I'm bored... here's some bollocks...
Pete's House - Day
RICKY: Hey dude, what's up with your arms?
PETE: What do you mean?
RICKY: They're growing, really quickly!
PETE: Oh my god! What the hell is going on?
RICKY: You look like Mr. Tickle.
PETE: How does that help?
RICKY: Puts it in perspective.
PETE: What?! Arghh, it's freaking me out! Call an ambulance!
RICKY: And say what?
PETE: Tell them to send one here, just do something!
Ricky picks up and dials 999 on the phone.
RICKY: Ah, it's a machine. I hate these things.
PETE: Did you call the right number?
RICKY: I dialed 999. It must be an American phone.
He hangs up and dials 911.
RICKY: Hello? ... Yes ... It's my friend ... he needs an ambulance ... yeah ... no ... his arms are growing ... no, I'm serious ... yes, Mr. Tickle. Does this happen often? ... Really? ... 87 Streat Street, London, England ... yep ... ok, thank you.
He hangs up.
PETE: Well?
RICKY: They're sending an ambulance.
PETE: How long will it be?
RICKY: 11:30am... Tuesday.
PETE: Oh, well. I can't complain about that then.
RICKY: What you going to do in the mean time?
PETE: Might as well clean the guttering.
Ricky nods.
END