"Have you farted?"
"I dunno...why d'you ask?"
"You don't know if you farted?"
"You must have something wrong with you mate. If you don't even know if you've dropped a sly one."
"I didn't hear nuffink..."
"You must have felt it."
"Could 'ave. I s'ppose. P'rhaps I just dint notice..."
"Well - it stinks."
"Stinks o' wot?"
"Eggs. And cabbage."
"Can't have bin me wot floated one then..."
"Coz I 'aven't eaten no eggs or cabbage..."
"Funny you should say that. Coz 'ere's me askin' you if you've dropped the tear gas wot reeks of eggs and cabbage, and you 'aven't eaten no eggs and cabbage, whereas I had eggs and cabbage for breakfast. But I'm sure it wasn't me that dropped one."
"You had eggs and cabbage for breakfast?"
"Yers. As it every day I does."
"You dirty bastard."
"You 'as eggs and cabbage for brekky every day, and you've got the fuckin' audacity to ask me if I've blown me trumpet?"
"Yers, well, yer see...can't 'ave bin me, can it."
"Coz I don't fart. Ever."
"That's bollocks is that. Everybody farts sometime."
"Fuck off! You tellin' me that you 'ave never farted?"
"On my honour. I has never passed a windy biscuit."
"Wot's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're a bleedin' liar! You fuckin' humpty backed twat! You 'as cabbage and eggs for breakfast every day, and you've got the fuckin' brass neck to accuse me of farting! When I never!"
"Well it wasn't me. Coz I don't fart. And by a process of elimination, that only leaves you."
"But I dunno if I farted or not. Did you have mayonnaise wiv it?"
"Wiv yer cabbage and eggs and that."
"Of course I 'ad fuckin' mayonnaise wiv it. Yer can't 'ave cabbage and eggs wivout mayonnaise. That would be friggin' stupid. And I am not stupid. You can call me wot yer likes, but I ain't fuckin' stupid..."
"So, wot d'yer do wiv der mayonnaise?"
"Are you fick or wot? I does wot every civilianised human bein' does - I mixes the mayonnaise wiv der baked beans an' der stewed prunes, in der blender, like, wiv arf a gallon o' Guinness, then I pours it over the cabbage, the eggs, and the cauliflower cheese..."
"I fuckin' eats it. Yer numpty cunt. Wot you fink I fuckin' does wiv it? Gives it the farkin' cat?"
"You ain't got a cat..."
"True. And 'appen just as well. Coz if I did 'ave a cat, and it scoffed my fuckin' breakfast, I should have no alternative, uvver than to give it a boot up the bollocks. It'd 'ave to be a tom cat though. Otherwise I couldn't boot it up the bollocks. Obviously."
"I see where you're coming from there. If it was a she cat, you couldn't very well boot it up the bollocks..."
"Exactly. I'd have to kick it in the cunt."
"In the cunt...yers. Makes sense. So - tell me...You accuses me o' fartin' when I've had fuck all but bran flakes, wiv a splash o' pistulised milk, and all along, you've bin fuckin' scoffin' eggs, cabbage, Guinness, cauliflower cheese, baked beans, mayonnaise..."
"Wiv chilli sauce..."
"Wiv fuckin' chilli sauce as well! No fuckin' wonder you fuckin' stink like a rickshaw driver's flip-flop! And you're tryin' to tell me you don't fart! You must have an arse hole like a fuckin' shredded tyre!"
"My arse hole is in perfect working order, I'll 'ave you know, my good man."
"Bollocks. Stead o' kickin' the cat up the bollocks or in the cunt, wot you need to do is boot yourslef up the arse! You must be fuckin' mingin'! Mate!"
"Well - if it woz me wot farted, it wuz the first time. Ever. And if that is indeed the case, I apologise unreservedly. To you. You cunt."
"S'all right. Anyway, enough of all this talk about arseholes, farting, cabbage, eggs, baked beans, chilli sauce, cauliflower cheese, mayonnaise, and fuckin' Guinness...you fancy a pint down the Nag's 'Ead?"
"Yeah. Good idea that. But I shall 'ave to nip 'ome first..."
"I 'ave reason to believe I've just shit meself."