The Young Ones

[speaking to Bambi, the host of "University Challenge"]

Vyvyan:
I liked the part where you shoved the drill in the virgin otter's face.

Neil:
That wasn't in BAMBI, Vyvyan.

Vyvyan:
It was in the sequel, "Bambi Goes Crazy Ape Bonkers with his Drill and Sex"

Neil:
Is that true Bambi? Did you do a Disney Nasty?

Vyvyan:
I myself have three pairs of socks, and three pairs of knickers. That means I've only worn them... 269 times each since the last wash.

Vyvyan:
This calls for a delicate blend of psychology and extreme violence.

[the camera zooms in dramatically on a matchbox]

Matchbox:
Don't look at me. I'm irrelevant!

Security Guard:
Hang On, What's that?

Vyvyan:
It's my mascot.

Security Guard:
A pig?

Vyvyan:
No!

Security Guard:
It is.

Vyvyan:
It's not, it's a ferret. A severely deformed ferret, I'll grant you that. So severely deformed in fact that it looks a little bit like a pig.

Security Guard:
Looks exactly like a pig.

Vyvyan:
Yes, well, it certainly has been remarked upon. In fact, just as John Hurt is known as the Elephant Man, Bacon Sandwich here is known as the Pig Ferret.

Security Guard:
Bacon Sandwich? Funny name for a ferret, isn't it?

Vyvyan:
Ha ha! And that's where I had you fooled. Because it's not a ferret, it's a pig.

Kendall Mintcake:
My dad's bought me the Socialist Worker's Party for my birthday!

Miss Money-Sterling:
I've got a Porsche!

Rick:
The world's stupidest bottom burp? Vyvyan, Britain.

Neil:
Says "Rick, Britain".

[taking on the persona of Mike]

Vyvyan:
As the one guy said to the other guy when he was getting fed up, "I'm getting fed up."

Neil:
[doing the washing] Come on, guys. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.

Rick:
Ha. They said that about the... , er... , something that took a long time to finish.

Bambi:
He represented the modal cathartic slipwit of the...

[buzzer]

Bambi:
Footlights, Monty.

Lord Monty:
Wasn't it... Monk D'Wally de Honk?

Bambi:
Can you give me any more?

Lord Monty:
Certainly. Will ?50 do?

Bambi:
Absolutely. Spot on.

Rick:
We're getting thrashed, we're getting completely thrashed. Isn't there some way we can cheat?

Neil:
[reading from paper to Rick] Prick... is a wonker.

Special Patrol Group:
Up Scumbag! Up Scumbag!

Vyvyan:
Achtung!

[throws a potato-masher hand grenade at the other team]

Bambi:
And a bonus question for five points... Who has been tampering with my question cards?

Rick:
It was me! It was me!

[loud booing from the audience]

Rick:
No! No! No!

Rick:
[stands up from the table] Why don't you like me?

Vyvyan:
Cos you're a complete bastard

Rick:
Vyvyan, I'm being serious

Vyvyan:
So am I. You're a complete bastard and we all hate you.

Rick:
[chuckles and places hands on hips] I find that very difficult to believe.

Vyvyan:
You wanna bet on it? I'll put down a fiver.

Neil:
Yea I will too.

Mike:
Count me in.

Neil:
[Rick is gulping down pills trying to kill himself] Uh, Vyvyan, can you actually kill yourself with laxatives?

Vyvyan:
I don't know, Neil, but I'm gonna stay and find out!

Rick:
You spiteful bastard, Neil! Just because you've done loads and loads of work for this, just because you're a creepy little swot you've done about 15 million tons of work for this, like a girl, and I'm so hard and street and cool that I've done absolutely bugger all, and you've done loads, look at it, loads and loads, loads and loads...

Neil:
Stop it, Rick! It's only University Challenge, Rick, it's only University Challenge!

Rick:
...loads and loads, loads and loads...

Vyvyan:
[Taking out a book] Well, I've done my revision.

Mike:
The Daily Mirror Book of Facts: Did You Know?

Neil:
Do you think that's where they get the questions from? The world's record for stuffing marshmallows up one single nostril...

Vyvyan:
Ehhh... 604, Toxteth O'Grady, USA.

Neil:
Yeah, right! World's stickiest bogey?

Vyvyan:
Ha! Tried to fool me. That's Toxteth again!

Rick:
The World's Stupidest Bottom-Burp: Vyvyan, Britain!

Rick:
It says "Rick" here.

Train Driver:
I never really wanted to be a train driver, you know. I mean, they told me while at school, if I got two CSEs, when I left school I'd be head of British Steel. That's a lot of nonsense, ennit? I mean, you look at statistics, right. 83% of top British management have been to a public school and Oxbridge, right? 93% of the BBC have been to a public school and Oxbridge, right? 98% of the KGB have been to a public school and Oxbridge. All you get from a public school, right. One, you get a top job, right, and two, you get an interest in perverse sexual practices. I mean, that's why British management's so inefficient. As soon as they get in the boardroom, they're all shutting each others' d*cks in the door!

Mike:
Rick, he threw us off the train because you said ASLEF was an anagram for "total and complete bastard."

Bambi:
Who is the richest man in the world?

Lord Monty:
It's me, isn't it?

Bambi:
No, I'm afraid your father's multinational company crashed this morning.

Train Driver:
[singing] Revolutionary biscuits of Italy / Rise up out of your box / You have nothing to lose but your wafers / Yum yum yum yum yum...

[reading a sign on the train]

Vyvyan:
"Do not lean out of the window." I wonder why?

[he does so and is decapitated]

[answer to Bambi's first question]

Neil:
Uh... can I go to the toilet, please?

Neil:
Ah I wished we'd missed the train after all now. I'm not going to be answer anything, I just know it.

Rick:
Oh come off it Neil you little swotty-pants! God, just look at you. Swatting away for teacher like a total spazmo! God you're really just an utter creep aren't you? You've done loads and load of work for this, and I haven't done anything. Nothing at all! Go on... test me!

Neil:
What?

Rick:
Go on, test me!

Neil:
You just said you hadn't done anything.

Rick:
Stop trying to be clever, just take the book!

Neil:
Alright. But verbatim regurgitation is against my principles.

Rick:
I'm asking you to test me on it, not throw up on it! Alright, now do it properly and don't skip it.

Neil:
O-Level history notes?

Rick:
Yes! Bit of pretty bloody brilliant luck eh? We're doing exactly the same period as I did for O-Level.

