Don: You're on two per cent, two and a half, maybe even three. Depends on the usual bumflufferies. It's not about the money with you and me is it, Gal? It's the charge, it's the bolt, it's the buzz, it's the sheer fuck off-ness of it all. Am I right?
Gal: I love you like a rose loves rainwater, like a leopard loves its partner in the jungle, like... I don't know what like.
Gal: People say, "Don't you miss it, Gal?" I say, "What, England? Nah. Fucking place. It's a dump. Don't make me laugh. Grey, grimy, sooty. What a shit hole. What a toilet. Every cunt with a long face shuffling about, moaning, all worried. No thanks, not for me." They say, "What's it like, then, Spain?" And I'll say, "It's hot. Hot. Oh, it's fucking hot. Too hot? Not for me, I love it."
Teddy Bass: Men, or women?
Harry: Oh... definitely.
Don: But quite frankly your attitude appalls me. It's not what you're saying. It's all this stuff you're not saying. Insinnuendos.
Gal: This is madness, I've had enough of this "Crime and Punishment" bollocks. I'm happy here.
Don: I won't let you be happy, why should I?
Teddy Bass: What are you staring at?
Harry: The back of your head.
Teddy Bass: Well don't. Stare at the back of your own fucking head.
Don: I fucked Jackie. Dirty cow. During what we were doing, she tried to stick her finger up my bum. I nearly hit the roof, you can imagine. I mean, what have you got to think of a woman who'd want to do that?
Teddy Bass: If I cared, Gal, if I fucking cared. If I gave one solitary fuck about Don... get out of the fucking car.
Don: Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Don: I gotta change my shirt, it's sticking to me. I'm sweating like a cunt.
Don: You're the problem! You're the fucking problem you fucking Dr White honkin' jam-rag fucking spunk-bubble! I'm telling you Aitch you keep looking at me I'll put you in the fucking ground, promise you.
Don: Talk to me, Gal. I'm here for you. I'm a good listener.
Gal: What can I say, Don? I've said it all. I'm retired.
Don: Shut up.
Aitch: He 'ain't gonna get fuck all with that blunderbluss! He'd be better off with a spear.
Gal: Shut-up Aitch.
