'Oh god my head.'

'Dude, your house is trashed.'

'What happened last night.'

'All I remember is a bucket of chicken. A baseball baby some cat videos and a rubber squeaky toy.'

'I don't know where you were but I'm pretty sure there was a stripped donkey, some clown paint and sparky.'

'Your dog?'

'No, the gol- where's my fucking goldfish.'

'Cindy took him.'

'The hell she do that?'

'Like I know man. Now back to the turkey sandwich and the jar of peanut butter.'

'Was that before or after we stole that car?'

'Dude, I think we need to stop playing your Xbox and passing out drunk.'

'Fuck, you're right. But Cindy really took fucking sparky?'

'Yeah. Right after she dumped your ass.'

The Scene: It is dawn in a leafy lane just half a mile from Londonderry. Two old friends lie fast asleep in a muddy ditch. The first to waken rouses the other.

Sean: Peter wake up now. Peter, wake up!

Peter: (emits a loud fart, and begins to snore).

Sean: Peter, for the luv o' god wake up willya, damn yer foul arse bastid WAKE UP!

Peter: (opens one bloodshot eye) Sure wot's a man got to do for an hours kip, leave me be willya.

Sean: (becoming agitated) Willya just wake up man, I saw it, I saw it I tell ya I SAW it.

Peter: (finally awake and not in the most charitable of moods) The fuck are you going on about now? Is it not enough that I have to wake up lookin' at yer ugly puss, that I have to listen to yer fuckin' bollix and all, saw what?

Sean: The fuckin' ting man, I saw it flyin' across the field, it was all lit up an' flyin' across the fuckin' field.

Peter: Fuck me 'ere we go again (heavy sigh), okay, tell me yer story, what did yer see?

Sean: (gesticulating wildly) I SAW THE FUCKIN' TING.

Peter: (also beginning to lose the plot) Okay, okay, yes, I knew it, yer saw the flyin' ting again, well why not tell me where yer saw it?

Sean: (feeling excited to have an audience at last) It was in the field were we was man, it was 'overin' then it jus' flew off.

Peter: What fuckin' field? I don't remember no fuckin' field.

Sean: Oh Peter will yer please just think fer a bloody minit, the field we was walkin' through after we left the fuckin' pub.

Peter: The pub? What fuckin' pub? I don't remember no fuckin' pub! Which pub was we in?

Sean: I can't remember either, but it was flyin' across the field all lit up, remember man? Oh for the luv o' God almighty, the fuckin' field man, the field were you fell over.

Peter: (perplexed) I fell over? Where did I fall over?

Sean: (beginning to froth) In the fuckin' field!

....continued on page xxvii