Neil:
[reading from Rick's notebook] "Prick is a wonker, signed the rest of the class."

Rick:
Ha ha, yes, ha ha, no that was sort of an in-joke that we had in my form. Actually I was incredibly popular and everyone thought I was great.

Neil:
[continues reading] "... I agree with the rest of the class, signed teacher."

Rick:
[quickly turns to another page] Just test me on the stuff will you? [points] There.

Neil:
Alright, alright. Don't get uncool and heavy. [reads from a lesson] "Crop rotation in the 14th century."

Rick:
Right! [reciting] "Crop rotation in the 14th century was much more widespread..."

Neil:
[interrupts] "Considerably more."

Rick:
What?

Neil:
It's "considerably more widespread" not "much more".

Rick:
Well?

Neil:
Well you said do it properly.

Rick:
Well not that much you stupid, bloody hippie!

Neil:
You said do it properly and don't skip bits! How was I to know that wasn't important?

Rick:
WELL IT WASN'T IMPORTANT! Alright? Now shall we just get on and stop wasting time like this? Right. Crop rotation in the 14th century was *considerably* more widespread after... God I know this... um... don't tell me... after... 1172! [Neil is silent and just looks at Rick] Well, was I right?

Neil:
No, but I didn't think it was important!

Rick:
OK, look, what was the answer then?

Neil:
You just said not to tell you.

Rick:
I did not! I bloody well did not!

Neil:
You did! You did! You said "don't tell me" just before you said "1172"!

Rick:
Yes, but I only meant for a minute!

Neil:
What, a minute from now or a minute from then?

Rick:
Look, just shut up and tell me the answer!

Neil:
Shut up and tell you the answer?

Rick:
[yells] JUST TELL ME THE ANSWER!

Neil:
[looks back at the book] "John".

Rick:
Thank you... "John"?

Neil:
Yeah, "John" is the answer.

Rick:
"Crop rotation in the 14th century was considerably more widespread after... John"?

Neil:
"... Lloyd invented the patent crop rotator."

Rick:
Oh, yes! I knew it, I bloody knew it!

Neil:
You didn't, you didn't, you said "1172"! That's not a bit like "John".

Rick:
You spiteful bastard, Neil! Just because you've done loads and loads of work for this, just because you're a creepy little swot you've done about 15 million tons worth of work, like a girl, and it's because I'm so hard and street and cool that I've done absolutely bugger all, [hysterical] and you've done loads and loads, loads and loads, loads and loads and loads, and loads and loads load... [making a mess of Neil's papers]

Neil:
Stop it, Rick! It's only University Challenge, Rick, it's only University Challenge!

Mike:
Neil, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend?

Right Bleeding Bastard:
Bastard's the name. But you can call me Right Bleeding, all my friends do- or well, *did*.

Mike:
Why, what happened?

Right Bleeding Bastard:
I killed him.

Neil:
I won't say anything because no one ever listens to me anyway. I might as well be a Leonard Cohen record.

Rick:
Gotcha, Vyvyan! Using my ketchup on your corn flakes!

Vyvyan:
Well I couldn't get any milk out of the fridge!

Rick:
Why, what are you, a spazzy?

Vyvyan:
No, there just happens to be an atom bomb in front of the door!

Neil:
[after all the lentils spill out of the cupboard] We'll have to have corn flakes.

Vyvyan:
Corn flakes for breakfast? That's disgusting, Neil!

Neil:
[after kettle blows up] It's as if the kettle's killed itself rather than be used by me.

Right Bleeding Bastard:
Where's your toilet?

Neil:
Upstairs, just follow your nose.

Vyvyan:
[about the person at the door] It's probably someone unbelievably boring.

Neil:
[Upon discovering who's at the door] Oh no! It's the TV detector man!

Rick:
MIKE, YOU BASTARD! Why didn't you buy a license? I can't go to prison, I'm too pretty, I'll get raped!

Neil:
If I had a penny for every time I had to answer the door, I'd have ?5.63

Right Bleeding Bastard:
Right, where's this telly. Ah-hah! So you do have it! You little runt! The old trick, eh? Eat the telly before I get a chance to nick you!

Vyvyan Basterd:
It's a toaster.

Right Bleeding Bastard:
It's a telly you yobbo. Give it back I want to Nick ya!

Rick:
Absolutely pathetic! There's nothing on at all! Humph! Don't know why we bother to pay our license!

Mike TheCoolPerson:
We don't.

Rick:
But, haven't we got a license?

Mike TheCoolPerson:
No.

Rick:
But that makes me a criminal! Right on! Yeah, this will shake them up at the Anarchists Society! Occupying the refectories! So what? This is the real stuff! I'm a fugitive! A desperado! I'm going to form a new union society, right? With me a president! 'People Who Don't Pay Their TV Licenses Against the Nazis!' This is only the beginning!

Vyvyan Basterd:
What are you going to do, Rick? Burn your bra?

Rick:
Well, someone's got to do it, Vyvyan. It's very easy to sit on your backside, isn't it?

Vyvyan Basterd:
Not if you haven't got a bottom!

Mike TheCoolPerson:
Twenty-seven minutes and thirty-two seconds in the bathroom and Mike looks fantastic. Unlike the kitchen! Neil, what's this mess?

Neil Pye:
Well, it's mostly lentils, but there's some crockery mixed in.

Neil:
[talking to a spade] You're a spade. [pauses]

Neil:
I always call him that.

Vyvyan:
Good morning, Neil. Tea ready yet, is it?

Neil:
Shh! The kettle's had a breakdown.

Vyvyan:
Oh, no! That means we'll have to have raw tea again!

Rick:
I notice you haven't written the call down in the book, Mike. That's very interesting, isn't it? I mean, we've got this book here to write down all the calls we make in. I suppose you forgot, did you? Well, I wonder how many other times you conveniently forgot?

Mike:
Rick, what are you talking about? This is a pay phone.

Rick:
[dramatically reciting poetry into the mirror] Pollution! All around! Sometimes... up [raises his eyes] , sometimes... down [lowers eyes] , but always... around [swivels eyes] . Pollution, are you coming to my town? Or am I coming to yours! Hah! We're on different buses, Pollution. But we're both using petrol. BOMBS!

Mike:
Look, suicide might be a great hobby, but I wouldn't do it for a living.

Right Bleeding Bastard:
Where's your licence?

Mike:
As the eunuch said to Mussolini, 'I haven't got one, and if I did, I wouldn't show it to you!'

