- Mar 30, 2001
- 16,642
- 62
- 91
"Oh Lord, Bless this thine holy handgrenade. That with it we may blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thou mercy!"
Post your favortie Monty Python quote.
- Thread starter CrackRabbit
- Start date
"Oh Lord, Bless this thine holy handgrenade. That with it we may blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thou mercy!"
GagHalfrunt
Lifer
- Apr 19, 2001
- 25,284
- 1,998
- 126
There are tons of lines, but I love this scene:
The screen suddenly fizzles and is replaced by a scratchy-looking film title reading "Viral Army Training Film #23: How Not To Be Seen." We see a lower-level section of G Prime. A bass voice intones, "This is where we train virals on not being seen. There is one viral hidden here. Sergeant Smiley, will you please stand up." A viral comes out from behind some crates. A green beam lances into him, separating him into his components.
The deep voice continues, "As you see, Sergeant Smiley has not learned the first rule of Not Being Seen: Never stand up." The scene changes to three bushes All In A Row. "Guardians are well trained in Not Being Seen," the voice-over continues, "Mr. Guardian, will you stand up please?" Nothing happens. "We do not know which bush the Guardian is hiding behind, but we can quickly find out." The green beam blasts the left-hand bush, then the right-hand one. The middle bush screams upon detonation. "Aha! It was the middle one! What a clever fellow he is. Was."
The screen suddenly fizzles and is replaced by a scratchy-looking film title reading "Viral Army Training Film #23: How Not To Be Seen." We see a lower-level section of G Prime. A bass voice intones, "This is where we train virals on not being seen. There is one viral hidden here. Sergeant Smiley, will you please stand up." A viral comes out from behind some crates. A green beam lances into him, separating him into his components.
The deep voice continues, "As you see, Sergeant Smiley has not learned the first rule of Not Being Seen: Never stand up." The scene changes to three bushes All In A Row. "Guardians are well trained in Not Being Seen," the voice-over continues, "Mr. Guardian, will you stand up please?" Nothing happens. "We do not know which bush the Guardian is hiding behind, but we can quickly find out." The green beam blasts the left-hand bush, then the right-hand one. The middle bush screams upon detonation. "Aha! It was the middle one! What a clever fellow he is. Was."
ARTHUR: Old woman!
DENNIS: Man!
ARTHUR: Man, sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?
DENNIS: I'm thirty seven.
ARTHUR: What?
DENNIS: I'm thirty seven -- I'm not old!
ARTHUR: Well, I can't just call you `Man'.
DENNIS: Well, you could say `Dennis'.
ARTHUR: Well, I didn't know you were called `Dennis.'
DENNIS: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?
ARTHUR: I did say sorry about the `old woman,' but from the
behind you looked--
DENNIS: What I object to is you automatically treat me like an
inferior!
ARTHUR: Well, I AM king...
DENNIS: Oh king, eh, very nice. An' how'd you get that, eh? By
exploitin' the workers -- by 'angin' on to our outdated imperialist
dogma which perpetuates the economic an' social differences in our
society! If there's ever going to be any progress--
WOMAN: Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here. Oh -- how
d'you do?
ARTHUR: How do you do, good lady. I am Arthur, King of the
Britons. Who's castle is that?
WOMAN: King of the who?
ARTHUR: The Britons.
WOMAN: Who are the Britons?
ARTHUR: Well, we all are. we're all Britons and I am your king.
WOMAN: I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an
autonomous collective.
DENNIS: You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship.
A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
WOMAN: Oh there you go, bringing class into it again.
DENNIS: That's what it's all about if only people would--
ARTHUR: Please, please good people. I am in haste. Who lives
in that castle?
WOMAN: No one live there.
ARTHUR: Then who is your lord?
WOMAN: We don't have a lord.
ARTHUR: What?
DENNIS: I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We
take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the
week.
ARTHUR: Yes.
DENNIS: But all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified
at a special biweekly meeting.
ARTHUR: Yes, I see.
DENNIS: By a simple majority in the case of purely internal
affairs,--
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: --but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more--
ARTHUR: Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!
WOMAN: Order, eh -- who does he think he is?
ARTHUR: I am your king!
WOMAN: Well, I didn't vote for you.
ARTHUR: You don't vote for kings.
WOMAN: Well, 'ow did you become king then?
