Knight: Perhaps he was dictating.
King Arthur: Oh, shut up.
It’s Deirdre.
All right then, if he’s resting, I’ll wake him up!
You get a nude lady with fully comprehensive motor insurance. If you just want third party then she has to keep her bra on,
Oh, wicked, bad, naughty, evil Zoot! Oh, she is a naughty person, and she must pay the penalty – and here in Castle Anthrax, we have but one punishment for setting alight the grail-shaped beacon. You must tie her down on a bed…and spank her! And after you have spanked her, you may deal with her as you like. And then…spank me. Yes, yes, you must give us all a good spanking. And after the spanking, the oral sex!
I’m a Red Sea pedestrian!
Kipling Road was a typical sort of East End street; people were in and out of each other’s houses with each other’s property all day. They were a cheery lot.
…and there was much rejoicing.
Well one day I was sitting at home threatening the kids, and I looked out of the hole in the wall and sees this tank drive up and one of Dinsdale’s boys gets out and he comes up, all nice and friendly like, and says Dinsdale wants to have a talk with me. So he chains me to the back of the tank and takes me for a scrape round to Dinsdale’s. And Dinsdale’s there in the conversation pit with Doug and Charles Paisley, the baby crusher, and a couple of film producers and a man they called ‘Kierkegaard’, who just sat there biting the heads of whippets and Dinsdale sayd ‘I hear you’ve been a naughty boy Clement’ and he splits me nostrils open and saws me leg off and pulls me liver out, and I said my name’s not Clement and then he loses his temper and nails my head to the floor.
Luxury.
“Do you have any?” he asked, expecting the answer, “No.”
Ordinarily, yes, sir. Today the van broke down.
It’s from the BBC. They want to know if I want to be in a sketch on telly.
In fact, our Accounting Department told us we really didn’t need a pantomime horse at all.
Crucifixion? Good. Out of the door, line on the left, one cross each. Next. Crucifixion? Good. Out of the door, line on the left, one cross each. Next. Crucifixion?
Oh, so you’re Italian, then?
The only people we hate more than the Romans are the fucking Judean People’s Front.
Gimme the 'oop!
The same drawing room. One lobotomy later
Is your name not Bruce, then?