Frank

Olly will you shut the fuck up! Boring fucking cunt.

Wolfie the Haddock?

Noted.

I’m sorry to hear that, alf.. there’s only so many times one can rewire the house. Are you getting out a bit? I don’t know gyppo’s current marital status, but she’s partial to weather-beaten rickety old cunts like you.

The funniest thing I’ve read for weeks was you running out of letters on your final attempt to change your username. Are you married, Alf?

When he vigorously defended his curry recipe shortly before aborting his staycation last year, it almost made me cry.

Alf. I like him. Solid.

I don’t like him.

We’ve been over this, wolfie. It’s nothing to do with money, ego or class you idiot. It’s about style and at least the cunt is having a go. You sit there in the safety of your working boots for life, spouting your suburban views, but you haven’t got a fucking clue.

Ape scrape the silver skin from the batter and discreetly stick it in your pocket together with the knife. Go and watch wanderlust on the iPlayer and wait for Mrs A to go to bed. Sneak upstairs, creep into bed and pummel the scaly skin up Mrs A’s bumhole. Stab yourself in the eye.

No

Fuck off withers you idiot.

This is extensively covered by panzerknacker and the world’s fucking press. What’s your point, olly?

That’ll earn you some long awaited likes, you creepy fucking queer.

I have 6 hours. Stand fucking by.

I'm sitting outside St Paul's Cathedral eating a falafel. Life is wonderful in London town.

That's about the short and long of it. Gagged, bound and hopelessly trapped inside your tiny head. Pitiful.

Lie low you pathetic weak little cunt.

Well, now who’s the dog? You shoulderless defected sperm-shooting specimen. Fucking right you’ll ignore me.. you’ve been played like a fiddle and you’re one step away from completing the 9 step program. Adhere to the rules and we’ll get along just fine. Understood?

Step 8.

Alf, I really like you. You’re very much like my old dad. Solid. Could you recommend a good book?

If there's anything I've learnt over the years, ape, it's knowing when one has received a final warning.

Standby.

What's the dress code, scrotes?