ARTHUR: The Lady of the Lake, [angels sing] her arm clad in the
purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of
the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Arthur, was to
carry Excalibur. [singing stops] That is why I am your king!
DENNIS: Listen -- strange women lying in ponds distributing
swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive
power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some
farcical aquatic ceremony.
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: Well you can't expect to wield supreme executive power
just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!
ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: I mean, if I went around sayin' I was an empereror just
because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me they'd
put me away!
ARTHUR: Shut up! Will you shut up!
DENNIS: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system.
ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system!
HELP! HELP! I'm being repressed!
ARTHUR: Bloody peasant!
DENNIS: Oh, what a give away. Did you here that, did you here
that, eh? That's what I'm on about -- did you see him repressing
me, you saw it didn't you?
DENNIS: Man!
ARTHUR: Man, sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?
DENNIS: I'm thirty seven.
ARTHUR: What?
DENNIS: I'm thirty seven -- I'm not old!
ARTHUR: Well, I can't just call you `Man'.
DENNIS: Well, you could say `Dennis'.
ARTHUR: Well, I didn't know you were called `Dennis.'
DENNIS: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?
ARTHUR: I did say sorry about the `old woman,' but from the
behind you looked--
DENNIS: What I object to is you automatically treat me like an
inferior!
ARTHUR: Well, I AM king...
DENNIS: Oh king, eh, very nice. An' how'd you get that, eh? By
exploitin' the workers -- by 'angin' on to our outdated imperialist
dogma which perpetuates the economic an' social differences in our
society! If there's ever going to be any progress--
WOMAN: Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here. Oh -- how
d'you do?
ARTHUR: How do you do, good lady. I am Arthur, King of the
Britons. Who's castle is that?
WOMAN: King of the who?
ARTHUR: The Britons.
WOMAN: Who are the Britons?
ARTHUR: Well, we all are. we're all Britons and I am your king.
WOMAN: I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an
autonomous collective.
DENNIS: You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship.
A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
WOMAN: Oh there you go, bringing class into it again.
DENNIS: That's what it's all about if only people would--
ARTHUR: Please, please good people. I am in haste. Who lives
in that castle?
WOMAN: No one live there.
ARTHUR: Then who is your lord?
WOMAN: We don't have a lord.
ARTHUR: What?
DENNIS: I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We
take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the
week.
ARTHUR: Yes.
DENNIS: But all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified
at a special biweekly meeting.
ARTHUR: Yes, I see.
DENNIS: By a simple majority in the case of purely internal
affairs,--
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: --but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more--
ARTHUR: Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!
WOMAN: Order, eh -- who does he think he is?
ARTHUR: I am your king!
WOMAN: Well, I didn't vote for you.
ARTHUR: You don't vote for kings.
WOMAN: Well, 'ow did you become king then?
ARTHUR: The Lady of the Lake, [angels sing] her arm clad in the
purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of
the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Arthur, was to
carry Excalibur. [singing stops] That is why I am your king!
DENNIS: Listen -- strange women lying in ponds distributing
swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive
power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some
farcical aquatic ceremony.
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: Well you can't expect to wield supreme executive power
just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!
ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: I mean, if I went around sayin' I was an empereror just
because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me they'd
put me away!
ARTHUR: Shut up! Will you shut up!
DENNIS: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system.
ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system!
HELP! HELP! I'm being repressed!
ARTHUR: Bloody peasant!
DENNIS: Oh, what a give away. Did you here that, did you here
that, eh? That's what I'm on about -- did you see him repressing
me, you saw it didn't you?
Zeeky Boogy Doog
Platinum Member
- Mar 31, 2004
- 2,295
- 1
- 0
Man: (entering a shop) Um, excuse me, is this the undertaker's?
Undertaker: Yup, that's right, what can I do for you, squire?
Man: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. My mother has just died and I'm not quite sure what I should do.
Undertaker: Ah, well, we can 'elp you. We deal with stiffs.
Man: (aghast) Stiffs?
Undertaker: Yea. Now there's three things we can do with your mum. We can bury her, burn her, or dump her.
Man: Dump her?
Undertaker: Dump her in the Thames.
Man: (still aghast) What?
Undertaker: Oh, did you like her?
Man: Yes!
Undertaker: Oh well, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think: burn her, or bury her?
Man: Um, well, um, which would you recommend?
