Heather’s Come To Bed Dialogue

Come to bed!
No
Come on, come to bed!
Just go back to bed
I can’t go if you’re not going to go
Why not?
Because. Will you just come to bed, please!
I don’t feel like it
You’re being ridiculous
Fine! I’m ridiculous then
This is so stupid!
Fine, I’m stupid
I didn’t say you were stupid, this is stupid
Whatever
Look, if I say I’m sorry will you come to bed?
Are you saying you’re sorry?
If I do will you come to bed?
Are you saying you’re sorry?
If I do will you come to bed?
Are you saying you’re sorry?
Fine! I’m sorry. Now will you come to bed?
That’s really not the point, though. I mean, it’s great that you’re sorry but it really doesn’t solve anything
Whatever!
See! You’re not even sorry anyway
This is making me crazy!
You’re making yourself crazy
That doesn’t even make any sense
Whatever – just go to bed. I don’t even want you here anyway
Fine!
Fine!
So… Will you just come to bed already, babe…come on, come to bed
No
Come to bed
No
You know you want to
No I don’t
I’ll give you a neck massage… Well?…
Maybe
Come to bed
Maybe
Please
Maybe
Please
Maybe
Please
Only if you tell me why you’re sorry.
Just fucking forget it! I’m going to bed!
Good!
I’m going to
Good!
I mean it
I want you to
I’m serious
Fine!
Fine!
Fine!
Fine, you fucking freak!
Fine! I didn’t want to go to bed with you anyway!
Good! I sleep better when you’re not there anyway
You sleep better?! You’re the one who’s tossing around and scratching your balls all night!
Fuck you, you fucking bitch!
Fuck you, you fucking dick!
Whatever
Whatever
So, will you knock this the fuck off and come to bed already?

Jeff’s Kitchen Dialogue

“Hi Greg.”
“Hi Dad.”
“How was varsity?”
“Same shit, different day.”
“Anatomy today?”
“Yup”
“The body must look pretty hacked up.”
“You can’t believe it!”
“What happens if you’re dissecting a woman – how do you learn about the male anatomy and vice versa?”
“It’s not so strict. You can walk around to different dissecting tables.”
“Anything interesting happen lately?”
“Yes, this one group had a body who’d died from a stroke – a blood vessel in the brain was blocked. What happened was that formalin didn’t get past the blockage, so the brain tissue after the blockage wasn’t preserved. When they cut opened this guy’s cranium his brains literally spilled out. I swear I nearly puked from the smell!”
“Hell man, I can only imagine.”
(Janine) “Guys, supper’s ready, please set the table.”
(Greg) “What’s for supper, mom?”
“Filled pasta – spinach and ricotta.”
“Oh cool. Listen, who wants wine? Everyone?”
(Me) “Greg, where’s my favourite wine-opener? You know, the red waiter’s friend.”
“It’s on the sideboard, Dad.”
“I’ve got a nice blank bottle tonight – will go well with the pasta.”
“Bevin, come down already!”
“I’m coming. Chill!”
“Luthie, where the hell have you been? Come to Dad. Oh, who’s a lovely grey cat?”
“Prrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Listen, Greg, can you go past Craighall Vet tomorrow after varsity? We need dog and cat food.”
“Nin, how was Pretoria today?”
“Boring shit!”
“Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Worse…the bloody car was hot and the trip seemed longer than usual.”
“And the meeting?”
“Went on forever!”
“Bev, how was debating?”
“Oh, cool, getting ready for the finals.”
“Are you riding tomorrow?”
“Yup”
“Ok, I’ll fetch you at about six. Just SMS me when you’re near the school.”
“Sure, Dad. Listen, I need forty rand for the driver, Jean-Luc.”
“Ok”

Mandy’s Tea Dialogue

“I’ve put the kettle on. You’ll have to do tea duty.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m not making tea. That’s your job.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Do you mean to tell me it’s too much trouble to make a cup of tea for your kids?”
“I’m busy.”
“Not that busy! It’s two cups of tea, for God’s sake!”
“Well, I don’t feel like it.”
“You don’t feel like it? Do you think I feel like making you tea several times a day? Or breakfast, lunch or supper, for that matter?”
“No-one said you had to.”
“Oh, so what – I must cook for just the kids and myself and you’ll sort yourself out?”
“If you like.”
“What the hell has got into you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re being so bloody-minded!”
“Am I?”
“Yes! This song and dance about making two cups of tea.”
“But I’m busy.”
“You’re not that busy.”
“How do you know? You don’t even know what I’m doing.”
“Ooooh, let me guess. Downloading e-mails, making your predictions for this weekend’s rugby – life and death stuff, really.”
“That’s not all.”
“Well, what then? What could be so important that you can’t take two minutes to make your children a cup of tea?”
“You could have made it by now.”
“I’ve got to go! I’m running late!”
“But you’ve wasted an awful lot of time arguing with me. You could have made them tea three times over already.
“Well, so could you! And now I’m going to be late. You always do this!”
“Do what?”
“Sabotage the only time I get to myself. I was so looking forward to this evening and now it’s ruined before I even get there.”
“So stay home, then. And since you’re here, you can make the tea. The girls much prefer your tea to mine anyway.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“There’s no need to use that sort of language. It’s just tea.”
“I know! So why won’t you make it?”
“I told you, I’m busy.”
“And I told you – you can’t be too busy to make your children a cup of tea. If you can’t be bothered to do that, how are you going to manage to put them to bed?”
“I’ll fit it in. Anyway, it doesn’t take long.”
“Nor does tea! Oh, forget it. I’ll do it.”

