Father: And when do you expect to get married?
Shabby: Oh, right away, sport, right away. You know, I haven’t had it for weeks!
She’s beautiful, she’s rich, she’s got huuuuge…tracts of land…
Shabby: I clean out public lavatories.
Father: Is there promotion involved?
Shabby: Oh yeah, yeah. (produces handkerchief and clears throat horribly into it) After five years they give me a brush. I’m sorry, squire, I’ve gobbed on your carpet.
Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten British housewives can’t tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
You have green, scaly skin with a soft yellow underbelly with a series of fin-like ridges running down your spine and tail. Although lizardlike in shape, you can grow anything up to thirty feet in length, with huge teeth that can bite off great rocks and trees. You inhabit arid and sub-tropical zones and wear spectacles.
You have to play him all, you know, shaky legs and pratfalls and the dentures coming out. And then there’s that heart-rending scene where he goes right off his nut - beee bid dee deee - which can take out of you, what with having the crown to keep on.
Regards,
Shodan
The low slim-line has been cut off-the-shoulder to heighten the effect of the Minister’s fine bone structure. Well, I think the Minister is coming to the end of his answer now, so let’s go back over and join the discussion.
You probably noticed that I didn’t say ‘and now for something completely different’ just now.
It’s…
…a sign that we must gather shoes together in abundance.
Tonight on The Money Programme, we’re going to look at money. Lots of it. On film, and in the studio. Some of it in nice piles, others in lovely clanky bits of loose change, some of it neatly counted into fat little hundreds, delicate fivers stuffed into bulging wallets, nice crisp clean cheques, pert pieces of copper coinage thrust deep into trouser pockets, romantic foreign money rolling against the thigh with rough familiarity, beautiful wayward curlicued banknotes, filigree copperplating cheek by jowl with tumbling hexagonal milled edges, rubbing gently against the terse leather of beautifully-balanced bank books…
Spare a talent for an old ex-leper?
That’s you, m’lud, not you, m’lud.
Tough titty if it did, ya nasty spotted prancer.
It’s perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy. Bally Jerry…pranged his kite right in the how’s yer father…hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harper’s and caught his can in the Bertie.
It is the rabbit!
Well don’t worry about that. But please do sit down.
You’re no fun anymore!
Well, they’ve had very bad luck on the tour so far. They missed four very easy kicks against the Exeter Amateur Operatic Society, which must have cost them the match and then of course there was that crippling defeat at the hands of the Derry and Toms Soft Toy Department, so I don’t think they can be really fancying their chances against the London Pooves on Saturday.
I want you to be my helpmate. As Tarzan had his Jane, as Napoleon had his Josephine, as Frankie Laine had whoever he had, I want you to help me in my plan to dominate the world!