Auf Wiedersehen, Pet

Neville Hope:
Erm... I'll have to ask Brenda...

Oz:
It's the same as all the rastas driving BMWs, you know? 'Cos they think it stands for Bob Marley and the Wailers.

Oz:
You know the difference between a hedgehog and a Range Rover, divvn't you?

Dennis:
No.

Oz:
A hedgehog's got pricks on the outside.

Albert Moxey:
[on Country music] The original head bangers...

Barry Taylor:
Not so much "Heavy Metal" as "Thick Grass". I would think prolonged exposure to this would make you grow udders.

Moxey:
We're planting an herb garden.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah? Well, listen, son. Put me down for a couple of sprigs of the old Bob Hope, I haven't had a decent smoke since I've been out here.

Barry:
Typical, that, isn't it, eh? Here we are, trying to produce life-enhancing vegetation, and all you can think about is mind-destroying drugs.

Dennis:
What time did you come in last night, like? It must have been late, because I was in bed at midnight, you weren't there.

Neville:
It's just as well, isn't it? Otherwise the lads might talk.

Dennis:
And another thing, let's have all those pornographic pin-ups off your locker, right?

Oz:
That's not pornography, man, Dennis. That's art.

Dennis:
What, Fr?ulein Oktober's art?

Oz:
Aye.

Oz:
Pelicans, penguins and the Inland Revenue have all got one thing in common.

Dennis:
What's that?

Oz:
They can all shove their bills up their arse.

Bomber:
Bomber's ready. Bomber's away!

Oz:
I'll tell you one thing, mate. Sex is in its infancy in Gateshead.

Oz:
I've met this Eric. Canny lad, for an Eric.

Policeman:
If this weren't Spain, Albert Arthur Moxey, alias Brendan Mulcahy, arsonist and absconder - your arse would be well and truly nicked.

[on the telephone]

Dennis:
Barry? Where are you?

Barry:
I've no idea, mate. It's taken me bloody half an hour to find a phone box that hasn't been vandalised.

Dennis:
Oh, you're in Newcastle?

[Oz says goodbye as his son gets on the bus to leave for a new life in Italy]

Oz:
You might be a man of the world now, but... never forget your roots, son. Right? You'll always be a Geordie, no matter where you go. 'Cos this is the place that shaped you, and made you what you are, alright?

Rod:
Ciao, Dad.

[bus drives away]

Oz:
Auf Wiedersehen, son.

Barry:
I'll give my business a couple of months, and if it still don't take off, I'll try one of those sunrise industries.

Bomber:
Can't see you as a milkman, Barry.

Oz:
I was just saying to Barry there, owning a wife's very similar to owning a dog. It's just a pity one license costs a hell of a lot more than the other.

Neville:
What's the time?

Wayne:
Nine o'clock thereabouts, and it's come round again, hasn't it? Never fails.

Neville:
What?

Wayne:
The weekend, me old fruit. Once again, we can put on some clean gear and join the human race.

Barry:
I got engaged once. Oh, I think I still am, in fact.

Wayne:
Well, don't you know?

Barry:
Well, we never broke it off officially, like. And she's still got the ring.

Wayne:
Do you still see her?

Barry:
No.

Wayne:
Do you write?

Barry:
No.

Wayne:
Does she write to you?

Barry:
No.

Wayne:
Do you care?

Barry:
No, I don't like her very much.

Wayne:
Why'd you get friggin' engaged, then?

Barry:
Forgot. Oh, I think it was 'cos her dad had a spare season ticket for the Wolverhampton Wanderers.

Wayne:
[sarcastic] Oh, well, obviously. I mean, that could make a young lad's heart sing, couldn't it?

[Barry's attempt at a pick-up line]

Barry:
Hello. Er... would you like to come back to our hut?

[referring to East Berlin]

Dennis:
Apparently it's the most miserable, depressing place you've ever seen in your life.

Neville:
What, worse than here?

[Wayne is preparing for the evening]

Neville:
Who is she?

Wayne:
She's a bit tasty, this one. Not just some bit of splosh you give a portion to, nah. Got a bit up there, this one.

Bomber:
And a bit down there, I wouldn't wonder.

