Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 1

Bomber:
Oh, I'm sure he'll be all right.

Wayne:
Yeah, strong as an ox, ain't he?

Barry:
Yeah, I mean if anything was really bad, we'd have heard about it already, wouldn't we?

Moxey:
Yeah, I know, but y'know, all the same, though, it just seems a bit inc-c-congruous, like, y'know, Oz bein' in hospital all beaten up.

Bomber:
[Noticing Neville entering the bar] Oh, aye, Nev's back.

Wayne:
'Ey up, what's the word, then, Nev?

Neville:
Couldn't do anythin'. [The lads look down sorrowfully]

Wayne:
Oh, poor old Oz.

Barry:
Don't believe it.

Neville:
Er, no, for me tattoo, not for Oz! No, Oz is fine. [The lads breathe a sigh of relief] Very comfortable, out of danger.

Wayne:
'Ey, leave it out, Nev! You had us all goin' then for a minute!

Barry:
Yeah, right, Wayne, and who wants to hear about your poxy naffin' tattoo, Neville?

Neville:
I'm sorry! I'm just a bit preoccupied.

Moxey:
Yeah, well, y'know, what's happened, like?

Neville:
Well, this lady doctor said I should stop bein' so pathetic an' just tell Brenda straight. Said if our relationship was sound she'd understand.

Wayne:
Neville, Neville, how about if we pulled your arm off, son? Would that solve the problem, eh? How's Oz, for Christ's sake?

Neville:
Well, it seemed he'd followed Den down to the Bierkeller, kinda guardin' him, like. Anyway, there was a bit of aggro, an' he got his arm slashed wi' a glass. [To the barman] Aye, give us a beer, please. [To the lads] Funny thing was Dennis said it was his fault, not Oz's. That he started the ruck.

Bomber:
But Dennis would say that, wouldn't he?

Dennis:
[Standing in the doorway] It's true, Bomber. [The lads turn round and see Dennis, still in his blood-soaked shirt] Because of me, Oz was nearly killed. Look, er... I've... I've acted like... like a right prick, yer know, over the past few days, and er, wallowin' in me own problems and shuttin' all you lads out an' that, an' er... well, I'll apologise to Oz when he's feelin' better, like, but in the meantime I've got a lot of apologies to make. You lads'll do for a start, like. I'm sorry. [Turns to leave]

Bomber:
Come on, you bad tempered old bastard, buy us all a drink! [Forgiven, Dennis joins the lads at the bar]

Neville:
Aye, come on, Dennis.

Barry:
Triple schnapps time! [To the barman, pointing at Dennis] Triple schnapps, please, on him.