Can I put the tube in the baby’s head?
Silly! I suppose it is, a bit. What have we been doing wasting our lives with all this nonsense?
Terrier makes a lovely fish. Feet off, fins on, small metal tube through the back of the head so’s it can breath. There you go.
Once in the sewer, timing will be of the essence. There is a Roman feast later in the evening, so we must move fast, and don’t wear your best sandals. Turning left here, we enter the Caesar-Augustus memorial sewer and from there, proceed directly to the hypocaust. This has just been re-tiled, so terrorists, careful with those weapons. We will now be directly beneath Pilate’s audience chamber itself. This is the moment for Habbakuk to get out his prong.
Get on with it. Get on with it!
“Stop that! Stop that! Much too silly!”
Good thinking, sir. I’ll get the horse.
We are but eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between sixteen and nineteen-and-a-half, cut off in this castle with no one to protect us. Oooh. It is a lonely life: bathing, dressing, undressing, making exciting underwear.
Souvenir of Calvary. Very nice little item, this. Wrap it 'round a lamp and the crosses twinkle on and off. Very nice. Doubles as a tablecloth or a curtain or—…
I have a vewy gweat fwiend in Wome named “Biggus… Dickus.”
“One, two, five!” “Three, sir.”
About one, call it none.
Oh my God, what a mess. 'Ere, did you do this?
What’re you going to do, bleed on me?
It’s every man’s right to have babies if he wants them.
Drop your panties, Sir William, I cannot wait 'til lunchtime.
Dear Old Codgers,
I am President of the United States of America.
Yours truly,
R. M. Nixon.
Don’t come here with that posh talk you nasty, stuck-up twit.
Squad! Camp it… UP!
Ah! I will not buy this tobacconist’s, it is scratched.