Ze stupid English. Zey are prisoners and all they do is the sport.
Mr Bradshaw, will you stand up, please?
What’ll he do-nibble your bum?!
Where’s the traditional cheeky and lovable Cockney sergeant?
He’s not the messiah! He’s just a naughty little boy!
Right! Stop that! It’s SILLY. Very SILLY indeed!
Cheer up, Fritz, it may never happen.
Planning a little excursion, eh, Mr Hilter?
Well, I was about seventeen and some mates and me went to a party, and, er… we had quite a lot to drink and then some of the fellows there… started handing… cheese around… and well just out of curiosity I tried a bit… and well that was that.
It’s certainly uncontaminated by cheese.
Finest in the district!
I’m not oppressing you, Stan. You haven’t got a womb! Where’s the foetus gonna gestate? You gonna keep it in a box?
There’s nothing wrong with that!
She turned me into a newt!
Oh, shit.
A newt?
I got better.
The cartoon peril was no more.
And there was much rejoicing.
Bravely ran away, bravely ran away, away…