Bottom Quotes

Richie: (breaking character, aside to door) Now you listen to me buster, you're just a door. I'm Rik fucking Mayall! CLOSE!

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Eddie: I know what you're thinking, Parrot. You're thinking "How many shots did I fire, back there in Act 2 Scene 1?" Well to tell you the truth, in all the excitement of of Richie forgetting most of his fucking lines, I've kind of forgotten myself. So, Parrot, do you feel lucky? Come on, make my day!
Parrot: You fired six you big fat bastard!
Eddie: That's right!

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Eddie: But I fucking RELOADED!

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Eddie: The Queen?
Richie: Yes, and stand up when you say that.
Eddie: [stands up] The Queen?
Richie: Yes, and kneel down when you say that.
Eddie: [kneels down] It's no wonder why she's so fucking unpopular.

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Richie: I don't believe it! We've won the Lottery!
Eddie: [returns through the window] We've what?
Richie: Oh you're back are you? Oh yes, one sniff of ginger and your knickers are around your ankles.
Eddie: Still talking bollocks, that's my twat.

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Richie: Is it? What's it doing on my back? It'll make it all sticky!
Eddie: Did I hear you say "We've won the Lottery"?
Richie: Yes-yes! We've bloody-blimey, trousery-bra-ry, won the ruddy, flipping, nippley Lottery!
Eddie: [incredulously] The "Hammersmith Bugle" Lottery?
Richie: Yeah! Go on; phone them up, check the numbers! Oh God, I can't believe it, we've won the Lottery!

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Eddie: A-ha! [hangs up the phone]
Richie: Well Eddie, what's the rollover Jackpot figure for this week?
Eddie: One pound.
Richie: ONE BLODDY PPppppp... pound?
Eddie: Yes, you see the flaw in our fiendish masterplan was that being the only people who read, or have ever read, the Hammersmith Bugle, we were of course the only people who bought a fucking Lottery ticket(!)
Richie: One pound?
Eddie: ...ish. Yeah, you see after admin costs and a "donation to charity", we actually come out with 5p. And we've just spent 10p on the phonecall finding that out.
Richie: So having won, we're now 5 pence down on the deal?
Eddie: That's correct, yes. Well done.
Richie: Well, it's a result Eddie!
Eddie: Yes! Yes! Yes, it's... it's a crap result!

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Richie: What were the charges again?
Eddie: Attempted asphyxiation of the entire population of West London, detonation of 400lbs of Semtex under contravention of the Anti-Terrorist act. Attempted regicide, Arson, causing an affray, and wiggling our todgers at the Queen.
Richie: So, its a first offense. I mean talk about Draconian!
Eddie: I can't, I dunno what it means.

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Richie: Poor, Eddie - raped to death! Raped to death and then cast aside like some soggy tissue... Good! I hope they ruddy well hurt you up the garden path area, you little shit! You little monkey prick!... Bat shit features! No, I've got a really sweary one... Michael Portillo...(Eddie suddenly and unexpectedly punches Richie in the groin) AAAARRRRGGGH! My knob! MY KNOB! I THINK IT SNAPPED!

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Eddie: Hey, my Great Uncle was in the Great War
Richie: What do mean 'Great War', there aren't any great wars, they were all frightful
Eddie: Alright then he was in the crap war!
Richie: Wow! The crap war! Far out! Which side was he on?
Eddie: Both
Richie: Wow!
Eddie: Well it depended on which direction he was facing at the time y'know. Had a little bit of a drink problem. He took out a machine-gun nest single-handly you know!
Richie: Did he?
Eddie: Yeah...But they made him bring it back, he was trying to flog it to the Germans
Richie: Hey, wasn't he the last bloke shot before the Armistice?
Eddie: Yes, that's right. Just firing off a few rounds in celebration but... stupid twat had his gun the wrong way round. Oh, they don't make 'em like Great Uncle Susan anymore.
Richie: That's marvelous stuff Eddie, but, what the fuck's it got to do with anything?

