Hmm. It’s very good about the spectacles.
Stage ready for confusing, sir!
You’re no fun any more!
Right, right, stop it. This film’s gotten silly. Started off with a nice little idea about grannies attacking young men, but now it’s gotten silly.
Notice that they do not so much fly as…plummet.
Up and down like the Assyrian Empire!
If we’re on film, there must be someone filming us.
Well that’s, er, very interesting, because, er, I am, in fact, made entirely of wood.
You can catch it off lampposts.
The larch. The larch.
Well, I’m afraid I shan’t be coming on your expedition, sir, as I’ve absolutely no confidence in anyone involved in it.
It’s an entirely new strain of sheep, a killer sheep that can not only hold a rifle but is also a first-class shot.
But I am a chartered accountant.
Look here old fellow, I know when a chap’s cut my hair and when he hasn’t. So will you please stop fooling around and get on with it.
This is zany madcap humour.
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.
No, m’lud, the full penalty of the law is hardly sufficient. I insist I must be made an example of.
I… I’m not really a gorilla.
At the Home Office, the Minister for Inserting Himself in Between Chairs and Walls in Men’s Clubs, was at his desk after a short illness. He spent the morning dealing with the Irish situation and later in the day had long discussions with the Minister for Running Upstairs Two at a Time, Flinging the Door Open and Saying ‘Ha-ha! Caught You, Mildred’.
I remember Doug was very keen on boxing, but when he learned to walk he took up putting the boot in the groin. He was very interested in that. His mother had a terrible job getting him to come in for tea. Putting his little boot in he’d be, bless him.