Him & The Wife

The Two Ronnies sketch that never was. Probably cus it was too Derek & Clive.

Here’s the set-up

The Wife and HIM are in Relate Office.

Its already about 20 minutes into the session. Things are warming up nice between the contestants.

~ ~ ~

HIM: The sex life woz non eggziztn thats how it startid
The Wife: Wot due mean non eggziztn? I allis wannid it but yew diden wanna no.
HIM: Allis sum excuse there woz… “I’m too tired…I’m too this….”
The Wife: Cus yew neva made no effort that’s why. Neva even ad a bloody wash. The only time I new y’ wannid it woz wen y’ brushed y’ teef
HIM: That’s a bloody lie. I woz brushin me teef evari day back then
The Wife: Yeah – an look wot append since. Stumps is all you got nah, ardli any left in yor bleedin ead. Not attractiff
HIM: An wot about yew yew slobby gett? Yore a lardi arse yew, sat on that sofa all day long. Ardli move yor fat arse yew.
The Wife: Call me fat?! Yoo wanna look at yerself in the barfroom mirra mate.
HIM: At least I can see meself in the barfroom mirra. Yew can’t even get in the barfroom swede hard. Nor the barf.
The Wife (looking at Counsellor): I’m gonna giv Him a rite slap ina minute if he doan shutit, Mouth.

HIM lets out big belly larf.

Counsellor intervenes, conciliating. Waffles a bit for a bit.

A brief pause in proceedings.

The Wife, following Counsellors example, tries being soft.

The Wife: Why yew bein like this wiv me eh? Wots bort this mood on?
HIM: (Sighs). I ain’t in a mood. I got depresshun thats all.
The Wife: Well, thats why wees ere dip dap.
HIM: Doan cum over all squeaky clean. Its not jus me wiv the problems, we both got no self esteam
The Wife: No, I no – but its yew who as it worse. Yew frow tons of bad depresshun on everyfin wen yew can’t get yore own way

The Wife (turning to Counsellor): Especial last year he waz. E waz a dictative person, a rite piggin – if yew doan mind the langwidge – “Cunt” he waz. Frowin is wait about like The Big Man. But I wornt avin it waz I. Oh no. Not puttin up wiv that I waznt. And I woan put up it wiv it no more eiva. I ad it up to ere I av wiv this sorry situ ashun. Fings av got to improve – or i’m offski.

The Wife (turning to Him): I wan yew to agree wiv me now – if fings between us doan go up in improvement sumwat, we gotta call it a day mate. I mean that serious.
HIM(stands up yelling): You ain’t gonna leave me! You ain’t got no balls to leave me! I’ll ring yor bloody neck I will if yoo do. I’ll fackin frottle yoo yoo stewpid cow!

Counsellor looking alarmed stands up to get between, pushing hands anxiously on HIMS chest.

HIM: Hey! Hoo yoo fink yore pushin pal?! Doan tuch me. Doan facking tuch me. Yoo unerstand me?! If yew put anuvver filffy finger on me I’ll smack yoo one
The Wife (stood up now, piping): That’s yor big fing, aggressiv. Why do yew av to put violence on everyfing eh? All yew can do is fists. I ATE YEW!

And she swings a clumsy punch aimed at Him. But misses HIM. Hits Counsellor smack in the gob instead.

Counsellor crumples to the floor knocked out.

The Wife: O watt av I done?! Watt av I done?! Strike a light! O bloody bleedin nora!

The Wife: (shaking vigorously K O ed Counsellor): Yew alrite sunshine? Yew alrite? Wake up yew bleedin ponce, I ardli tuched yoo! All it waz waz a slite tap, thats all it waz waznt it?

Asking this to HIM

HIM: Thats rite. She nevva ment to strike yew pal.

Said to “pal”, laid prostrate out on the floor

HIM: Fink weed betta scarpa quick
The Wife: Fink we betta ad

She grabs coat. Giggles.

HIM (grinning): Yore a rite one yoo are. Yoo doan no yor own strenff.
The Wife: There waz nuffin to im that Cownsella fella, fell ova like a bleedin fevva he did, a rite wimp – not like yoo darl.

She starts hooting with laughter then.

They scarper out of office like a pair of clumsy bears .

2 WEEKS LATER

Back in office. Same counsellor. In neck brace.

The Wife: Since larst time fings av gone more positiv.
HIM: Yeah, we getting perfeckt nah.
The Wife: I wannid to ring his bloodyneck I did. It all cums from the past and I bubble, I cant elp it
HIM: Tella troof, trooful like, I can talk betta to yew nah. I got more onist wiv meself. This cowncillin as really elped.
The Wife:I got to stop wiv yew there.
HIM (puzzled): ??!!
The Wife: Cus wheres Leesa in all this?
HIM: Watt do yew mean – Leesa? Watt she godda do wiv anyfing?
The Wife: Well why do yew pinch over peoples bums then?
HIM: Watt, that? That’s nuffin. That’s just avin a larf that is, that doan mean nuffin, yew no that. Yew no I wooden do nuffin wiv yor little sister.
The Wife (larfin): I no – cus she’s a fat cow.
HIM: Like you!
The Wife: like me!

They both break out in loud larfs

The Counsellor looks on, baffled.

The Wife (grabbing over to HIMS neck): Cum ere Mouth!

HIM: I’m smovvered by the love I am.

She smacks a great big kisser on HIM.

The Wife: I luv yew to bits I do babe
HIM: I no yew do sweed hard. An I luv yew to deff too I do.
The Wife: I’ll nevva leave yew nah, nevva
HIM: Me neivva. Wees stuck wiv one annuvver forevva.
The Wife: Yep, its all perfeckt nah

They sit there mauling  and slobbering at one another’s fat faces.

Meanwhile, the Counsellor looks bemusedly on

Wincing inside his neck brace.

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