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Richie: Welcome to sophisticated Oxford. (mimes masturbating and puts on an Oxford accent) "Have a wank, professor!" "May as well: the only other thing to do is catch a fucking BUS!" (huge applause)

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Richie: Yes. Brambles. So, one bush or two?
Eddie: I beg your pardon?
Richie: God, it's just sex-sex-sex with you, isn't it?
Eddie: What do you mean, I was just asking you to repeat the question!
Richie: No you weren't! You were accusing me of accusing you of having three pubic thatches!!
Eddie: WHEN? When was this?
Richie: Just now you very well know, Lord Haw Haw! Honestly, I work my aching fingers to the bone to pep up your diet, (beat) to insert some jazz into your food!
Eddie: (Deliberately) I beg your pardon!
Richie: There you go again!
Eddie: No, no! I just didn't hear what you said very well.
Richie: Not true. Not true at all! You were accusing me of deliberately masturbating into your breakfast!

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Richie: Why are you doing this? Why? Wh-hy? Wh-h-h-hy? You're trying to send me mad, aren't you? Yes! You're trying to send me round the twist. Your're trying to make me lose the plot.
Eddie: Oh, we've got a plot this year, have we? (audience laughs)
Richie: Very much so, young man. (starts corpsing) it's just-well-not-very well-fuck.

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Richie: Eddie, we are a specialty act. We do not do impressions. You lower the whole tone. The disappearing rabbits were a nightmare.
Eddie: They disappeared.
Richie: Yeah, cos you threw them into the fucking audience!
Eddie: Hey, they reappeared.
Richie: Yeah, they fucking threw them back!

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Richie: We were not so much a two hour diversion than a twenty-four hour pitch battle in the main dining room area. We were awful.
Eddie: Oh come on. We weren't that bad. We had a great name. 'The Great Arsehole and Norman'.
Richie: [astonished] We weren't that bad, "Norman"?!

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Richie: Well, then, I think it's our duty Eddie, as citizens of the world, yes, but above all as Englishmen, with a song in our hearts and a twinkle in our eye and major league tackle in our M & S Y's, to defuse this bomb.
Eddie: Don't you mean it's our duty as lily-livered yellow-trousered shit-your-pants scared-o girlies, who've just discovered they're sharing a very tiny island with a 15-megaton nuclear device, to defuse this bomb?

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Richie: Wait, there's something written on the side.

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Richie: "Le Danger"..."Le Nuclear Bombe". Shit, it's all in French.

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Richie: You're trying to send me mad, aren't you? You're trying to send me round the twist. You're trying to make me lose the plot.
Eddie: Oh, we've got a plot this year, have we?

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Richie: You stupid fucking ring-sausage!

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Eddie: I see your point.
Richie: Why? Have my trousers fallen down? No, they're up! I can see they're up! Oh, I see your point!
Eddie: Why? Have my trousers fallen down? No, they're up! I can see they're up! Oh, I see your point!
Richie: Why? Have my trousers fallen down? No, they're up! I can see they're up! Oh, I see your point!
Eddie: Why? Have my trousers fallen down?
Eddie: Help! Rich! We're stuck in a sort of nob gag Bermuda Triangle!
Richie: Quick! Change routine! Change routine!

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Eddie: Oh look! Knackers!

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Eddie: All we have to do now is keep quiet and very still.
Richie: How long for?
Eddie: Until the end of time.
Richie: Righto.

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Eddie: I'm also going to fleetingly return to the script, if that's all right with you.

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Richie: You thorough and total wank biscuit!

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Eddie: How did you actually catch this fish?
Richie: I didn't actually catch it Eddie, no. I sort of found it. It was floating upside-down on the surface of the water.
Eddie: So it was dead already?
Richie: Well it was on its way out, yes. It was coughing very violently, bringing up this extraordinary green bile. It had this wild panicked look in its eyes, and it was foaming at the gills.
Eddie: Was this in Bluffman's Cove?
Richie: Sort of, sort of. It was in the latrine.

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Richie: So when you ask me,

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Richie: "Uh, what's for breakfast?" I would say 'something a little unusual.
Eddie: What, like a really crap impression of me? All of a sudden? 10 weeks into the tour? Just 'cos the cameras are on?

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Richie: Hey Norman, last week my wife had both her hands severed in a serious industrial accident.
Eddie: Really, how does she feel?
Richie: She can't! She hasn't got any hands left!

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Richie: Yeah, I'd like to see one of today's young, modern comedians do that joke.
Eddie: Yeah, why's that?
Richie: 'Cos it's shit!

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