History Quotes / SchoolOfComedy

->'''Connie:''' Mine's the best boozer in London and anyone who says different's a total [[Series/TheAvengers Gareth Hunt]].

->'''The Cabbie:''' That [[Series/BoSelecta Vanessa Feltz]]? Nutter. That Creator/ViggoMortensen? Nutter. That Lucian Freud? Nutter. That UsefulNotes/PeterMandelson? Nutter. That ThomasEdison? Nutter. That [[Creator/MiramaxFilms Harvey Weinstein]]? Nutter. That Terry Nutkins? Nutter. I could go on. Sometimes I do.

->'''Terry:''' Great, as I was saying, I'm quite deep, I like [[JohannSebastianBach Bach]] and Tony Parsons...

->'''KARL:''' Where are we? What is this? Talk to me, Marv.
->'''MARV:''' I'm talking, Karl. I'm talking 'INTERNET'.
->'''KARL:''' Internet? What's that? Some kinda surgical implant?
->'''MARV:''' You ain't never heard of internet? What is this? 1986?

->'''LEONARD:''' Shut up.

->'''BOTA:''' Howzit?
->'''VOTA:''' Jawellnofine. Howzit?
->'''BOTA:''' Jawellnofine.

->'''PONGO:''' What ho! Now look here. The name's Pongo. Pongo Trellis-Marjoribanks-Lord - and I've no idea what this blasted web nonsense is all about because it's 1941 and it hasn't been invented yet. I suppose I should have my valet tephephelone some web Johnny and have him dash orf a couple of lines about me, my wife Margot, my chum Freddie and Margot's chum Lulu, but there's a filthy nonsense of a war on so you just can’t get the staff.

->'''PONGO:''' You DO know there's a war on, what? You see, we're all frightfully busy sticking it to Jerry and frankly, we could all be dead of a doodlebug pretty jolly soon so I say carpe whatnot and dance with whomever you like wherever you like and to hell with it if they're wearing leather trousers and [[GetTheeToANunnery smuggling a spam truncheon]]. Do you follow? No? Alright, as you were.
->'''MARGOT:''' Soon the war will end and we'll be [[DoubleMeaning gay and free]] and eat salmon sandwiches with the crusts off, wear croquet shoes indoors and drink our tea from a hairy cup.

->'''MAGDA AND KAREL:''' Hello and thank you so much that we are here in your land, take your money and use of all your resource. Back home it is so funny to our people that your people pay real money to have a man fix pipes and woman clean a sink. Ha ha. Silly Englishes, with your cream tea, rock music and collapsing social fabric.

->'''CONNIE:''' I been landlady 28 years, man and boy. My Granddad run it before the war. Stabbed some bloke for it. Then my old man stabbed him for it and then I stabbed it off him - so it's a family business... you got to have a stric' door policy. No work clothes, no vests, no dirty shoes. No slingbacks, no peeptoes and none of them slouchy boots. No ponces in suits. No women, no children, no blokes. The French are frowned upon. You can't bring your own booze. Or food.

->'''THE FILTH:''' The 70s is a rotten time to be a copper. When I’m not breathing on a grass, smacking some bird about or taking my sarge Geoff out for a razz in the Granada, I’m getting ulcers from a diet of Top Deck shandy, Chipsticks and Embassy Regals.

->'''ANGHARAD:''' I may be blind but I can see through you like a brilliant hawk through a load of cocks. And I can smell. I can smell bullshit from a thousand yards, so don’t go thinking you can pull the wool over my no eyes. I have MORE than compensated for my lack of visuals, with a whole load of other senses. Like my tremendous sense of outrage, see?

->'''LEONARD:''' I’m in finance. Buying, selling, moving, shaking. I do it on the move. From the sauna or a wine bar or Concorde. I’ve got a fax so why bother with an office? You know what a fax is, right? It’s the latest thing. I’ve got all the latest things. Digital watch, Betamax recorder, ZX Spectrum, BMX, a sex robot called Mickey...

