Darling quotes from Blackadder

God, it's a spankingly beautiful world, and tonight's my night! I know exactly what I'll say to her. "Darling..."

Yes, sir?

What?

Um...I don't know, sir.

Well, don't butt in! [exhales] "I want to make you happy, darling."

Well, that's very kind of you, sir.

Will you kindly stop interrupting?! If you don't listen, how can you tell me what you think?! "I want to make you happy, darling. I want to build a nest for your ten tiny toes. I want to cover every inch of your gorgeous body in pepper, and then sneeze all over you!"

[appalled]Really, sir! I must protest!

What is the matter with you, Darling?!

Well, it's just all so sudden, sir. I mean the nest bit's fine, but the pepper business is definitely out!

How dare you tell me how I may or may not treat my beloved Georgina!

[confused] Georgina?

Yes! I'm working on what I want to say to her this evening!

[realizes] Oh yes. Of course. Thank god.

Alright?

Yes, sir. I'm listening, sir.

Honestly, Darling, you really are the most graceless dimwitted bumpkin I ever met.

I don't think you should say that to her, sir.

[to the volunteers] All right! [shaking his rear end] Let's do-o-o-o-o-o-o it! The first thing to remember is: always treat your kite [whacks the diagram with the pointer] like you treat your woman! [whips the air, hard]

Ho-How do you mean, sir? You mean, um...you mean, take her home over the weekend to meet your mother?

No, I mean get inside her five times a day and take her to heaven and back!

I'm beginning to see why the Suffragette Movement want the vote.

Hey, any bird who wants to chain herself to my railings and suffer a jet movement gets my vote! Right, well, I'll see you in ten minutes for takeoff!

Hang on! Hang on! What about the months of training?!

Hey, Wet Pants, this isn't the Women's Auxiliary Balloon Corps! You're in the Twenty Minuters now!

Excuse me, sir?

Yes! Prat at the back!

Um, I think we'd all like to know why you're called the Twenty Minuters.

Oh, Mister Thicko. Imagine not knowing that.

Well, it's simple - the average life expectancy for a new pilot is twenty minutes!

[pleased] Ah.

[looks pointedly at George] Life expectancy of twenty minutes?

That's right! Goggles on, chocks away, last one back's a homo! HOORAY!

So, we take off in ten minutes, we're in the air for twenty minutes, [looks at his wristwatch] which means we should be dead by twenty-five to ten.

Hairy blighters, sir, this is a bit of a turnup for the plus fours.

I wouldn't worry too much, Blackadder. Flying's all about navigation. [walks over to the main door] As long as you've got a good navigator, I'm sure you'll be fine. [opens the door to reveal Baldrick wearing an aviator's helmet and goggles]

The Germans seem to be able to anticipate our every move. We send up an airplane, there's a Jerry squadron parked behind the nearest cloud. We move troops to Boulogne, the Germans have bought the entire town's supply of lavatory paper. In short, a German spy is giving away every one of our battle plans.

You look surprised, Blackadder.

I certainly am, sir. I didn't realise that we had any battle plans.

Well of course we have! How else do you think the battles are directed?

Our battles are directed, sir?

Well of course they are, Blackadder, directed according to the grand plan.

Would that be the plan to continue with total slaughter until everyone's dead except for Field Marshall Haig, Lady Haig and their tortoise, Alan?

[horrified] Great Scott! Even you know it! Guard, guard, bolt all the doors! Hammer large pieces of crooked wood against all the windows! This security leak is far worse than we'd imagined!

So, you see, Blackadder, Field Marshal Haig is anxious to eliminate all these German spies.

Filthy Hun weasels fighting their dirty underhand war!

Fortunately, one of our spies...

Splendid fellows! Brave heroes risking life and limb for Blighty!

...has discovered that the leak is coming from the field hospital.

You think there's a German spy in the field hospital? I think you might be right.

Your job, Blackadder, is to root this spy out. How long do you think you'll need?

[checks his wristwatch] Mmm...

You'll have to be away from the trenches for some time.

Six months?

Too bad, Blackadder, you've got three weeks.

Yes, three weeks to smoke the bugger out. Use any method you see fit. Personally, I recommend you get hold of a cocker spaniel, tie your suspect to a chair with a potty on his head, then pop his todger between two floury baps and shout "Dinnertime, Fido!". If you are successful, I shall need you back here permanently to head up my new security network, Operation: Winkle.

'Winkle'?

Yes. To winkle out the spies.

You never mentioned this to me, sir!

Well, we have to have some secrets, don't we, Darling?

Right, well, I'll be back in three weeks.

Excellent! And if you come back with the information, Captain Darling will pump you thoroughly in the debriefing room.

Not while I have my strength, he won't. [takes back his pistol from Darling and leaves.]

Damnation, sir, his insolence makes my blood boil! What's more, I don't trust him, sir. I think it would be best if I went to the hospital myself to keep an eye on him

What, spy on our own spy as he searches for their spy? Yes, why not? Sounds rather fun. You'll have to go undercover.

Oh, definitely, sir.

And you'll need some kind of wound. A convincing wound.

Naturally, sir.

Yes, that looks quite convincing.

Sir...I'm scared, sir.

Baldrick

I'm scared too, sir.

I'm the last of the tiddly-winking leap-froggers from the golden summer of 1914. I don't want to die...I'm really not overly keen on dying at all, sir.

How are you feeling, Darling?

Ah, not all that good, Blackadder. Rather thought I'd get through the whole show, go back to working at Pratt and Sons, keep wicket for the Croydon Gentlemen, marry Doris. Made a note in my diary on the way here. Simply says "Bugger".

Well, quite.

Listen...Our guns have stopped.

You don't think...?

Baldrick

[with rising hope] Maybe...the war's over. Maybe it's peace!

[overjoyed] Oh, hurrah! The big knobs have gone round the table and yanked the iron out of the fire!

[also overjoyed] Thank God! We lived through it! The Great War, 1914 to 1917!

Hip-hip...

HOORAY!

[sadly] I'm afraid...not. The guns have stopped because we're about to attack. Not even our generals are mad enough to shell their own men. They think it's far more sporting to let the Germans do it.

[afraid] So we are, in fact, going over? This is, as they say, "it"?

I'm afraid so. Unless I can think of something very quickly.

Company, one pace forward!

Baldrick

Oh, there's a nasty splinter on that ladder, sir! A bloke could hurt himself on that!

Stand ready!

Baldrick

I have...a plan, sir.

Really, Baldrick? A cunning and subtle one?

Baldrick

Yes, sir.

As cunning as a fox who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University?

Baldrick

Yes, sir.

On the signal, company will advance!

Well, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was better than my plan to get out of this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman round here? [a whistle is heard] Good luck, everyone. [blows whistle]