Mr Barnard: What do you want?
Man: Well I was told outside...
Mr Barnard: Don't give me that you snotty-faced heap of parrot droppings!
Man: What?
Mr Barnard: Shut your festering gob you tit! Your type makes me puke! You vacuous toffee-nosed malodorous pervert!
Man: Look, I came here for an argument!
Mr Barnard: (apologetic) Oh, I'm sorry. This is abuse. No, you want room 12A next door.
Man: I see, sorry!
Mr Barnard: Not at all. (the man exits) Stupid git.
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