a conversation leading to a fight between two peoples

A. It's about a geezer.
B. What is?
A. This fuckin story I'm writing.
B. Oh yeah, is it?
A I can see you're being you're usual enthusiastic self.
B. What ...?
A. I dunno why I bother with you, you're such a miserable self centred cunt!
B. Whoa hold up minute, what you going on about?
A. Well I'm writing this story, you know the one I keep talking about?
B. Yea, and?
A. Well can you show at least, a little bit of interest in it?
B. Why?
A. Well I suppose if you put it like that, yea really, why indeed?
B. Hahahahaha
A. That wasn't meant to be funny.
B. Oh Ok..
A. For fuck's sake Barry humour me a bit will you...?
B. Well I just tried to,I laughed and you got pissed off, so no I don't want to humour you now.
A. I'm fucking exasperated now.
B. Hahahahahaahahaah.
A. You're taking the piss now!
B. No I'm not
A. Hmmm I think you fuckin are.
B. Not me guv.
A. You know what I'm gonna do, I'm going down the pub.
B. Hold on I'll come with you.
A. You fuckin won't!
B. Why not?
A. Cos you're a cunt!
B. Hahahahahaha, you're a funny fucker Tom, you really are.
A. Funny am I ?
B. Yea.
A. See how funny this is then. When I get back from the pub how about you've got you're gear and got the fuck out of my flat, you fuckin ponce.
B. Aww come on ease up. It's not my fault you got a knock back with that little Dutch bird last night.
A. Knock back! Are you alright? She was as mad as a fuckin March Hare!
B. Hahahahahahahahaha!
A. That's it now I've had enough of you, get the fuck out of here now!
B. But where am I gonna go?
A. Not my problem son, get out!
B. No, Fuck it I'm not going anywhere. This is all really over the top. You get blown out by some mad Dutch bird and I'm being made homeless, I don't think so.
A. Oh yea!
B. Ouch that hurt!
A. It was meant too
B. Ok well two can play at that game.
A. Oww, right you fuckin wait.
B. No put that down Tom, No wait Tom, put it down, noooooo, aaaaagh!
A. Ooops, Barry.......Barry........... You alright?
B. Aaaagh, what the fuck have you done?
A. I lost me temper, you know what I'm like when I lose me temper.
B. Is that blood?
A. Yea.
B. Do I need stitches.
A. Na, you'll be alright, put you're boots on let's go down the pub.
B. Hold on I'll just wash the blood off an I'll be with you.