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Six best friends talk about all aspects of sex and relationships on their never-ending quest to find true love.
Jeff: When God made the arse, he didn't say, 'Hey, it's just your basic hinge, let's knock off early.' He said, 'Behold ye angels, I have created the arse. Throughout the ages to come, men and women shall grab hold of these, and shout my name!
Jane: I'm being stalked, actually, so I'm pretty secure in my attractiveness. Susan: You're being stalked? Jane: Is that so hard to believe? Sally: My god! Jane: Everyday on my way home from work, a man follows me. It's true. Susan: Well, have you been to the police? Jane: They said I was being silly and paranoid. I heard them laughing after I left. Sally: That's terrible! Susan: Well, have you confronted the man who follows you? Jane: Well, there's no point, is there? It's never the same man twice. Sometimes they switch over when I'm halfway home. It's so well organized!
Patrick: It was just so embarrassing. I didn't know what to do. Steve: Happens to us all mate. Jeff: All of us, in our time, are visited by the melty man. Patrick: The what? Jeff: Don't say his name, Patrick. Don't even think his name or he will rise from the shadow dimensions to do his evil work on your terrified pants. Patrick: [chuckle] Terrified pants? Steve: [gravely] There's nothing funny about the melty man, Patrick. Patrick: [face falls] You know about the melty man, too? Steve: [in a "duh!" voice] We all know the melty man. Patrick: Who is he? Steve: The archenemy of trouser confidence. Jeff: Professor Moriarty. In groin form. Steve: Darth Vader Jeff: Without the helmet. Patrick: [terrified and shocked] What does he do? Jeff: Patrick, you *know* what he does. Patrick: [looks down] Oh right. Jeff: You're in bed with a woman. Everything's going fine. That's when the melty man strikes. Steve: Suddenly you find yourself thinking, "Maybe she's really bored". Jeff: Maybe you're licking her neck too much. Are you over-wetting her neck? Steve: Are you spending an equal amount of time on each breast? I mean, what if one breast gets ahead? Jeff: Should you be switching between them really quickly or should you squish 'em both together and do them at once [demonstrates] Patrick: [frowns] Steve: Or should you skip one breast completely just to save time? Jeff: She's wriggling about. Is that a good sign or is she just trying to dry her neck?
Steve: Jeff, every morning I wake up glad I'm not you. Jeff: Me too.
Steve: This is not, I repeat, *not* an American sitcom!
Sally: [trying to explain to Patrick what platonic friendship with a woman is] What do you call people you go out with but don't try to sleep with? Patrick: [beat] Men.
Susan: Some men were born lucky. Some men were born very lucky. Sally: What was Patrick born? Susan: A tripod.
Jeff: There's a supermodel who shags total prats and I don't know where she lives...
Sally: I hate having sex at home. I've got a listening flatmate. Jane: Oh no, I hate those. Do you have to be really quiet for her? Sally: No, I have to be really loud. We're very competitive.
Steve: What is this? Susan: It's a cushion. Steve: Right. Yes. Thank you for that. Very informative. [to Jeff] Steve: You got any of these? Jeff: No. Steve: Of course you haven't. [to shop assistant] Steve: You - are you married? Living with anyone? Junior Shop Assistant: No. Steve: Got any of these? Junior Shop Assistant: No. Steve: Of course not. Okay! [to the women] Steve: You bring these things into our homes. They sit on our chairs. They watch our televisions. Now, I just need to know, on behalf of all men everywhere, I just need to ask, please... What are they for? I mean, look at them! Look at the chubby little bastards! Just sitting around everywhere! What are they, pets for chairs? [to shop assistants] Steve: Come on, you sell them. What are they for? Junior Shop Assistant: Well... Senior Shop Assistant: You sit on them. Steve: Ah! Ha ha ha! You see, that's where you're wrong! Nobody sits on them. Okay, watch this. Here's the cushion. I'm putting it on the sofa. Now watch me. I'm stting down. And what do I do on my final approach? I - oh! - move the cushion! You see? It's not involved! It's not part of the whole sitting process. It just lies there. It's fat litter! It's a sofa parasite! Jane: It's, you know... padding. Steve: Oh, padding! Now, that's interesting, Jane. See, I like padding. If I was, say, an American Football player, and all those big bastards running at me, I would say "give me some of that padding and be quick about it." If my job involved bouncing down jagged rocks I would say "in view of those jagged rocks down there, I'll have some of that padding, thank you very much." But Susan, Sally, Jane, this is a sofa. It is designed by clever scientists in such a way as to shield the unprotected user from the risk of skin abrasions, serious head trauma, and, of course... [drops behind sofa, then sticks head out] Steve: Daleks. Trust me girls, trust me on this one: you do not need padding to tackle upholstery. So please - once and for all, tell me why on Earth you would want me to sit on one of these? Susan: Because, if you pressed it firmly against your bottom, it might stop you talking!
Steve: [about what Jeff said to Audrey Watkins at his flat warming party] The worst chat-up line in the history of sex "You're so beautiful you should be embalmed".
Jane: Do they really call me the one with the breasts? Susan: Yes. Jane: Then what do they call you? Susan: Susan.