Patrick’s Truck Dialogue
“Job climb under the truck. We’ll push the syphon in from the top and then drop the end of the pipe down to you so you can ketch the diesel in the bucket.”
“Are you bleddy mad? You can see how this truck is leaning right over. Just now it is going to fall right off this bridge.”
“Naw, these girders are strong. They’ll hold the truck.”
“Bleddy fool driver, why wasn’t he driving faster. He would have gone right through these girders. That way all the groceries would have spilt onto the railway line below us and it would have been our duty to clean up to stop a train accident. The cops would have thanked us.”
“Ja to bad…but…but the driver may have been killed.”
“Serves him right. He nearly donnered me when he swerved off the road. Now come on Job, climb under.”
“Naw, it’s your turn. I filched that torch and those candles in Bennies’ store yesterday. You climb under Brian.”
“Me! You know I can’t. I twisted my anckle when I was running from that guy who chased me because I tried to open the car door for his wife when I saw her hands were full.”
“How far was she from her car when you opened the door for her?”
“Uh..uh…she was on the other side of the street.”
“You liar! You were trying to steal something from her car.”
“Never, she was just such a pretty lady and I was trying to help her. I didn’t see her husband behind her,” he adds with a chuckle.
His two mates laugh too. “Come guys we gotta get that diesel. You heard what Henry said. If we don’t pay for the diesel he won’t give us a lift to that dam outside town and then how are we going to get there to fish?”
His two mates drop their eyes and scratch their necks. The battered truck answers for them. “Scratch, grind, crunch,” it groans as it slides down a few more inches against the steel girders. The men jump back.
“You see, I told you it was dangerous. You guys trying to kill me telling me to climb under.”
“Ja, but what are we going to do now?”
“We’ll have to hitch hike,” Gus says as he gives the back tyre a kick.
Job and Brian sigh. “Last time we tried to hitch hike we walked more than we rode. People just arn’t trusting anymore,” he spits out contemptiously.
“Ja do you remember those days. We didn’t have to catch a texi anywhere. Man used to pull over and say, jump in. Even used to talk to you. Asked you where you were from. Other day a guy did stop for me. He was in a smart Mercedes! Funny thing is that a mercedes has never stopped for me. Then, after ten metres…that’s all, ten metres, he stopped and said in one of those rich accents that people put on, damn, we’ve got a puncture. Tried to sound surprised. Clever bastard didn’t say, I’ve got a puncture. He said, we’ve got a puncture, meaning it was also my problem. Meaning that I had to get out to help him which I did although I knew bloody well that he must have picked up the puncture just before he saw me standing on the side of the road. Co-incidences happen like that. They happen like that all the time. Then people call it divine intervention but that’s rubbish. That bugger saw me standing there just as his tyre went flat. But you know what really hurt, what makes you lose faith in mankind is that when we got to the end of the block he turned left saying, sorry, this is as far as I am going.”
“You’re right, Gus, people are like that now-a-days. We might take the whole day hitch hiking to that dam. We’ll have to get this diesel out. We’ll just have to find a long hosepipe that will reach down to the raileway line. It’s lucky people leave their hose pipes on their lawns. Problem is that which ever one of us is standing on the railway line with the bucket will have to suck hard.”
Job interrupts quickly, “Sorry guys, it will have to be one of you two. You know I suffer from emphesymia.”
“That’s because you roll your cigarettes in newspaper.”
“What must a guy do? It’s hard to find brown paper bags now-a-days. Everything is sold in these terrible plastic bags. Look at all the plastic bags lying under this bridge. If I was the president I would ban plastic bags.”
His mates burst out laughing. “You, President, Job?”
“Shut up! Anyone can achieve anything if one puts one mind to it.”
“Yes, and we better put our minds to finding a hosepipe and a bucket if we want to go fishing.”
“Yeah, we better if we want to keep our promise to the other guys that we will supply the food for the party. Can’t we also find some potatoes when we visit that farm. Chips go nicely with fish.” Job turns to his cousin. “Sticks, we really want to give you a nice welcoming party.”
“Thank you my cousin.”
“I wonder how they are going to find the money to buy the booze for the party?” Brian asks
“Doesn’t matter, that’s their problem. We must just keep our side of the bargain by supplying the food.”

Pierre’s Dialogue

I hate you, I never want to see you again.

You know you don’t mean that, and anyway what have I done that’s made you so angry?

Fuck not only have you completely humiliated me, you don’t even know that you humiliated me!

Oh please, you’re such a drama queen, life is always black and white for you – either everything is amazing, fantastic or it’s horrible and kak. You’ve always been like that Simon and don’t deny it. Remember that time we went on holiday to Prince Albert and you had a fight with the waitress at the restaurant and you wanted to go home the next day. I mean you can’t actually cope if there isn’t some drama, can you?

Look Andrew, I can see right through your strategy – you think if you make this about me then I’ll get defensive and sidetracked. Well I’m sorry but it’s not going to work this time. You think I’m stupid hey? But I’ve learnt a thing or two in therapy and this time, arsehole, it’s you who’s in the wrong. You know that I hate it when you talk about our sex life in front of other people and you deliberately told that story about the threesome that went wrong, just so that everyone would laugh at me at dinner. And stop driving like a prick, we’ll get killed if you go any faster. Probably be better if we both die anyway, I hate my life and I hate you.

I’m not driving like a prick, it’s the roadworks you moron. And anyway, that story about the threesome made me look like an idiot too. You always see things from your perspective only, do you realise that? It’s always me, me, me.

Well why should I take your perspective, you’re the lawyer and you always smooth talk your way out of our arguments. Well try talking your way out of this one Mr bigshot lawyer. You can’t you know, because you know I’m right. Shit watch out that car nearly hit us. Andrew for fuck’s sake watch out. Andrew, Andrew!!!!

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