WENSLYDALE: WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU, SIR?
CUSTOMER: WELL, I WAS, UH, SITTING IN THE PUBLIC LIBRARY ON THURMON STREET JUST NOW, SKIMMING THROUGH "ROGUE HERRYS" BY HUGH WALPOLE, AND I SUDDENLY CAME OVER ALL PECKISH.
WENSLYDALE: PECKISH, SIR?
CUSTOMER: ESURIANT.
WENSLYDALE: EH?
CUSTOMER: 'EE, AH WOR 'UNGRY-LOIKE!
WENSLYDALE: AH, HUNGRY!
CUSTOMER: IN A NUTSHELL. AND I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, "A LITTLE FERMENTED CURD WILL DO THE TRICK," SO, I CURTAILED MY WALPOLING ACTIVITES, SALLIED FORTH, AND INFILTRATED YOUR PLACE OF PURVEYANCE TO NEGOTIATE THE VENDING OF SOME EMO AUDIOPHILIA!
WENSLYDALE: COME AGAIN?
CUSTOMER: I WANT TO BUY SOME PORTISHEAD.
WENSLYDALE: OH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE BAZOUKI PLAYER!