The Prisoner: Busy, Potter?
Potter: [disguised as a shoeshine boy] It's our form of Siberia.
Potter: It was so damned unsporting.
The Prisoner: It certainly wasn't cricket.
Killer Karminski: Take it easy sir, will ya? Me face is me fortune. You might knock it back into shape.
Sonia: Mountaineering rope. It would hold an elephant.
The Prisoner: I must remember that next time I go climbing with one.
[the Prisoner drinks a beer and then learns that it had been poisoned]
Barmaid: Same again, sir?
The Prisoner: No thank you. One of those is quite enough. Brandy.
[the barmaid serves the brandy]
The Prisoner: Whiskey, vodka, Drambuie.
[the Prisoner drinks the brandy and the barmaid serves the other drinks]
The Prisoner: Tia Maria, Cointreau, Grand Marnier.
[the barmaid continues serving drinks and The Prisoner continues drinking them]
Barmaid: Sir, you'll make yourself sick.
[the Prisoner goes to the restroom, presumably to throw up]