Just a short extract from a pub theatre play i'm working on.
SET IN A PUB, TWO BLOKES HAVING A CHAT OVER A PINT.
BRUCE: You had the right idea son: i should have taken a leaf out of your book.
ROGER: How'd you mean?
BRUCE: Divorce! Best thing you ever did, nothing but bloody trouble.
ROGER: It'll be five years next week...you know even after all this time, i still think i'll wake up to freshly ironed shirts.
BRUCE: Oh yours could iron? well that was a bonus...how's your father keeping? i've not seen him for a while.
ROGER: Not too good, i took him to the hospital this afternoon, he's just been diagnosed with parkinson's.
BRUCE: That's a shame, the bloke over the road has that, poor old bugger can't pick his nose without poking himself in the eye.
ROGER: Your mate Charlie Sanderson was there...at the hospital.
BRUCE: He's no mate of mine the thieving git! He'll take anything if it's not nailed down...what's wrong with him?
ROGER: I think he has housemaids knee.
BRUCE: Told you, he'll have her bloody handbag as well if she's not careful.
ROGER: Has your Peter found a job yet?
BRUCE: Don't talk daft! Lazy little swine, he tried tapping me for fifty quid to go clubbing, i said "go and see your mother," anyway he came back saying "she hasn't any money either," i said " i know," "i just wanted you to see what i ended up with when i went clubbing," if that doesn't put him off nothing will.