Patrick: If I don't like a woman, if there's no chemistry, if I'm not attracted to her, then I don't lead her on. I just get out of there. Sally: Really? Patrick: Everytime, before she *even* wakes up. Sally: So you do have sex with them, then? Patrick: Well, there's no need to be cruel, is there?
Steve: [to Patrick] Your DNA must cry itself to sleep at night.
Jane: I really quite like being single. Except for the bit about not having a man.
Sally: A woman with clothes on has negotiating power.
Patrick: Sometimes a man must choose between the right way and the wrong way... and misses by one.
Sally: Patrick, when I said I wanted to have a baby with you, I just meant... socially. Patrick: Socially? Sally: To tea. Patrick: Babies can't come round to tea, Sally.
[Susan is about to show the others one of her breasts] Susan: Well? Which one do you want? The left one or the right one? Patrick: The right one. [to others] Patrick: Trust me. Susan: Why? What's wrong with the left one? Patrick: Now, don't be like that. There has to be a second place. Susan: Well, I wasn't aware you were judging them individually! Patrick: You were asleep! I was bored!
Jane: I'm just feeling so ridiculously horny. I swear, if I didn't have my heart set on having sex with a man, you two would be in serious trouble. Sally: I could never have sex with another woman. What if she had a smaller bottom? Susan: Excuse me! I have a crisis here way above bottoms on the crisis scale. Sally: We're women. There is nothing above bottoms on the crisis scale. Bottoms are our natural enemy. Susan: Sally, please... Sally: They follow us around our entire lives, right behind us and constantly growing. How do they do that? I'm sure mine's back there secretly snacking.
Howard: [trying to explain to Jane that he's gay] Jane! [shouts] Howard: I am gay! And I've always, always been gay! I was the sperm at the back shouting "No! Don't send me into that big scary cave!" I was the only sperm who had to be chased by the egg. Don't you get it? I'm gay.
Jane: He works in pizza delivery, which just answers all your prayers, doesn't it? Man, motorbike, has own food!
Jane: I am Giselle. [imitates whiplash] Jane: I am a French bitch.
Sally: [finds an engagement ring in a box labeled "Sally don't look in this box."] This is an engagement ring. Patrick: Yes it is. Sally: An engagement ring! Do you have a girlfriend? Patrick: Yes, Sally. [pause] Patrick: You. Sally: Me? Patrick: Yes, you. Sally: Who are you proposing to then? Patrick: Who do you think? Sally: I... I... Patrick: I was waiting - I was waiting, as it happens, for the right romantic moment. Sally: [Looks around at the mess she made] Fuck.
Jeff: She thinks I'm a mute with a balance problem.
Jane: Friendship's more lasting than love, and more legal than stalking.
Jeff: I love the word naked, it's brilliant isn't it, 'naked'. When I was a kid I used to write the word naked on a bit of paper hundreds of times and rub my face in it.
Jeff: Maybe women are completely different when we're not with them. Maybe they're not cross all the time.
[Talking to Jane and Susan] Sally: At least you've been in there with Patrick. I've passed on my opportunity to be "Patricked."
Susan: Well, you know what it's like at the start, when they're all fiery-eyed, and eager, and they haven't seen you naked yet. And it's like he's smashing at your door with his mighty battering ram. And he's promising to ravish you forever. So you brace yourself for man overload, and throw open the doors, and what do you find standing there? An oversized toddler who wants his dinner. And before you can say, "There's been a terrible mistake," he's snoring on your sofa, the fridge is full of empty bottles and the whole place smells of feet.
Steve: I never bite heads off live fetuses. Susan: Words never before uttered at a pregnancy convention.
Tamsin: So are you seeing anyone? Oliver Morris: Well, no. I guess it's a bit too soon for all that. For both of us really, isn't it? [pause] Oliver Morris: *Isn't it?* Tamsin: It's been a year... Oliver Morris: Well, no we only spli... Tamsin: ...since we had sex... Oliver Morris: Well actually it's been just under a... Tamsin: ...both of us successfully. Oliver Morris: Okay.
Sally: [singing] I'm Susan the happy trotting elf! I trot and trot and bounce and bounce and smile a lot and that's what counts! I'm Susan the happy trotting smile a lotting elf! I'm polite so just for clarity, when I'm cross I say "Apparently!"
[Oliver gets out of the elevator, and decides to check himself out in the mirror. The sweater he is wearing to cover his nipples says "Bring Back Doctor Who."] Oliver Morris: Shit! [Oliver takes the sweater off and throws it in the elevator. He touches his chest, and realises he's half naked. He tries to open the lift doors without success. Behind him, the door opens. He looks around, covering his nipples] Jane: Hello, Oliver. Oliver Morris: Hello, Jane. Jane: Well, you found the place all right, then. Oliver Morris: [trying to sound macho] Yeah. No problem. Cool. [pause] Jane: Oliver. Oliver Morris: Yes, Jane? [pause] Jane: Is there something you want to tell me? [pause] Oliver Morris: I have miniature erections.
[Angus, staring at Mariella, opens a can of soda, which sprays all over Mariella] Angus Deayton: Sorry about that. Mariella Frostrup: Oh, don't worry about it. It happens to a lot of guys. [beat] Mariella Frostrup: Did I really just say that?
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