Mike:
Rick, a social conscience is like a garden shed: you try and eat it, it'll stick in your throat.

Rick:
[gazing in horror at a skin mag Mike has handed him] You're sick, Mike!

Mike:
If people weren't sick, we wouldn't need penicillin.

[explaining cereal contest rules]

Vyvyan:
You have to write in 10 words what Cornflakes mean to you. So I wrote: Cornflakes. Cornflakes. Cornflakes, Cornflakes, Cornflakes. Cornflakes, Cornflakes, Cornflakes, Cornflakes.

Rick:
PATHETIC. You'll never win, you know.

Vyvyan:
Why not?

Rick:
That's only 9 words.

Vyvyan:
Oh, yeah.

[writing]

Vyvyan:
Cornflakes.

Rick:
Hey, wouldn't it be amazing if all this money was real?

Vyvyan:
That is the single most predictable and BORING thing that anyone could ever say whilst playing Monopoly.

[Vyvyan is introducing the guys to his mother... ]

Vyvyan:
That's a friend of mine named Neil, that's a friend of mine named Mike... and that's a complete bastard I know named Rick.

Rick:
[laughing] He's just joking Mrs. Vyvyan, we're actually terrific friends.

Mrs Vyvyan:
Ooh-err. He is a bastard, isn't he?

[the lads meet Madness]

Rick:
Do you lot know "Summer Holiday" by Cliff Richard?

Suggs:
You hum it... I'll smash your face in.

Policeman 1:
I reckon I could have slept with her, if it wasn't for something I said. But we had a row and, uh... I said something about the Pope.

Policeman 2:
That's a bit stupid, you know she's Catholic.

Policeman 1:
Yeah, I know she's Catholic, but I didn't know the Pope was.

Policeman 2:
Still, it's a laugh, isn't it?

Policeman 1:
What is?

Policeman 2:
That noise you make in the back of your throat when you hear a joke.

Policeman 1:
Yeah, that's a laugh, yeah.

Rick:
So tell me Mrs. Vyvyan, why did you give him a girl's name?

Neil:
That's funny. I don't remember ramming a skewer into my head.

[Vyvyan and Rick are playing Monopoly]

Vyvyan:
[reading Community Chest card] You have won 2nd place in a beauty contest...

[Rick laughs]

Vyvyan:
...smash Rick over the head with the bank.

[Vyvyan does so]

Mr. Balowski:
[as Mr Balowski's nephew, Billy] I've not always been mad, y'know, but um... I was actually driven mad by the indifference of architecture and council planners. Y'see I live in a tower block, and um, the thing about those is that there's terrible noise problems, because there's no noise insulation at all y'know, and 8 floors below you there's always some bastard who's got a Yamaha home organ, y'know. You're just about to go to sleep and you hear this doot-doot! chh-chh doot-doot! chh-chh chkdt BAH WA DAH BAH NAOW! doot-doot! chh-chh doot-doot! chh-chh! and like, the people who live upstairs from me, I can't understand what they're doing! Y'know I listen, and all I can hear is this weird noise and it goes voom voom, BLAT-NN BLAT-NN, voom voom, BLAT-NN BLAT-NN, and it sounds, right, it sounds like two elephants on a motorbike riding round and round, while a seal bangs a kipper on the table! I went upstairs to complain, and the door was answered by this elephant in a crash helmet! Standing behind him is this seal going

[pantomimes hitting a table with an object, the other hand on his hip]

Mr. Balowski:
"WHAT IS IT NOW, RALPH?"

Rick:
Guys! Guys! Look at us! Squabbling, bickering, like children! What's happening to us? We never used to be like this!

Vyvyan:
Yes we did.

Mike:
Yeah, he's right, Rick. We've always been like this.

Rick:
Well, Vyvyan, you never told us your mother was a bartender.

Vyvyan:
Well, she was a shoplifter when I knew her.

Neil:
She doesn't look strong enough.

Vyvyan:
Eh?

Neil:
To lift shops.

Vyvyan:
Neil, is it really necessary to nail the plates to the table? What happens when we want to play Monopoly? Go directly to plate? Do not pass plate nailed to the table by a stupid hippie?

Mr. Balowski:
[singing] Whenever people bother me, when they shout and raise their voices, I don't let it get me down, I just make some stupid noises!

Neil:
[Reading his letter to the bank manager] Darling fascist bully-boy... Give me some more money... You bastard... May the seed of your loins be fruitful in the belly of your woman... Neil.

[interlude between scenes]

Alexei Sayle:
'Scuse me, is this the cheese shop?

Bartender:
No sir.

Alexei Sayle:
Well that's that sketch knackered then, isn't it?

[cuts back to main program]

Neil:
Guys, guys, guys, I think I've solved our money problem. I'm writing to my bank manager. See what you think..."Dear Bank Manager."

Mike:
Yeah?

Neil:
Well, that's it. I'm quite pleased with it so far, though.

Mike:
Oh, well, it's a strong opening, certainly.

Vyvyan:
I don't like the "dear." Sounds a bit too much like, "Will you go to bed with me?"

Mike:
Well spoken, Vyvyan. What do you think instead?

Vyvyan:
Uh, what about..."darling?

[everyone concurs]

Neil:
[writing] "Darling Bank Manager..."

Rick:
No, no, no, no, no, not "Bank Manager," it's far too crawly bum-lick. Tell it like it is, put "Fascist Bullyboy!"

Neil:
"Darling Fascist Bullyboy..."

Mike:
That's nice, yes, so far so good. So what do you want to say?

Neil:
Well, basically, I want to ask him if I can have, like, an extension on my overdraft, but I know there must be a better way of putting it than that.

Mike:
Well, what about, "Give me some more money"?

Vyvyan:
..."You bastard!"

Neil:
Don't you think that's a bit strong?

Mike:
Ah, Neil, people like that respect strength.

Neil:
Yeah, you're right. Uh, "Darling Fascist Bullyboy, Give me some more money, you bastard..." Uh..."Love, Neil."

Vyvyan:
Not "Love, Neil"! That sounds far too much like, "Come and get it like a b*tch-funky sex machine!"

Neil:
Yeah, you're right... Uh, what about, "Yours sincerely"?

Rick:
Oh, come off it, Neil. If you're going to be that sycophantic, why don't you go 'round there now and stick your tongue straight down the back of his trousers?

Neil:
Oh, look, I know, I know, why not "Boom Shanka"? It means, "May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman."

Mike:
He'll never understand "Boom Shanka," you'll have to write the whole thing out.

