Alex: [narrating] There were some sophistos from the TV studios around the corner, laughing and gavreeting. The devotchka was smecking away, not caring about the wicked world one bit. Then the disc on the stereo twanged off and out. And in the short silence before the next one came on, she suddenly came with a burst of singing. [the woman starts singing. Alex watches, with a smile creeping across his face] And it was like, for a moment, O my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar. And I felt all the malenky little hairs on my plott standing endwise, and the shivers crawling up like slow, malenky lizards, and then down again. Because I knew what she sang. It was a bit from the Glorious Ninth by Ludwig Van.
[Dim derisively rasps at the woman, but Alex angrily smashes him across the legs with his cane]
Dim: What did you do that for?
Alex: For being a bastard with no manners, you haven't a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother! [smiles at the woman and raises his glass to her]
Dim: I don't like you should do what you've done and I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be.
Alex: Watch that, do watch that O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou, dost wist?
[The sophistos, and a couple of bouncers, watch the exchange nervously from their tables, while Pete and Georgie stare at their boots]
Dim: Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you! I'll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime. I'm not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. It stands to reason, I won't have it.
Alex: A nozh scrap anytime you say.
['uncomfortable pause]
Dim: Doobiedoob, a bit tired maybe, best not to say more. Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right-right?
Pete and Georgie: Right-right.
Alex: Right-right.
[Dim derisively rasps at the woman, but Alex angrily smashes him across the legs with his cane]
Dim: What did you do that for?
Alex: For being a bastard with no manners, you haven't a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother! [smiles at the woman and raises his glass to her]
Dim: I don't like you should do what you've done and I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be.
Alex: Watch that, do watch that O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou, dost wist?
[The sophistos, and a couple of bouncers, watch the exchange nervously from their tables, while Pete and Georgie stare at their boots]
Dim: Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you! I'll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime. I'm not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. It stands to reason, I won't have it.
Alex: A nozh scrap anytime you say.
['uncomfortable pause]
Dim: Doobiedoob, a bit tired maybe, best not to say more. Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right-right?
Pete and Georgie: Right-right.
Alex: Right-right.
Alex : [narrating] There were some sophistos from the TV studios around the corner, laughing and gavreeting. The devotchka was smecking away, not caring about the wicked world one bit. Then the disc on the stereo twanged off and out. And in the short silence before the next one came on, she suddenly came with a burst of singing. [the woman starts singing. Alex watches, with a smile creeping across his face] And it was like, for a moment, O my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar. And I felt all the malenky little hairs on my plott standing endwise, and the shivers crawling up like slow, malenky lizards, and then down again. Because I knew what she sang. It was a bit from the Glorious Ninth by Ludwig Van.
[Dim derisively rasps at the woman, but Alex angrily smashes him across the legs with his cane]
Dim : What did you do that for?
Alex : For being a bastard with no manners, you haven't a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother! [smiles at the woman and raises his glass to her]
Dim : I don't like you should do what you've done and I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be.
Alex : Watch that, do watch that O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou, dost wist?
[The sophistos, and a couple of bouncers, watch the exchange nervously from their tables, while Pete and Georgie stare at their boots]
Dim : Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you! I'll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime. I'm not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. It stands to reason, I won't have it.
Alex : A nozh scrap anytime you say.
[' uncomfortable pause ]
Dim : Doobiedoob, a bit tired maybe, best not to say more. Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right-right?
Pete and Georgie : Right-right.
Alex : Right-right.
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