's where you're wrong! Nobody sits on them. Watch this. Here's the cushion. I'm putting it on the sofa. Now, watch me - I'm sitting down and what do I do on my final approach? I - ooh! - move the cushion! See? It's not involved! It's not... PART of the whole... sitting process. It just... lies there! It's fat litter! It's a sofa parasite! Jane
: It's... y'know... padding. Steve
: Padding? Oh now, that's interesting. I like padding. Y'know, if I was, say, uh, an American Football player, y'know, all those big bastards running at me, I would say "Give me some of that padding and be quick about it!". Y'know, if my job involved bouncing down jagged rocks, I would say "In view of those jagged rocks down there, I'll have some of that padding, thank you very much". Susan, Sally, Jane, THIS... is a sofa! It is designed by clever scientists in such a way so as to shield the unprotected user from the risk of skin abrasions, serious head trauma, and, of course... DALEKS. You do not, trust me girls, trust me on this one, you do not need padding to tackle upholstery. So, please, once and for all, tell me WHY on earth you would want me to sit on one of these? Susan
: BECAUSE... if you pressed it firmly against your bottom, it might stop you TALKING!
[Captain Subtext uses his "truth helmet" to read the characters' minds
] Junior Shop Assistant
: [showing Susan some fabric patterns
] I have an enormous penis. Steve
: Actually, I've-I've got a bigger penis by far. Junior Shop Assistant
: Sorry, but my penis is staggeringly vast. Steve
: Look, I'm-I'm massively well-endowed! Senior Shop Assistant
: [taking the fabric
] I am the manager here, so *my* penis is like an enormous train, with gigantic... Susan Walker
: Oh, for God's sake!
: [hunched over the hospital bed, in labor
] Steve...! Steve
: [standing at the door, scared
] Yes darling? Susan
: [camera zooms in to her face
] Get me a FUCKING EPIDURAL!
: Fingers and toes, count them. Steve
: Yeah, he's fine. It all looks pretty average. No eyes, though.
[Susan has removed the lock from the bathroom door, and doesn't understand why Steve is so upset about it
: Men and toilets, the love that dare not speak its name. What's that about? Steve
: [slams hand down
] We are men! Throughout history, we have always needed, in times of difficulty, to retreat to our caves. It so happens that in this modern age, our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet is, for us, the last bastion, the final refuge, the last few square feet of man-space left to us! Somewhere to sit, something to read, something to do, and who gives a damn about the smell? Because that, for us, is happiness. Because we are *men.* We are different. We have only one word for soap. We do not own candles. We have never seen anything of any value in a craft shop. We do not own magazines fill of pictures of celebrities with all their clothes *on*. When we have conversations, we actually take it in turns to talk! But we have not yet reached that level of earth-shattering boredom and inhuman despair that we would have a haircut *recreationally*. We don't know how to get excited about... really, *really* boring things, like ornaments, bath oil, the countryside, vases, small churches. I mean, we do not even know what, *what* in the name of God's *ass* is the purpose of pot-pourri! Looks like breakfast, smells like your auntie! Why do we need that? So please, in this strange and frightening world, allow us one last place to call our own. This toilet, this blessed pot, this... fortress of solitude. You girls, you may go to the bathroom in groups of two or more. Yet we do not pass comment. We do not make judgment. That is your choice. But we men will always walk the toilet mile... alone.
: Would you like me to put the lock back on the toilet door, dear? Steve
: Would you mind? Susan
: You should have asked.
: He moved in across the street about a month ago. Gorgeous! Susan
: How gorgeous? Sally
: Knitting pattern? Jane
: Better than knitting pattern. Sally
: Shaving advert? Jane
: Gay porn! Sally
: Wow! Susan
: Jane's breasts scare me. They're like Mickey Mouse's ears. No matter which way you turn, they're still facing you.
: Jane's breasts scare me. They're like Mickey Mouse's ears. Whatever way she turns, they're still facing you.
[Susan finds Patrick with Steve in the cubicle at the fertility clinic
: Patrick, you didn't think you would get to have sex with one of the nurses, did you? Patrick
: I did. Susan
: Patrick, you really are a sad, pathetic man. Steve
: No, Susan. He *did*.
: [after announcing her pregnancy
] Time's up, Steve. I think it's time for someone else to be a child.
