Smithereens Press Chapbooks 'Zero at the Bone' by David Wheatley | Page 41

NEMO
Mind your lip.
MCALLISTER
Not a woman in sight, the cook bent over...
NEMO
I tell you, man who tried that on with me, ever...
MCALLISTER
To the gently rocking waves...
NEMO
He’d know what’s up.
MCALLISTER
And what is your nation, might I ask?
NEMO
You repeat
yourself something rotten. What is it about,
the pair of you, cooped up here? You should go back
where you come from, boy, trot along home to the bog
and your dear colleen...
MCALLISTER
[Sharply.] My what?
NEMO
That’s not what you call
your Irish sluts?
MCALLISTER
You mind your fucking lip.
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