Boon

[Ken and Harry find hard-core pornography hidden inside a box of frozen bacon that was being smuggled in from The Netherlands.]

Helen Yeldham:
[primly] Harry, could you get that muck out of here. I find it extremely upsetting.

[At their annual dinner, the golf club committee have accused Harry of stealing their money.]

Harry Crawford:
Let me explain! Why don't you listen to me? I've been made a target!

[committee members jeer and throw food at Harry]

Alex Wilton:
[yells] How dare you! How dare you?

[someone bends down to pick up a bread roll to throw at Harry]

Alex Wilton:
[yells] Leave it!

Alex Wilton:
They're just not worth it, Harry.

Harry Crawford:
Right! I'm a man of very few words. Pack up and bugger off.

Viscount James Blackwater:
I beg your pardon?

Harry Crawford:
And if you *have* dug up anything, bung it in the back of the Land Rover.

Viscount James Blackwater:
I don't think we know each other, do we?

Harry Crawford:
We're as friendly as we're ever going to get, mate!

[Joe Green thinks he deserves more respect from Ken]

Joe Green:
How about sticking a "sir" on the end of that?

Ken Boon:
[mutters] How about sticking it up your exhaust?

[Alex has just demonstrated her self-defence techniques to Rocky, who is now writhing on the floor in agony]

Alex Wilton:
Of course the other rule I teach my ladies is "kick him in the goolies and run like bloody hell". Need a hand up?

Rocky Cassidy:
[gasps in pain] No!

Ken Boon:
Come on Harry, spit it out.

Harry Crawford:
Spit what out?

Ken Boon:
I can always tell when you've got bad news. Your eyes go all small - like a gerbil's.

[at the railway station, having just escorted a wanted man onto the train, after a lot of hassle]

Harry Crawford:
Lot of fuss over nothing, eh?

Ken Boon:
Harry, the next time you lumber me with a job like that, I'm going to take one of your CBS mugs and shove it right up your...

[guard blows his whistle]

Harry Crawford:
I don't know what's matter with you these days, Ken. You're getting very moody in your old age.

Alex Cavendish:
[seductively, to Laura] Twice in one day. It's a small community. People will talk.

Laura Marsh:
[pointing to Harry] Er, this is my editor, Lionel Baxter. Alex Cavendish.

Harry Crawford:
How d'you do?

Alex Cavendish:
Pleasure. I'd look after her, if I was you, Lionel. Handcuff her to the desk, or something.

Harry Crawford:
Yes, I'm thinking about it.

Alex Cavendish:
Excuse me.

[Alex walks off to greet another guest]

Harry Crawford:
[whispers to Laura] Lionel! Do I *look* like a Lionel?

[Ken is about to go undercover in the Hells Angels and Harry is concerned for his safety]

Harry Crawford:
You meet all sorts of riff-raff down there.

Ken Boon:
I'm doing a favour for a mate, just snooping around the place, not infiltrating the KGB, mate.

Harry Crawford:
That's as maybe, Ken. But you do hear stories, you know.

Ken Boon:
What stories?

Harry Crawford:
Well, all that satantical stuff. Blood rites. Initiation ceremonies. Animal sacrifices.

Ken Boon:
I tell you what, Harry - I'll bring you back a virgin!

[Harry is describing Ken to a client]

Harry Crawford:
He's a bit of a rough diamond, but his heart's in the right place.

[guard dog barks, apparently in agreement]

Ken Boon:
[to himself] My sentiments exactly, old son.

[Glynis at her squeakiest!]

Ken Boon:
Glynis, where are you going?

Glynis:
Well it's Friday afternoon, Mr Boon.

Ken Boon:
I know it's Friday afternoon.

Glynis:
Well I always see my acupuncturist on Fridays.

Ken Boon:
Acupuncture?

Glynis:
Mmm. For my back. Oh, he's absolutely marvellous. After half an hour with one of his needles, I feel like a new woman.

Ken Boon:
Listen, love. Can't you arrange it for another day? I mean, Harry's left me here and I can't cope on my own.

Glynis:
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Boon, but I did tell Mr Crawford. I can't miss my appointment.

Ken Boon:
Well who's going to look after the reception?

Glynis:
He should have told you. I've got to go. I'll miss my bus. Otherwise, you know...

[Kevin Tracken's company is competing against CBS for an award as security firm of the year]

Kevin Tracken:
Glad to see you're putting a brave face on it.

Alex Wilton:
I thought *you* were the only one with two to choose from.

Harry Crawford:
Smile when the votes are counted, Kevin.

Kevin Tracken:
It's time to believe your own publicity now, Harry. You're going to need more than the sympathy vote on the day. No, we're the only real contender in this one. We're bigger than you and we're better than you.

Alex Wilton:
[coldly] Size isn't important. It's what you do with it.