Not needing subtitles is a privilege.

Hear you?

Jesus. Yes?

That's chocolate bar. It's gave my Justin diarrhea.

How do you know it was the chocolate?

Because that's what he had yesterday. He ate it outside the shop and by the time I'd got home, he'd shat all up his back.

Nice! Did you have diarrhea?

No, I didn't have the chocolate.

Do any of wee Justin's brothers or sisters have diarrhea? No, they didn't have either. Does anybody else in your immediate family have diarrhea? No. So, we Justin was the only one who ate the chocolate?

Aye.

Right. I think we might have arrived at the problem here. You see, when you bought your chocolate bar yesterday, it wasn't this size. No, no, no, no, no, no. It was actually this size. You gave a 2 year old a slab of chocolate the size of a headstone.

Jeff Capes would have shite up his back if he ate that amount of chocolate. Take a hike, chancer. And take shitey ass with you. And take shitey ass with you.

Ass who?