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somewhere in the world. Late thirties, eyelids at
flashing red light.
it, I'd kiss it - Cat on a fence I'll kiss it - always,
always, I will - didn't I? I did because I was different
Where-oh-where, Gillian? Where did she go, where-oh -
Where is there to go?
You've got your contacts in, silly.
I'm a silly, it's true, it's true.
A braying laugh.
It's alright. Stretch your legs.
Good idea, that's right -
will be re-boarding in 15 minutes -
Whooahhh, London, Gillian, London!
Yes ' Shhh.
Shhh, softly, softly, new story '
frams. It's David in his late twenties. The full head of
spectacles dangle off the end of his nose. He's looking
INT/EXT. MOBY'S WINEBAR - NIGHT
and a woman in her mid-forties, Sylvia, put up chairs; the
all from his POV. He raps on the window.
What does he want?
A drink probably. Get lost!
Poor thing. Let him in.
He's a derro'!
comes over and opens the door to him.
What's the problem, mate?
Sorry, sorry, sorry, mate, I'm the problem, I think I'm the
problem, such a problem. And wet! But it's not an ideal
world. Is it an ideal world? We just have to make the most
of it, I mean, this is the way we find it isn't it,
yeah-yeah-yeah! But it's more ideal than it was, I mean,
you know, we're privileged, we're privileged, we're
burned to a steak wouldn't they, er '
He sees 'MOBY'S' embroidered on TONY's tunic.
Moby, yay Moby, pleased to meet you -
Tony. Who are you?
Tony, Tony not Moby Tony. Who am I Tony? Who knows Tony?
I don't know myself. Whooahh! David, I'm David, I'm David
Tony ' How does that sound?
Hello David. How can Sylvia help?