"Babe, what ARE you doing!?"

"Nothing, Bertha, just scribbling."

"You're writing a ****** poem!
I knew it! "

"No, honestly, I'm not."

"Get your *** in this bed, you sod.
We have a table booked for breakfast in an hour, and I need a good drilling."

"Yes, of course my love."

"If I catch you doing that again, I'm
gonna rip your todger off!"

"Oh, ******, you say all the right things."