[At Scotland Yard]
John: Hold on, it's them! Only me and Paul know we're here.
George: I know we're here.
Superintendent: Allow me. I'm a bit of a famous mimic in my own small way, you know James Cagney.
[imitating Ringo on the phone]
Superintendent: Hello, there, this is the famous Ringo here, gear fab. What is it that I can do for you, as it were, gear fab?
George: Not a bit like Cagney.
Bhuta: [in the Indian restaurant, referring to Ringo] Excuse me, sirs, but if he is to be sacrificed before the dread Kaili, why is he not painted red?
John: That's a question I'll never be able to pluck up the courage to ask but as he's me best friend I will.
John: Stop dragging things down to your own level, it's immature son.
Ringo: I thought, Well I... I thought she was a sandwich, 'til she went spare on me hand.
George: [realizing the curling stone is actually a bomb] Hey, it's a thingie! A fiendish thingie!
[Ringo's hand is trapped in the sandwich dispenser]
Ringo: Hey someone's got hold of me finger!
John: Are you trying to attract attention again?
Clang: [offering a bagful of gold] Psst! Hey, Be-a-tle! You shall have fun, yes?
John: No thanks, I'm rhythm guitar and mouth organ.
Superintendent: So this is the famous ring?
Ringo: I'm in fear of me life, you know!
Superintendent: And these are the famous Beatles?
John: So this is the famous Scotland Yard, eh?
Superintendent: And how long do you think you'll last?
John: Can't say fairer than that. The Great Train Robbery, eh? How's that going?
Ringo: The Fire Brigade once got my head out of some railings.
John: Did you want them to?
Ringo: No, I used to leave it there when I wasn't using it for school. You can see a lot of the world from railings.
John: [to Ringo whose arm is trapped inside a mail box] What are you doing?
Ringo: Posting a letter.
John: [finding a season ticket in his soup] What's this?
Ringo: A season ticket. What do you think it is?
John: Oh. I like a lot of seasoning in me soup.
John: How do you feel?
[puts light bulb to Ringo's mouth like a microphone]
Ringo: I used to use my hands.
John: [speaks into "microphone" in funny voice] He used to use his hands.
Narrator: End of Part One. Intermission.
[short clip of the Beatles frolicking in a meadow]
Narrator: End of Intermission. Part Two.
[cut to a nurse bathing Ahme's sister]
Lady: Where you been, eh? You been up at that temple again, ain't ya? You're as bad as your sister, coming home from work all hours and all colors.
Narrator: End of Part Two. Part Three: Later That Evening.
[Hypnotism attempt over the phone from a public phone box]
Clang: Go to the window.
John: Hey! It's them!
[the Beatles block their ears]
Clang: Go to the window, Go to the window, Go to the window, Go to the window.
[One of Clang's men is choking John]
John: Get off!
[George jumps in to help, but Clang's man falls aside. George ends up choking John]
John: It's me, you fool!
George: [Still choking John] Oh, sorry!
John: Well, stop it!
[after a failed attempt to steal Ringo's ring]
Ringo: Hey! You've been messing about with me in my kip!
Ringo: No, I mean, you know, with a fishing rod.
John: I wouldn't touch it with a plastic one. What are you doing on the floor?
Ringo: I'm tired.
Ringo: There's more here than meets the eye!
George: Ho ho.
George: Ho ho.
George: Ho ho ho
John: Ho ho!
George: Ho ho.
John: Huh ho.
[to an Indian man standing on his head]
John: Doesn't the blood rush to your head Sir?
[In the restaurant kitchen]
George: Doesn't the eastern flavor come rather expensive?
[Paul to belly dancer]
Paul: Doesn't the blood rush to your stomach?
Professor Foot: MIT was after me, you know. Wanted me to rule the world for them.
Ahme: Hold! Release him or I shoot, and I am a dead-eye shot, shooting.
Ringo: They have to paint me red before they chop me. It's a different religion from ours. I think.
Professor Foot: With a ring like that I could dare I say it? Rule the world.
Ringo: [to Clang after he has taken off the ring and put it on Clang] Get sacrificed! I don't subscribe to your religion!
John: Oh, why don't you chop it off, Ringo?
Ringo: Look John, I've had some great times with this finger.
Ringo: And how do you know I wouldn't miss it?
Paul: You're a rat underneath, aren't you?
Ringo: [Paul returns to normal after hiding in the ashtray on the floor] Look!
Paul: Yech, I'm all sticky.
[sees Ringo covered in paint]
Paul: You're all red!
Cameo: Boys, are you buzzing?
John: No thanks, I've got the car!
Cameo: No no no. I'll have to play it back. You'll have to do it again!
[He plays the recording back so they can hear the buzzing sound]
John: Is that you?
George: Well don't look at me.
[Ringo and his drums crash through the sawn-through floor to the room below]
John: That was you buzzing! You naughty boy!
