Don’t you shout at me, madam, don’t come that tone. Now then, I must ask you to accompany me down to the dairy and do some aptitude tests.
Bring out’cher dead!
I think I’ll go for a walk.
He wants to go walkies.
That’s a very silly line. Sit down.
Good evening. I’m Mrs. What-number-are-you-dialing-please?
Gentlemen! I have bad news. This room is surrounded by film.
[caption] WE WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAY IN WHICH POLITICIANS ARE REPRESENTED IN THIS PROGRAM. IT WAS NEVER OUR INTENTION TO IMPLY THAT POLITICIANS ARE WEAK-KNEED, POLITICAL TIME-SERVERS WHO ARE CONCERNED MORE WITH THEIR PERSONAL VENDETTAS AND PRIVATE POWER STRUGGLES THAN THE PROBLEMS OF GOVERNMENT, NOR TO SUGGEST AT ANY POINT THAT THEY SACRIFICE THEIR CREDIBILITY BY DENYING FREE DEBATE ON VITAL MATTERS IN THE MISTAKEN IMPRESSION THAT PARTY UNITY COMES BEFORE THE WELL-BEING OF THE PEOPLE THEY SUPPOSEDLY REPRESENT NOR TO IMPLY AT ANY STAGE THAT THEY ARE SQUABBLING LITTLE TOADIES WITHOUT AN OUNCE OF CONCERN FOR THE VITAL SOCIAL PROBLEMS OF TODAY.
Oh, oh, yes, yeah well, unfortunately, guv, that offer’s no longer valid. You see, it turned out not to be economically viable, so we now have a totally new offer.
Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten British housewives can’t tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab.
The plumage don’t enter into it - it’s stone dead.
They must think the sun shines out of your ass.
What a terrible joke!
Nothing to do with me. I’m not in this show.
Why don’t you do a documentary about the drug problem round in Walton Street?
We’ve done fruit the last nine weeks.
There will now be a whopping great intermission, during which small ice creams in very large boxes will be sold. Another way we can drive people away from the cinema is by showing you advertisements.
Well, I think television’s killed real entertainment. In the old days we used to make our own fun. At Christmas parties I used to strike myself on the head repeatedly with blunt instruments while crooning.
Yes, we’d like a bed, a double bed, and I wondered if you’d got one for about fifty pounds.
You know … two lone figures silhouetted against the dying rays of the setting sun. The music swells, you’ve got a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye…