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Effy: Woah. Déjà vu.
Cook: Yeah, ain’t that French for “What the fuck is going on?”
Effy: No. I’ve been here before. Something bad happened here.
Cook: What?
Effy: I was screaming. Someone got hurt.
Cook: Okay. This is getting way too Stephen King for me. You win, all right? I call chicken.
Effy: Someone got hurt. What are you talking about?
Cook: What am I talking about? Come on, Eff. I know you, you know me. We’ve dated, we have fucked in every sense of the word. We are Cook and Effy.
Effy: No, that’s not true, we’ve never met.
Cook: So how do I know you’ve got a mark shaped like a wine glass on your ass? Or that your favourite film’s E.T.?
Effy: Stop it.
Cook: That’s because we know each other. The fucking world knows us! So cut the fucking shit.
Effy: NO! [she screams as a bus goes by] My brother. He got hit. He got run over here. No, no that never happened, that never happened! You’ve never happened!
Cook: Yes, it did. It did.
Effy: What’s happening to me? It happened, but it never happened! It happened, but it never happened! It happened, but it never happened! [Cook hits Effy]
Effy: Hit me again.
Cook: No.
Effy: What’s wrong with me? Hit me again! I’m not scared! I’m not scared of anything. Hit me!
Cook: Effy, please stop.