Neil:
Right, okay, here we go. "Darling Fascist Bullyboy, Give me some more money, you bastard. May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman, Neil."

Rick:
Well, if that doesn't work, I don't know what will.

Man On TV:
Let's assume for one moment... that this table is a crowded shopping street on a Saturday afternoon. And this... meringue, filled with whipped cream, is a young mother weighed down with groceries. And this... juicy, over-ripe tomato is a tiny little girl, who doesn't know what a dangerous place her exciting new world is. And let's assume that this... clingfilm parcel, of mashed banana and jam, is a deaf senior citizen, who is in a wheelchair, and is blind. And this... cricket bat, with a freeze-block nailed to it, is your car. Now what happens when your car mounts the pavement?

[annihilates the meringue, tomato and parcel of banana and jam with the cricket bat]

Man On TV:
Think once. Think twice. Think DON'T DRIVE YOUR CAR ON THE PAVEMENT.

[interlude between scenes]

Bloke:
I've just been round to my neighbours, to borrow a drill - but he wasn't in!

[laughs grotesquely]

Bloke:
...So I broke in and ate his fish tank - but I weren't even hungry!

[laughs again]

Bloke:
...You won't catch me with me trousers!

[laughs even harder]

Neil:
[Neil is a policeman] Open up, it's the pigs!

Rick:
And what makes you think your bank manager's a man?

Neil:
Uh... his beard.

Rick:
Didn't your mother ever tell you about the birds and the bees?

Neil:
Mine did, but I didn't believe her. Well, I mean, what if the bird got stung, like halfway through? Well, I mean there's a big size difference. Ostriches are really big, right...

Rick:
Vyvyan's baby will be a pauper. Oliver Twist! Jeffrey Dickens! Back to Victorian values! I hope you're satisfied, Thatcher!

Police Chief:
It's been a terrible blow to my life looking like Mussolini, you know. Especially when I was a kid, you know, I was about seven, right, and I was down the Youth Club, you know, dancing away, right, like in the 'sixties, doing the Twist you know. And, em, there was this girl, right, and she comes up to me, and she goes,"'Ere! Are you Mussolini?" I said, "Emmm... Yeah." She says, "I thought you was dead." I says, "No, it was just me day off, you know." So she pulled me over the dance floor and butted me in the face! I said, "What's that for?" She said, "That's for the invasion of Crete!"

[Vyvyan bites into house brick and it explodes]

Vyvyan:
Some of these bricks explode! Thats good, innit!

Rick:
[reading his ode to Cliff Richard] Oh Cliff / Sometimes it must be difficult not to feel as if / You really are a cliff / when fascists keep trying to push you over it! / Are they the lemmings / Or are you, Cliff? / Or are you Cliff?

Mike:
Hey! Does this face empty knickers?

Vyvyan:
That I don't know.

Vyvyan:
I've got a leg.

Mike:
Hey, Vyvyan, that's not unusual.

Vyvyan:
[holds up a severed leg] No, this. I'm supposed to write an essay on it but... I think I'm just gonna stick it on the bonnet of my car.

Neil:
[Neil's playin guitar on the toilet, Vyv comes in, kicks a hole in the side and runs out again] Oh wet feet. Nice one Vyvyan!

Vyvyan:
[Vyvyan comes back in] I thought you were dead.

Neil:
Well that's no reason to hassle me on the toilet!

Neil:
wow... that was really pretty bad, Rick

Rick:
Bad for society when the kids start to get into it!

Mike:
Most days you come through the door. Sometimes you even open it.

Jerzy Balowski:
I'm not really foreign, you know. I just do it to appear more sophisticated. I mean, nobody'd buy Evian water if it was called Blackburn water, would they? Nobody'd wear Kicker boots if they were made in Scunthorpe! Abba? Abba, Swedish? I knew then when they were a Lancashire clog dancing trio! Arthur, Betty, Boris and Angela! Solzhenitsyn, Solzhenitsyn? A former pipe-fitter welder from Harrogate!

Neil:
[Neil has just spilled an enormous pot of lentils. He calls upstairs] Guys! There's some dinner on the floor, if you want it. If you don't, like, that could also be cool, because, I mean, I only spent all day cooking it, right, and I was the one who got it together to put the lentils on to soak last night, but maybe we should just get a cat, right, and give it to the cat, 'cause it's not as if none of you can be bother- [peers upstairs] - guys?

Neil:
[Neil has decided to kill himself] I'll see you on the Other Side, okay lads? This is really it. I'm going, okay?

Mike:
Yeah, yeah. See ya, Neil.

Vyvyan:
Yeah. Bye, Neil.

Neil:
[to Mike] And, um, you can forget about the bread, okay man?

Mike:
Hey, listen: it's just like going to sleep.

Neil:
But I'm an insomniac, Mike.

Mike:
So what are you worried about?

Neil:
[Neil steps out the door and finds Rick tied to a cross] Hey Rick, man! What're you doing with my crucifix, man?

Rick:
Protesting!

Neil:
Yeah, but I really think I should lay this one on you, man: that's a really negative way to kill yourself, you know, like, I've tried it hundreds of times. There's no way you can hammer in the last nail.

Neil:
I'm being hassled in the street by a chick! Don't make me paranoid, man!

Mike:
Grrr! I'd like to find your duck down stuck to the soap!

Rick:
Oh, God, I'm bored. Might as well be listening to Genesis.

[the house is flooded]

Neil:
Hey, wouldn't it be terrible if we ended up having to eat each other? Like those sailors did in that film, um..."We Ended Up Having To Eat Each Other."

[Vyvyan talking about his potion]

Vyvyan:
The person who drinks it will become an axe-wielding homicidal maniac, it's a cure really... for not being an axe-wielding homicidal maniac.

Rick:
[pacing around the room] Meringue... Boomerang... Long, blue, boomerang...

Vyvyan:
Oh, shut up.

Rick:
I'm trying to free form.

Vyvyan:
I'm trying to read.

Rick:
OH, REALLY! I learned how to do that years ago. And what is it your reading Vyvian? A bit of Petrarchian verse, is it? A little bit of French drama?

Vyvyan:
It's called "SS Death Camp Criminal Battalion go to Monte Casino for the Massacre".

Rick:
[snatching comic] That's MY bloody comic.

Vyvyan:
Give it back.

Rick:
No, Vyvyan. It's mine.

