Lunch?

[SWv2]

Quiche. A family sized quiche.

Real men don't eat quiche, do they?

On Thursday they do the Aubergine special in Govindas. Bang on.

[Sir C]

On Thursday they do the Aubergine special in Govindas. Bang on.

Auber***ingine?

Have a look in the mirror, mate. Your ancestors didn't die building the M1 for you to ponce around with fúcking aubergines.

Poof. No offence.

[SWv2]

Auber***ingine?

Have a look in the mirror, mate. Your ancestors didn't die building the M1 for you to ponce around with fúcking aubergines.

Poof. No offence.

Fúck off and rob a bicycle!

[Sir C]

Fúck off and rob a bicycle!

There's rude.

[Burney]

Auber***ingine?

Have a look in the mirror, mate. Your ancestors didn't die building the M1 for you to ponce around with fúcking aubergines.

Poof. No offence.

In his lunch choices, sw often reveals that he is quite the mincing metrosexual-about-town. It's all falafel this and quinoa that.

I assume that in reality he's actually just eating a few boiled spuds his missus has wrapped up in a manky old bit of canvas with a paper twist of salt, but he doesn't want to shame himself in front of the bàstard English, so he pretends he's eating all these global delicacies.