This sketch feels really old fashioned to me. I don't know why it came out that way. It's also quite visual so you'll have to use your imaginations.
MUM: I do worry about our Gillian, dad. She seems to have such trouble meeting a nice man.
DAD: I know what you mean, mother. That last bloke she brought home was completely unsuitable. What did he say he did for a living?
MUM: Suicide bomber.
DAD: That's right. I wonder what happened to him?
MUM: A Ford Mondeo packed with C4, according to Gillian. She wouldn't have minded but he'd only asked to borrow her car for the weekend.
DAD: And who was that other bloke she dated? I could tell from the start that it wasn't going anywhere?
MUM: Do you mean Michael? What was wrong with him? He was funny, sensitive, had a good job... great with children...
DAD: He was her BROTHER.
MUM: Oh yes. Shame about that.
(The doorbell rings)
MUM: Ooh, that'll be Gillian now with her new man. Try and be nice.
DAD: All right, all right.
(Dad answers the door. Jillian and Tony come in)
GILLIAN: Mum, dad - I'd like you to meet Tony - my new boyfriend!
(Tony is a nice, normal looking chap)
TONY: Hello.
DAD: Nice to meet you, lad.
MUM: Hello. Make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink?
TONY: Oh sure. I'd love a lager if you have such a thing. Ha ha.
MUM: Righty-o. Back in a sec.
DAD: So Tony - tell me about yourself, and your family? What do they do?
GILLIAN: Oh, Tony doesn't like to talk abou-
TONY: No, no, Gill. That's ok. It's kind of a sad story really. My mother rejected me 2 days after I was born so I was placed in a litter of labrador puppies.
(Long pause)
TONY: So - in answer to your question - most of my brothers and sisters are now pursuing careers as family pets. Although Jeffrey has made quite a name for himself in toilet roll commercials.
DAD: (Shocked) So - you were...
TONY: Raised by dogs. Yes.
(Mum reappears with the lager and a bowl of nibbles)
DAD: Oh - er - Tony was just telling us about his family...
(Tony puts the nibbles on the floor and starts eating them)
DAD: Apparently he was... he was...
(Tony drinks his lager by sticking his entire face over the glass and lapping it up. There are crisps and lager everywhere).
DAD: ...raised by a familiy of labradors.
MUM: Oh... how - unusual... Would you like another drink Tony? You appear to have finished that one.
TONY: That would be great, thanks!
(Tony gets up, putting both his hands on mum's shoulders. He begins to lick her face).
TONY: Thanks! You're so hospitable! (Lick, lick)
GILLIAN: Tony! Tony! Down! Sorry, he gets this way when he's excited. Tony!!
(Tony gets down)
MUM: Right. I'll just go and get that drink, shall I?
(Mum leaves again)
GILLIAN: Come on Tony. Sit down.
(Tony leaps onto the couch and turns around three times before settling down again)
DAD: (Still in shock) So. Tony. Er... What do you do for a living?
GILLIAN: (Leaping in) Tony works with the differently-abled, dad. He's very committed to his work.
TONY: I'm a guide dog.
DAD: Well that must be very satisfying.
(Dad reaches for a crisp. Tony begins to growl. Dad backs off.)
TONY: Oh, I'm sorry. Force of habit. May I use your - ha ha - "facilities"?
DAD: Sure. Top of the stairs. First on the left.
(Tony leaves)
GILLIAN: So - what do you think?
DAD: Well. He's very "unusual" isn't he?
GILLIAN: Oh dad. You never approve of anyone. No-one's good enough for your little girl (she laughs).
(There is a scream - mum bursts into the room, followed by Tony).
MUM: Gillian. Tony has done something very unpleasant on the bathroom floor.
GILLIAN: Oh, that's all right, I came prepared. (Gillian produces a pooper scooper and a plastic bag).
MUM: No Gillian. Now I'm sorry but this has gone far enough. You and your boyfriend will have to leave.
GILLIAN: Oh mum! I knew you'd be like this! Just because Tony's a bit different!
(Tony has started humping mum's leg)
GILLIAN: Tony! No! Down! Stop that.
DAD: Right! That's it! Out! Both of you!
(Gillian puts a lead on Tony)
GILLIAN: Right! I'm not staying where I'm not wanted. Heel, Tony!
(They leave. There is barking a loud MEOWWRRRR from outside.)
MUM: Oh well. That's one cat that won't be pissing on the rosebushes any more.
Some bloke called Jesus who always has a dozen pals hanging around and keeps bashing the furniture with this big cross thing he drags with him - and the blood dripping everywhere - just not on really - pretty sure she could do better than that although that fat bloke she used to go out with - sat crossed legged all the time with a big cheesy grin on his face and he was bald - she's no taste
