Violence and double-talk

"Psssst... are you awake?"
"No."

"You are, you're awake."
"No I'm not. Now bugger off."

"I'm bored!"

"Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored..."

"Bored, bored, b--"
"Of for the love of God. Will you bugger off! I need to get some sleep!"
"You said you were asleep. You were telling fibs."
"It's one o'clock in the bloody morning!"
"I know. I'm bored."
"I swear to God, if you don't sod off and leave me alone I'll--"
"Let's play a game or something."
"No. SLEEP!"

"I'm still bored."
"For GOD'S SAKE it's... It's nearly half one now. Half an hour you've been bugging me!"
"But I'm bored!"
"Then do something."
"What?"

"What should I do?"

"I could sing a song?"
"NO! No singing. It drives me mental. Do something productive instead. Count sheep or something."
"La, la doo-be-doo, la-la-la-la-la doo, doo doo-be-doo--"
"SHUT UP!"

"That's no way to treat your own brain."
"If you don't shut up, right now, I'm going to go through to the lounge, find that bottle of whisky Fiona's dad gave us for Christmas and drink the lot of it!"
"You wouldn't! It's 56% proof! Think of the hangover!"
"It'll shut you up."
"Last time you tried it, your tongue went numb."
"I'm serious."
"OK, OK... sheesh."

"I'm still bored."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAArgh!"
"Maybe we could think about the book instead? I've had this idea about that bit we're supposed to write tomorrow. The one we planned out?"
"That's it: I'm going to the drinks cupboard."
"I think we can do it differently and it'll work much better."
"I'm getting up. See, I'm putting on my pyjamas. You're going on a one-way trip to blooteredsville!"
"It'll make the book better... well, less crap anyway."
"I want to go to sleep! It's the middle of the night."
"Look, you're up now. Might as well go through to the computer and try writing for a bit. What have you got to lose?"

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"La, la doo-be-doo, la-la-la-la-la doo, doo doo-be-doo--"
"OK, OK! I'll go do some writing. Bloody brain."