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: Here's to you, Cousin James. James T
: Here's to you, Cousin Reg. Gary
: And let's not forget good old Daft Jack. Niles
: Daft Jack Deadman.
[they clink glasses
: Daft Jack. Gary
: So why did Daft Jack go to America in the first place? Reg
: Well, the way James tells it, it was a pure accident. James T
: Yeah, yeah, according to Grandma, he just went down to the docks and got on the wrong boat. Reg
: Well, where did he intend to go? James T
: Some place called Wool-wich. You know, one things always got me about that story. Gary
: What? How somebody could accidentally get on a boat bound for an entirely different continent? James T
: No, why did they call him *Daft* Jack? Reg
: I was wondering that.
: Well, don't all rush. Reg
: Gary! Guess who's here? Hold on, I'll give you a clue. Hey, Mac, what do ya say? Hmgh. What do ys know? Can I fix ya a beer?
: Well? Gary
: It's hard to say; they're obviously not human. Reg
: The Yanks are here! Gary
: Fascinating. Anyway, if I could have a drink. Phoebe
: Oh, Gary! I didn't see you there. How are you? You seen whose here? Ever so exciting. Reg
: Been a real breath of fresh air, isn't it, Phoebe? Phoebe
: Oh, I'll say, and they're good for business; I mean, it's like a little bit of Hollywood come to Bethnal Green; I mean, look at them; they're all six footers with toothpaste advert smiles. Gary
: I see they made a big impression on you.
: 'Allo. 'Allo, 'allo Gary
: So that's where it started.
: I don't think it's good enough. I've got a good mind... Eric
: No, you haven't. PC Deadman
: Eh? Eric
: You got a good heart, but even your mother wouldn't say you got a good mind.
: This is a wartime wedding, Phoebe, so I want our best man to be important, well, symbolic even. So, it's not going to be any old friend or workmate for us, Phoebe. Oh, no, better than that: it will be a soldier, or a sailor, or an airman. Phoebe, we will have the best best man of all: a British fighting man. Reg
: Bravo, Gary. Bravo. Phoebe
: Oh, I see. Wonderful. I'll be standing at the altar, and you'll be out on the street trying to pick up a sailor.
: I'm sorry, son, but it's just not
: flaming good enough.
: There, you see what you done. I'm so het up I went and used the F-word.
: You all right, son? Gary
: All this pain and suffering, this is from one bomb. Why weren't all these people down a shelter? Reg
: Well, not everybody likes it down a shelter, and 'd sooner take a chance and kip in their own beds. And poor old Sid there, he was up on the roof, so he really caught a packet. Gary
: Up on the... up on the roof! Well, what did the stupid bugger expect? What on earth is he doing up there? Reg
: Firewatching. What you're going to be doing tomorrow night.
: Sorry to interrupt. Yvonne's 'ere.
[Gary stands up, terrified
: Hello, Auntie.
: Afternoon, Mr Sparrow, long time no see. How are you then, sir? Gary
: Fine. Reg
: No hard feelings? Gary
: Hard feelings? What, about the time you arrested me for drink driving, even though I had no intention whatsoever of driving, with the result that I lost my license, my job and very nearly my wife? No, no hard feelings at all. Reg
: Good. As long as there's no hard feelings. Ron
: He's not very good at detecting irony, is he? Reg
: Oh, I wouldn't dream of trying detective work, sir. Not my forté at all.
: Reg, has Phoebe got the hump with me? Reg
: Probably time of the month. Gary
: No, I don't think it's that. Reg
: Oh, I think it is; used to get her dad the same. Gary
: No, you mean her mum. Reg
: No, don't think her mum ever did the monthly accounts. Gary
: Night, Reg.
: You smell different. Is that the expensive scent that Gary gave you? Phoebe
: No, I've just broken a jar of pickled eggs, Reg. Reg
: Very nice.
: Do you want to see my sponge? Reg
: Oh, that'd be lovely. Is it jam or chocolate?
[Gary produces a sea sponge
: Wough, don't look very appetizing. Was that your first go at baking?
: Chickens, Gary. Gary
: Huh? Phoebe
: And ducks and geese and pigs and cows. Gary
: No, I've already eaten. Reg
: And a dog called Betsy. Gary
: No, you've lost me now. Phoebe
: The farm, Gary. Mrs Carter sent me a letter confirming our booking.
: Drinks all round, I think. Reg
: Oh, I could do serious damage to a pint. Phoebe
[the tap handle comes off in her hand
: looks like you already have, Reg.