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: You're not doing yourself any favours, are you Banyard? All you're doing is getting up other people's noses. Banyard
: We have certain rights. Fletcher
: No we don't, we're in the nick. Ives
: I suppose you think you're entitled to something better just because you went to a public school, is that it? Banyard
: On the contrary, Ives, I'm well used to this kind of food, I went to Harrow. Fletcher
: Oh that's a good advert for the public school system, prepares you for the nick. Course it's harder in here for him than for most of us, 'cause he has had further to drop. Professional man, you see. Dentist. Tragic. Ives
: What do you mean, Fletcher, 'tragic'? It's no laughing matter for that woman he had under the laughing gas. Banyard
: There's no need for that, Ives. We don't have to keep unearthing each other's past, I'm paying for my peccadilloes. Fletcher
: Oh that's good. If you're paying I'll have a large one. Bunny Warren
: What's a peccadillo? Ives
: It's a South African bird. Flies backwards to stop getting the sand in its eyes. Bunny Warren
: No. No. I know what you mean though. It's an animal. Called the Armadildo. Banyard
: The Armadildo. Fletcher
: No, that was King Arthur's codpiece. I think that's what I'm eating an' all.
: What sort of pie is this? Godber
: Fruit pie. Banyard
: Yes, I realised that. I merely wondered what sort of fruit. Godber
: I dunno, it just comes out of a tin marked "Fruit Pie Filling". Banyard
: So, we have no clue to its origins? Lotterby
: [after sticking his finger in Banyard's dessert bowl and tasting the fruit
] No, it's not oranges. It's more like, er... plum or damson.
: I don't know why you kowtow to that man, Grout. Fletcher
: I know you don't, Mr Banyard. That's why your nose looks like it does.