Undertaker: Well they're both nasty. If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead. But quick. And then you get a box of ashes, which you can pretend are hers.
Man: (timidly) Oh.
Undertaker: Or, if you don't wanna fry her, you can bury her. And then she'll get eaten up by maggots and weevils, nibble, nibble, nibble, which isn't so hot if, as I said, she's not quite dead.
Man: I see. Um. Well, I.. I.. I.. I'm not very sure. She's definitely dead.
Undertaker: Where is she?
Man: In the sack.
Undertaker: Let's 'ave a look.
(FX: rustle of bag opening)
Undertaker: Umm, she looks quite young.
Man: Yes, she was.
Undertaker: (over his shoulder) FRED!
Fred: (offstage) Yea!
Undertaker: I THINK WE'VE GOT AN EATER!
Fred: I'll get the oven on!
Man: Um, er...excuse me, um, are you... are you suggesting we should eat my mother?
(pause)
Undertaker: Yeah. Not raw, not raw. We cook her. She'd be delicious with a few french fries, a bit of stuffing. Delicious! (smacks his lips)
Man: What! (he stammers)
(pause)
Man: Actually, I do feel a bit peckish - No! NO, I can't!
Undertaker: Look, we'll eat your mum. Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it.
Man: All right.
l2c
Undertaker: Yup, that's right, what can I do for you, squire?
Man: Um, well, I wonder if you can help me. My mother has just died and I'm not quite sure what I should do.
Undertaker: Ah, well, we can 'elp you. We deal with stiffs.
Man: (aghast) Stiffs?
Undertaker: Yea. Now there's three things we can do with your mum. We can bury her, burn her, or dump her.
Man: Dump her?
Undertaker: Dump her in the Thames.
Man: (still aghast) What?
Undertaker: Oh, did you like her?
Man: Yes!
Undertaker: Oh well, we won't dump her, then. Well, what do you think: burn her, or bury her?
Man: Um, well, um, which would you recommend?
Undertaker: Well they're both nasty. If we burn her, she gets stuffed in the flames, crackle, crackle, crackle, which is a bit of a shock if she's not quite dead. But quick. And then you get a box of ashes, which you can pretend are hers.
Man: (timidly) Oh.
Undertaker: Or, if you don't wanna fry her, you can bury her. And then she'll get eaten up by maggots and weevils, nibble, nibble, nibble, which isn't so hot if, as I said, she's not quite dead.
Man: I see. Um. Well, I.. I.. I.. I'm not very sure. She's definitely dead.
Undertaker: Where is she?
Man: In the sack.
Undertaker: Let's 'ave a look.
(FX: rustle of bag opening)
Undertaker: Umm, she looks quite young.
Man: Yes, she was.
Undertaker: (over his shoulder) FRED!
Fred: (offstage) Yea!
Undertaker: I THINK WE'VE GOT AN EATER!
Fred: I'll get the oven on!
Man: Um, er...excuse me, um, are you... are you suggesting we should eat my mother?
(pause)
Undertaker: Yeah. Not raw, not raw. We cook her. She'd be delicious with a few french fries, a bit of stuffing. Delicious! (smacks his lips)
Man: What! (he stammers)
(pause)
Man: Actually, I do feel a bit peckish - No! NO, I can't!
Undertaker: Look, we'll eat your mum. Then, if you feel a bit guilty about it afterwards, we can dig a grave and you can throw up into it.
Man: All right.
l2c
I wasnt expecting the Spanish Inquisition.
Dun dun dun
Nooooooooooooobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!
Dun dun dun
Nooooooooooooobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!
Large Man with Dead Body: Who's that then?
The Dead Collector: I dunno, must be a king.
Large Man with Dead Body: Why?
The Dead Collector: He hasn't got sh!t all over him.
The Dead Collector: I dunno, must be a king.
Large Man with Dead Body: Why?
The Dead Collector: He hasn't got sh!t all over him.
"Look, I came here for an argument. An argument isn't just a series of contradiction!"
"Yes it is."
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is."
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is."
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is."
"No it isn't!"
ZOXXO
Golden Member
- Feb 1, 2003
- 1,281
- 0
- 76
"'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker!
'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies!
'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig!
'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!"
'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies!
'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig!
'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!"
"now go away, or i shall taunt you a second time."
for most of the posts, it should probably be the motto of atot
for most of the posts, it should probably be the motto of atot
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