Listen to the dramatic reading by Lee Frank:
Wait! Stop cycling. I'm sorry, Lydia. I was just about to cycle up to London's iconic Westminster Bridge and propose to you. But I can't. Not like this.
Lydia, I haven't been honest with you. Yes: I've been lying to you. But like in that movie—you know, that movie—I have to come clean.
I didn't go to Uni at Oxford on a football scholarship. I went to Uni at Cambridge on a rugby scholarship.
I know, Lydia! I know that one is the oldest and one of the most respected universities in the world, and the other is the second oldest (though equally respected) university in the world. I know I don't play with my feet, I play with my hands. I know. And I know this is a letdown. I don't know why I lied. I just wanted to impress you. I mean, you're a freelance Chinese translator. A profession that's becoming more and more viable every year.
And I know you won't believe this, Lydia. But the lies don't stop there. I just can't marry you into the Dukedom of Wellington before telling you: my parents are not the Duke and Duchess of Wellington. They're the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire! Their seat of power isn't in Aspley House, it's at Lismore Castle in the heart of Lismore County!
And the reason I made you such a shite breakfast yestermorning is because I'm not accustomed to a breakfast of bangers and eggs, I'm accustomed to a breakfast of black pudding, oatcakes, bubbles, and squeaks, Lydia! That's what I know Lydia, that's the kind of breakfast I know how to make!
And that's the kind of breakfast I should have made, Lydia. But: I don't know. You're a freelance Chinese translator. A language with hundreds of millions more native speakers than Spanish, English, Hindi, Arabic, or Portuguese, Lydia.
So you can walk away from this right now, and go back to your life. I wouldn't blame you, now that you know the truth.
But, unfortunately, you don't, Lydia. You don't know the whole truth. If you knew the whole truth you'd know I didn't attend the premiere of Rowan Atkinson's Johnny English (2003), I attended the premiere of Rowan Atkinson's Johnny English Reborn (2011).
But I know that I want to be with you. I think you might still want to be with me. I wouldn't be telling you this unless deep down I knew you were the kind of person who wouldn't care that I drink Hallet's Hard Cider and not Castledore Hard Cider. That I read the Telegraph every morning and not the Guardian. That I love the Kinks and not the Zombies. That I drink my tea with one sugar, not two. That I don't have a stiff upper lip, I have a rigid philtrum right under my nose. That I didn't lose my virginity on top of the Tower of London, I lost it in the basement of Big Ben. That my best friend isn't a delightful talking bear who rides in the sidecar of my motorcycle, he's a rascal country rabbit who rides in the sidecar of my motorcycle, Lydia.
I mean Jesus, Lydia. I don't even speak like this.
I speak like this. You hear that? You hear the slight Essex switch on the “e”? I'll do it again. And I don't even speak like this…. I speak like this. I know. I sound like a bloody pig farmer.
But I'm telling you this because I love you, Lydia. I love you. Allow me to say it in Mandarin: Ngo ngoi nei…. But that's not even Mandarin, that's Cantonese, Lydia! I know you know that, you're a freelance Chinese translator! Why did I even try?! Do you think you can move past this? Did I lose you at the rascal rabbit?!
Okay. I understand. I'll just keep cycling, then. I should have known this wouldn't work when you didn't support Brexit.