I don’t like spam!
Shut up!! Baked beans are off.
Righto!
…spam, spam, spam, spam and spam.
Ah Mr. Notlob, ah park your hips, on the sitting device.
How do know so much about swallows?
Oh, well, I’m not very talkative today. It’s a form of defensive response to intense interrogative stimuli.
Monty Python’s Flying Circus tonight comes to you live from the Grillomat Snack Bar, Paignton.
The announcement to which you are now listening, is available only on the executive version of this record, and is not available on any other version.
All right, come on, that’s enough, that’s enough.
It’s all gotten rather silly…
This is Side Two! If you want to play the record from the beginning, please turn over! Do not play this side if you want to hear Side One! This is Side Two!
I don’t like Spam!
If only Bicycle Repair Man were here!
Algy’s here, too.
Don’t call me senõr! I’m not a Spanish person. You must call me Mr. Biggles, or Group Captain Biggles: or Mary Biggles if I’m dressed as my wife, but never senor.
Ah yes, did you bring the um … the specimen of your um … and so on, and so on?
What’s wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss? You don’t have to go leaping straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate. Give her a kiss, boy.
Hello to you live from the Grillomat Snack Bar, Paignton. And so, without any more ado, let’s have the titles.
Oooh, get her! Whoops!
I’ve got your number, ducky.
You couldn’t afford me, dear, two, three.
I’d scratch your eyes out!