George: How's your equilibrium ring?
Ringo: How's yours? You lied again, George.
George: How'd you know it's not you that's lied.
Ringo: Cause I never am. Am I, Paul?
Paul: Yeah, you are.
George: [referring to a drill coming through a painting] What's that?
Austrian Waiter: What's what?
George: That little whirly thing coming out of his stomach.
Austrian Waiter: I can't look!
[a hose comes through the whole the drill made]
John: It's only a hose.
[the waiter faints as the Beatles investigate the hose]
Paul: [listens into the hose then hands it to John] It's for you.
John: Who is it?
Paul: The gardener.
Clang: Something must be done. Without the ring, there will be no sacrifice. Without the sacrifice, there will be no congregation. Without the congregation no more me.
Bhuta: This is so.
[Clang hits Bhuta]
Clang: [realizing the ring is gone] The ring!
Ahme: The ring!
Bhuta: Has nobody looked in the wash basin?
[Offering gold to Paul]
Clang: Hey, Be-a-tle! How about this, eh? Shufty gold! All of it pure gold in easy-to-handle denominational nuggets. Not marked, not a mark on 'em, eh?
Paul: No, I hate them.
Paul: I I do! I mean, they make your fingers go green.
Ahme: It is not the Beatle with the ring, he.
Paul: Aren't I?
Ahme: No unfortunately!
[laughs as Paul gives her a dirty look]
Clang: Quickly, quickly.
Bhuta: Yes, yes.
Clang: In, in.
Bhuta: Right, right.
Clang: All in together now Sir.
[Harrods van won't start]
Clang: What! Arrgghh!
Bhuta: Oh, Shilling.
Clang: Shilling, now.
Bhuta: Off, off.
Ringo: I like operations. They give you a sense of outlook, don't they?
Professor Foot: Voltage, Voltage! Up up. Up up
Paul: Up, up.
Ringo: Are you sure I'm earthed?
Algernon: Oh no! Er, hold on, thank you.
Algernon: [about Professor Foot] It's more than my job's worth to stop him when he's like this. He's out to rule the world if he can get a government grant.
Jeweller: We have all sorts of little problems like this, sir. Some of them matrimonial!
George: [referring to Ringo's finger] Hey, there might be some insurance.
John: I wouldn't think of such a thing!
John: Find out, eh?
Bhuta: [to thuggees just before attack on Beatles' house] Alright, alright. Synchronize your watches. You, you, you and you, paint him red, then kill him!
John: [George has just passed out from seeing the size of Ahme's hypodermic needle] Now see what you've done with your filthy Eastern ways!
Ahme: No! It is Clang, the high priest, who is filthy in his Eastern ways.
John: How do we know you're not just as filthy, and sent by him to nick the ring by being filthy when you've lulled us with your filthy Eastern ways?
Paul: What filthy ways are these?
Superintendent: [cowering under his desk] There's a strong case for arming the police. We aren't all masochists, you know.
Clang: Take this hastily scribbled note, hastily to acting Lance Corporal Bhuta. Off!
[John and Paul are trying to get Ringo to cut his finger off]
Paul: You don't miss your tonsils, do yer?
George: I'm always getting winked at these days. It used to be you didn't it Paul?
[Ringo is trapped in a cellar with a tiger]
Superintendent: Good lord, it's Rajah, the famous Bengal man-eater who escaped from London Zoo this morning.
John: Good Lord! So it famous is!
Superintendent: Oh, don't worry, he's absolutely harmless. All you have to do is sing Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" from the famous Ninth Symphony in D minor.
John: Of course! Why didn't you think of that you twit!
[In disguise at the airport. Newspapers have discovered their destination]
Ringo: Okay, who let it out?
John: Nobody'll know!
Paul: We're not going there.
John: We just put it 'round we're going there.
Paul: We're not going there!
John: We just put it 'round we're going there!
George: Just so everybody'd think we were going there.
Ringo: I'd like to go there.
John: You wouldn't like it.
Ringo: Where are we going, then?
John: Never you mind.
[Paul tracking foot prints]
Paul: Easterner with greasy feet speak with fork tongue.
John: Does he? What's he say?
Paul: Passing this way, hot foot, many moons to temple.
George: Don't encourage him. You've got the part Paul!
John: Dare we ask how you know?
Paul: How? I saw these footprints and this guide book which points out places of local worship.
John: To the temple!
Superintendent: Oh come on now lads, don't be windy, where's that famous pluck?
John: I haven't got any, have you George?
George: Did have.
Paul: I have had.
Ringo: I will have! Lead on!
Ringo: [Ringo approaches the bar and asks for] Two lagers and lime and two lagers and lime
Ahme: [to Ringo, holding a syringe] This will make your finger shrink. Be brave.
John: Don't look.
Ahme: [into the camera] Alas, if he were brave, this would not be necessary.