what is Friendface? Friendface is a great new site for meeting people.
How does it work? Friendface works along the same principle as a cold or a terrible plague,
but it's not disgusting germs that Friendface spreads, it's friendship.
Each Friendface page is like a Petri dish filled with friendship germs.
when you stick your face in,
you may come away with millions of people attached to your face!
That's right, it's basically a diseased face of friendship!
Just sign up with Friendface by giving us all of your personal information,
and we'll provide a web page where you can meet new friends, catch up with old ones,
and maybe find that special someone.
Don't think about germs now - that analogy's over.
Now it's just love and companionship, and everything's fine.
we own everything you put on Friendface - it says so in the terms and agreements.
But don't worry, we won't use it to do anything bad, we promise.
Just think about love and companionship and everything's fine.
Friendface. Friendface. Friendface.
Can you two not use my email address any more, please? I've got a new one.
Jennywenny@Friendface? Oh, you've not signed up with Friendface, have you?
Yes, I have, actually. Why not? It's great.
I joined last night and I've already got 30 friends.
Baaaa! Yes, let's all join Friendface and become part of the herd! I don't think so.
Why not? They're terrific!
You can catch up on old friends, you can flirt with people...
I've got better things to do than to talk to friends and flirt with people, thank you.
You can play Scrabble online with it...
It's just another way of shoving advertising in your face. You'll regret it.
It might be a great way to meet women. All the girls on 7 are on it.
- I'm in! - What?
- I've joined. - That was quick!
It was what you said about Scrabble. I'm in a game now.
- I'm in! - What?
- I've joined! - What about the advertising?
Oh, advertising doesn't have any effect on me, Jen. I tune it out.
- So, the girls on 7, Kimberley, she's on this? - Uh-huh.
Oh, cool, look! They've got this great little game on their home page.
You have to throw a little can of cola into a giant mouth.
That's brilliant. God, I'm so thirsty.
I've got to have a word with you...
- Hang on. - You know, you can change your settings
so you don't get that annoying bleep with every message.
Incoming message!
Sorry, that's me.
I just have to tell you...
Oh, hang on.
Open a chat window and we can talk in it.
- How do I do that? - Press the speech bubble in the left corner.
Yes!
Oh, yeah, but don't forget, if...
- What are you like?! - If I might interject.
- That's hilarious! - Oh, Moss!
That was a classic Moss line.
I love this. I feel so social.
Jen, I'm going home now. It's nearly 7:30.
Just answering all my messages. They piled up while we were chatting.
So many people I don't care about getting back in touch.
Oh, there's another one. And I'm getting into online games - you know, real brain-teasers.
And I'm filling out a form on how much I love Cuke. Have you tried it?
Cuke? Yeah! I love Cuke. It's heaven in a can.
Anyway, I'm going to head, all right? Jen, don't get too obsessed by that.
No, I won't. Bye, Moss.
Oh, someone's added me as their friend.
I went to school with her. Wonder how she's doing?
Oh, not very well. That's good.
- Incoming message! - Jesus Christ!
I mean, Jesus Christ?
Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Oh, God!
Excuse me, some of us are trying to sleep round here.
This woman that I went out with once wants to meet up again.
I thought I'd got rid of her, but, oh no, she found me on Friendface.
Now I'll have to spend all afternoon making up lies to get rid of her again.
Oh, I think that is very mean. If it were me, I would like to know the truth.
- That you wear way too much makeup? - I do not!
That's a horrible thing to say! How dare you!
Not you, Jen. This girl.
- Oh, does she? - Big time.
- Did you sleep with her? - No.
It wasn't my fault! I got really drunk to try and make the evening pass quicker,
then by the end of it the makeup started to work for me.
Oh, please!
I'm not proud of it. It's not going on my CV. But every man has a story like this.
- This is not your first story like this. - Every man has a few stories like this.
Oh, no, it's all coming back to me now. She used to slap it on with a trowel.
God, why don't women have the confidence to know that less is more?
Then, when she started crying it all ran down her face.
It was like breaking up with the Joker.
Hang on - she was that upset, she was crying?
- What? No... - It sounds like you really hurt her feelings.
The least you can do is tell her the truth. Be a man, for God's sake.
Whoa, don't... Hey, I am a man. I will tell her. I will email her.
- No, you have to tell her face to face. - The hell I do.
This is a fragile young woman. What if she reacts badly?
That's why I'm doing it on email.
No, you have to tell her the truth and you have to do it face to face.
Do I?
My mum's on Friendface! My mum!
