The friendly sort

INT. FUNCTION ROOM.

A FORMAL PARTY IS IN FULL SWING, POSSIBLY A WEDDING.

TREVOR IS STANDING ALONE BY A TABLE FULL OF FINGER-FOODS.

HE IS DRESSED IN A TUXEDO, HOLDING A GLASS OF CHAMPAIGNE AND LOOKING ADORINGLY AT SOMEBODY OFF-CAMERA.

GONAD ENTERS CARRYING A PINT OF BITTER AND STANDS BESIDE TREVOR.

GONAD NUDGES TREVOR AND INDICATES THE PERSON HE'S LOOKING AT.

GONAD:
Is that your ugly wife?

TREVOR:
I beg your pardon?

GONAD:
The shaved monkey with it's face in the trifle - is that the missus?

TREVOR:
Would you mind not talking about my wife like that?

GONAD:
So it is yours then?

TREVOR:
Yes. Yes SHE is, and she also happens to be a very... well, a moderately attractive woman thank you very much.

GONAD RESTS A REASSURING HAND ON TREVORS ARM.

GONAD:
Don't thank me, thank the doctor that cut off it's testicles.

TREVOR:
What?!

GONAD:
Oh come on! It's got to have been a bloke at one point in it's life. It stands to reason.

TREVOR:
Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not going to stand here and listen to you insult my wife!

GONAD:
I don't blame you. (PAUSE) You should be over there doing it for yourself.

TREVOR:
What?!

GONAD:
Here...

GONAD PULLS A HAMMER FROM HIS BACK POCKET AND HANDS IT TO TREVOR.

GONAD:
Go and tell it to fix it's face.

GONAD WALKS AWAY LEAVING TREVOR LOOKING LIKE THE VICTIM OF A HIT AND RUN CONFUSION.

FADE OUT.