At a boys' grammar school in Sheffield, eight boys are being coached for the Oxbridge entrance exams. It is the mid-eighties, and the main concern of the unruly bunch of bright teenagers is getting out, starting university - and starting life.
HECTOR : You don't always understand it ? Timms, I NEVER understand it. But learn it now, know it now and you'll understand it whenever.
TIMMS : I don't see how we can understand it. Most of the stuff poetry's about hasn't happened to us yet.
HECTOR : But it will, Timms. It will. And then you will have the antidote ready ! Grief. Happiness. Even when you're dying. We're making your deathbeds here, boys.
DAKIN : Further to the drink, what I was really wondering was whether there were any circumstances in which there was any chance of your sucking me off.
(Pause)
Or something similar.
(Pause)
Actually that would please Hector.
IRWIN : What ?
DAKIN : "Your sucking me off". It's a gerund. He likes gerunds. And your being scared shitless, that's another gerund.
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