Last year you were the subject of controversy when you grafted a pederast onto an Anglican bishop.
Oh, no, no. Not at all. No. Um, no, this… this… this is my wife Norah, er, Norah Jane, Norah Jane Stokes…This is A Snivelling Little Rat-Faced Git…And this is his wife Dreary Fat Boring Old Git.
That’s all right, sir: we get all sorts of lines in here. The head waiter will be along to abuse you in a few moments, and now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and commit suicide.
Wankel Rotary Engine.
Get on with it. Get on with it!
Notice that they do not so much “flit” as “plummet”.
Regards,
Shodan
He was such a pretty baby, always so kind and gentle, and really considerate to his mother. Not at all the kind of person you’d expect to pulverize his opponent into a bloody mass of flesh and raw bone, spitting teeth and fragments of gum into a ring which had become one man’s hell and Ken’s glory.
Yes, sir. It was a very very bad thing to have done and I’m really very ashamed of myself. I can only say it won’t happen again. To have murdered so many people in such a short space of time is really awful, and I really am very, very, very sorry that I did it, and also that I’ve taken up so much of the court’s valuable time listening to the sordid details of these senseless killings of mine. I would particularly like to say, a very personal and sincere ‘sorry’ to you, m’lud, for my appalling behaviour throughout this trial. I’d also like to say sorry to the police, for putting them to so much trouble (shot of three heavily bandaged exhausted-looking policemen behind him) for the literally hours of work they’ve had to put in, collecting evidence and identifying corpses and so forth. You know I think sometimes we ought to realize the difficult and often dangerous work involved in tracking down violent criminals like myself and I’d just like them to know that their fine work is at least appreciated by me.
He’s going to tell! He’s going to tell!
He’s going to tell! He’s going to tell!
He’s going to tell! He’s going to tell!
He’s going to tell! He’s going to tell!
Reg: But apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, viniculture, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh-water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?
PFJ Member: …Brought peace?
Reg (scoffing): Oh, peace. Shut up!
I distinctly heard a Mexican rhythm combo.
First offense? Yeah, crucifixion.
Anyway.
Ni!
I see. Well, of course, this is just the sort blinkered philistine pig-ignorance I’ve come to expect from you non-creative garbage. You sit there on your loathsome spotty behinds squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker’s cuss for the struggling artist. You excrement, you whining hypocritical toadies with your colour TV sets and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs and your bleeding masonic secret handshakes. You wouldn’t let me join, would you, you blackballing bastards. Well I wouldn’t become a Freemason now if you went down on your lousy stinking knees and begged me.
Can I join your front?
Nah, fuck off.
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He’s going to split a railway carriage with his nose.
And I thought to myself, ‘a little fermented curd will do the trick’, so, I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles!
Look, it’s a bleeding pet, isn’t it? I’ve got a license for me pet dog Eric, and I’ve got a license for me pet cat Eric …
He scarpered!