Gavin & Stacey2007

[the men are in the kitchen, drinking the home-brewed beer that Smithy has brought]

Bryn:
Ooh, it's strong, isn't it?

Mick:
Yeah. You don't want too much of it. What percent is it, again?

Smithy:
Nineteen.

Bryn:
Oh yeah. Whoo! I like it. The funny thing is, it's not my usual tipple. Normally, I prefer a Cinzano. [Gavin laughs a little, Smithy laughs loudly]

Smithy:
[Mimicking Bryn's accent] Cinzano! [he laughs] I love your accent, Bryn! It's so much better than Stacey's. Say something else, go on, go on.

Bryn:
All right, uh, bear with me. I got it. [in a thick accent] I'm going down the Arms Park for half a dark! [They all laugh]

Gavin:
Now say something in Welsh. You know, in Welsh.

Bryn:
That's the thing, you see, I can't.

Smithy:
How do you mean?

Bryn:
I cannot speak the Welsh language. It's a constant source of embarrassment to me, but Welsh is not my mother tongue.

Mick:
Now, why is that, Bryn? Cos, every time I've been down there it seems none of you can speak it. I mean, you spend all that money on them signs and none of you can read 'em.