Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 2

Barry:
Incredible this place, innit? It's like Bermondsey transported to the Costa del Sol.

Oz:
I was standin' at the bar there before getting the bevvies. A bloke comes up, says, "tooled up on yer last job, were ya, Geordie?" "Oh, aye, I had two trowels, a spirit level..." [Laughs, but notices Barry doesn't] He never laughed at it, neither.

Barry:
Desperate people.

Oz:
You can say that again. [Points out a group of women.] Look at these here. You can just tell by lookin' at them that they've spent the best part of their married life behind an ironing board in some poxy tower block, yer kna, husband in an' oot the nick all the time, but just manages to keep everything together with the promise of one big last job, and then it'll be off skiing, the sunshine, champagne. Yer kna, all that. And then it comes off, they gets here, and what do they dae? Recreate all the squalor they wanted to piss off from in the first place!

Barry:
[Shakes his head] What a futile existence, eh? No need to work, but no real way of enjoying themselves, except from getting pissed and maudlin about London.

Oz:
Fish oot of water, man, isnit?

Barry:
I wonder what their kids do for schooling.

Oz:
[Scoffs] God knas.

Barry:
Perhaps their dads teach them. [They laugh.]

Oz:
Oh, you can just imagine that, can't you? "All right, now, son, here's the question: If yer daddy and yer Uncle Terry and yer Uncle Arthur stick up an armoured car for half a million quid in the Mile End Road, how much does that leave them with each? And you can use yer fingers." [Chuckles]