Friday Night Dinner

Beat you, Pus-face. Got here first!

No, I promise I won't tell them.

Jonny's hungover.

Run over?

Hungover.

Oh, your mum'll love that!

Just T-shirt and knickers today, Dad?

Yes. Merry Christmas, bambino.

And that's your Christmas outfit?

My bottom was hot.

Right.

Yeah, it was really over-heating.

Hi, Bobble. Happy Crimbo!

Hi, Mum.

House looks nice.

Oh, thanks, they're gorgeous.

Martin, has your bottom cooled down yet?

Not yet.

Well, why don't you stick it in the freezer?!

Vase.

Where's Jonny?

Yeah, you'd have thought he'd get here first,

since he's technically drink driving.

What?

He's hungover.

Hungover?!

Apparently, Jonny's hungover.

Is there an echo in here?

Why's he always hungover on Christmas Day?

He knows the family are coming.

So selfish.

Happy Christmas.

Here he is. Happy Christmas, Pissface!

I'm really not happy.

Jackie?

What?

It's almost room temperature.

Great.

Hi.

Merry Christmas, bambino.

Feeling fresh?

Get off!

So you got drunk last night, did you?

You said you wouldn't tell.

I make all this effort for Christmas and you're just going to be

moping around like Mr Misery face, feeling crap.

I don't feel crap.

Immediately proved wrong.

Excuse me, can I get a drink of water?

All right, I'll get it.

I'm not going to do anything.

What?

Yeah. Hot bum.

Here.

Thanks.

Argh! You bastard.

Hair of the dog.

Adam!

This is vodka. How did you...?

A skill Magill!

The drains smell of faeces again.

Lovely, Martin. It's Christmas Day!

Here we are.

Oi.

So who's coming today?

You know who's coming - Grandma.

Cool.

And Horrible Grandma.

Oh, Horrible Grandma. I thought she was ill.

Hm, she got better.

Who's better?

Your mother.

Yeah, I know. Horrible Grandma.

Horrible Grandma's coming?

Yes.

Oh, when will she die?

Jonny, that's a terrible thing to say.

Is it?

No, not really. Martin, when will your mother die?

In about an hour, hopefully.

She's not bringing her dead dog, is she?

Unfortunately, yes.

How is that thing still alive?

It must be like 900 by now.

It's got cobwebs in its arse.

Nearly done.

And your mother better not go on about my horrible dry turkey again.

What? No, I'm sure she won't.

Well, she does it every Christmas. What's wrong with my turkey?

It's lovely.

I know, Jackie. It's delicious.

Boys, my turkey's not horrible and dry, is it?

No, not at all.

Not one bit.

Good. Well, she better keep her mouth shut, then.

It is dry though, isn't it?

Oh, my God, it's dry.

So dry!

Oh, and er, bring the jug through, will you?

I'll be right through, love.

Oh, boys, could you help me a moment?

What is it?

Garage, surprise.

What? You've got Rudolph in there?

Yes. Rudolf Hess!

No need to wear any trousers.

Adam, can you come here?

OK.

Da-da!

Wow, it's lovely, Mum.

Ah, do you think so? And there's holly and glitter.

Yeah, yeah, it's great...

What?

Nothing.

Come on, what?

Well, I know I say it every year, but don't you think

it's a bit weird that we do all this Christmassy stuff?

No. Why's it weird?

Er, maybe because we're Jewish.

Don't be silly. It's a tradition.

A Christian tradition.

It's not a Christian tradition, it's a tradition-tradition.

A tradition-tradition that celebrates the birth of Christ.

No, it doesn't.

Er, it does.

Well, yes, OK, it does, but Christmas is just, you know, fun.

Fun?

Yeah, family.

Fun or family? They're quite different.

Oh, just put the crackers out.

- The Jewish crackers or the Christian crackers? - Shut up!

Surprise!

I'm sorry, you're not bringing that thing into my house?

What? Why not?

Martin, we've never had a tree before. Never.

Yeah, well, now we have.

Please, I will be sick.

But it was half price. The man with the van was practically giving them away.

I don't care about the man with the van.

It, it's not right.

Not right? But we do the turkey, we do the crackers.

Stop it, Adam. That's different.

This is just... wrong.

Because?

Because we're... Jewish.

Heave.

- Jesus! - Heave.

Argh.

Heave.

- Please stop saying that word. - Heave.

Heave!

Done.

Done?

Done.

That's it, then, is it?

What do you mean?

That's our Christmas tree?

What do you think it is? A cement mixer?

Aren't you meant to decorate it?

What? No, it's fine. It's fine.

Yes, it's fine, if you just want a tree inside your house!

Well, what are we meant to decorate it with, dummkopf?

Er, how about some baubles?

Where am I going to get bleeding baubles from, you pillock?

All right. You're the one that bought a Christmas tree.

Correction, "a tree".

Yeah, "a tree".

I hate it.

You haven't even looked at it.

I'm looking at it right now and I hate it.

How can you hate a tree?

That's like saying, "I hate air".

Martin, it's horrible. Get rid of it.

Are you mad?

I just hate it, and you know who'll hate it the most.

- Who? - Your mother.

Horrible grandma.

Oh, yeah, she'll hate it.

- Yeah, well, my mother hates everything. - True.

- She hates the boys. - Also true.

You'll have to say it's a Hanukkah bush.

I'm not saying it's a Hanukkah bush.

I'm not.

What's wrong with it?

You all right, Grandma?

Oh, yes, dolly.

Careful of Boadicea. Careful.

Er, it's wearing a nappy?

It bit me.

She doesn't like you.

Take my bag.

Torture equipment.

And you, take that.

Body parts.

But don't drop it.

Hello, Cynthia.

Give her some air, give her some air.

Nice drive?

She said my hair was slutty.

Dirty mirror. Where's my boy?