*** In the back of a black London taxi... Ken slouches in the back seat casually zoning out & starring out of the window. He's wearing his usual scruffy clothes, but this time is sporting a rather large pair of black sun glasses. Slightly rocking from side to side, clearly on a journey ***

Taxi Driver - Which terminal pal?

*** Ken doesn't respond, he seems to be on another planet mentally ***

Taxi Driver - Pal!

*** Ken turns and looks at the rear view mirror with a blank glare before flipping him the bird ***

Taxi Driver - Ha, 2 then? Thought you were dead bruv. Heavy night was it?

Ken Kennedy - You could say that.

*** Ken turns and looks out of the window hoping for the taxi drivers excessive noise will come to an end ***

Taxi Driver - Airport then, going anywhere nice mate?

*** Ken sighs before turning to look at the rear view mirror again, directly at the driver ***

Ken Kennedy - Na, not really PAL! I'm going to work.

*** Sensing a slight shift in tone, the driver quiets down. After about 20 seconds of awkward silence... ***

Taxi Driver - Mate. Just to...

*** Ken thrashes forward in his seat, inches from the Perspex divide between himself & the driver before hastily removing his dark shades. In doing so he reveals a corking black eye. His right eye is brutally swollen & blood shot ***

Ken Kennedy - Do you know how I got this PAL? I got it from asking two many questions, but you should see the other two guys. So how's about you shut up. Quit drilling me & get me to my plane so I can get a drink & get the f**k out of this country. Money, booze, the sun & bitches await me. I'm leaving behind nothing, but moaners, liars and . So stop being one of the latter.

*** Ken slumps back in his seat and places his glasses back on his face. He then turns to gaze out of his window ***

Ken Kennedy - You got anything to drink...?