“It's pronounced Thwaite!”

“Is that one mine?” “Yes, that's your bird.”

“Oh hello Eddie!” “Oh, bugger off!” “Hard day at the office?”

“I said brick…not penis.”

“Well, that's just ‘effing marvellous, isn't it? Half past ten in the morning, i've shat my pants, you're completely drunk, and the Queen's coming in...LORDY! LORDY! Where's my fucking watch?!” “The Queen?” “Yes, and stand up when you say that.”

“Who won?” “Dhoh, ha ha ha ha. Eddie, it matters not who won or lost but how you played the game.” “Oh, you mean I won?”

“Hello Amal, how’s the kebab business?”

“Come on Eddie, you've got to get some nutrition.” “I'm all right, mate. I've got half a bottle of Scotch here, I know who's side I'm on.”

“It’s interesting, this relationship, isn't it?” “Interesting in what way?” “Well, in that, you're the servant girl…and I'm the master. And you have to DO everything I say!”

“…and I’m a virgin!”

“How do you know these things?” “I’m death.” “Oh, sorry. HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE THINGS?”

“What do you normally do when you got to bed, Eddie?” “I normally have a bit of a kip.” “You're so concise. I mean, what's your going-to-bed routine?” “Ah, routine. Well, I normally...get into bed...and then I have a bit of a kip.”

“Slap me!” “I beg your pardon?” “Slap...me!” “Oh! I like this game...” “Arrgh, arggh...” “Hey, you've got a dart in there, did you know that? You...have got a dart...in there!” “Get it out!” “I beg your--I beg your pardon.” “Get it out!” “Kinky!” “The dart!”

“Well, cheerio then! This is the best tea in London. Mmm. Mmm, lovely. Well come on Eddie, you're not drinking yours.” “Yes, I know, I'm watching you enjoying yours.” “Well come on, do your fair share you bastard! And you!”

“Urgh! Eh, thank you very much. Lovely. Right, er, I'll just be on me way then.” “No! You can't go.” “Oh, why not?” “Because I love you.” “What?” “I love you and I can't live without you. At least, not for the next eight minutes.”

“He rattled his maracas close to me...Hi, Eddie!”

“Nail the sucker, bust his ass! Yeah, I want him doing twenty to ten in the pen! What d'you mean, no evidence? What about the goddam Jaffa Cakes, asswipe! Yeah, bullshit, bull-shit!”

“But why doesn't anyone ever want to have any sex with me?” “Well look on the bright side Richie, at least you're not going to get any sexually transmitted diseases.” “You're right there, I'd be lucky to catch flu off a girl.”

“We are…toilet inspectors.”

“British journalism, best in the world.”