Salmon Fishing In The Yemen

Dear Dr. Jones,

I act on behalf of a client

with access to very substantial funds

who has indicated a desire

to sponsor a project to introduce salmon

and the sport of salmon fishing

into the Yemen.

I would like to seek a meeting with you

to identify

how this challenging project

might be initiated and resourced.

I might add that

the Foreign and Commonwealth Office

supports the project as a symbol

of Anglo-Yemeni cooperation.

Yours sincerely,

Harriet Chetwode-Talbot, Ms.

Fitzharris & Price Investment Consultants.

Night. Have a good evening.

You, too. Say hi to soldier boy.

We're just friends, you know.

We've only met a couple of times.

- Yeah, you tell me that on Monday.

- Shut up.

- Hello.

- Hi. It's great to see you.

- Yes. Me, too. Sorry.

- Yes?

- Yes.

- You, too.

- No, "Yes" is a start, that's fine.

- Stop it, I'm so nervous.

Why are you nervous?

I don't know. I'm trying to be

very sophisticated and grown-up.

Right. No, grown-up, absolutely.

Quite right, yeah.

- Harriet.

- Yes?

Last one to the restaurant pays.

What?

You bastard.

Dear Harriet Chetwode-Talbot,

thank you for your e-mail.

As a fisheries specialist,

permit me a word or two about salmon.

Migratory salmonoids require cool,

well-oxygenated water in which to spawn.

In addition, in the early stages

of the salmon's life cycle,

a good supply of fly life

indigenous to the northern European rivers

is necessary for the juvenile salmon,

or parr, to survive.

Some considerable distance

from the Indian Ocean,

or indeed the Red Sea,

as I am sure you are aware,

though apparently not

the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

We conclude that conditions in the Yemen

make this project unfeasible.

Fundamentally unfeasible.

Yes, yes. Fundamentally unfeasible.

We therefore regret

that we are unable to help you

any further in this matter.

Yours, Alfred Jones, Doctor.

I've put duck liver pate in your sandwich.

That's lovely.

Righto. I'm off to bed.

Already?

- Airport car's coming at 5:00.

- Righto.

I'll maybe have another wee pass

at the caddis fly paper.

You could read it on the airplane.

Up to my ear in reports, darling.

I'll read it when I'm back.

Right, then. Good night.

Oh, my God, I don't do this. I don't do this.

No, I can tell.

I haven't done this in a really long time.

- Okay.

- I'm so shy.

- Okay. No, I'll sleep on the sofa.

- No, I'm so shy.

Look, Harriet, I mean it. I...

Shut up.

You were saying. You're shy.

I am shy and quiet.

Like Hitler. I'm serious.

Robert, I...

Don't do this and then forget me.

I just don't wanna be

an army barracks joke in the morning.

Please be nice to me.

Harriet, I'm serious, too. I mean it.

So if you want me

to sleep on the sofa, then I'll...

If you say, Captain Mayers,

one more time you'll sleep on the sofa,

you'll bloody well sleep on the sofa.

Captain Robert Mayers, 3-6-4-7-7-2.

Maxwell. Better be good.

Mrs. Maxwell, we have a situation.

- What?

- Code Red in Afghanistan.

Go to sleep.

Tell me that's not a mosque.

Well, it is a religious establishment...

- Of course it's a bloody mosque!

- Well, of course...

- What's up?

- Go to sleep.

-...make this a joint operation.

- No,no,no,no,no,no,no.

The British have absolutely

nothing to do with this whatsoever.

And I want every single man, woman, child

and goat in Afghanistan to know that.

My God, I didn't think we could make

the war in Afghanistan any less popular,

but, hey, even I can be wrong.

We'll have Vera Lynn strapping on

her suicide belt in sympathy next.

Bravo, the bloody Marines.

Right, you lot.

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