A: Awright pal, how’s it goin’?
B: Fucken shite, big man. Totally gutted.
A: How? Yer sister stop given ye blow jobs?
B: Yer a funny fucker, eh? Naw, she stopped when she saw yer maw given me a swatch o’ her fanny doon the street a few weeks ago.
A: My maw? She’s widnae be seen fucken died wee a pasty prick like you! Your maw, though? Ah always like how she makes me a piece and jam when she’s finished tuggin’ me aff. That’s why I’m a big fat fucker.
B: Forty years old and still slaggin’ ma maw, eh? You’re never goin’ tae grow up.
A: You’re one tae speak. “A swatch o’ her fanny?” Fuck off. Nah, mate. Am a cunt, and a funny one at that.
A: So how come yer so fucken miserable?
B: How come?
A: Aye! Whit’s maken ye look like ye found a lump on yer bollocks this mornin’?
B: Fucken Rangers. Only went and lost at hame tae Aberdeen. Sheep shagging bastards. First time in 26 year.
A: 26 year, eh? So they last time they won in Glesga was aboot the last time you were last able to see yer tiny cock withoot lookin’ in a mirror?
B: Aye, aboot the same time yer left eye and right eye last baith pointed in the same direction.
A: Fuck me, that long? But you must have expected it, though. They’ve been utter fucken mince all season.
B: Of course, but it disnae make it any easier to take, man. Honestly, Ah’ve had shites that were less of a coward than our fucken midfield. One old cunt, one fucken hairband and a tube fae Arsenal who looks like he’d rather be daen anything other than playing fitba. Ma arse is mare mobile than him and ye’ve seen ma arse!
A: You should dae whit ah dae, pal, and chuck it. Find somethin’ better tae do wi’ yer Saturday afternoons. Besides pumpin’ yer maw.
B: Ah thought aboot it. But I just cannae. It’s been too long and they’re a part o’ ma life. It would be like cuttin’ ma extremely long and fat boaby off. And ah’ve got hopes for Big Pedro.
A: Big Pedro? Funnily enough that’s what I call ma boaby. And ma boaby’s probably got a better chance o’ winnin’ the league next season.
A: Aye, that’s what I thought. Anyway, isn’t the season nearly over? At least ye’ll get some respite right?
B: Ah fucken wish. They play their first game o’ next season in just over a month.
A: Still, a lot can happen in a month, right?
B: Aye, but no that much. So how’s things wi’ you anyway?
C: Excuse me for interrupting you pair of cunts, but can ye’s no see there’s a fucken queue? You goin’ tae pay for that cans of piss or stand there gabbin’ all night?