RC,
Because you're mummy forced you:
"Our Garry, where are you going"?
"To the footy, ma".
"Get that bloody scarf on."
"But ma, it's 85 degrees."
"Get it on, or I'll fckin' drop yer."
"It's not fair. My mates'll laugh at me"
"Anyone who laughs at my lad, I'll fckin' drop them as well. Go and get me 20 Woodbines and a six-pack of Carly Specials before you go, pet."
“Ma, is “six-pack” a compound noun?”.
“Course it is, you thick twaat – adjective plus verb equals compound noun. I told your father we should have sent you Eton instead of ‘arrow.”
“Yer dead clever, you are ma.”
Grant.