Tonight is singles night at our favourite pub, and because we've nothing better to do with our time, and Tony is in the mood for an evening of wild sex, we're going to see what south-east London can offer two guys like us in the way of potential partners.
I have to admire my fat friend's enthusiasm, because the womenfolk in this part of the world are not the sort to get one's hormones active, or the type that you would want to be seen with in a public place, during daylight hours.
Still, as Tony says, fussiness has never been one of his qualities, and after ten pints of lager, he doesn't really care who he takes home - just as long as they let him have his wicked way, and stay around long enough to prepare his breakfast, and do a bit of housework.
You probably think that such an attitude is outdated, but even if Tony likes to treat his women like slaves, for some unknown reason, he's never had any problems in capturing members of the opposite sex in his web of charm.
Anyway, as I write, Tony is dousing himself in cheap aftershave, and getting ready to show the world that the art of seduction is still alive and kicking, and that fatness and vulgarity shouldn't prevent a hot-blooded male from charming the birds from the trees.