Fresh Meat

I'm running to be the next president of the Student Union

and I'm thinking of being Labour.

What's in it for me? Sell it to me.

Normally, WE vet candidates, rather than have the candidates vet us.

Oh, right. Typical politician, twisting everything around.

Are you familiar with our policies?

You need to be able to articulate why people should vote for us.

Oh, right. So, it's all about good grammar and elocution lessons. I should join the Tories,

is that what you're saying? I'm not saying that. Now you're twisting MY words. Am I?

Or are YOU twisting my words?

No.

You're twisting my words.

You see, this is why everyone thinks Blair's a cunt. Forget it.

Obviously, I've got a problem with the whole...

anti-Europe thing cos I like to go to Amsterdam a lot.

Also, I hate everything about you.

I just came in to have a go.

Plus, I love KFC.

Guessing that's a bit of a deal-breaker?

Nah.

Candice, um...

I have something to ask you.

Would you be interested in...

getting me a yogurt from the fridge?

Can't you just get it yourself?

Yes.

This is the drawing room.

There's a lot of slugs, but don't worry, I'll kill them.

And the shower's blocked.

Pubes. Howard's probably.

But don't worry. I'll, er, de-pube it.

TV, it's got a wok in it. I'll probably chuck the TV.

Might keep the wok. What's going on?

I'm selling the house.

What? That's right. I'm selling the house.

This shitty university is full of people that don't care about me.

So, from now on, I'm all about number one.

So, how's that going to be different?

Kindly pass the eviction notice on to Josie

and He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named

aka He-Who-Is-A-Massive-Shithead.

They're on day two of their relationship summit.

I overheard Kingsley doing that strangulated gargling thing

he does when he's very stressed. It does not bode well.

Good. Well, I hope that she dumps him, he kills himself

and then she takes a piss on his corpse

because THAT is what he deserves.

Well, I'll be union president,

so I'll be getting paid and probably renting somewhere.

Well, no. I'll be president of the union.

You, er, don't mind if I roach a little bit of your postcard, do you?

All right, Vod. You've had your fun. It's all a big joke.

Ah-ha, ah-ha-ha.

But we both know that you're not going to go through with this.

You don't stand a chance.

You think I'm an idiot, don't you? Well, if I'm an idiot

how come we're so close in the surveys?

Polls. They're called polls. Whatever.

And it's not exactly MORI.

It's a website run by a man who calls himself David Dimbledick

and uses a picture of a penis as a swingometer.

No-one will actually vote for you. No-one.

Oh, right. What about you, Candice? You'll vote for me, won't you?

No. Why not? You don't have any policies.

Yeah, I do. Cheap chips.

You have one policy. I don't think one policy is enough.

What about you, Japes? You'll vote for me, right?

No.

Because?

Because you owe me £1,000 in back rent.

Howard!

Democracy is an illusion.

I WILL be taking part in its ritualistic charade,

but only in order to spoil my ballot paper

which I will do by making lists of contemporary human rights abuses,

such as Facebook's privacy settings.

Hey, babe, would you like some juice?

Oh, I'd love some. Can I get you some cereal?

Aw, hun, thanks! God, isn't he great?

Right. What's happening?

Nothing. We're just happy.

Oh. So, you broke up?

Hey, what about Sexy Mike? Didn't you quite like Sexy Mike?

Oh, God, yeah. And Big Dick Mike.

Oh, God, yeah. Who could forget Big Dick Mike?

I don't know cos I certainly haven't.

What about those girls in the record store?

You liked them, didn't you? "Watch out, ladies. The Pussyman's on the prowl!" Ha! Yeah. Rrrrr!

What the hairy hell is going on?

Nothing. No biggie.

We've just decided to have an open relationship.

Oh. So, you're available?

I know it sounds incredibly bohemian and, well, actually, it is.

But we'll still be going out. We can just see other people if we want.

So, you're available?

It's like, why would you have the same dinner over and over again

when you could sample a range of items from the sex mezze?

