I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
That’s Inner City Rail for you!
Good evening and welcome, ladies and gentlemen. At this time we’d like to up the tempo a little, change the mood. We’ve got a number requested by Pip, Pauline, Nigel, Tarquin and old Spotty - Tarquin’s mother - a little number specially written for the pubescence of ex-King Zog of Albania, and it’s entitled “Art Gallery.” Hope you like it.
My brain hurts!
Ladies and gentlemen, I have in this box twenty-three white mice. Mice which have been painstakingly trained over the past few years, to squeak at a selected pitch. (He raises a mouse by its tail) This is E sharp… and this one is G. You get the general idea. Now these mice are so arranged upon this rack, that when played in the correct order they will squeak ‘The Bells of St Mary’s’. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you on the mouse organ ‘The Bells of St Mary’s’. Thank you.
Two people have just fallen out of that window to their almost certain death.
Now what seems to be the problem? You can tell me - I’m a vet, you know.
Listen mate. I’m beginning to have my doubts about you.
If we took the bones out it wouldn’t be crunchy would it?
And Oliver has run himself over! What a great twit!
Shut up, Stebbins! I haven’t finished. Oh, by the way, congratulations on winning the Italian Grand Prix at Monza.
There’s a whole horde of them marauding Visigoths to see y’all.
I want you kids to get a head!
A horse, a horse, a kingdom for a horse.
May I recommend the alligator purees.
Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time.
Sir, I don’t know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history.
There is NO rule six!
Oh doctor, I’ve just shot another patient. I don’t think there’s any point in your seeing him.
Our special tonight is minorities!