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: Splendid, I thought. What did you think? Bernard
: I, thought, splendid! What did you think? Tom
: Splendid, I thought.
: Yes, it's odd, isn't it? All these years we've been single and proud of it and never noticed that two of us were, in effect, married all this time. Tom
: Traitors in our midst.
: Excellent wedding hairstyle.
: Oh, I don't know, Charlie. Unlike you, I never expected "the thunderbolt." I always just hoped that, that I'd meet some nice friendly girl, like the look of her, hope the look of me didn't make her physically sick, then pop the question and, um, settle down and be happy. It worked for my parents. Well, apart from the divorce and all that.
: The great advantage of having a reputation for being stupid: People are less suspicious of you.
: Tom, are you the richest man in England? Tom
: Oh, no. We're... like, seventh.
: Did anyone else tread in a cowpat? No, thought not.
: Well, let's face the facts. If you weren't certain you wanted to marry her today, of all days - i.e., your wedding day - then it must have been the right decision, mustn't it?
[Fiona looks at him as though she's about to say, "Bugger off, Tom," for the umpteenth time, then reaches out and touches his shoulder affectionately
: Quite right, Tom.
[after running into his cousin, Deirdre
: Golly... bloody Thunderbolt City!