Hmm. Interesting. Like a kind of genital all-you-can-eat.

Obviously, we're going to fancy other people. That's natural.

We're young. That doesn't go away until you're, like, I dunno, 29.

So, we're doing the whole Scandinavian thing.

What, serial killing? Being free.

You should not be messing with this.

This is black-belt screw-jitsu. Have you written up the rules?

We don't need rules.

So, you're definitely available?

Although I did say one rule should be that Josie can't sleep with JP.

Yeah, you do need rules cos otherwise it's fucking carnage.

It gets all, "He's fucking her so I'm fucking him."

"He's having a threesome with two other girls. Right.

"I'm having two threesomes with four other blokes."

And before you know it, one of you

is blowing a donkey in a car park full of truckers.

You need rules.

What's going on?

The open relationship. I'd like to apply for a position.

Er, it doesn't really work like that.

Please, hear me out. Take a seat.

I've prepared a brief PowerPoint presentation. What?

Accessibility.

I live only metres away from your bed

which means, due to my unique position within the market place,

I can respond to your demands almost immediately.

I can be in your bedroom, naked, in 18 seconds.

That is pretty quick. Familiarity.

We've had sex before. We already have a good working relationship.

Reliability. I orgasm or my money back?

I can be trusted to deliver a quality product,

even under trying circumstances or on a tight deadline.

I've got a proven track record.

Compatibility. I have a cock.

You have a vagina.

My cock works in your vagina.

Therefore, I am Josie-compatible.

Forbidden Fruit. Kingsley says we can't have sex with each other

which is all the more reason to have sex with each other

because as we all know, forbidden fruit...

tastes the fruitiest.

So, in conclusion, I think that me and you are the perfect match.

We're like Fortnum and Mason or gull's eggs and celery salt.

So, I think if you drill down into my proposal

you'll find there really is no downside.

Thank you. Look, I'm touched by your PowerPoint presentation.

What girl wouldn't be?

But I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no.

That slide only really works if you'd said yes.

Candice...

I know I have missed my opportunity to be with you

because I am stupid and pathetic and a coward and self-destructive

and I was rude to you about the party when I shouldn't have been,

but the fact is...

I actually like you...

a lot.

So would you please not kiss Goth Gary outside my window.

We weren't kissing. His lip-ring got caught on my earring.

I thought you were having a long, erotic kiss.

No. We were having a long, un-erotic tussle,

followed by a very short, un-erotic tearing of my ear cartilage.

But you are going out?

No. I thought about it, but it didn't seem right.

Then...

Then...

would you go out with me?

Yeah.

Really? Yeah. I'd like that.

OK.

Great.

I don't know what to do now so I'm going to go back in my room.

Seriously, were you dropped on your head as a child?

I'm not some hick from Didsbury or Timperley. I'm from London

where they have all the jobs and the money. You know, London,

where they film the helicopter shots for The Apprentice

and they film the rest of The Apprentice.

My point is, I know about business, so sort it out.

Jacket potato, please. With cheese.

Yes, I have taken the wok out of the television

which means now it's time that you up keep your end of the bargain

and get me some viewings. Goodbye.

J-penis, How goes it? I'm standing as the Tory candidate.

The first steps on the inevitable road to Number Ten.

Well, not sure I want a career in politics, really.

But it keeps the old man happy.

Well, of course I can count on your vote. No.

Sorry, what's that? I thought for a moment you said, "No." That's right.

I don't do anything for anyone any more.

I'm all about number one.

Dude, that is EXACTLY why I'm standing.

I represent everyone who's only interested in themselves.

Can't talk. Got a potato.

Laters.

But... No!

I can get another ticket to Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds.

I thought, bit of a novelty, you might like to come.

Yeah. Um, I dunno...

because you know I don't like your music. Yeah, just give it a try.

Have a listen.

What do you think?

I don't like it. It's only just started.

Oh, I still don't like it. Wait till the chorus kicks in.

I don't like it. Why don't you like it?