[sits down and reads]

Rick:
Anyway, there's no point in reading comics, they're stupid. They treat the kids as if they we're... well, you know, kids. Nothing but war in them. War, war bloody war. Why can't they have stories about love and peace?

Vyvyan:
Because it's sissy, you girly.

Rick:
I'm not being girly, Vyvyian. Longing for a peaceful world is not being girly.

Vyvyan:
It is - It's being soppy and very very girly.

Rick:
I AM NOT BEING G - Look, this entire discussion is completely sexist anyway and I don't intend to continue it.

[puts head down to read comic]

Rick:
but

[looks up again]

Rick:
for your information, it is not soppy of me to long for a world where a man will love his brother.

Vyvyan:
Poof.

Rick:
You're dilibratelly trying to provoke me aren't you?

Vyvyan:
Yeah.

Rick:
For one man to love another, Vyvyan, is not poofy. It's actually very beautiful. It's only when they start touching each others bottoms that it gets poofy.

[Vyvyan is making a cardboard submarine]

Rick:
That's just typical of you Vyvyan. The house is under fifty feet of water and what do you do? Build a submarine.

[pauses]

Rick:
There's um... no room for me in there, is there?

Vyvyan:
No.

Rick:
All I'm saying is that this comic is reactionary militarist pamphlet, all they ever do is fight all the time!

Vyvyan:
And what's so wrong with that? I suppose you think we should all go around touching each others bottoms. "Dan Dare touches The Mekons bottom". Exciting new story: "Batman gooses The Jokers crack"!

DJ:
And exactly how long have you been in the music biz?

Girl on Radio:
Since lunchtime. I was working in a well known laundrette in the King's Road this morning.

Jerzy Balowski:
Well, we're halfway through the show and it's time for a half time report. I think the show has been going particularly well. I particularly like how the young lad, Rick, has been going off the joke into the dead laugh area. Going into the international sphere, they're going to have to face some stiff competition especially from the Swedes with their comedy series "Ooh, Where's My Volvo?" and also, of course, from the French with their comedy series, "Mr. Poo Poo Goes to the Lavatory". Anyway, the half time's over now and it's back to the action.

Rick:
I know, let's put Neil's speaker in front of the door!

Neil:
Oh, not that speaker! Jimi Hendrix once pissed on that!

Neil:
It was getting really hot. Then I thought oh no, I should have put out that sociology file that was burning on Rick's bed.

Vyvyan:
Yeah, I did that. Trying to make Rick think I was hiding in his bedroom.

Neil:
What? You set fire to Rick's bedroom? I think that's a really selfish thing to do Vyvyan. I was hiding in there - you could have given me away!

Vyvyan:
I've made a potion that turns you into an axe-wielding homicidal maniac.

Vyvyan:
It's a cure, really. For not being an axe-wielding homicidal maniac.

Rick:
[reading a comic book] Nothing but war in here! War! War! Bloody war! Why can't they have stories about love and peace?

Vyvyan:
Because it's sissy, you girlie.

Rick:
You're deliberately trying to provoke me, aren't you?

Vyvyan:
Yeah!

Vyvyan:
It's a potion I've invented where, when the patient drinks it, he turns in an axe-wielding homicidal maniac! It's basically a cure - for not being an axe-wielding homicidal maniac. The potential market's enormous!

Dr. Jim Morrison:
Wow, what is this? Tobacco or... Pink Floyd?

Rick:
That's just typical. Five minutes before the most important party of my life and the house is destroyed by a giant sandwich.

Anarchist:
Next week, right, I'm going to blow up a panda in Croydon.

Rick:
Yeah, right on! Bloody zoos, who needs 'em.

Anarchist:
I mean a police car, you terminal wally!

Rick:
[trying to host a party] That's my flatmate Vyvyan. Hi, Vyvyan, what are you doing?

Vyvyan:
Shut up, you girl!

Rick:
[laughs] He's incredible! I'm not a girl at all! Mind you, we're all pretty potty in this house. Last night, right, we were all watching the television and it was a program we wanted to watch, you know, and, uh, we were just watching it and right in the middle of it, I got up and turned it off! Mad! I don't care what I do, you know. Unless it's work or anything like that, you know. Last Wednesday we stayed up 'til one o'clock in the morning!

Mr. Balowski:
There's no chance of using your toilet, is there?

Mike:
No.

Mr. Balowski:
I thought not, that's why I pissed in your garden.

Religious Woman:
[to Neil] Have you said yes, hippy?

Fisher:
Next Tuesday, right, I'm going to blow up a panda in Croydon.

Rick:
Yeah, right on. Bloody zoos, who needs them?

Neil:
I won't say anything 'cause no one ever listens to me, anyway. I might as well be a Leonard Cohen album.

Vyvyan:
[Vyvyan wheels in a vacuum cleaner with a car engine attached] I thought the vacuum cleaner looked a bit on the tentative side, so I souped it up a bit.

Mike:
That's very good, Vyvyan. Although it could be very bad...

Famine:
Oh, I'm famished...

Pestilence:
So what's new?

War:
Microchip technology.

Rick:
Well that's just typical! Five minutes to go until the most important party of my life, and half the house has been wrecked by a giant sandwich!

Mrs. Smiley:
Do you dig graves?

Neil:
Yeah, they're alright, yeah.

Vyvyan:
I still don't see why we had to dig the grave... and carry the coffin, and... and everything else.

Neil:
Well we're actually the ones who're responsible for his being in this position in the first place.

Vyvyan:
Liberal.

Rick:
Well you should've heard me and the undertakers Michael.

[laughs]

Rick:
We made up all these fabulous jokes about the undertaker coming 'round to measure my "stiffie."

Neil:
Well, I thought we oughta have some sort of, like, floral tribute, but all I could find was this carrot; so I borrowed Rick's Biro...

Rick:
You rented it, Neil, you rented it, and you still haven't paid.

Neil:
Yeah, yeah. And I wrote something; "Sorry about everything being a bit of a bummer, you know, what with you dying and all. Still, things could've been worse; You could've been me, and ended-up having a really bad time all the time", signed, "Neil".

Mike:
That's very touching, Neil.

Rick:
Oh yes Vyvyan, when the mountain won't come to Mohammed, smash the drawing room to pieces. That's very Buddhist, isn't it?

Vyvyan:
It's a video nasty!

Rick:
It's a carpet farty!

Special Patrol Group:
Ohhh, have we got a video?

Vyvyan:
[exasperated, shouting] Yes! We've got a video!

Rick:
Neil, the bathroom's free. Unlike the country under the Thatcherite junta.

