(DAVE, TREVOR AND RORY ARE BUILDERS DRINKING AT A TABLE OUTSIDE A BAR)

DAVE: There was a time in my life, mate, when I wouldn’t be seen dead in a bar next to a bloke drinking mineral water. You’re not joining the elderflower tea and tofu brigade, are you?

TREVOR: It’s these antibiotics…

DAVE: Biggest con out. Fill a bottle from the tap, decorate it with a picture of some Alpine lake, call it Eau de Cuisine, and slap on a fiver for your troubles…. An Eau de Bollocks is what I’d call it.

RORY: Healthier than drinking this stuff, innit?

DAVE: All sales and marketing, sunshine. Ain’t difficult to hoodwink the general public. Most of ‘em are ripe for a roasting.

RORY: So you know a bit about sales, do you?

DAVE: Know a bit? Sand to the Arabs, ouzo to the Greeks, gateau to the Black Forest… I wrote the manual, son. What I don’t know about sales and marketing, you could write on the back of Trevor’s brain cell. 

TREVOR: Cheers, mate.

DAVE: Listen, you’re looking at a man who used to sell toupees door-to-door to the under-thirties. In French.

TREVOR: Really? What’s the French for toupee then?

DAVE: That mineral water’s starting to become an increasingly engaging trait of your personality, Trevor. There was this one time, right, we were on a particularly rough housing estate in Montreal, and this geezer come to the door… spittin’ image of Marc Bolan… couldn’t squeeze a bus ticket into his leopardskins… I kid you not, within fifteen minutes, we’d shaved off all his bubble curls and he was prancin’ about, happy as Larry, in a Bo Derek crew-cut… very popular look amongst the Canadians in the Seventies, now I come to think of it…

RORY: So, what’s the secret then?

DAVE: Well, I’ll be honest with you, I have to doff my cap to a very wise old gentleman I used to know. Used to work in that department store up the West End. What was it called? Swan something.

TREVOR: Vestas?

DAVE: Yes, mate. London’s world-famous Swan Vestas Department Store. With the matchstick revolving doors that used to ignite during a Friday evening rush-hour. Have you had your ‘ead examined recently, Trev? No, it’s on the tip of my tongue, Swan-

TREVOR: Cornetto?

DAVE: Listen, mate. You want to be helpful, go and buy another round. It’s the name of that composer bloke. (LOOKING AT TREVOR) Not Cornetto.

RORY: Didn’t Tchaikovsky have a thing about a swan?

DAVE: Eh? Anyway, this bloke told me a little pillar of wisdom that will remain with me for the rest of my days.

TREVOR: And what was that, then?

DAVE: He put his arm round my shoulder and said “Dave, my son, always remember, regardless of what anyone tells you, most people in this world are stupid.” And never a truer word was spoken. The general public are just a bunch o’ gullible halfwits begging to part with their hard-earned dosh if they think there’s something in it for them.

RORY: And you can’t say fairer than that, eh.

DAVE: Anyway, fuck this crappy conversation. Let’s talk about something more important. National lottery as per usual is it, lads? I’m puttin' in a score tonight, seein’ as it’s a rollover. You noticed how often 31 comes up on a Wednesday?