Let’s see what’s going on on the telly now. Oh. It’s Men Behaving Badly on UK Gold. Let’s see what the lads are up to.
Gary: Hello Tony.
Tony: Alright mate? Fancy some beers and some birds?
Gary: No. Tony. We are not men. We are empty, souless vessels. Joyless, sexless cocoons, made of pale and sickly shells. Impotency, once a distant fear, is now a crushing inevitability. We are both dying, methaphorically and physically. I despise the man I was, I pity the man I’ve become.
Gary: And you owe me twenty year’s rent. Get the fuck out of my house. Your stuff is burning on the lawn…
(Seems a bit bleaker than I remember.)