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: I'd like to offer you a permanent job here, you and Marty. Jeff Randall
: That would be difficult Colonel... you see he's dead. Colonel Anger
: I know, I'm an equal opportunities employer.
: [seeing Marty, transfigured
] You're a horse with tits!
: So what are they doing down here? Petra Winters
: Like you, they're the experts in their professions. Unlike you, their eyes don't keep flitting down to my arse.
: [about Stuart Boyle
] Come shopping at Boyle's, the fat boys' superstore. Shopping at Boyle's, you'll get what you're looking for, there's so much fat to see and the parking is free...
: Ah, Fire doors, Stuart, traditionally susceptible to assault by cricket bat.
[the doors catch fire
: My hero. Stuart Boyle
: I thought you said... Jeff Randall
: Oh, shut it, fatty!
: There's something weird in this hotel, something sinister. Jeff Randall
: Oh, yeah what, the trouser press from hell? The breakfast menu of doom? The complimentary biscuits... of death?
: What happened Roger? You used to be one of the best investigative journalists around. Roger Whale
: I got old Jeff and I got tired. I spent my entire life dealing with wars, famine, disease, poverty, miscarriages of justice and misery, it was killing me. They pay me very well to titillate their readers. I may have lost my credibility, but I've gained a villa in the south of France.
: Oh, the smell of gas is getting worse. Jeff Randall
: I'm afraid that's partially down to me.
: Where we off to now? Grant
: Dinner Jeff Randall
: You're going to feed me, huh? Grant
: Yes, to the fishes!
: [after Jeff has interrogated Pomeroy
] And what were you doing canoodling with Jeannie last night? Jeff Randall
: [to Pomeroy
] And what was I doing canoodling with Jeannie last night?