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(Jeff and Ron are leafing through magazines in the newsagent.)
JEFF: Ah yes, these look like the right mags for me. New Scientist, Microbiology Weekly, and Atomic Plasma Research Enthusiast.
RON: But every month you buy those magazines, look at the pictures, look at some of the words, look at the dictionary, look back at the pictures, and then screw up the magazine in disgust and throw it away.
JEFF: So what have you got there, Einstein?
RON: I ummm, you know how I take more of an interest in... ummm... naturist publications?
JEFF: You mean porn?
RON: Shhh, shhh. It's not so much porn... it's just that I like to admire the beauty of the human form.
JEFF: Yeah, I've noticed how you like to creep off somewhere on your own to admire the beauty of the human form, in all it's natural splendour, especially when the human form concerned is a large breasted bimbo with interesting underwear. So, are you going to purchase these aforementioned journals of the soul?
RON: Ummm.. yeah. Look, you know how it is. Would you.. umm... Well, it's like...
JEFF: Let me guess. Let me try and work out what you're about to say here. You want me to slip your "Big Bouncy Bonking Buttocks Monthly" and "Slinky Silky Sexpots Review"; your journals of the wobbly body, in between my journals of the mind, in the vain hope that the guy at the counter doesn't notice and tell your mother?
RON: Yup.
JEFF: And after we've looked at our own magazines, can we swap?
RON: Yup.
JEFF: Deal.
7: Job Interview
