Carry on Regardless

Sir Theodore, Testy Old Man:
Do you provide substitutes?

Miss Cooling:
[shocked] No! This is a respectable firm!

[Dimple has mistakenly arrived at a strip club instead of an aviary]

Strip Club Manager:
What do you want?

Gabriel Dimple:
Your birds, and I can't wait. Tell me, what sort are they?

Strip Club Manager:
What sort you like?

Gabriel Dimple:
Blue tits.

Strip Club Manager:
Eh?

Gabriel Dimple:
Have you got any?

Strip Club Manager:
No. No, this place is centrally heated.

Lily Duveen:
You know it'll take ninety-nine years to clear up this dump.

Bert Handy:
Yeah, well, step by step. That's the method. Little by little.

Sam Twist:
Okay then, boss, where do we start?

Bert Handy:
Well, I reckon to make it easier for us to walk about, we ought to sweep the floor first.

Delia King:
I don't wish to interfere, but I'd have thought it'd be better to start cleaning at the top of the house.

Lily Duveen:
Yes, quite right, I mean disturbed dust will only fall down and muck up what we've already cleaned up.

Francis Courtenay:
Ladies and gentlemen, may I submit, with the greatest of respect, and for the sake of efficient team working, that we all belt up!

Bert Handy:
Hear, hear!

Lily Duveen:
Always the gent!

Sam Twist:
Ooh, ain't he common!

Francis Courtenay:
Let us put ourselves in the hands of Mister Handy and listen to what he says.

Delia King:
Well, I bow to the majority, of course, but I'd like it noted that I did suggest the suggestion I suggested.

Lily Duveen:
And very suggestive it was, too!

Sam Twist:
Bet you this has something to do with atomic energy.

Miss Cooling:
Oh gracious! I do hope you don't finish up in Russia!

Sam Twist:
Well if I do, Miss Cooling, I shall behave myself as an ex Corporal of the Pioneer Corps should. Name, rank, number and keep your hand off my shovel, and that's your lot.

Miss Cooling:
Don't go! Think of brainwashing.

Sam Twist:
[chuckles] How can they wash what isn't there?

[Lily is being fondled by an amorous actor whose hands are all over her]

Martin Paul:
I *like* Helping Hands.

Lily Duveen:
[primly] And I don't like "helping yourself" hands.

Landlord:
Windy stairckey up to the ceily, fine glinty scintillabe up the dangly chanderlabies...