[in a safe heist] Basher: All right chaps. Hang on to your knickers. [He triggers the bomb, and the safe door cracks open. Laughing, Basher dances into the vault - and the alarm goes off] Basher: Oh leave it out! You tossers! You had one job to do!
You don't have to signal a social conscience by looking like a frump. Lace knickers won't hasten the holocaust, you can ban the bomb in a feather boa just as well as without, and a mild interest in the length of hemlines doesn't necessarily disqualif...
Okay, on my first night, he tried to chat me up. You know how the story goes. ‘You have the most beautiful eyes, I’m very rich, want to see my bedroom?’ Blah, blah, blah.” “And because you turned him down, he’s more determined than ever,�...
Oh good, you’re ready.” “No, I’ve only just got out of the bath. What should I put on?” “Put on?” he says in obvious mystification. “Well I’ve only got a towel on.” When he still doesn’t get it I sigh. God, he’s so dense somet...
Burst pipes were an English tradition, like so many others. Like, for instance, English men. Charm the knickers off you with their mellow vowels and frivolous verbiage, and then, once they'd got them off, panic and run. Or else stay and whinge. The E...
The steel door of the incinerator went up and the muted hum of the eternal fire became a red roaring. The heat lunged out at them like a famished beast. Then Rahel's Ammu was fed to it. Her hair, her skin, her smile. Her voice. They way she used Kipl...
Now and then, an inch below the water's surface, the muscles of his stomach tightened involuntarily as he recalled another detail. A drop of water on her upper arm. Wet. An embroidered flower, a simple daisy, sewn between the cups of her bra. Her bre...
