Mark Corrigan: [Coming back into the lounge with an empty tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream] Recognize this, Jeremy? I went to get the Cherry Garcia out to defrost and look what I found inside!
[He holds up a post-it note and reads it out]
Mark Corrigan: "Look, I know what you think happened and yes, you're right, I have eaten all your ice cream." This is it. This is the line, you have crossed the line.
Jeremy Usborne: Read the mitigating circumstances, there are loads.
Mark Corrigan: [Pointing at his plate of sausages and mash] A sausage has gone! Oh my God, Jeremy, a sausage is missing! Is this what it's come to? I've got to carry my food around with me now to stop you from... Right, well, I'm sorry, you've driven me to this!
[He goes to the table and starts writing a list]
Jeremy Usborne: What are you doing?
Mark Corrigan: I'm making a list of all household items that you have permission to consume.
Jeremy Usborne: Oh, for God's sake.
Mark Corrigan: Toilet paper, OK. Soap, OK, but not shower gel. And no razors, if you're poor, grow a beard. Tea bags are allowed, within limits.
Jeremy Usborne: Limits? What limits?
Mark Corrigan: No making a pie out of tea or anything weird.
Jeremy Usborne: Look, Mark, lay off, will you? The thing is, and I keep meaning to tell you this, but basically, a few years ago Mummy gave me a nest egg and I kept on meaning to invest but it turns out I've spent it.
Mark Corrigan: You ate your nest egg? You're meant to sit on your nest egg til it hatches, not eat it like some greedy, mad chicken. Well, the solution's obvious. Get a job.
Jeremy Usborne: Yeah, fine, whatever, but it's difficult, you know? There just aren't that many media positions out there. That's the reality.
Mark Corrigan: So? Do something else, get on your bike.
Jeremy Usborne: I can't believe you're trying to make me get a job not in the media. You're such a bastard.
Mark Corrigan: You have to pay rent, Jeremy, that needs to happen.
[Jeremy picks up another sausage from Mark's plate]
Mark Corrigan: Put the sausage back. I'm deadly serious. You never pay any rent, if you start stealing from me as well, that it, you'll have to move out. This is the final straw.
[Jeremy eats the sausage]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Mmm, delicious Cumberland final straw, dripping in onion gravy.
Mark Corrigan: [voiceover] Ugh, speed dating, that was horrible. No one else seemed to mind, maybe this is the future, three minute date, three minute fuck, three minute marriage.
[At a sperm bank]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Right, time to open my sticky bank account. Hey, where the porn? No porn? Am I supposed to just dry hump myself? Must be something I can use.
[He takes out a crumpled £20 note and looks at the image of the Queen printed on it]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Would it be wrong? Why not? It's a free country.
[He undoes his jeans and starts to masturbate]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] OK Queenie, it's back in the 50s, you're nice and young, you've just been coronated, I'm taking off your cloak... No, leave the crown on. Ooh, what's this? Stockings? You've been getting through your nylon ration book pretty quicky, you naughty, sexy Queen!
[He drops the note]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Oh shit.
[He picks it]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Right, here we...
[He's now looking at the other side, with the mustachioed Edward Elgar printed on it]
Jeremy Usborne: [voiceover] Oh... Elgar? Oh, I've totally lost it now. Thanks a bunch, Elgar!
[Mark's new flatmate Saz and her two mates are getting drunk and being rowdy. Sophie has just come round, she and Mark are in the kitchen swapping the stuff they've left round each other's places]
Saz: [shouting from the lounge] Hey Mark, get back in here so Lindsey can jerk you off!
Sophie Chapman: What?
Mark Corrigan: No one's going to jerk me off, Sophie, it's just a stupid joke.
Saz: I'm not the one that's going to jerk you off, she's the one that's going to jerk you off!
Mark Corrigan: Please, carry on.
Sophie Chapman: Are you trying to humiliate me?
Mark Corrigan: What? No, God, no.
Saz: Hey Marrrk... come and put your tongue up Lindsey's arsehole, it's clean!
Mark Corrigan: [voiceover] Money might not buy you love, but apparently a furnished flat can get you a reasonable simulation.
[after a meeting where Mark accidentally clamped a bullclip onto his lip]
Jeff Heaney: Perhaps it would be better if you left the self-harming for the weekend, mate.
Dobby: [Doing a sarcastic little song while dancing a little jig] Jeff's doing a joke, Jeff's doing a joke, everybody quiet cos Jeff's doing a joke.
Jeff Heaney: [Taken slightly aback] Freak.
[Mark is going speed dating. A woman with a clipboard comes up to him]
Tash: Mark Corrigan. We've collated all your ticks and crosses with all the girls' ticks and crosses
Mark Corrigan: Ah, the results are in. What does the swingometer say?
Tash: Well, I'm afraid you've got no matches for dating.
Mark Corrigan: What? None? But number 23 said she was definetely going to tick, that's a verbal contract!
Tash: Well, maybe you could take her to court.
[She walks off]
Mark Corrigan: Yeah, speeding dating, I'd be better off speed skating!
Mark Corrigan: Doesn't really work, but she gets the point.