Vyvyan:
What we need is a large consignment of very hard drugs.

Drunk Vicar:
Ashes to ashes...

Rick:
[singing] Funk to funky, we know Major Tom's a junkie... [the vicar head butts Rick into the grave]

Rick:
Vyvyan! You utter bastard! Why aren't you in your bed?

Vyvyan:
Because I'm not going to bed tonight.

Rick:
What do you mean you're not going to bed tonight? How dare you not go to bed tonight! I go to all the trouble to board you up in your bedroom, and you don't even have the common decency to be in there!

Rick:
Oh no, the front door's exploded!

Mike:
Vyvyan!

Rick:
Vyvyan!

Vyvyan:
Vyvyan, Vyvyan, Vyvyan! Honestly, whenever anything explodes in this house it's always blame Vyvyan!

Harry the Bastard:
[the actors go out of character and use their normal voices] It's rubbish, this, isn't it, eh? You know what I mean? I mean, all the way from the Transvaal by second class post to end up in a filthy, dirty, horrible toilet in a television studio! I mean, people think that telly's great, you know, they tell me all the time that it must be great, but it's not. It's dead boring. And that lot, I mean, they're all dull as well, and they all talk about me behind me back!

Vyvyan:
I hate him.

Neil:
He drinks like a fish.

Rick:
Yes, he's got no talent.

Mike:
Alexei who?

Harry the Bastard:
But you see, the worst thing about television is, you see, I'm a Marxist comedian, you know, but em, since I've been doing television, a lot of me Marxist friends have accused me of selling out, you know. Like they make me march at the back on demos. They're all selling the Socialist Worker, and I've got to sell the TV Times. So I'd just like to take this opportunity, on national television, to assure you all, comrades, that honest to God, I have NOT sold out! Anyway round about now, I usually have a Pot Noodle! It's tasty. Ummm! Doesn't that look good! It's a tasty delicious little snack! Ummmm! Let's try some, shall we? Doesn't that look absolutely yumscious! Ohhhh! Let's try some, shall we?

Woman Pushing Corpse:
Do you dig graves?

Neil:
Yeah, yeah, they're all right, yeah.

Vyvyan:
[Repeated quote] Yes, we've got a video!

Neil:
And then we'll be dead and yet still alive! Just like Leonard Cohen!

Rick:
Im not sharing a bedroom with THAT rubber johnny! Allright Neil, Shut up. Before you say anything I just tossed a coin for who gets the bed and you lost. It's completely fair and if you don't believe me, ask Mike

Neil:
[Despondently] Oh, uh. Okay Rick [Audience "Awws]

Rick:
What?

Neil:
What?

Rick:
What did you just say?

Neil:
Huh?

Rick:
You just called me a Bastard didn't you!

[Vyvyan hits Rick in the crotch with a cricket bat because he interrupted Mike]

Rick:
Ha, ha, jokes on you, missed both my legs.

Vyvyan:
[Rick and Vyvyan are arguing over who gets which room in their new house] This is my room!

Rick:
No, it's my room!

Vyvyan:
[Dumps a bin liner full of his clothes on the bed] No! See? It must be my room, cause all my clothes are here!

Rick:
[after picking the clothes up and throwing them up out the window] No they're not, Vyvyan!

[Vyvyan strikes a match and lights the bed on fire]

Rick:
Oh, that's just perfect, now what are we going to do?

Vyvyan, Rick:
[Rushing out of the room] Neil! Your bedroom's on fire!

Neil:
[Coming out of a room] Huh? Which one's mine?

[Sees flaming bed]

Neil:
Oh no!

Vyvyan:
Neil! Are you gonna come down and make breakfast or am I have to going to kick your teeth in?

Neil:
Hello Kitchen! Hello! My name's Neil but don't bother remembering it 'cause I'll probably be dead anyway.

[Two dishevelled, unshaved men are lying on a raft in the middle of the ocean]

Man #1:
What was that?

Man #2:
What?

Man #1:
...Nothing. My mind's beginning to play tricks on me. I thought we were lying on a raft just now.

Man #2:
You should take it easy, you know. You must be working too hard. [They're actually lying on a mattress in a dingy cellar lit by a bare bulb] Bloody hot, isn't it?

Man #1:
It is.

Man #2:
I should get a lower wattage bulb.

Man #1:
Help! We're sinking! We're sinking!

Man #2:
Relax. We're not sinking, we're not sinking. I'll get some fresh air in here. [He opens the door, revealing endless ocean, and breathes deeply] Ah, that's better. [He closes the door, then pauses] Uh...

Man #1:
What's the matter?

Man #2:
Nothing! Nothing. Can you swim at all?

Man #1:
What?

Man #2:
I was just wondering.

Man #1:
Wondering?

Man #2:
Yes, I was wondering if you might swim to the chemist and get me something for my hallucinations.

Man #1:
Have you had one too?

Man #2:
Either that, or the whole town is flooded.

Man #1:
You're right. We've been working too hard. I haven't had a holiday for over a year now.

Man #2:
What about this?

Man #1:
What? This? A holiday? Two weeks in a cellar under a light bulb?

Man #2:
It was all I could get.

Mike:
It's nice to have a front door.

Vyvyan:
We had a front door in the last house.

Rick:
Yes, Vyvyan, but it was nailed to the ceiling in the living room!

Rick:
Why did you throw the toilet out of the window?

Vyvyan Basterd:
To lower the rent.

Rick:
Of course, stupid old me. Just one other thing, what are you talking about?

Vyvyan Basterd:
Now we can go to the rent tribunal, you don't have to pay as much for a house with an outside lavvy.

Rick:
Really... Well I don't believe you, I think you did it on purpose because you know I've got a runny bottom!

Vyvyan Basterd:
Look, is Neil going to make the supper or not?

Rick:
I think you'd better ask him that have you, I'm a bit more interested in my bottom at the moment!

Vyvyan:
I was in the basement, playing my favorite game, 'Murder In The Dark.'

Vyvyan Basterd:
This is revolting.

Rick:
You know, it is amazing what you can come up with with just flour and water.

Vyvyan Basterd:
Yeah. Glue.

Rick:
What is that little white dot?

Neil Pye:
It's a little white dot.

Rick:
Oh very clever.

Neil Pye:
Must be really old telly.

Rick:
What, hippie?

Neil Pye:
It's a sign, that little white dot. It means something really heavy. It means there's no more telly, it's time to go to bed.

