He doesn't like the perfume

Poncey poncey poncey... Now what banal juxtaposition of light and dark, old and new can I capture and talk about for tomorrows blip?

What I think of when I hear "Ponce"


Marwood: There's a man over there who doesn't like the perfume. The big one. Don't look, don't look! We're in danger, we've got to get out.
Withnail: What are you talking about?
Marwood: I've been called a ponce.
Withnail: What F*CKER said that?

Irishman: I called him a ponce. And now I'm calling you one, PONCE!
Withnail: Would you like a drink?