: The pain of childbirth is part of being a woman. Steve
: Yes, but it's the part we can fix!
: There's going to be pain... Susan
: Yes. Steve
: Pain for which relief will be offered... Susan
: Yes. Steve
: But which, apparently, you won't want... Susan
: Yes. Steve
: This is not an intelligence test that anyone should fail!
: Sally, for once in your life, why not appreciate a man for what he is, not what you can make him into? Sally
: I'm going to do that. Of course I'm going to do that. Susan
: Good. Jane
: So, when can we meet him? Sally
: When he's finished.
: [Sally is afraid about her boyfriend Liam meeting her male friends
] What if they talk about sex? Susan
: What if? Sally
: What if Liam tells them about me? I can't stay friends with men who know what I'm like in bed. I'd have to kill them. Susan
: Alright, so you're saying you've killed every man you've been to bed with? Jane
: Ohhh! I thought they just stopped phoning.
: Can we please talk about this pregnancy without bringing up John Hurt? Steve
: No man can do that!
: But she won't understand a word I'm saying. Susan Walker
: Yeah, but on the plus side: She won't understand a word you're saying.
: [Asked by Sally if she wants to talk about her break-up with Steve
] Okay... you know what's really getting me mad? My boyfriend... my fiance... the man who, against all my better judgment I actually love... chatted up a woman in a bar. And on the very same day - the VERY SAME DAY - I chatted up a man. Do you see? Do you get it? I'm equally at fault. How can I ever forgive him for that? But, of course, I'm not going to forgive him because... because men - and I don't mean to generalize - are CRAP! They're the human race's only failed gender! Who needs them? And why are they so difficult to keep hold of? Do you think they realize that, were it not for the genetic imperative to populate the earth, they wouldn't get a date? That's one hell of an inducement! "No pressure, girls, but shag one of these or it's curtains for all humankind!" That's harrassment! But you know what? Do you know what's even more crap than men? WE are more crap than men! All those stupid books you guys had and... and these magazines! A hundred pages of "Men are useless bastards" and an article on why you should wake them up with a blow job! Am I alone on spotting the inconsistency here? And these places
] Susan Walker
: ... 'cause, for God's sake, don't let them see what we really look like! Just let them enjoy the results - don't let them see how it all happens. Jane Christie
: You know... I went out with Steve for six years... Susan Walker
: Non, you didn't. You went out with him for four years. I checked. Jane Christie
: Oh... well it seemed longer. Susan Walker
: Yeah! Yeah! Of course it seemed longer. I, myself, have been going out with him since the 12th century. Or possibly since last week - it's hard to keep track. Because how are you supposed to measure time with the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with? What would make sense? Centuries? Nanoseconds? Sally
: Does your dick do all your thinking? Patrick
: Dunno. I'll ask it.
: My God, Susan... I'm being criticized by a talking penis! Susan Walker
: It's okay, Sally. Sally Harper
: It took me three years of counselling to stop having that nightmare!
: [on the phone to Jeff
] We have our advisers online. Steve
: [pointing at Susan and Sally
] That's you two. Susan
: This is ridiculous! Why does he need us to translate for him? Women aren't a completely different species, you know. Patrick
: [on the phone
] Jeff, women AREN'T a completely different species. Steve
: He just needs to find out if it's a friendly drink or a date drink. He'll do friendly but he won't do date. Sally
: Why doesn't he know already? Steve
: Because he is Jeff, and there's no known cure.
: You can't take that excitement seriously! I mean, you know what men are like. That could happen any time, anywhere. Susan Walker
: Okay, then. Make it happen now. Steve
: What? Susan Walker
: Well, you did it for Jane, you can do it for me. On you go then. Steve
: I can't just switch it on! It's not like an emergency dinghy... I don't pull a ripcord! Susan Walker
: Any time, anywhere, you said. Steve
: Yeah, well normally I get some help. This isn't exactly sex talk, is it? Susan Walker
] I can do sex talk! Steve
: I never said you couldn't.
[he returns to studying the restaurant menu
] Susan Walker
: [after a pause
] Nipples. Steve
: What? Susan Walker
: Nipples. They're... good? Steve
: Yes, thank you. Nipples are... good. Susan Walker
: Did that help? Steve
: There's a fine line between sex talk and just... mentioning body parts.
: Where are you going? Susan Walker
: It's up to you.