Neil:
I thought we all agreed that if we went to the laundrette we would take everyone's dirty gear? Let's look in the People's Charter. Right, here it is. No one, right, even if they've been eaten by wild dogs, right, will go to the launderette without first collecting everyone else's dirty gear.

Vyvyan:
That's my clause!

Mike:
Right, now clause 83?

Neil:
Oh... except for Mike.

Alexei Balowski:
My name is Alexei Yuri Gagarin Siege of Stalingrad Glorious Five Year Plan Sputnik Tractor Moscow Dynamo Back Four Balowski. Me Dad was a bit of a Communist, know what I mean?

Vyvyan:
Alright, Neil, I'm gonna give you three seconds to make supper... starting NOW!

Neil:
Three seconds? [Starts trying to make supper]

Vyvyan:
[Moves towards the dinner table once] One. [Moves towards the dinner table a second time] TWO!

Neil:
[Gotten a couple pans] What do you fancy, Vyv?

Vyvyan:
THREE! Where's my supper?

Mike:
It's nice to have a front door.

Vyvyan:
We had a front door at the LAST house.

Rick:
Yes, Vyvyan, but it was nailed to the ceiling. In the living room.

Mike:
I used to be a cat burglar, y'know.

Neil:
Oh, did you really? I didn't know that.

Mike:
Oh yeah, yeah; I've got a Swiss bank account with 2,000 bloody cats in it.

Vyvyan:
[Vyvyan shouts upstairs] Neil! NEIL! Let's not beat about the bush! Are you gonna make supper, or am I gonna kick your teeth in?

Mike:
Well, all right, all right! I won't stand on convention; he never stood on me.

Neil:
Do you think that you could get something while you're there to clean the toilet with?

Rick, Vyvyan:
What?

Mike:
I don't think I can, Neil.

Vyvyan:
You can't clean the toilet, Neil. It'll lose all its character.

Rick:
We NEVER clean the toilet, Neil. That's what being a student is all about. No way, Harpic. No way, Dot. All that Blue Loo scene is for squares. One thing's for sure, Neil. When Cliff Richard wrote "Wired for Sound", no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory. He was living on the limit, just like me. Where the only place to put bleach is in your hair.

Vyvyan:
Living on Limits? What, are you on a diet?

Rick:
No, I live on The Limit, Vyvyan. The Limit. Because I'm a Rider at the Gates of Dawn and I take no prisoners.

Vyvyan:
[all the guys in the house are sick - Vyvyan picks up a small mirror and stares into it] Feel better you bastard!

Mrs Vyvyan:
I heard you were ill so I brought you a present.

Vyvyan:
The last present you got me was a box of matches.

Mrs Vyvyan:
That was a joke.

Vyvyan:
I was only 8-weeks-old.

Vyvyan:
OK Neil, you might feel a bit of a prick.

Neil:
Ohhh. What else is new?

Manure Salesman(Mick):
Hello.

Manure Salesman(Tezz):
Hello.

Rick:
Hello!

Manure Salesman(Mick):
I'm Mick. This is Tezz.

Manure Salesman(Tezz):
Alright.

Manure Salesman(Mick):
We would've brought Harry, but... we don't know anyone called Harry.

Manure Salesman(Mick):
We've come about the muck.

Rick:
Muck?

Manure Salesman(Mick):
You know manure.

Rick:
Yes.

Manure Salesman(Mick):
We've been told to drop a load in your garden.

Rick:
Now listen. Listen. Absolutely nobody, I don't care who they are, is doing a two ton poo outside my front door.

Manure Salesman(Tezz):
Suit yourself. Just though you might need it to cover up that dead hippie you just murdered.

[Rik and Vyvyan are arguing in the garden]

Rick:
Sticks and stones, Vyvyan, will break my bones!

Vyvyan:
[picking up a large piece of wood] That's the first sensible thing you've said today!

[breaks the piece of wood on Rik's head]

Neil:
I hope Mike hurries back with the cure!

Vyvyan:
No Neil, Neil, it's madness this week.

Rick:
[something explodes] All right, who's responsible?

Mike:
Well, I think I'm quite responsible, actually.

[the title sequence for "_"The Good Life" (1975)_ (qv)" appears, and Vyvyan tears it to shreds]

Vyvyan:
No! No! NO! NO! We're not watching the bloody Good Life! Bloody bloody bloody! I hate it! It's so bloody nice! Felicity "Treacle" Kendall and Richard "Sugar-Flavored-Snot" Briars! What do they do now? Chocolate bloody button ads, that's what! They're nothing but a couple of reactionary stereotypes, confirming the myth that everyone in Britain is a lovable, middle-class eccentric - and I - HATE - THEM!

[collapses on the couch, exhuasted]

Mike:
That was a highly articulate outburst, Vyvyan. I only hope they're not watching.

Neil:
[another Neil has appeared] Hello?

Neil 2:
Hello?

Neil:
Wow. Anybody watching must've thought this was a negative reality inversion.

Kissing Woman:
[couple kissing in bushes nearby suddenly break off and look over] Cor, that looked just like a negative reality inversion, didn't it?

Kissing Man:
Yes, it did a bit.

Rick:
You're probably not even sick anyway, you're just trying to get attention.

Neil:
Oh yeah? Then how come I'm all hot and sweaty then?

Rick:
Well I think most of us would rather not know that!

Vyvyan:
Will you two shut up? I'm trying to be ill!

Neil:
Vyvyan, will you shut up? You're giving me tunnel vision!

Rick:
STOP SHOUTING, NEIL!

Neil:
Stop shouting, yourself!

Rick:
I AM NOT - SHOUTING!

Neil:
Yes you are!

Rick:
I BLOODY WELL AM NOT! If you want to hear shouting, matey, this is it. [screams like a baby]

Vyvyan:
[lighting a Molotov cocktail] You know, it's funny, but being ill makes me lose my ususal tolerant, and easy going approach to communal living. [tosses the cocktail between Rick and Neil's rooms]

Vyvyan:
You can't clean the toilet, Neil - it'll lose all its character!

Neil:
Vyvyan, would you shut up, you're giving me tunnel vision!

Rick:
[At the top of his lungs] STOP SHOUTING NEIL!

Neil:
Stop shouting yourself!

Rick:
I AM NOT SHOUTING!

Neil:
Yes, you are!

