Run away! Run away!
That was never a willow.
The… Larch.
Now if anybody else pinches my phrase I’ll throw them under a camel.
Zoom in on the 16mm and hold her, Enid.
But it’s my only line!
It is the rabbit!
Dear Sirs,
As a prolific letter-writer, I feel I must protest about the previous letter. I am nearly sixty and am quite mad, but I do enjoy listening to the BBC Home Service. If this continues to go on unabated …Dunkirk… dark days of the war… backs to the wall… Alvar Liddell … Berlin air lift … moral upheaval of Profumo case … young hippies roaming the streets, raping, looting and killing.
Yours etc.,
Brigadier Arthur Gormanstrop (Mrs.)
All right, sergeant major. At ease. Now, how many chaps have you got left?
Oh, he shouldn’t be saying that, we haven’t done comparatives yet.
He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay.
Hello, hello, who are you? You’re an out-of-work writer? Well, you’re fired. Roll the credits.
Well tried, Harry.
Splunge!
I heard that. Who said that?
Not at all. It’s not even a proper nose; it’s polystyrene.
The lion is in the contract.
Isn’t it awfully nice to have a penis?
In spite of the fact that you only have one.
And it looks like this.