Biscuits

"I need to borrow fifty quid," Roger said. He was on the phone sounding anxious.
"What for?" I asked.
"Bloody lawyers," he said, "bastards."
"But its all I've got," I said.
"Great!" he said, "I thought you were still skint. I'll come round now."
Twenty minutes later he was in my flat, counting the money.
"And could you make us a cup of tea," he said, "cheers."
"But how am I going to pay my rent?" I asked.
"Dash of milk, two sugars. Cheers. Oh, and have you got any biscuits?"
As I made the tea, I could hear him talking on his mobile phone. "Yeah I know it's five quid short, but I got most of it, that's the main thing," he was saying, then: "alright, alright, I'll see what I can do."
When I brought him the tea, he said: "I don't suppose I could borrow that other telly for awhile, could I?"

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