Number fourteen. The naughty bits of an ant.
Mind if we call you “Bruce” to keep it clear?
There are some who call me… Tim?
It’s…
That was last year’s re-enactment of the Battle of Pearl Harbor performed by the BatIey Townswomen’s Guild. It was written, directed and produced by Mrs. Rita Fairbanks.
My brain hurts!
Stay where you are. You’ll never leave this bookshop alive.
He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okay.
Nothing to do with me. I’m not in this show.
The BBC wishes to deny rumors that it is going into liquidation. Mrs. Kelly, who owns the flat where they live, has said that they can stay on till the end of the month.
Dim! Consternation! Uproar!
Right, let’s get some Sheilas.
Howls of derisive laughter, Bruce!
Crack tubes!
Well, he’s having a lot of mental difficulties with his breakfasts, but this is temperament, caused by a small particle of brain in his skull, and once we’ve removed that he’ll be perfectly all right.
Mr Ali Bayan, stark raving mad. Now it’s time for our music spot and we turn the spotlight tonight on the Rachel Toovey Bicycle Choir, (applause) with their fantastic arrangement of ‘Men of Harlech’ for bicycle bells only.
What do you mean ‘Urgghh’? I don’t like spam!
I could not keep away from you. I must have you all the time.
Er, look would you mind running along for ten minutes? Make it half an hour.
We was too late… The Rev. Neuk saw the light.