I have another channel of communication with my mum!
- Isn't that good? - No, it is not good.
She's put down her current mood as "sensual".
Why did you accept her as a friend?
What are you, an animal? I can't turn down a friend request from my mum.
- Message for me. - Oh...
I am eating my apple, Mum!
She packed me an apple this morning and it's the issue of the day.
I have to go. I'm meeting an old school friend for lunch.
Isn't it great the way Friendface brings people together?
Nanny's chasing the dog, the kids are screaming, absolute bedlam,
and here's me running out of the house to go to a meeting with the major shareholders.
- My life is an absolute nightmare. - Yes... Yes, mine too.
So, the other girls, what are they doing?
Elaine is head of marketing at Dennis Publishing.
- She's married to the editor of Esquire. - Is she?
Veronica's an A and R with Arista.
Her big embarrassing story is she passed on Arctic Monkeys.
Idiot.
Jilly is an architect, designing a new wing on the Tate.
Jilly? Jilly Spencer? She used to eat the wood on her desk.
- I always thought she was slow. - No, she's a genius.
- Wow. Everybody's doing great. - Yeah.
So, what about you, Jen? What are you up to?
- What am I up to? - Yeah.
- Oh, God, I hope that's not a rude question. - No, no, no, no.
It'd be awful if I just listed all our successful friends
and you were stuck in some terrible, dead-end job you hated.
God, yeah, that would be an absolute fucker. No, no, I'm head of IT at Reynholm Industries.
Ohh! I didn't know you were interested in computers.
"Interested" is not the word.
Sorry.
Hi, babe.
- You didn't have to call just to tell me that. - Aw.
No! I can't, I'm in public.
Stop it!
Yeah, of course I'm wearing them.
I'll have another one, please.
- Hi, Roy. - Hiya.
Roy, do you have any...
attractive, successful-looking friends?
No!
- What, none at all? - No.
Oh, God. Well, maybe you could help me, then.
Wow. That's flattering. Are you pissed?
A little bit.
Could you come to a school reunion with me and pretend you're my husband?
Do you really think you can quiz me for a better option and think I'll still say yes?
- I'll give you £50. - When is it?
Tomorrow night. I sort of bigged myself up to this girl.
She never had much time for me and I wanted to impress her, so I need a husband.
Yeah, I can't, because tomorrow night I'm spending the evening with the Joker.
I'm going to do what you said - tell her I'm just not interested in her.
Ooh, you're not actually going to do that face to face?
- You told me to! - Well, aren't you worried she'll go mad?
I'm very worried about that!
Oh, you... Oh, you are a f... Oh...!
- I'm going to cancel. - No, no, you can't cancel, not now.
- Who am I going to ask, then? - Who are you going to ask what?
Nothing.
The queen of honesty here needs a pretend husband for her school reunion.
When is it?
- So, you remember what to do? - Big you up to the max.
- By? - Listing your fictional achievements.
Uh-huh. And?
Saying how lucky I am to have met you and talking about our sweet sex life.
Maybe not the last one. We don't want to sound too smug.
Hey, if I'm pretending to be married, I'm pretending to be sexually active.
Don't worry, Jen, I plan on earning this £10.
Five now, five later. OK.
And I will have a Bacardi and Cuke. Thank you.
So, how are you?
I'm fine.
It was great seeing your profile pop up on Friendface -
gave me a great excuse to get back in touch.
Yeah... That's the brilliant thing about that bloody website.
- And how are you? - I'm great. I am great.
Yeah, I'm glad that we got together, Alison, because, erm...
It's only fair that I be completely honest with you. The truth is...
- Do you mind if I say something first? - Er, OK.
I've never been very good with words, so I wrote it down and it turned into a poem.
I'm sorry, are you going to read a poem now? Is that what's actually going to happen?
- Yeah, is that all right? - Wouldn't you prefer to text it to me?
It's a bit long for that.
Okey-dokey.
"Oh, gentle Irish eyes...
".. tousled brown hair...
smile as big as my favourite teddy bear. "
That's a bit corny - I might take it out or I might leave it in.
"Without you... I am just a husk. "
Er... erm... A husk?
- Yeah. - Uh-huh.
"Without you, I am just a husk, A dead thing.
My new best friend is a razor, a rope, A noose to swing... in.
Without you, the sweet release of death Would be all that could give me hope.
When I see your face on my computer...
I don't just see you...
I see our future. "
Oh, it's, er... Ohhhhh...
.. which is how my sexy wife became the first ginger woman on the cover of Newsweek.
