The Inbetweeners 2

1

Greetings, Muggles.

My f***ing God. He fell for it.

I told you he would.

It's not really fancy dress, you dick.

What? No way!

These are the jokers from my course

I was telling you about.

You lot. Technically, I didn't fall for it

as there was no way I could have known.

- Whoa. Where d'you think you're going?

- Into the party.

You're dressed like Harry Potter.

There's no way you're coming in here,

you f***ing plum.

You could have come as someone sexy.

Hermione's sexy.

What a twat.

Mental.

Guys?

Guys?

Piss off, Harry.

Well, this is a disaster.

I've come down from Sheffield for this?

It's OK. We'll still have a good weekend.

There's a pub I love just down the road.

I'm wearing a gym skirt.

It's a student town. No one will care.

- And no pants.

- Righto.

Oi, Si. Nudgies.

- What the f***?

- Sorry. Sorry. I'm so sorry.

F*** me. What a waste of a weekend.

I thought you said they were

your best mates at uni.

- Yeah.

- I'll find us some mates.

I've got this amazing app called Grindr.

Made loads of new mates through it.

My gosh, you'll never guess what.

- Someone's sent you a penis shot?

- Nah, I just got an email from Jay.

- No way.

- Way. Listen to this.

"Dear Neil, you f***ing weapon..."

As you know, I am on a mental gap year,

in Australia.

Or outback...

as they say over here.

So I thought I'd email you,

not because I miss you lot

but because this place is a million

out of ten and you'll be well jel.

Life has never been better.

It's much better than when I was going out

with Jane, who I now no longer think about.

I'm living near a town called Sydney

and working at the most mental club

in Australia called Revolutions.

I am now their premier number one DJ...

Good evening, ladies!

Going by the name of DJ Big Penis,

which everyone agrees is the perfect name.

Get Lucky

I've made so much cashola,

which is Australian for money,

that I've bought myself a f***-off mansion

and filled it full of pussay.

And like Will's mum's appetite for cock,

it's enormous.

Before that, I was living

with Uncle Bryan, who's my dad's cousin,

although he is tragic

and obviously not as cool as my dad.

What's that?

Anyway, it will come as no surprise to you

the number of Aussie birds I'm rooting,

which is Australian for knobbing.

" ' Yes!"

They're total filth and

f*** like kangaroos,

all big teeth, bouncing and wet pouches.

I make love to them with a technique

I like to call the one-pump orgasm.

They absolutely love it.

Name an Aussie bird and I've f***ed her.

Check.

Check.

Kylie and Dannii Minogue three-way?

I'd done that ten minutes

after getting off the plane.

And mates? I've made loads of cool

new mates who come round for dinner.

But really it's all about the birds.

Aussie sheilas just can't get enough

of Jay, especially the supermodels,

who, by the way, love it up the shitter.

I've been woken up by a blowj*b from

a different girl every single morning.

You can imagine what that's like,

waking up every morning to a blowie.

What is this I'm feeling?

They keep it so clean.

I haven't had to wash my cock in weeks.

Basically, everything's better

than when I was with Jane,

who, as I mentioned, I

no longer think about.

We've come too far...

To give up who we are

On the minus side,

I've had to punch out a few koala bears,

normally when they drop out of the trees

and try to fight me.

Mug! Have it!

But other than that, it's been bonza,

which is Australian for f***ing brilliant.

Come and stay any time you like.

I guarantee I'll get you sucked

drier than Simon's mum's fanny.

Say hello to those other two dozy pricks

if you see them.

Tell your bent dad he still can't bum me.

We're up all night for good fun.

And tell your fit sister

that I'd like to...

- No, come on.

- What does it say?

"I'd like to chew on those

massive juicy burger nipples of hers",

reach my thumb round and..."

No, it's too much.

Oi, get off!

Oi!

- There's more. "Flip her over..."

- What a lovely email.

"...spoodge down her face, over her back,

clunge, wellies, anal, anal, anal..."

This goes on a bit.

Australia sounds a laugh.

Not like hanging out with you two.

Wish I'd gone to Australia this weekend

instead of shitty Bristol.

You know it's on the

other side of the world?

- Doubt it.

- Excuse me, mate. You're on.

At last, something decent.

- Is this seat taken?

- Yeah, sorry, it is.

- Have you got any friends at university?

- Of course I have, Simon.

I'm just lucky that I've managed to not

get tied down to a clique or a group.

- I'm free to hang out with anyone and everyone.

- Or no one.

You changed universities

just to be with your girlfriend.

I've got mates other than Lucy.

Pete, for one.

- Who's Pete?

- Pete from my halls.

I must have mentioned Pete. Pete.

Pete, my best mate.

My best mate at uni.

I do spend a lot of time with Lucy.

Although she has changed a bit

since we were on holiday.

And, well, what's the word

when someone's not nicer?

- Nastier?

- Yeah. I think that's it, maybe.

- She's nastier.

- Right, out. You're barred.

Barred? What?

Why?

That.

So we're ali on the same page,

that's me, Wall McKenzie,

seemingly Bristol University's

least popular undergraduate.

And that's my friend Simon, who's got

university relationship problems of his own.

Who's this f***ing slut, Kirsty Scott?

- Lucy, are you on my Facebook again?

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