->'''THE SAFFAS (BOTA AND VOTA):''' [HIGH FIVE]

->'''MAFIA MAMMA:''' Santa Barbara, being da godmother of an highly illegal mob is a total pain in da fat ass. Since my only remaining hetero son Alberto got shot in da sweetmeats, I gots to do everything myself. Cooking, cleaning, washing, whacking...

->'''THE CABBIE:''' I'm a bit of a part-time psychologist, me. I can read people. They get in the back of my cab, I can read 'em like a copy of Razzle. It's an art. See, I had that Cracker in the back once. Sweaty sock. Fat. Criminal psychologian. I says to Cracker: 'analyse this' and I point to my face and he says I’m a classic case of delusional paranoia with borderline schizophrenic tendencies and could I drop him outside the Angus Steak House. No problemo. 'Course he means the one up in Aberdeen so off we goes, M1, big fare, the business and I kid you not, I come out the other end a fully-qualified psychoanalysisist. Now I can spot a nutter a mile off.

->'''TERRY:''' Yeah, my name's Terry and this is my mate Phil.
->'''PHIL:''' Alright.
->'''TERRY:''' We drive around in my van. Delivering things. Don't we Phil?
->'''PHIL:''' That's correct.

->'''MR. MILLS:''' Alright, simmer down, the name's Mr Mills and yes, I will be applying for the Teacher of the Year Award. 'Why?' I hear you ask at the back. And if I hear you ask again, you'll get a thwack round the ear'ole and a wet towel flick to the goolies. [[{{Understatement}} I'm a no nonsense teacher, see.]]

->'''KARL:''' Entertainment? What kinda entertainment?
->'''MARV:''' Anything, everything and a whole loada nothing. Features, home movies, comedies, dramadies, parodies, dirty knees. But mostly porn.
->'''KARL:''' OK, now we're talking. Where do I sign?

->'''CONNIE:''' Mine's the best boozer in London and anyone who says different's a total [[Series/TheAvengers Gareth Hunt]].

->'''THE CABBIE:''' That [[Series/BoSelecta Vanessa Feltz]]? Nutter. That Creator/ViggoMortensen? Nutter. That Lucian Freud? Nutter. That PeterMandelson? Nutter. That ThomasEdison? Nutter. That [[Creator/MiramaxFilms Harvey Weinstein]]? Nutter. That Terry Nutkins? Nutter. I could go on. Sometimes I do.

->'''LEONARD:''' As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, Creator/JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{aha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]

->'''TERRY:''' Great, as I was saying, I'm quite deep, I like [[JohannSebastianBach Bach]] and Tony Parsons...

->'''LEONARD:''' As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, Creator/JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{A-ha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]

->'''LEONARD:''' As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{A-ha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]

->'''PONGO:''' You DO know there's a war on, what? You see, we're all frightfully busy sticking it to Jerry and frankly, we could all be dead of a doodlebug pretty jolly soon so I say carpe whatnot and dance with whomever you like wherever you like and to hell with it if they're wearing leather trousers and smuggling a spam truncheon. Do you follow? No? Alright, as you were.

-> '''Max:''' Go Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnn!! Ooouh!
->''[Will [[{{Corpsing}} snickers and breaks out laughing]]]''
-->-- From the ''[[BonusMaterial Extra Lessons]]'' {{blooper}}s

-->-- ''Series 1, Episode 1'' a.k.a. "This is our new show!"

-->-- ''Series 2, Episode 1'' a.k.a. "Start as you mean to go on"

-->-- ''Series 2, Episode 1''

-> [[[ConversationCut Scene]]]I'm here to see Leonard Lizard about a job and I won't take 'no' for an answer; can I see him?

-> '''Jack:''' [Voiceover] ''It was TheEighties: money mattered, greed was good; and I wanted a slice of the pie. In the city only one man could make it happen.''