That is wow!
Just when I think I've heard every story that puts Jen in a good light, you have another.
Yes, and they're beginning to sound a little bit unbelievable.
Oh, I can't help it. I love this well-travelled high-earner.
A woman in the living room, a chef in the kitchen, a prostitute in the bedroom.
Ow!
Jen, why don't you tell them all about your bionic arm?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I could do. Or... or we could talk about something else.
Yeah, we've heard enough stories about Jen.
We want to hear about the guy that tamed her heart.
Yeah. What do you do, Moss?
I'm a professional tennis player.
He doesn't like talking about it, though, so...
I do.
- Where do you play? - Where don't I play!
- Wimbledon? - I don't play there.
- Are you seeded, Moss? - Bit of a personal question, Terry.
But, yes, I'm highly seeded. We have two lovely children, Zenith and Quasar.
I... I love... I love this song.
Let's all stop talking and dance to this song.
Come on. Let's dance!
Her name is Jen. Er, she's a work colleague.
We've been seeing each other for some time.
I love her. I love that woman.
- Do you have a picture of her? - A picture of her? No.
What, not even on your phone?
No. It never occurred to me to take a picture of her because I see her all the time.
You just don't want me!
I do, I do... It's... Why wouldn't I want you? No, it's just... it's this girl.
- There is no girl. - There is! It's a real girl.
Look, could you just stop crying?
No. I'm never going to stop crying!
Do you want to meet her? We can meet her.
- What, really? - Yeah, let's go and meet Jen.
Will that make you a little less mad?
Tough, though, the whole marriage thing.
Terry, it's as tough as a cow's back. But you know what takes the edge off for me?
Regular, uninhibited, exploratory sex with a partner who's even wilder than I am.
Yup, that's Jen. She may look like a ginger angel,
but get her behind closed doors and she turns into Peter Stringfellow.
God, I envy you. These days Delina hardly ever lets me, you know, do it.
Ah, I'm on Jen at least four times a day.
As I've already said, I am fully seeded.
- You've got it really sorted out, haven't you? - Yeah. It's very surprising, isn't it?
No offence, Jen, but I've got to admit
I always thought you'd be the one whose life just went completely off the rails.
You always seemed to attract such chaos at school, but look at you now.
Delina, can we be best friends?
To tell you the truth, I think Delina might be sleeping with someone else.
No, she's just over there.
- I mean, this is just between ourselves. - Of course.
There are little clues here and there, things only a husband would pick up.
Like, someone wrote a message on her Friendface wall,
read: "Can't wait to shag your arse off again soon. "
I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into it.
Still, if I ever found out who that person was...
Agh! It's a pickle, Terry. Awh! Women! Agh!
If I had a pound for every bloody woman... Arh!
I hear ya.
- Hi there, Jen. - What are you doing here?
I saw on your profile that you were having a party.
That's the great thing about Friendface -
I get to see what all my employees are doing, all the time.
Come on, be game.
Ah, there she is. There's Jen!
Jen, I will help you out, but I need you to play along with me.
This is Alison.
She's that friend I told you about.
And this, this is Jen, the woman I love.
What's going on here?
- What are you doing here? - Enjoying an evening out with my woman.
What?
Jen, who is this joker?
No offence.
OK, what the hell is going on here?
Moss is my husband, Roy.
But you said you wanted me. She really did.
It's true, I did want you. At one point you were the one that I wanted.
But then you left. You left, Roy.
And so I turned to Moss. And Moss was there for me, Roy.
Moss was there for me in a way that you were not,
and now we're together, and that's all that matters.
I don't know.
- What? - I don't know, Jen.
I love you, God knows I do.
Your sweet abandon in bed, your humanitarian work,
and you've given me two wonderful children in Zenith and Quasar.
But it sounds like you still have feelings for this young man,
and I'm not sure I can handle that. I'm not sure at all!
I don't. I don't. I don't have feelings for this man.
- Yes, you do! - Oh...
Admit it, Jen! Admit that you have feelings for me, loudly, here, in front of Alison.
No, I don't. He means nothing to me, Delina.
Well, you moved on quickly, you bitch!
How dare you call my sexy wife a bitch!
- Do you want to take this outside? - With pleasure, sir.
I will just get some of my coats.
Excuse me, Alison.
- What now? - Hadn't really thought this far.
I'll just go and see how they are.
Oh, those bloody bastards!
Well, lovely to see Jen!
See her? I'm shagging her.
Grrrr...
Well, hello there, beautiful.