In which... well, there's a tax audit...

{Open on Nolan and Balvin’s lounge}

Balvin:                        So?

Nolan:                        **** off, I’m not in the mood.

Balvin:                        Wow that’s harsh.

Nolan:                        Harsh?! Harsh?! You want ****ing harsh?! I’ll give you harsh!

{I think Nolan might be a little tetchy}

Balvin:                        Tetchy? You class this as tetchy?

Nolan:                        **** off Tarquin!

Balvin:                        Wow.

{I was trying to defend you, Nolan}

{enter Blaxploitation Man}

Blax:                            Eh up me cock, ‘ow do.

Balvin:                        There really is no need for you to pretend to be from Yorkshire anymore, John.

Blax:                            Oh thank God for that.

Nolan:                        **** off John!

Balvin:                        Oh now, there really is no need to take it out on John, whatever it is.

Nolan:                        No need?! No ****ing need?!

{Nolan jumps to his feet, runs out of the room, slams the door, reopens the door, gives everyone the finger, then slams the door again}

{pause}

Balvin:                        Wow.

Blax:                            {sitting down on the sofa, rearranging his manliness in a deliberate styley} So, umm, what’s going on with Nolan?

Balvin:                        Meh, Frank The Elephant accidentally under reported Nolan’s gross income for last year, resulting in him getting a harsh tax audit.

Blax:                            Oh, that wasn’t Frank, that was me.

Balvin:                        That was you?

Blax:                            That was me.

Balvin:                        But why?

Blax:                            {shrugs} I dunno, just felt like it. The guy’s an idiot. Peg or two. Taken down, styley.

Balvin:                        Uh, riiiighht.

{So, John, what’s this I hear about…}

Blax:                            Don’t you dare ask…

{About…}

Blax:                            I’m warning you…

Balvin:                        Oh, the secret cow library?

Blax:                            Ohh you did NOT just mention the cow library!!

{He clearly did}

Blax:                            You DID NOT just mention the cow library!!!

Balvin:                        What’s the problem? It’s only a cow library?

{enter Nolan}

Nolan:                        Even I know not to mention the {whispers} cow library

Blax:                            YOU DID NOT just mention the mother****ing cow library!!!!

Nolan:                        Seriously John, chill.

Balvin:                        {frowns} How did you suddenly get so calm?

Nolan:                        Me? Me? I’m always clam.

Balvin:                        Clam?

Nolan:                        Clam. I’m always clam. I love being clam.

Blax:                            YOU DID NOT JUST…

Balvin:                        Oh John, we’ve moved on from that.

Blax:                            What? Uh, okay. {exit}

Nolan:                        You know what I realised?

Balvin:                        You’ve got exceptionally small genetalia?

Nolan:                        Haha, maybe. But really, what I realised is that I should face my problems, rather than raging about them.

Balvin:                        Uh right?

Nolan:                        Yah. I’ve murdered Frank The Elephant. Everything’s cool now.

{please let me tell him}

Balvin:                        Ha! No way Tarquin! Nolan – John Shaft was the one who under reported your gross income for last year!

{oh you swine}

Nolan:                        Wait, what?

Balvin:                        It’s John’s fault you got that harsh tax audit, not Frank’s.

Nolan:                        Wait, what?

Balvin:                        I think you owe Frank an apology.

Nolan:                        Oh no, no, no, I don’t owe Frank an apology.

Balvin:                        But he didn’t…

Nolan:                        Oh, I know that. But it wasn’t John Blaxpoitation Man Shaft who made that huge mess on my carpet.

{fin}