RE: Re: dont30 Mar 2020 23:51
The scene:
Night, a dark alley, a dimly-lit doorway, a man and a woman huddled, talking. He lights a cigarette. The glow lights up her face. She has the faded good looks of her former glory, Miss Lancashire 1978.
She smiles knowingly and asks, “What’s your name love?”
Eagerly he ejaculates, “Miloh Throbber! Private Dyck”.
“Oooh pet, steady on. What’s your number?’
“88”
“88 Eeeee, . . . I like the sound of that . . .
Lights fade, muffled sounds, CUT!