GENE HUNT STANDS FACING HIS OFFICE DOOR PRACTISING HIS VOCALS.
GENE
Nnnnn nonce..no gruffer you poof...nnnnn nonce bastard! Better.
HURLEY AND LOCKE WALK IN.
GENE
Who the f**k are you bunch of nonce bastard? Damn Gene gruffer. Can I do that again?
LOCKE
Sure.
GENE
Who are you f**king nonce bastards?
LOCKE
I'm a mystical, bald cripple, who might be God or the devil. I like knives.
HURLEY
And I'm a lovable chubby comedy relief, who's actually St Peter or something.
LOCKE
Have you seen out smoke monster?
GENE
What? Has the fat nonce, poof, bastard farted?
HURLEY
How rude. No I haven't dude, do you have to be like so rude?
LOCKE
And shout so much?
GENE
Yes I bloody well do. 3 million menopausal housewives only watch this shite. Because they orgasm every time I f**king shout.
LOCKE
I don't remember there being a police station on the island.
GENE
No there isn't you pooftahs. you're in the wrong f**king purgatory!
HURLEY
Oh well later dudes. Any chance we could get a kebab before we go back?
LOCKE
No you fat, but amusingly lovable bastard.
HURLEY AND LOCKE LEAVE THROUGH THE EXIT.
GENE
Right where's my bloody, troubled, dead copper?
NUMBER 6 BOUNCES THROUGH THE OFFICE DOOR RIDING ROVER LIKE A SPACE HOPPER.
NUMBER 6
Wheeeee!
GENE
Oh for f**ks sake.
