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Brittany : Darlings, I don’t steal. It’s called re-appropriation. And I am very generous towards myself that way.

Brittany. Mitchell is fanciful.  It’s a family trait.  You don’t want to believe a word he says.

Brittany. Me? Three slices of pork?  What do you think I am? Desperate? As for anyone helping themselves to anything, I hope you are going to ask him about my six packets of fags. All right it was three.

Brittany. A recipe? Are we kidding here? What do you think I am Mrs Beeton’s cookbook? As I said to Mitchell, ‘I think we’ve all got it that I’m not  a Georgian housewife,’ all right?’

Brittany. I thought I had.  I mean this speaks for itself doesn’t it?

 Brittany. Well darlings, where else would you be kept? I mean let’s face it, you have everything there, lovely little beds of straw, nice corners where you can play with your balls all day. What’s the problem? If Sebastian hadn’t done that I would have run a mile I tell you. But maybe he’d have liked that.

Brittany,  Oh now then dudes, there really is no need to get your little hamster knickers in a twist assuming you wear them.  Why do people always want to throw things at me?  Oh very well. So long as you don’t eat my fags or drink my voddie we’re good, little dudes and I swear to uphold the rights of little hamster dudes to fight for world domination.  Do we have a deal here?

 Brittany. All right darlings, it’s been lovely meeting you too. Now I really must go, you know pop off down to supper, even though it’s unlikely there will be anything to eat there… Unless…

Brittany. What’s that? Some sort of exotic cocktail? You know I thought you lot welcomed writers here?

Brittany Well darling here’s what I think.

Brittany-  and that goes for hamster dudes too. Unless you’re going to you know– open the vodka and do the Cossack dance for me like you do for everyone else? Hmm?? I don’t know about you but I am gasping. A shot of that Uzi would be nice…

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