-> '''Jack:''' ''It was TheEighties: money mattered, greed was good; and I wanted a slice of the pie. In the city only one man could make it happen.'' I'm here to see Leonard Lizard about a job and I won't take 'no' for an answer; can I see him?

[[AC:On their living]]

->'''LEONARD:''' As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{A-ha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]

->'''MR. MILLS:''' Alright, simmer down, the name's Mr Mills and yes, I will be applying for the Teacher of the Year Award. 'Why?' I hear you ask at the back. And if I hear you ask again, you'll get a thwack round the ear'ole and a wet towel flick to the goolies.

->[[{{Understatement}} I'm a no nonsense teacher, see.]]

->''KARL:''' Internet? What's that? Some kinda surgical implant?

->KARL: Where are we? What is this? Talk to me, Marv.
->MARV: I'm talking, Karl. I'm talking 'INTERNET'.
->KARL: Internet? What's that? Some kinda surgical implant?
->MARV: You ain't never heard of internet? What is this? 1986?

->LEONARD: Shut up.

->BOTA: Howzit?
->VOTA: Jawellnofine. Howzit?
->BOTA: Jawellnofine.

->PONGO: What ho! Now look here. The name's Pongo. Pongo Trellis-Marjoribanks-Lord - and I've no idea what this blasted web nonsense is all about because it's 1941 and it hasn't been invented yet. I suppose I should have my valet tephephelone some web Johnny and have him dash orf a couple of lines about me, my wife Margot, my chum Freddie and Margot's chum Lulu, but there's a filthy nonsense of a war on so you just can’t get the staff.

->PONGO: You DO know there's a war on, what? You see, we're all frightfully busy sticking it to Jerry and frankly, we could all be dead of a doodlebug pretty jolly soon so I say carpe whatnot and dance with whomever you like wherever you like and to hell with it if they're wearing leather trousers and smuggling a spam truncheon. Do you follow? No? Alright, as you were.
->MARGOT: Soon the war will end and we'll be [[DoubleMeaning gay and free]] and eat salmon sandwiches with the crusts off, wear croquet shoes indoors and drink our tea from a hairy cup.

->MAGDA AND KAREL: Hello and thank you so much that we are here in your land, take your money and use of all your resource. Back home it is so funny to our people that your people pay real money to have a man fix pipes and woman clean a sink. Ha ha. Silly Englishes, with your cream tea, rock music and collapsing social fabric.

->CONNIE: I been landlady 28 years, man and boy. My Granddad run it before the war. Stabbed some bloke for it. Then my old man stabbed him for it and then I stabbed it off him - so it's a family business... you got to have a stric' door policy. No work clothes, no vests, no dirty shoes. No slingbacks, no peeptoes and none of them slouchy boots. No ponces in suits. No women, no children, no blokes. The French are frowned upon. You can't bring your own booze. Or food.

->THE FILTH: The 70s is a rotten time to be a copper. When I’m not breathing on a grass, smacking some bird about or taking my sarge Geoff out for a razz in the Granada, I’m getting ulcers from a diet of Top Deck shandy, Chipsticks and Embassy Regals.

->ANGHARAD: I may be blind but I can see through you like a brilliant hawk through a load of cocks. And I can smell. I can smell bullshit from a thousand yards, so don’t go thinking you can pull the wool over my no eyes. I have MORE than compensated for my lack of visuals, with a whole load of other senses. Like my tremendous sense of outrage, see?

->LEONARD: I’m in finance. Buying, selling, moving, shaking. I do it on the move. From the sauna or a wine bar or Concorde. I’ve got a fax so why bother with an office? You know what a fax is, right? It’s the latest thing. I’ve got all the latest things. Digital watch, Betamax recorder, ZX Spectrum, BMX, a sex robot called Mickey...

