Nice picture, Cilla!
RM : Are you going to re-touch the photo?
CB : I hardly want to touch it at all!
RM : Try to remove some of the creases and jowls. My face looks like a bulldog's butt.
CB : OK, bowel breath. May I ask, and I don't want to seem indelicate: did you and Jerry bump uglies before you got married?
RM : She calls me DROOPERT. Do I need to give you a front page headline? Look, it's ok, I've got a lot of bastards and so does Jerry. Between us, we've spawned TEN monsters. We don't need more kids anyway. If she isn't completely menopausal, the only thing up her twat might be some Cadbury eggs that she shoplifted out of Tesco. If I'm being honest —
CB : When has that ever happened?
RM : IF I'm being honest, I just like to have the company of a beautiful woman.
CB : So why did you choose Jerry Hall? She looks like a buck-toothed giraffe. Do you and Prince Charles go to the same optometrist?? She's gawky, long-necked, and has a nose that could open a tin of beans!
RM : Tin of beans? What's that?
BJ : Droopy! This is a can of beans! It's what commoners eat because the Royals take all the tax money, and the immigrants are given the rest. Ha!
RM : Boris, what are you doing here? Trying to act like you care about common people? You'll never live like common people. You'll never do what common people do....I bet you don't even know the price of a can of beans.
BJ : £1.49. I have no idea. 49p. Oh I don't care! Cilla, would you take MY picture? Wait, I have to muss my hair up first.
CB: Ewww, you should shave down there. Zip up, please. Now go away. I have to finish this interview and get to my copy of the Grimsby Tell-a-Laugh.
BJ : What's so important in there that you can't wait?
CB : My fish and chips is wrapped in it. Now, Rupert, speaking of fish, have you at least tried to go down on Jerry Hall's twat?
RM : It was a disaster. I got my mouth right up against it, and my dentures popped out. They flew right into Jerry's twat. She swiveled her hips and did a bump and grind, and the teeth turned around facing the front. Her twat was grimacing at me, a full toothy grimace!
CB : That must've been frightening.
RM : Best Mick Jagger imitation I've ever seen!
CB : Were you aroused?
RM : De-loused?
CB : AROUSED.
RM : Oh, oh my goodness, no. I can't get no satisfaction. At least I can say I know what Mick Jagger's breath smells like.
CB : Can you tell me about Jerry's dress? What's it made of?
RM : Mummy wrappings.
CB : I like the flowers. Where did they come from?
RM : Somebody's grave. Maybe mine. It's all ready, you know. I could die at any time. I hope I'll have as big a funeral as Princess Diana did. We have a lot in common. We're both filthy rich, loved by masses of morons, and we've both gone down on Dodi Fayed. I'll give Diana credit, when she did it, her hair didn't fall out afterward.
CB : Are you surprised at how fondly all your rival newspapers, like the Daily Fail, are treating your romance with Jerry Hall? You'd think there would be some sniggering.
DM : No, no, she's 100% white.
CB : Droopert, you've taken over TV stations, you've been a real media Hitler, and you've even associated with Piers Morgan. Is there anything you won't do?
DM : Yes, I won't buy the Grimsby Tell-a-Laugh. I don't want to read about some fucking Elvis impersonator gigging in Grimsby Town Hall. Now, a Mick Jagger impersonator fucking in Jerry Hall...that might be amusing. But...(sigh) not arousing.
CB : Thanks for your time, Mr. Murdoch, you c***.
DM : Huh? C***?
CB : Ooops! I thought I was writing for the Tell-a-Laugh! But you can figure it out for yourself, you piece of s***.
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