Bring out jer dead!
[A large man appears with a (seemingly) dead man over his shoulder]
Here's one.
Nine pence.
I'm not dead.
What?
Nothing. [hands the collector his money] Here's your nine pence.
I'm not dead!
'Ere, he says he's not dead.
Yes he is.
I'm not.
He isn't.
Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
I'm getting better.
No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
Well, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.
I don't want to go on the cart.
Large Man': Oh, don't be such a baby.
I can't take him.
I feel fine.
Oh, do me a favor.
I can't.
Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.
I promised I'd be at the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.
Well, when's your next round?
Thursday.
I think I'll go for a walk.
You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?
I feel happy. I feel happy.
[The collector paces for an idea, then whacks the body with his club, solving the problem]
Ah, thank you very much.
Not at all. See you on Thursday.
Right.
