P'tang, Yang, Kipperbang.

[in bed, praying as he wakes up from an erotic dream about Ann]

Alan:
Please God. Let it be today. Somehow, let it come true today. I know Thursdays are difficult for you, what with the girls having double Domestic Science while we're in double PT. But it's just somehow... I don't think I can last out another day. And in return I promise, I hereby solemnly promise that I won't even *think* about... the other things. Well, *try* not to think about the other things. I didn't all day yesterday, or last night when I got into bed. And I'm not now, honest to God, God.

[he takes his hands out from under the bedclothes to prove that he's not been masturbating]

Alan:
Look, no hands. Please God. Today or tomorrow - or early next week at the latest, weather permitting. Just *one* kiss. One'll do. Amen. And I'll never ask for anything again. Promise.

Alan:
Bums are nothing really - everyone's got a bum. Always have had - they're nothing to be ashamed of. D*cks aren't either - everyone's got a dick. It's only the human torso. Tits included - I mean they're just for feeding babies with, deep down, not for bouncing about. The same goes for getting a feel. Kissing's different. A kiss is...

Tommy:
Girls like it as well, you know.

Alan:
Like what?

Tommy:
What boys like... and some of them bloody love it.

Alan:
I'm not talking about just French girls.

Tommy:
[knowingly] Aye, I'm not either.

[as he is walking to school, Alan flamboyantly bowls an imaginary cricket ball, and pulls a muscle. As he hops around in agony he sees two workmen watching him]

Alan:
Aaaargh! It's cramp! Bloody hell-fire and scrotums.

Road Worker:
Millions of pounds on education.

Road Worker:
It'll be with him living under the shadow of the Bomb, I expect.

[Alan has finally kissed Ann]

John Arlott - Cricket Commentator:
And Duckworth has done it. England have won the most dramatic victory in the history of cricket. The entire crowd - and I'll wager the entire nation - rises to its feet in homage to Quack-Quack Duckworth who went to the wicket a boy... and came back a man.

[the boys are playing an impromptu game of cricket on waste ground next to the canal. Alan hits the ball for six... into the canal]

Geoffrey:
Berk!

Boy:
You stupid bugger.

Geoffrey:
It's in the bloody canal, you berk. If it sinks, you're out.

Abbo:
[laconically] We'll have to move that canal!

[Ann and Geoffrey are saying their farewells as they are about to go home in different directions]

Geoffrey:
[romantically] Ma?ana.

Ann:
[romantically] Ma?ana.

Geoffrey, Ann:
[together] Ma?ana's not soon enough for me.

[Alan looks nauseated at this display of affection]

[Abbo and Shaz are helping Alan learn his lines. They come to the line where Alan's character kisses Ann's character]

Alan:
[quoting line from play] "I have seen the light of truth in what's happened and the light of love in your fianc?e's eyes - love for me."

Abbo:
Then you stride over to her, take her in your arms and... bleeeeugh!

[Abbo pretends to vomit]

Shaz:
Puke and vomitudinosty!

Abbo:
Spewosity upthrow!

Alan:
[echoing Ann's comment to him earlier] That's stupid, that. Long drivel words that don't mean anything.

[Alan walks off in disgust]

Shaz:
He's getting more like my Auntie Phyllis every day.

Abbo:
It's the strain of learning his lines.

Shaz:
Either that or he's been overdoing it.

[Abbo looks horrified]

Abbo:
Overdoing it can't make you go like you Auntie Phyllis, can it?

Alan:
When I walk past your desk, I breathe in on purpose to smell your skin. It's the most beautiful smell there is.

Ann:
It's only Yardley's.