"Trace! Ere Tace, will you quit that fuckin awful owlin! I'm tryin ta think."

"Sorry Kev, dunno wot's got into me."

"Well shut it for gawd's sake."

"Why? Wot you doin?"

"Writin a letter innit. We gotta complain abaht this. We don't ave ta take it lyin dahn."

"Who you complainin to?"

"Council innit. Load a tossers. Let em sort it aht. We don't deserve this sorta treatment. Criminal I calls it!"

"Do you fink they'll do anyfin? They bloody won't! They aint sorted aht the drains. An the roofs bin leakin for monfs."

"They bloody will or I'll be rahnd there! I aint gonna live off cats, nor ave a girlfriend who looks like a bleedin alsatian wot's bin dragged froo an edge."

"Aw Kev! Don't you love me nomore? You bastard!"

"Shit Trace, I'm not kiddin."

"Well look oos talkin anyway! You've as white as a blinkin sheet! An yer eyes is all red!"

"Filthy airy slag!"

"Artless wanker!"

"Aw cummere Trace!"

"Kev!"

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"So ow far you got wiv that letter?"

"Dear Sir."

"Well finish it you lazy cunt, I aint avin my neck ripped aht again!"

"You cun talk! Anyway, didn't mean ta bite yer, me maff's fuller air!"

"Dear Sir,"....

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