He’s bluffing. You’re mind’s gone, Jenkins. You’re rubbish.
Come on, brandish that raspberry. Come at me with it. Give me Hell.
Well you’d better cut down a little then
I never!
Shut up. Now look, have you or have you not got his leg?
HEADMASTER: Shut up, Stebbins! I haven’t finished. Oh, by the way, congratulations on winning the Italian Grand Prix at Monza.
STEBBINS: Thank you, sir.
HEADMASTER: Shut up.
Finest in the district!
Well while you’re thinking about that, I’d like to bring the duck in here, and ask her, if possible, to clarify the whole question of currency restrictions, and customs regulations in the world today
Now, I’ve noticed a tendency for this programme to get rather silly.
Quite right, quite right.
Right, right, stop it. This film’s got silly. Started off with a nice little idea about grannies attacking young men, but now it’s got silly.
Two civilian gentlemen to see you, sir!
Good Lord yes. The place is a constant blaze. Wooden buildings, d’you know. I lost my wife in Norway.
Pinin’ for the fjords?!?
All right. All right, all right, all right. My name’s Police Constable Henry Thatcher, and this is a raid. I have reason to believe that there are certain substances on the premises.
Hello. Should there be another television channel, or should there not? On tonight’s programme the Minister for Broadcasting, The Right Honourable Mr Ian Throat MP.
This man is no ordinary man. This is Mr. F G Superman. To all appearances, he looks like any other law-abiding citizen. But Mr. F G Superman has a secret identity. When trouble strikes at any time, at any place, he is ready to become… BICYCLE REPAIR MAN!
Anyway.
Hello, hello, who are you? You’re an out-of-work writer? Well, you’re fired. Roll the credits.
All right, woman, all right I’ve got a tongue in my head - I’ll do ‘talkin’.