Rick:
I BLOODY WELL AM NOT! If you want to hear shouting matey, this is it! [Starts screaming like a baby]

Vyvyan:
[Calmly while assembling a Molotov cocktail] It's funny, but being ill makes me loose my usual tolerance and easy going approach to communal living. [throw Molotov cocktail at Rick and Neil, which explodes]

Rick:
What's the difference? There'll be plenty of chicks for these tigers on the road to the promised land. This is it. It's really happening. Who needs qualifications? Who cares about Thatcher and unemployment? We can do just exactly whatever we want to do. And you know why? Because we're Young Ones. Bachelor boys. Crazy, mad, wild-eyed, big-bottomed anarchists.

Vyvyan:
Do you think ants go to discos?

Mike:
Vyvyan, it is proved that ants are highly intelligent, with a well-ordered society. The last thing they'd go to would be discos.

Mike:
Neil, it's very rare that you interest me but today you have. Why do you keep coming down here with a cake and saying surprise?

Neil:
It's my birthday.

Mike:
Now you knew that anyway and we don't care, so where's the surprise?

Neil:
Well, I baked a cake.

Mike:
A cake. Can a cake dance? Can a cake get you drunk? Will a cake let you put your hand up it's jumper?

Vyvyan:
You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch you out, Michael!

Mike:
You'd have to stay up all night.

Mike:
Rick, Your parents died this morning.

Rick:
My parents are dead? I can't believe it.

Neil:
And you think that's bad?

Rick:
Well yes I do actually what's it to you piss face?

Rick:
[Just before the bus smashes into a Cliff Richard sign and goes flying off a cliff] Look out! CLIFF!

Mike:
What is ugly, smelly, boring and is standing in front of me called Neil?

Neil:
You all really hate me, don't you?

Rick:
Your tutor asked me to tell you that if you don't show up again next year that he and the dean might have to seriously reconsider your grant.

Mike:
Well, you can tell my tutor that I've still got the photographs of him and the dean. I think I'll ask for one of those Ph.D.s next year.

Neil:
It was horrible. I sat in the big hall and put my pocket of Polos on the desk. And my spare pencil and my support gonk. And my chewing gum and my extra pen. And my extra Polos and my lucky gonk. And my pencil sharpener shaped like a cream cracker. And more gonks with a packet of Polos in each. And lead for my retractable pencil. And my retractable pencil. And spare lead for my retractable pencil. And chewing gum and pencils and pens and more gonks, and the guy says "Stop writing, please".

Vyvyan:
Even mindless violence seems boring today.

Vyvyan:
Look, here comes the postman.

Mike:
Vyvyan, why do you keep telling us what's just about to happen next?

Vyvyan:
Because it's a studio set, Michael, and they can't afford any long shots.

Mike:
Neil, it is very rare you interest me, but today you have. Why do you keep coming in here, carrying a cake, and saying surprise?

Neil:
It's my birthday.

Mike:
Now you knew that anyway, and we don't care, so where's the surprise?

Neil:
Oh yeah, that's a good idea isn't it? Yeah - let's all bring Neil down. That'll relieve the boredom.

Vyvyan:
Will it? OK - er, shut up Neil you ugly poo-faced git!

Vyvyan:
Well, what about Babycham? One glass of that and I'm anybody's!

Rick:
Then it's a bit of a pity that absolutely nobody wants you then, isn't it?

Vyvyan:
Rick, shut up, or I'll tell everybody in this room that you've got an iron-on cartoon worm on the front of your Y-fronts that says 'Girl-bait'!

Rick:
[Uncomfortably] Oh, so you've been going through my Y-fronts, have you Vyvyan? I suppose you *fancy* me, is that it?

Vyvyan:
[Acting] Yes! As a matter of fact, I do Rick! I really, really fancy you, and I want to give you a big girly kiss on the bottom!

Rick:
[Creeped out] Ugh! Ugh, Mike, Mike, Vyvyan's gone all funny! Ugh! Ugh, he says he wants to kiss my bottom!

Vyvyan:
Oh! Did I say 'kiss you on the bottom'? Oh, beg my pardon. I meant to say: 'Stick a pick-axe through your spinal column!'

Neil:
How many people does it take to screw in a light bulb? One, me, 'cause I'm the only one that does anything around here anyway.

Neil:
You mean, you, like, scored with a chick?

Rick:
Well, of course, I wouldn't put it in such sexist terms, Neil, but yes.

Mike:
Now, wait a minute, Rick. I'm the one who gets the girls around here. There could be a copyright problem.

Vyvyan:
I don't understand. How? Was she unconscious?

Rick:
What, Vyvyan? Do I detect a little spark of jealousy?

Vyvyan:
Ha! I'm not jealous. I find the idea of spending a night with you completely revolting!

Rick:
You know perfectly well what I mean. Just because I was the most wanted and attractive guy at the party last night...

Neil:
What do you mean, Rick? You passed out after half a glass of cider.

Rick:
Did I? Blimey, that's a bit anarchic! Anyway, it just goes to show you, Neil. Even when I'm unconscious, I can pick up the birds. Erm, I mean, forge meaningful relationships with birds... chicks... tarts... women. Women!

Neil:
I'll die if I miss Scooby-Doo.

Rick:
One things for sure, when Cliff Richard wrote 'wired for sound' no way was he sitting on a clean lavatory.

Mike:
Neil, have you upset the neighbors?

Neil:
No, I've blown them up.

Jester Balowski:
Excuse me, is this a cheese shop?

Salesman:
No, sir.

Jester Balowski:
Well that sketch's knackered then, innit?

Helen Mucus:
How clumsy of me. It seems like I've done it again. What can I say?

Mike:
How about, "Oh Mike, please put your hand up my skirt".

Mike:
Rick, I don't wish to suggest your jokes are predictable, but there are as-of-yet undiscovered tribes in the heart of the Peruvian jungle who knew you were going to say that.

Knight of the Square Table:
I'm a knight of the Square Table.

Mike:
Square Table?

Knight of the Square Table:
Well, you see, King Arthur didn't consider me cool and hip enough to be on the Round Table on account of some of my suits of armor have still got flares.

Mike:
Well, you can't get sqaurer than that.

Neil:
Shut up, Mike! Nothing wrong with flares.

Vyvyan:
No, I just don't understand - how? Was she unconscious?

Rick:
What Vyvyan - do I detect a little spark of jealousy?

Vyvyan:
Ha! I'm not jealous! I find the idea of spending a night with you completely revolting!

Vyvyan:
I must be hallucinating. What's a good thing for a hangover?

Mike:
Drinking heavily the night before.

Have we got a video?

Why ? , what are you ? A Spazy