- Rab: [Claire is is joined by Rab] What's up? You've got a face on you like a slapped arse.
- Claire: No wonder. I can't get a boyfriend and she goes through them like her da goes through Jaffa Cakes.
- Rab: [Rab follows her gaze. Tracy's boyfriend has her pinned against a wall, kissing her] Keep it in your trousers, wee man. She's only fifteen.