->THE SAFFAS (BOTA AND VOTA): [HIGH FIVE]

->MAFIA MAMMA: Santa Barbara, being da godmother of an highly illegal mob is a total pain in da fat ass. Since my only remaining hetero son Alberto got shot in da sweetmeats, I gots to do everything myself. Cooking, cleaning, washing, whacking...

->THE CABBIE: I'm a bit of a part-time psychologist, me. I can read people. They get in the back of my cab, I can read 'em like a copy of Razzle. It's an art. See, I had that Cracker in the back once. Sweaty sock. Fat. Criminal psychologian. I says to Cracker: 'analyse this' and I point to my face and he says I’m a classic case of delusional paranoia with borderline schizophrenic tendencies and could I drop him outside the Angus Steak House. No problemo. 'Course he means the one up in Aberdeen so off we goes, M1, big fare, the business and I kid you not, I come out the other end a fully-qualified psychoanalysisist. Now I can spot a nutter a mile off.

->TERRY: Yeah, my name's Terry and this is my mate Phil.
->PHIL: Alright.
->TERRY: We drive around in my van. Delivering things. Don't we Phil?
->PHIL: That's correct.

->MR. MILLS: Alright, simmer down, the name's Mr Mills and yes, I will be applying for the Teacher of the Year Award. 'Why?' I hear you ask at the back. And if I hear you ask again, you'll get a thwack round the ear'ole and a wet towel flick to the goolies.

->KARL: Entertainment? What kinda entertainment?
->MARV: Anything, everything and a whole loada nothing. Features, home movies, comedies, dramadies, parodies, dirty knees. But mostly porn.
->KARL: OK, now we're talking. Where do I sign?

->CONNIE: Mine's the best boozer in London and anyone who says different's a total [[Series/TheAvengers Gareth Hunt]].

->THE CABBIE: That [[Series/BoSelecta Vanessa Feltz]]? Nutter. That Creator/ViggoMortensen? Nutter. That Lucian Freud? Nutter. That PeterMandelson? Nutter. That ThomasEdison? Nutter. That [[Creator/MiramaxFilms Harvey Weinstein]]? Nutter. That Terry Nutkins? Nutter. I could go on. Sometimes I do.

->LEONARD: As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{A-ha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]

[[{{Understatement}} I'm a no nonsense teacher, see.]]

-->KARL: Where are we? What is this? Talk to me, Marv.
-->MARV: I'm talking, Karl. I'm talking 'INTERNET'.
-->KARL: Internet? What's that? Some kinda surgical implant?
-->MARV: You ain't never heard of internet? What is this? 1986?

-->LEONARD: Shut up.

-->BOTA: Howzit?
-->VOTA: Jawellnofine. Howzit?
-->BOTA: Jawellnofine.

-->PONGO: What ho! Now look here. The name's Pongo. Pongo Trellis-Marjoribanks-Lord - and I've no idea what this blasted web nonsense is all about because it's 1941 and it hasn't been invented yet. I suppose I should have my valet tephephelone some web Johnny and have him dash orf a couple of lines about me, my wife Margot, my chum Freddie and Margot's chum Lulu, but there's a filthy nonsense of a war on so you just can’t get the staff.

-->PONGO: You DO know there's a war on, what? You see, we're all frightfully busy sticking it to Jerry and frankly, we could all be dead of a doodlebug pretty jolly soon so I say carpe whatnot and dance with whomever you like wherever you like and to hell with it if they're wearing leather trousers and smuggling a spam truncheon. Do you follow? No? Alright, as you were.
-->MARGOT: Soon the war will end and we'll be [[DoubleMeaning gay and free]] and eat salmon sandwiches with the crusts off, wear croquet shoes indoors and drink our tea from a hairy cup.

-->MAGDA AND KAREL: Hello and thank you so much that we are here in your land, take your money and use of all your resource. Back home it is so funny to our people that your people pay real money to have a man fix pipes and woman clean a sink. Ha ha. Silly Englishes, with your cream tea, rock music and collapsing social fabric.

