My name is Ronnie O’Sullivan and if you study with my eight-week program you will learn a system of playing snooker that I developed over two seasons of fighting in pubs in Cork. It’s called O’Sullivan Kwon Do! After one week with me in my eight-week program, you’ll be prepared to play snooker with the strength of a grizzly, the reflexes of a puma, and the wisdom of a man.
[Warning: Some unintelligible salty language]
Are you havin a giggle, mate? I swear, you are one cheeky berk, mate. One more word outta you and I’ll hook you right in the gabber. I swear on me mum I’ll turn you into toast, mate. Now shut your mouth or I’m callin in me boys and you’ll be in for a proper rumble. I’ll shank your nan outside Tescos, I will. You’ll be a right mess, ya muppet.
Oi, Oi! You better watch it, mate, or I’ll do your windys in. Be careful or I’ll have ya, ya right bastid. I’ll nick your trackies faster than your nancy face can fart. You’re a load of naff, mate, and you better watch it from now on. If I catch you gawpin again I’ll give you a right pummel. Now bugger off before I lose me temper — mate.
I thought living in a cave was supposed to be a lot cheaper — and dirtier. I’m kind of disappointed. I was looking forward to moving into a cave someday, when all my children disown me, and my wife politely asks me to leave the house or she’ll call the cops. Living in a puddle of my own filth overlooking a scenic ravine seemed like a great way to spend my final days, but it turns out I can’t even afford that.
Have you got any rat poison? What sort? What’s it made of, what’s it do, why do they die? I mean, could it kill a pet? A rather large pet? A sort of, almost, person-sized pet. What would it do, to say, a 50-year-old woman? Would it dissolve her stomach and make her lungs bleed until she drowned? Could it be detected in casserole? What would it do to the face? Would it be hideously contorted? What would it do to this face? …