In that case, I shall have to kill you.
I was an inspired guess.
So anyway, I became a barber.
We done the passion fruit.
We done oranges, apples, grapefruit…
Whole and segments.
Pomegranates, greengages…
Grapes, passion fruit…
Lemons…
Plums…
Mangoes in syrup…
How about cherries?
We did them.
Red and black?
Yes!
There are just too many Whickers.
Tele van angolnákkal a légpárnás hajóm!
Right, well, up on the table, arms out, fingers together, knees bent…
Will you be quiet!
Well, we’ll give a tinkle then.
All brontosauruses are thin at one end; much, much thicker in the middle and then thin again at the far end. That is the theory that I have and which is mine and what it is, too.
It’s not a question of where he grips it! It’s a simple question of weight ratios!
Are you going to be in there all night?
Rotten. Rotten. You’re no bloody use at all. You’re an utter bloody wash-out. You make me sick, you weed!
(zzzzZZT!) Message for you, Sir.
[singing] I feel happy... I feel happy.
You. Yellow. Bastard!
The polar bear’s been in her garden again.
A shroe a shroe, my dinkum for a shroe 
But what do we really know of this tortured ponce?
Well, uh, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady.