Rab: [Claire is is joined by Rab] What's up? You've got a face on you like a slapped arse.Claire: No wonder. I can't get a boyfriend and she goes through them like her da goes through Jaffa Cakes.Rab: [Rab follows her gaze. Tracy's boyfriend has her pinned against a wall, kissing her] Keep it in your trousers, wee man. She's only fifteen.
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