Come on boys, show 'em [the platoon cock their guns and aim them upwards], enemy plane I said, just like you said Sir. Swing with the plane, boys, swing with the plane, aim just in front. And then I gave the order 'shoot'.
No, no not 'shoot'; FIRE!
[BANG!]
[The platoon have instinctively followed the order and pulled the triggers on their guns, which were loaded, unknown to them. Pieces of debris rain down from the roof as the Vicar and Mr. Yeatman come rushing in]
YMr Yeatman
VANDALS!
Shall we meet again at the same time, same place next week?
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