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Roy and ¸é±ð²Ôé±ð
Bubble-permed monstrosity ¸é±ð²Ôé±ð accosts strangers and friends alike with endless chatter, while her poor henpecked husband, Roy, looks uncomfortable and only speaks when called upon by ¸é±ð²Ôé±ð.
 Roy's job is to agree with ¸é±ð²Ôé±ð when prompted:
'Roy tried his hand at karaoke. I said, 'You've got a good voice, but no co-ordination.' What did I say, Roy?' 'You've got a good voice, but no co-ordination.'
Occasionally Roy speaks out of turn, and then he gets a slap. ¸é±ð²Ôé±ð: Ooh, and the queues in Marks's. How long was I stood there?
Roy: Forty minutes?
¸é±ð²Ôé±ð: You know it was forty five minutes, Roy. What are you trying to show me
up for in front of your mother?
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