Ten weeks! Blimey, can’t you just leave this one?
Are you insinuating something?
Drop your panties, Sir William, I cannot wait till lunchtime.
What are ya gonna do, bleed on me?!
No, it’s not. An emergency is 290… “where there is actual or apparent loss of combustible gaseous substances.”
I have this terrible feeling of déjà vu…
Look! There’s the old man from Scene 24!
He is that rarest of criminals - a blanc-mange impersonator and cannibal.
Regards,
Shodan
No, no, no, you loopy brothel inmate!
He scarpered!
Now don’t do a thing with it love, just put it in the bin over there.
It’s not much of a cheese shop, is it, really?
Reg, for God’s sake, it’s perfectly simple: all you’ve got to do is to go out of that door now, and try to stop the Romans’ nailing him up! It’s happening, Reg! Something’s actually happening, Reg! Can’t you understand?!..>Groan<
This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedemir. Explain again how sheeps’ bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes.
Never mind, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you Ken Buddha and his inflatable knees.
I have this terrible feeling of déjà vu…
To be blunt, your cat is in a rut. It’s the old stockbroker syndrome, the suburban fin de siecle ennui, angst, weltschmertz, call it what you will.
I don’t know. Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that’s all - I didn’t expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
(I just couldn’t help myself 
)
One on’t cross beams gone owt askew on treddle.