M: Elemis Elemis ELEMIS.
E: This should come with a health warning, because it’s actually a narcotic, not a beauty product. Do not operate heavy machinery or combine with alcohol on pain of death. It should be prescription only. And kept in the locked cupboards at the back of pharmacies that the junkies try and raid in gritty films. With the methadone and whatever.
E: Actually, what am I saying, it shouldn’t even be legal. It’s like roofies. You lose all muscle control, all free will. I bet heroin is exactly like this. Maybe less potent. Twenty minutes in a bath of this stuff, and you feel like all your bones have been removed. Probably one of your kidneys too.
M: A plague of Elemis upon you and your kin.
E: Have you been drinking it? Don’t drink it. What kind of crazed thrill-seeker are you?!
M: (dreamily) I once had a flatmate whose girlfriend worked in a spa. She was very fond of Elemis, so there was an unlimited supply of Super Soak and I could use it whenever I wanted.
E: I am surprised you ever managed to move out. Out of the Elemis CRACK DEN. I can imagine you all lying around, never moving, taking bath after bath after bath, the air a heavy fug of juniper and and clove and lavender. Filthy junkies.
M: It was the flatmate who spent a lot of time indoors. And liked to polish the kitchen cupboards.
E: He had a girlfriend? Impressive. There’s hope for us all.
M: He ALWAYS had girlfriends. He once broke his penis on a girlfriend and ran around the flat screaming.
E: Eh? Are you kidding me? Is that a thing? How the FUCK? HOW CAN YOU BREAK A PENIS?
M: There’s a ligament or something. There was blood and screaming. Apparently it’s very painful. I was in my room thinking WHAT THE FUCK.
E: Oh my god. I feel a bit sick now. Well, if you will live with Elemis smackheads in an Elemis squat, this kind of thing is going to happen.
M: Where IS my fucking Elemis?
E: You’ve spent your giro on Elemis again, haven’t you?
M: What’s a giro?
E: I sometimes forget you are actually French.
M: Whatever. ELEMISSSSS.