The Love Punch

Thank you.

Hello.

Hello.

I'll have the same.

Ah, weddings!

Ah, weddings.

Natalie was after we split.

Minutes.

But well done for trying.

I heard the new one legged it.

Michaela and I

have parted company, yes.

These young women, they just can't

make up their minds, can they?

No.

You get me, Kate, though.

Or you used to.

That's because

I'm a trained child psychologist.

So, how's life

for the nearly retired corporate sellout?

Marvellous. I'm playing some

of the best golf of my life.

What?

- You're going to be so bored.

- I will not be bored.

- Totally and utterly bored.

- Rubbish!

- Bored.

- Rubbish.

- You look great, by the way.

- Oh, shut up.

Damn it! Still handsome.

- OK, so he's here.

- Who?

- Ken.

- Oh!

Is that him?

- He's got a nice body.

- Ken?

Pen's tennis coach.

It's time Kate fought more aggressively.

Get out there.

I do get out there!

Taking your laptop out into the garden

is not getting out there.

Come on, you two!

Get back together.

- Come on, get back together.

- Not now, Jerry.

- Well, we live in hope. Just imagine.

- Oh!

- Oh, hello.

- Hi.

You're Ken, aren't you?

Hello.

Oh! Wh... whoosh!

- Ah... flowers!

- Yeah, they're for you.

Oh, thank you.

They're... they're lovely.

- You're allergic.

- Only mildly.

Why is Kate holding owers

when she's allergic?

Only mildly.

- I'm so sorry. I didn't know...

- No, no, no, it's fine.

It's not all flowers. Really, I like them.

I want them. I actually want them.

Why has Kate got owers?

She's allergic.

- Only mildly.

- Don't!

Ah, Michaela!

I've come to take my car.

Move yours, it's blocking mine.

I want out.

- Uh-huh. Who's he?

- My new lover.

Bloody hell.

Can't you do that a bit louder, darling? I

don't think you've woken the whole street.

Come on, Mum.

You're supposed to be helping me.

I'm coming, I'm coming.

"Hello, Kate.

My name is Jean-Baptiste Durain.

"I'm 57 years old, live in Paris

and would love to converse with you."

Durain!

Well, this is a first.

Hey-hey!

Prodigal daughter departing

for an establishment of higher learning.

Hurrah for said person!

- Where is it you're going, again?

- Edinburgh.

Edinburgh. Oh, brilliant!

Yeah, cor... Brilliant!

Say yes to everything.

Go on, och aye to it all.

- Well, not everything, Jerry.

- No, of course not.

- Jerry! Here you are.

- What? No, I don't want that darling.

- What?

- It's boiling. No, I'm all right, thanks.

Anyway, Sophie, have a ball.

See you at Christmas, darling.

- See you, Uncle Jerry.

- Ho-ho!

Now, you haven't forgotten

about tomorrow night.

Ken's definitely coming.

Despite what happened with the flowers,

he's still keen.

All right. Well, second time lucky.

Smashing! That's my girl.

Seven o'clock at ours.

- I think that's her serve.

- I hope not.

Oh, shot. Ding dong!

Hey, one more week, old son,

and you'll be doing this all day every day.

This is going to be our new office.

It's what we've worked

our whole lives for, isn't it?

- Eh?

- Yeah.

Yeah, I suppose you're right,

my friend.

Yep. Living the dream, old son.

Living the dream.

No more answering to the man.

We call and we... take the shots.

- Ah, that's not bad.

- Nice one.

- Whoo-hoo!

- Sure we won't be bored now?

Bored? Bored?

What, with all this? Bored!

As if.

- Oh!

- Oh, no. It's not gone again, has it?

- Oh, yeah. Sh*t!

- Anything I can do?

Yeah, just... just put your...

put your thumb right there, mate.

Oh, I'd better not stand there.

People will talk.

Now, don't forget:

always wash your jeans inside out,

if it looks swollen, it probably is, and...

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