[As he and Wayne get out of the van] I've telled him to get these brakes sorted! [They look inside the pound. Wayne's car is just behind the fence]
There. There, look. [The car is still dirty.] 800 quid and they ain't even bloody cleaned it.
[Scoffs] They've probably been out joy-ridin' in it, man. Did yer check the clock before you give 'em it?
Y'know, I didn't think of that!
I'll come in wi' yer, I'll tell 'em I'm yer legal adviser. If yer get any grief, I'll nut 'im.
Right, it shouldn't take long, Mr. Norris. You have the full amount with you, I presume?
Of course. [Throws the money down on the desk.] There it is. It's in pounds though, not Deutschmarks. Is that all right, sunbeam(?)
No need for any sarcasm, thank you, sir. [He starts to count the money]
There's nae need to count it, man. It's all there.
I have to check it, sir... just in case you've given me too much.
Ere, listen, seeing as I've paid you up in full, I don't reckon you can tell me who shopped me, can you?
Certainly not, that's privileged information.
I thought it might be. [Oz looks around the office and sees a photo of a woman on the cabinet behind Wayne. His eyes widen - it's the mature woman from the Barley Mow! He clears his throat to attract Wayne's attention then nods towards the photo. Wayne turns and glances at the photo, then turns back to the customs inspector] Just looking at the photograph. Lovely lady. Who is it?
That happens to be my wife, sir. [Oz turns away]
Very attractive, wouldn't you say so, Oz?
[Turns back] What? Oh, yes, uh-huh... Not my cup o' tea, like, but... tidy bit o' tackle.
[Gets up] Right. I'll get you a receipt, Mr. Norris. Won't take a minute. [He leaves the office, glancing at a sheepish Oz as he does.]
[As soon as the customs officer is out of earshot] Well, I declare, as they say in the trade! [Laughs as they gather by the photo]
Can yer believe it? It's ironic, really isn'it, when yer think aboot it. If he hadn't've nabbed your car, I wouldn't've knobbed his wife!
Poetic justice, that's what I call it. 'Ere, talking of justice, you keep dog eye, because I want to check out who shopped me. [Oz goes on lookout while Wayne opens a foolscap wallet. He goes through the documents.]
Owt there?
Hold on... [He finds the relevant document] Hold it, here we go... "Dear Sir, acting on information received from a Mr. Arthur Pringle of the Barley Mow Inn..."
[Scoffs] Pringle... Might've knaan it'd be that old bastard!
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