James grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer. It’s 9:14 AM. He unscrews the cap.
A low, guttural GROAN.
pours vodka on her bacon sandwich and eats it.
(Mumbling, not awake) Don’t… touch… me… lashes… Geordie Shore
HOLY (22) is trying to make a bacon sandwich, but she’s wearing sunglasses indoors and moving like a sloth on tranquilizers. She opens the fridge. A toy chicken falls out. She screams.
Suddenly, the front door SLAMS open.
Two hours later, they are all banned from a karaoke bar called “The Crooning Cod.” James grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer
NATHAN (23) comes sliding down the banister. He is fully dressed in a glittery gold mankini. He looks alarmingly fresh.
(Voice like gravel) Why does me fanny taste like last night’s tequila? And why am I wearin’ a single sock and a traffic warden’s hat?
Morning, shaggers! I’ve just been for a dip in the North Sea. Absolutely Baltic. Me bits have retreated so far inside me, I think I’ve become a woman. Anyway, recap: Marnie got her lad out, Sophie cried in a bin, and I definitely snogged someone’s dad. A low, guttural GROAN
I’M THAT MORTIFIED, LADS. I’VE GOT GLITTER IN PLACES GLITTER SHOULD NEVER BE. I’M LIKE A HUMAN FABERGE EGG.
THE SCENE OPENS. The living room looks like a bomb hit a fancy dress shop and a kebab shop at the same time. A single, sad high heel lies on its side. A traffic cone is inexplicably on the coffee table. Confetti is stuck to everything.
RIGHT. WHO PUT A FIREWORK IN MY BEDROOM TOILET?