You have to tell him Bill.
I know, I know. Just don’t rush me will ya Ted.
Well get it over and done with, this is killing me.
Killing you? How do you think I feel? And what about Sam here when he finds out?
Tell me what lads? Are we going to have our fem night or what?
Well, Sam, that’s the whole point you see. Ted here, well his wife sort of found out about our ‘poker’ nights. She went spare, I tell you. And she told my Mary. The shit hit the fan in a big way mate. You ain’t got to live with a crappy mooded woman like us two, with you being single. You have no idea how much hell it can be.
Yeah, Sam. I’ve been told no sex for a month. It’s frosty at home, an’ that’s putting it lightly.
See? He’s goin’ to have to go without for ages, and I’m sleeping in the garage now. Neither of us can afford a divorce - where the fuck would we live? It means the houses, kids, the lot. We can’t risk that. You do understand that, don’t you?
That’s your problem lads, if you wan’t to call it quits then fine, I will find somebody else to share this with.
Er. It’s not only our problem Sam. You know you said how slippy your suit was tonight? Well, and this don’t make me happy mate, it wasn’t oil to make it slide on easier like we said, it was, well, not to beat about the bush, to tell the truth, and getting right down to it, and I don’t mean to sort of skirt the issue, you understand? But, well, you know how bitchy the girls can be and they ain’t really fans of yours, and I can’t keep sleeping in the garage, you know. Well, to cut a long story short mate. It wasn’t oil. It was superglue. They told us to put it on your suit, breast forms, mask, wig and nails. Sorry Sam, but look on the bright side, eh? Your boots wasn't included!
Still friends, yeah?
