Today we have, for appetizers moules marinières, pâté de foie gras, beluga caviar, eggs Benedictine, tart de poireaux, that’s leek tart, frogs’ legs amandine, or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd, c’est à dire, little quails’ eggs on a bed of puréed mushroom. It’s very delicate, very subtle.
Oh, shit, it’s Mr. Creosote!
Drop your panties Sir William, I cannot wait till lunchtime.
Well most things we do for pleasure nowadays are taxed, except one.
Oh, I am afraid our life must seem very dull and quiet compared to yours. We are but eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between sixteen and nineteen-and-a-half, cut off in this castle with no one to protect us. Oooh. It is a lonely life: bathing, dressing, undressing, knitting exciting underwear.
I would tax Raquel Welch… and I have a feeling she’d tax me.
Esther Williams then.
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.
,Monty Python’s Flying Circus!
It’s….
Bottom
Spam!
Lemon curry?
Of course the big question that everyone’s asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties?
Dear Sir, I am writing to complain about that sketch about people failing out of a high building. I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once…
Do NOT think of Russia!
Nothing to do with me. I’m not in this show.
I’m not dead yet.
I see. You’d better wait here. I’ll get a cloth.
Morning. Upstairs. Be careful, it’s very steep. Almost there.
My nipples explode with delight!