[George has been mistaken for a teen model]
Simon Marshall:
We'd like you to give us your opinion on some clothes for teenagers.
George:
Oh, by all means. I'd be quite prepared for that eventuality.
Simon Marshall:
Well, not your REAL opinion, naturally. It'll be written out for you, and you'll learn it. Can you read?
George:
'Course I can.
Simon Marshall:
I mean LINES, ducky. Can you handle lines?
George:
Well, I'll have a bash.
Simon Marshall:
Good. Give him whatever it is they drink, uh, coke-a-rama?
George:
Ta.
Simon Marshall:
Well, at least he's polite. Show him the shirts, Adrian.
[Adrian gives George some shirts]
Simon Marshall:
Now, you'll like these. You'll really "dig" them. They're "fab," and all the other pimply hyperboles.
George:
[unimpressed]
I wouldn't be seen dead in them. They're dead grotty.
Simon Marshall:
Grotty?
George:
Yeah, GROTESQUE!
Simon Marshall:
Make a note of that word and give it to Susan. It's rather touching, really. Here's this kid, giving me his utterly valueless opinion, when I know for a fact that within a month, he'll be suffering from a violent inferiority complex and loss of status because he isn't wearing one of these nasty things! Of course they're grotty, you wretched nit! That's why they were designed! But that's what you'll want.
George:
I won't!
Simon Marshall:
You can be replaced, chickie baby.
George:
I don't care.
Simon Marshall:
And that pose is out too, Sonny Jim. The new thing is to care passionately and be right-wing.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:34