Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 2

Neville:
[Fanning himself with his hat] I envy Den, me. At this moment, he'll be sittin' in an English pub, murderin' an English pint.

Moxey:
You're a strange bloke, you are, Nev. Ever since I've known you, you've always wanted to be someplace else. There's people down here paid a fortune to enjoy this hot Spanish sunshine.

Bomber:
Yeah, well he'd rather be drinking warm ale in some manky pub in Gateshead.

Moxey:
Yeah, but if he was there, then he'd wish he was here.

Wayne:
[Still smarting from being carried off by Bomber while in mid-conversation with Vicky the previous night] I reckon that Bomber's on Ally's payroll. Acting like my naffing chaperone. I was on with that Vicky last night, I'm sure I was.

Oz:
Look, obviously the lass has problems, reet? Obviously, she's vulnerable that this point in time. Even to your transparent overtures. But it's not gonna do us much good, is it? An' it's not gonna do the lass much good if ye leap on her bones!

Wayne:
Oh, I see. So you've joined the moral majority, have you?

Oz:
What is it with you, eh? I mean, yer nuts aren't gonna gan rusty down here, are they? I mean you've got Spanish boilers, French tarts, German tarts, Swedish tarts, Danish tarts, British tarts... I mean, from Málaga to Gibraltar, it's wall-to-wall totty. So why Vicky, eh? Is it the danger? Does the thought of gettin' yer knees shattered give yer a great big bonk on or summat?

Neville:
[Gets out of his deckchair and puts his hat on] Right, lads. Shouldn't we be gettin' back to work?

Moxey:
What's all this? Are you deputy gaffer, or what?

Neville:
No, it's just if we start a bit early, we can finish a bit early. Get a few jars in.

Moxey:
Aye, right. [Gets off the cooler he's been sat on. Bomber also gets up.]

Barry:
Oh, by the way, the drinks are on Haze tonight. She's asked me, like, to ask you, to join us for cocktails at the Hollywood Bar in the port.

Moxey:
'Ey! Well done, Barry, you cracked it! What a strike, kid!

Barry:
What are you talkin' about?

Moxey:
Barry an' Hazel invite us for cocktails. If any of you know cause, or just im-p-p-pediment ye are to declare it.

Barry:
Gerroff, Moxey.

Wayne:
Don't be coy, son. An announcement is obviously imminent.

Neville:
Yeah. Good lad, Barry. Have you got a date yet?

Barry:
Look, I'm not getting engaged! Right? It's just that Hazel won some money at the casino last night and she wants us to celebrate.

Oz:
How much?

Barry:
Oh, er... £500, thereabouts.

Bomber:
Blow me. She's an heiress! I'd shut the gate on that one if I were you!