It’s only a model.
I didn’t write that! Sounds more like Dickens…
Uh-oh, here comes that wacky queen again!
Oh there you go, bringing class into it again.
Lemon curry?
Your Majesty is like a dose of clap.
it’s just gone 8 o clock and time for the penguin on top of your television set to explode.
Before you arrive is pleasure, and after is a pain in the dong.
I can’t take 'im like that! It’s against regulations!
It was one of Wilde’s.
We apologize again for the fault in the subtitles. Those responsible for sacking the people who have just been sacked have been sacked.
Hello to you live from the Grillomat Snack Bar, Paignton. And so, without any more ado, let’s have the titles.
You ought to go and see a psychiatrist. You’re a loony. You might even need a new brain.
Now this is for £15 and it’s to stop us revealing the name of your lover in Bolton.
Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in a succulent, Swiss, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose.
Mate, this bird wouldn’t “vroom” if you put four million volts through it!
We use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram’s bladder, emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark’s vomit.
Nuu-wom!
Lark’s vomit?!?
Mince pie for me, please.