Jim Royle: Woah-ho, if you lot take my advice, you won't go near that lavatory for at least half an hour and whatever you do don't strike a bloody match.Denise Royle: Dad, we've got company.Jim Royle: Well, it's only Dave, he's as bloody bad.Denise Royle: Why do you have to announce it every time you go to the toilet.Jim Royle: I'm only making polite conversation, what's the do with her?Denise Royle: Well, we could do without it, thanks all the same.Jim Royle: [to Barbara] And what do you keep buying that bloody cheap toilet paper for? It's cutting my arse to ribbons.Denise Royle: Mam, tell him, he's doing it on purpose now.Barbara Royle: When I was buying the dear stuff you complained.Jim Royle: [taken aback] I didn't.Barbara Royle: You did, said you 'may as well wipe your arse on pound notes.Jim Royle: [Jim starts to laugh hysterically] Oh, yeah, I did, yeah, I did, yeah.
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