Harry! Harry! Harry! Open the door.
Uncle Vernon, I need you to sign this form.
What is it?
Nothing. School stuff.
Later, perhaps, if you behave.
I will if she does.
Oh, you're still here, are you?
Yes.
Don't say yes in that ungrateful way. [She hands Ripper's leash over to Petunia] Damn good of my brother to keep you. [She goes to Vernon to say something to him] He'd have been straight to an orphanage if he'd been dumped on my doorstep, Vernon.
[Laughter is heard nearby. Hearing that, Aunt Marge looks delighted. She walks up to the couch, where the laughter has come from Harry's fat cousin Dudley, who is watching TV and eating snacks]
Is that my Dudders? Is that my little neffy-pooh? [She kisses Dudley.] Give us a kiss. Come on. Up, up.
Take Marge's suitcase upstairs.
Okay.
[Later, the four Dursleys are seated at the dining table, where they've just finished eating their food. Aunt Marge places her dirty plate on the floor for Ripper.]
Finish that off for Mummy. There's a good boy, Rippy-pooh.
[offering her brandy]
Can I tempt you, Marge?
Just a small one. [turns to Petunia] Excellent nosh, Petunia.
[Aunt Marge snaps at Harry, who is clearing away the dirty dishes. She directs him to take away the plate that she gave to Ripper, and he does so.] [as Vernon pours her brandy]
A bit more. [aside to Petunia] Usually just a fry-up for me what with twelve dogs. [back to Vernon] A bit more. That's a boy! [she takes the brandy]
[Uncle Vernon sits down at the table while Harry stands in the kitchen cleaning the dishes.] [feeding some of her brandy to Ripper]
You want to try a little drop of brandy? A little drop of brandy-brandy windy-wandy for Rippy-pippy-pooh? [looks up at Harry] What are you smirking at? [Harry shrugs]
Where did you send the boy, Vernon?
St. Brutus'. It's a fine institution for helpless cases.
[to Harry]
Do they use a cane in St. Brutus', boy?
[sarcastically as Uncle Vernon gives him a look]
Oh, yeah. Yeah, I've been beaten loads of times. [turns away]
Excellent. I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not beating people who deserve it. You mustn't blame yourself about how this one turned out, Vernon, it's all to do with blood. Bad blood will out. [to Petunia] What is it the boy's father did, Petunia?
Nothing. He, uh, didn't work. He was unemployed.
And a drunk too, no doubt?
[puzzled]
What did you say?
[Aunt Marge's brandy glass breaks, startling Petunia]
Don't worry, don't fuss, Petunia. I have a very firm grip.
[to Harry]
I think it's time you went to bed.
Quiet, Vernon. [to Harry] You, clean it up. [as Harry comes over with a towel to clean up the glass pieces] Actually, it's nothing to do with the father, it's all to do with the mother. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup.
Mmm. Right. Let me tell you... [begins inflating like a balloon] Vernon! Vernon! Vernon, do something!
