Animals

Tell me the one about the day we met.

I was walking past the coffee shop, lost,

and you were standing outside.

I said, "You look like a girl

"who's looking for something."

Mmm. The call centre.

Inspiration.

Well, first and foremost, the call centre.

I had a job interview.

Tell me about the next time we met.

You were driving a tram.

It wasn't even my tram.

It was the coolest thing I've ever seen.

- Still? - Always.

Oh.

Tyler?

Tyler!

The way I see it,

girls are tied to beds for two reasons -

sex...

..and exorcisms.

So, which was it with you?

What time is it?

Time is irrelevant.

Where did you sleep?

I didn't.

I Fonzed it on the roof

with a spritzer and my shades on.

Eyyyy!

Whoa there, Bambi. Up.

We need to be at the restaurant for 5:30.

Ugh! Enforced family fun.

I need to piss.

Whoa!

Fine. I will piss in your bed.

We might as well prepare for the future.

One day, it's just gonna be you and me,

lying around, pissing all over each other.

Mm-hm.

- The golden years! - Ah!

How's your hue?

White piss good, amber piss bad.

You need to hydrate.

Fancy a spritzer?

I think I'm about to start my period. Are you?

Of course. The moon has married us both.

That old troublemaker? Do we have any sanitary products?

Ugh. Those abominations?

We're boycotting them, remember?

God forbid our bodies should soil the soft furnishings.

God forbid

our reality should ruin the big, jazzy fantasy!

Do we, though?

First things first. Let's get you a loosener, hmm?

Definitely.

RESYNCED BY BSpidey87

Oh, and let's get Jean out after. She needs a break.

Oh, how the mighty fall. Real estate!

Undoubtedly.

Your wee sister has forgotten how to live.

We must remind her.

There.

How could Jean resist?

The night is a zoo and the next day is its museum.

She just made that up. Off the top.

I'm a writer.

She's writing a novel.

Got a pen?

Doesn't matter.

Oh, yeah. Right up here is good.

Agh! Just keep the change.

Greetings, team.

- Hey. - Hello!

We've got shots, Jeannie. On me.

Oh! Hark at Daddy Warbucks!

How are you feeling, Dad?

Yeah, did they call yesterday?

Yeah, how's the cancer, Bill?

They'll have to find another way to get rid of me.

I'm not going yet.

- Hey, here is to that, huh? - Jeannie?

- Where's mine? - Dr Flood said none.

Dr Flood doesn't know how to live.

A Guinness will be good for my soul.

Fuck, Bill.

How's your family, Tyler?

They're fine. And very, very far away.

Here's to a good night.

Absolutely, yeah.

Let's go out after. Like old times, yeah?

Besides, I have a lot more to stick around for now,

with your impending literary success and...

And...

And?

What?

Sis...

..I'm pregnant.

Oh, shit!

- No, I want it! - Oh!

Hooray!

You're going to be an aunty.

I...

I'm just... I'm thrilled for you, Jeannie.

Really, it's... it's wonderful news.

We're clearing out the spare room

so we can have a nursery at our place.

I've been waiting so long to be a grandma.

I didn't even know you were trying.

- Mmm! - Mmm.

Ah!

OK, bitches.

It's kitty time!

Oh! Oh, God!

Fuck! Whoo!

Jeannie, fuck!

Sorry, lads.

I didn't mean to get all holy on you there

with my burning bush.

So, to our latent literary superstar.

- Oh! - How's the novel?

- Oh, it's getting there. - Must be a tome by now.

How long have you been writing it?

I don't know. Since, uh...

Since we met, so, uh... Hmm.

You can't just toss these things off. You know?

Art is hard. It's laborious.

It's not like other things in life

that can just happen... by accident.

Have I really been writing it for 10 years?

A decade?

So, you have, what, a few hundred pages?

10. I have 10 pages.

Hey, don't you sweat it, OK?

Ezra Pound took 57 years to write The Cantos.

And the days are not full enough.

And the nights are not full enough.

And life slips by

like a field mouse not shaking the grass.

Most families don't understand that it takes years

to write something that's really good.

But you guys are different.

You get it. You know? You're her... team!

Right, it's getting late. We should order.

Yeah. Starving, actually.

The smugness was tangible.

Do you think I'm a failure?

No.

The fairytale is the failure -

of imagination!

I'm not really a writer, though, am I?

I'm a tinkerer. I tinker. In between frothing milk.

Come on. Let's go realign our chakras.

- You're my team! - What?

You're my team!

Your round, toots.

OK. Give me... eight minutes. OK?

Large dry white wine, please.

We only have one kind of white wine.

Fine.

You could always go to a wine bar if you want a selection.

I don't need to go to a fucking wine bar.

I've been coming here for 15 years.

Give me two tequilas.

Now you're talking!

Oh!

I come in here at least once a week

and it's a lot nicer than me.

My dad isn't a thief, although he probably knows a few,

and as far as I know,

he's never been anywhere near the stars.

So, what do you do when you're not standing around in bars

being... enigmatic?

You really want to talk about that?