29 March 1997
You know me (I'm Phoning Honey), and you know what I do (I ring up the games shops and irritate them with the stupid questions).
You also know why I'm here today (it's Easter, and I've been pretending to choose an eggy gift for my spoilt nephew, Braxus).
You also know what I'm going to say now (the names of the shops have been changed to protect the innocents).
"SPECIAL GAMES", NORTH LONDON
US: Good afternoon.
SG: Good morning.
US: Easter is coming, and I don't want to get my nephew an egg, because he already has some. I want to get him a toy.
US: I want to get him a toy. A console.
SG: How can I help you?
US: I want your opinion.
SG: On what?
US: Consoles or eggs - which is best for fat, young boys?
US: It isn't funny. It's disgusting. He's obese.
SG: Well, obviously, Easter eggs aren't as expensive as a console...
US: You haven't seen the size of the egg he wants.
SG: Yeah, but the consoles are over £100 now.
US: I see... look, how much are eggs?
SG: I dunno. Couple of quid.
US: I understand. Hmmm. Look, how about I buy him a load of eggs to make up for it?
SG: To make up for what, sorry?
US: For the verbal abuse I keep giving him. I'm so awful! I mustn't say those awful things to him. Please help me, sir. Please stop me saying these things.
SG: Right. Goodbye.
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