(In kitchen): beep-beep..beep-beep..beep-beep...beep-beep..beep-beep...
Bomber (alarmed): What the f***'s that? (looks around wildly) F*****g Hell! Is that my pacemaker?
Me (gripping worktop for support due to hysterical cackling): No. You've got your bum up against the timer on the cooker.
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