[021: VOICE]

[makesfolktalky]

All them inventions yesterday an' not one person thought t'make up a proper pint... Can't bloody believe that.

[Ray huffs, pausing to think about that. Or possibly just for a drag off his cigarette. The latter, of course, is far more likely.]

Mind you, might be jus' as well no one did. Prob'ly would've jus' wound up makin' it even smaller, or

Comments

[cuffyoutwice]

I'll buy you a bottle if it's that annoying.

[makesfolktalky]

Make it sommat that don't taste like piss an' I'll take you up on that.

[cuffyoutwice]

[No, Beckett. Getting Ray a Zima is not a funny idea...]

Gonna be tough. I'm a wussy American drinker, remember.

[makesfolktalky]

[Yes, it is. Even if he would disagree.]

Can't be that 'ard, can it? Jus' get what you don't like an' that'd prob'ly be a proper drink, yeah?

[cuffyoutwice]

[...A belated present for becoming Head of Intel, perhaps!]

Your logic astounds me.

[makesfolktalky]

Jus' common sense, innit?

[cuffyoutwice]

Genius in its simplicity.