Jim Bloggs: Blimey! I...I suppose...that was it.
Hilda Bloggs: Wasn't it light?
Jim Bloggs: Yea, terrific. You--you get terrific light with those bombs. Listen! A dog!
Hilda Bloggs: What does the fallout look like, dear?
Jim Bloggs: Fallout? The government director neglected to mention what it would look like. I expect it would look a bit like snow does, only gray. Very quiet. I expect they're all are having a good lie-in after the bombing.
Hilda Bloggs: Terrible smell of burning.
Jim Bloggs: Well, yes. Well there's bound to be. That's logical...
Hilda Bloggs: It's like...roast meat.
Jim Bloggs: Yes, it does. I expect everybody will be having their Sunday dinner a bit early this week, due to the unexpected circumstances...
Jim Bloggs: A cloud coming up. Looks like rain. We'll be alright for water now for a while, my dear.
Hilda Bloggs: Do you think rainwater is alright to drink?
Jim Bloggs: Well, yes, of course it is. There's nothing purer than rainwater, is there? Everybody knows that.
Hilda Bloggs: Oh, look! My hair's coming out.