Fathom

Peter Merriwether:
[joking with Fathom] I believe you're kidding on the square.

Reporter:
Se?orita, how did you ever get a name like Fathom?

Fathom Harvill:
A fathom is six feet. Papa was hoping for a tall son. Papa was disappointed.

Peter Merriwether:
Fathom, eh? I never met a Fathom. Where did you ever get a kinky name like that?

Fathom Harvill:
First initials for uncles- Freddy, Arthur, Tom, Harry, Oscar, Milton. They were all rich, and Papa wasn't taking any chances- unlike me.

Fathom Harvill:
The name's Fathom Harvill.

Mike, Owner of Casa Miguel:
Fathom? How'd you get a name like Fathom?

Fathom Harvill:
It's short for Elizabeth.

Sergi Serapkin:
Please sit down, Miss...?

Fathom Harvill:
Harvill. Fathom Harvill. Please don't ask me how I got the name Fathom.

Sergi Serapkin:
Let me guess. Your father wanted a very tall son. Or you were named after wealthy relatives. Or as a child, you were very deep.

Fathom Harvill:
Two out of three, that's not bad.

Fathom Harvill:
I don't make a habit of murdering people I haven't been introduced to.

Fathom Harvill:
[to Serapkin] Where I come from, we have a little ancient saying of our own: "Men on the make can go jump in the lake."

Fathom Harvill:
The next jumpsuit I order won't have a zipper!

Flight Lt. Timothy Webb:
[Watching the body of Col Campbell fall to the ground] Sorry about that, Guv'ner.

Fathom Harvill:
[Recognising the serial number Peter has just read out] Hey - that's my passport number!

Peter Merriwether:
[Looking at Fathom's passport] You know, your picture doesn't do you justice!

Flight Lt. Timothy Webb:
[to Fathom] Amazing what fish you can pull out of the sea if you're patient!

Flight Lt. Timothy Webb:
[Spotting Merriwether in the helicopter] Keep following, chum - Col Campbell has a nice reception committee waiting for you!

Peter Merriwether:
[while watching Fathom running away from the bull] I love this world!

Fathom Harvill:
Then why do you want to blow it up?

Peter Merriwether:
Isn't that a little melodramatic?

Fathom Harvill:
What do you call H-Bombs - light comedy? [Starts running again]

Peter Merriwether:
H-Bombs? How did H-Bombs get into this cosy chat?

Mr. Trivers:
She's killed my missus!

Flight Lt. Timothy Webb:
[Pulling Fathom into the train compartment] Someone's turning you into a piegon - carrier type!