Hotel Splendide

Dezmond Blanche:
I'm going to kill your f***ing cake!

Stanley Smith:
Desmond's brother, Ronald, is a cook and has created a distinct cuisine based on seaweed and eels.

Morton Blanche:
Lovely stew! Chicken, was it?

Ronald Blanche:
Yes. Long, black slippery sea chickens.

Waiter:
[to kitchen boy] Get your thumb out of your arse and wash those dishes up.

Ronald Blanche:
Oh, but please, wash your thumb first.

Kath:
[to Ronald] You wouldn't know a cuisine if it came up and bit you on the arse!

[first lines]

Stanley Smith:
[narration] The Hotel Splendide is a unique and marvelous place. It's an ideal spot to rest or convalesce, with full hydro-spa facilities, no shortage of fresh fish, and a friendly family atmosphere, which hasn't change since Mrs. Blanche died last year.

Stanley Smith:
There's a time and a place for everything, Dezmond. That's the beauty of routine.

Stanley Smith:
Odor sharper than a serpent's tooth. A simple omelet can be a dangerous thing in the right hands.

voice of Mrs Blanche:
[on record player] Blanching and poaching is also acceptable. But ingredients may never be fried or sauteed. Better to submit to intestinal surgery than to allow one french fried potato to find its way into the colon.

Stanley Smith:
The great thing about the Chinese language is that the word for crisis also means opportunity. What I want to know is, if being gassed to death by your own waste counts as opportunity.

Ronald Blanche:
I only wish that I'd stood up to our f***ing mother, instead of pissing the last five years of my life away.

Dezmond Blanche:
*This* is a desecration of our regime.

Stanley Smith:
*This* is our sister's wake. [continues dancing]

[last lines]

Entire Staff:
Come on Stanley! Come on Stanley!