Ingrid:
What would you now be doing if you were now in London?

Wayne:
As it's Friday, I'd probably be working. Or on the dole.

Ingrid:
What is that?

Wayne:
It's the unemployment. We're very big on that in England, it's one of our few spectacular successes. We've managed to put more people out of work than any of our European counterparts.

Neville:
Just got up an hour ago. Slept like a log.

Dennis:
Woke up in the fireplace, eh?

Barry:
I'm growing a beard.

Dennis:
Aye, very good, Barry. I'll inform the press.

Dennis:
Remember, there's only me and you insured to drive this, right? So, no matter how legless we get, nobody lets Oz get behind the wheel.

Barry:
A letter for you.

Oz:
Impossible, man. Naebody knows I'm here.

Barry:
No, look, it's Tyne and Wear. It says on the postmark.

Barry Taylor:
The votes as cast are as follows: The winner is... Yellow.

Dennis Patterson:
Yellow!

Barry Taylor:
By one point.

Dennis Patterson:
Who voted yellow?

Wayne Norris:
I don't like yellow.

Bomber Busbridge:
My neither, it's not a man's colour.

Albert Moxey:
It's a fiddle.

Bomber Busbridge:
I demands a recount.

Barry Taylor:
Figures don't lie y'now.

Wayne Norris:
So who's first choice was it then eh?

Barry Taylor:
Nobody's.

Bomber Busbridge:
Well then how could it win?

Barry Taylor:
Because no two people had the same first choice.

Dennis Patterson:
So everybody's first choice only got two points.

Barry Taylor:
That's right, and yellow got three second places.

Dennis Patterson:
Well that's a smashing system that is, isn't it Barry eh? Everybody gets what nobody wants.

Barry Taylor:
That's democracy Dennis.

Oz:
You know the reason I left this country in the first place, divvn't you, eh? I'll tell you. In a word, Margaret bloody Thatcher, that's why. Because I'd had it, I was up to there with what she'd created. Bloody wasteland. Desolate. Nae joy, nae hope, nae nowt. Where kids get to 21 and have never done a day's work in their life. Honest men have to go out thieving to feed their families. Young bairns can buy heroin in the bike sheds at school. Oh, dear. But I thought, "Nah, nah, nah. It's got to be getting better. It cannae be as bad as what it was, can it?" I was willing to give you lot the benefit of the doubt on this one, you know. But no, no, no. What happens? What happens is I've been back on my native soil for fourteen minutes, and I'm subjected to this act of fascist intimidation! 'Cos that's what it is, you know! That's what it is, and I'll be writing to my MP about this!

Customs Officer:
Spread.

[Oz, naked, faces the wall and complies. The customs officer puts on a glove and prepares to reach up the rear end]

Oz:
What do you think you're going to find up there, eh? A new striker for Newcastle United?

Barry Taylor:
Do you play ping-pong Pippa?

Barry Taylor:
[On British Basketball] Always seemed strange to me, all those seven foot American Negroes playing for Milton Keynes.

Barry Taylor:
They'll probably be in the Bel and Dragon, drinking penis coladas til dawn.

Mr. Galloway:
Move it you two! I want this done by nightfall, even if it takes til tomorrow morning!

Herr Ulrich:
Danke schon.

Oz:
And donkey shite to you too, pal.

Dennis:
I've seen blokes like you come and go all the times I've worked in Germany. Never been out the UK before. Never eaten foreign food, never drank foreign beer. Fish out of water without the wife or the mother to lend a guiding hand. After a week they've lost their passports, they've got pissed, lost most of their money, and become ridiculously nationalistic for the country that can't even bloody employ them in the first place!

Dennis:
When those German scaffolders turn up tonight, let's all make sure that we have a good night. Agreed? You especially, Oz.

Oz:
Oh, absolutely.

Dennis:
And this darts match, right, it's not the World Cup, or a replay of World War II. It's just meant to cement the harmony and the goodwill amongst the British and the Erics. Agreed?

[murmurs of assent]

Dennis:
Good.

Oz:
Mind you, it might only be a darts match, but us British have still got to try and hammer these Germans.

Wayne:
What for?

Oz:
'Cos they're the bastards that bombed me granny.