Just a piece of dialogue, from my not-yet-published book 'Flag McAndrew and the Arabs'

Back to earth on Forth Venturer, Flag was saved from falling by the proximity of the bulkhead, as Big John clapped him on the back and said
"You didn't hear a bloody word of what I just said, did you? Where were you off to this time, Dreamer?"
"Sorry John, just having visions of heroism - in your giant shadow of course. You realize you dam’ near knocked me through the bulkhead with your bloody great pat on the back?"
"Sorry, can't help it. The Lord forgot to tell me I'm so much bigger and stronger than all you little people. Maybe he sent me to the wrong planet by mistake?"
"Yeah, right, but couldn't you just tell yourself, as a sort of emissary of the Lord to the Court of Saint John?"
"I'll ignore that." "What?"
"I said I'll ignore that." "Ignore what?"
"What you just said." "What did I just say?"
"SHUDDUP and LISTEN!" "Sorry Highness."
"Belt up before I strangle you! Now, what the hell was I saying?"
"Dunno your Highness, I was in thrall to more ethereal voices at the time, if you recall."
Flag surrendered as Big John's outsize hands zeroed in on his neck.
"Okay, okay, I'm listening SIR!"
"Right, now I remember. Swat up on your refuelling at sea drill; the Old Man's bound to have a few more drills between here and Port Sudan - that's where we're heading with this lot. And make sure your Morse is up to snuff. Remember Beethoven's Fifth for the big Vee - di-di-di-daah."
"Right you are, Sir Malcolm, where'd you lose your baton?"
"Up your backside in a minute, if you don't get round the tanks again very soon."
"Aye aye sir," then sotto voce "big and rude, rude, rudee."
Flag collected his tape, plumb-bob, gas-proof torch, notebook and pencil, and headed out on deck once more, in the blazing sun. A quick look round the horizon was enough to ascertain that the Yank ships had already scarpered.