Marwood:
There's a man over there that doesn't like the perfume, the big one. Don't look, don't look! We're in danger, we've got to get out.
Withnail:
What are you talking about?
Marwood:
I've been called a ponce.
Withnail:
[cockily]
What fucker said that?
[the man who called Marwood a ponce gets up and walks over to them. He is even taller than Withnail and much more burly. Withnail freezes in terror with a mouthful of pie]
Irishman:
I called him a ponce. And now I'm calling you one. Ponce!
Withnail:
[smiling]
Would you like a drink?
Irishman:
[ripping Withnail's tartan scarf off his neck]
What's your name, MacFuck?
Withnail:
I have a heart condition. I have a heart condition, if you hit me it's murder.
Irishman:
I'll murder the pair of yers!
Withnail:
[eyes filling with tears]
My wife is having a baby. Listen, I don't know what my f... acquaintance did to upset you but it's nothing to do with me. I suggest you both go outside and discuss it sensibly, in the street.
[Withnail suddenly runs out of the pub, so does Marwood]
Withnail:
*Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrggghhh*!
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:38
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