Blackadder

[Prince George believes William Pitt the Younger to be a schoolboy]

Blackadder:
Mr. Pitt is the Prime Minister, sir.

George:
[in disbelief] Oh, go on! Is he? What, young Snotty here?!

Pitt:
I'd rather have a runny nose than a runny brain.

George:
... Eh?

Blackadder:
Um, excuse me, Prime Minister, but we do have some lovely jelly in the pantry. I don't know if you'd be interested at all?

Pitt:
Don't patronise me, you lower-middle class yobbo! [quietly] What flavour is it?

Blackadder:
Blackcurrant.

Pitt:
EURGH!

George:
I say, Blackadder, are you sure this is the PM? Seems like a bit of an oily tick to me! I remember when I was at school, we used to line up four or five of his sort, tell them to bend over and use them for a toast-rack!

Pitt:
You don't surprise me, sir - I know your sort. Once, it was I who stood in the big, cold schoolroom, a hot crumpet burning my cheeks with shame. But since that day, I have been busy every hour God sends, working to become Prime Minister and to fight sloth and privilege wherever I found it!

Blackadder:
I trust you weren't too busy to remove the crumpet...!

Pitt:
You will regret this, gentlemen! You think you can thwart my plans to bankrupt the Prince by fixing the Dunny-on-the-Wold by-election... but you will be thrashed - I intend to put up my own brother as a candidate against you!

Blackadder:
[smugly] Oh, and which Pitt would this be? Pitt the Toddler? Pitt the Embryo? Pitt the Glint in the Milkman's Eye?

Pitt:
[glares at Blackadder before he starts a journey for the door] Sirs, as I said to Chancellor Metternich at the Congress of Strasburg: "Pooh to you with knobs on!" We shall meet, sirs, on the hustings! [storms out]

George:
I say, Blackadder, what a ghastly squit! He's not going to win, is he?

Blackadder:
No sir, because firstly, we shall fight this campaign on issues, not personalities. Secondly, we shall be the only fresh thing on the menu. And thirdly, of course... we'll cheat!