-->CONNIE: I been landlady 28 years, man and boy. My Granddad run it before the war. Stabbed some bloke for it. Then my old man stabbed him for it and then I stabbed it off him - so it's a family business... you got to have a stric' door policy. No work clothes, no vests, no dirty shoes. No slingbacks, no peeptoes and none of them slouchy boots. No ponces in suits. No women, no children, no blokes. The French are frowned upon. You can't bring your own booze. Or food.

-->THE FILTH: The 70s is a rotten time to be a copper. When I’m not breathing on a grass, smacking some bird about or taking my sarge Geoff out for a razz in the Granada, I’m getting ulcers from a diet of Top Deck shandy, Chipsticks and Embassy Regals.

-->ANGHARAD: I may be blind but I can see through you like a brilliant hawk through a load of cocks. And I can smell. I can smell bullshit from a thousand yards, so don’t go thinking you can pull the wool over my no eyes. I have MORE than compensated for my lack of visuals, with a whole load of other senses. Like my tremendous sense of outrage, see?

-->LEONARD: I’m in finance. Buying, selling, moving, shaking. I do it on the move. From the sauna or a wine bar or Concorde. I’ve got a fax so why bother with an office? You know what a fax is, right? It’s the latest thing. I’ve got all the latest things. Digital watch, Betamax recorder, ZX Spectrum, BMX, a sex robot called Mickey...

-->THE SAFFAS (BOTA AND VOTA): [HIGH FIVE]

-->MAFIA MAMMA: Santa Barbara, being da godmother of an highly illegal mob is a total pain in da fat ass. Since my only remaining hetero son Alberto got shot in da sweetmeats, I gots to do everything myself. Cooking, cleaning, washing, whacking...

-->THE CABBIE: I'm a bit of a part-time psychologist, me. I can read people. They get in the back of my cab, I can read 'em like a copy of Razzle. It's an art. See, I had that Cracker in the back once. Sweaty sock. Fat. Criminal psychologian. I says to Cracker: 'analyse this' and I point to my face and he says I’m a classic case of delusional paranoia with borderline schizophrenic tendencies and could I drop him outside the Angus Steak House. No problemo. 'Course he means the one up in Aberdeen so off we goes, M1, big fare, the business and I kid you not, I come out the other end a fully-qualified psychoanalysisist. Now I can spot a nutter a mile off.

-->TERRY: Yeah, my name's Terry and this is my mate Phil.
-->PHIL: Alright.
-->TERRY: We drive around in my van. Delivering things. Don't we Phil?
-->PHIL: That's correct.

-->MR. MILLS: Alright, simmer down, the name's Mr Mills and yes, I will be applying for the Teacher of the Year Award. 'Why?' I hear you ask at the back. And if I hear you ask again, you'll get a thwack round the ear'ole and a wet towel flick to the goolies.

I'm a no nonsense teacher, see.

-->KARL: Entertainment? What kinda entertainment?
-->MARV: Anything, everything and a whole loada nothing. Features, home movies, comedies, dramadies, parodies, dirty knees. But mostly porn.
-->KARL: OK, now we're talking. Where do I sign?

-->CONNIE: Mine's the best boozer in London and anyone who says different's a total [[Series/TheAvengers Gareth Hunt]].

-->THE CABBIE: That [[Series/BoSelecta Vanessa Feltz]]? Nutter. That Creator/ViggoMortensen? Nutter. That Lucian Freud? Nutter. That PeterMandelson? Nutter. That ThomasEdison? Nutter. That [[Creator/MiramaxFilms Harvey Weinstein]]? Nutter. That Terry Nutkins? Nutter. I could go on. Sometimes I do.

-->LEONARD: As I stand above everyone, dangling my enormous, bloated bank balance between my muscular, JaneFonda-honed thighs, I cry: [[Music/{{A-ha}} “TAKE ON ME. TAKE… ON… ME…!”]]