You keeping accounts now?! (to Grandad) Well, there you are Grandad. A lot of people said I was a right dipstick to make my brother a partner in the business. But this only goes to prove how bloody right they were!
All you use to give me was TV dinners or convienience food, if it wasn't frozen or dehydrated we didn't eat it. If you had been in charge of The Last Supper it would have been a takeaway!
(trying to explain to Rodney why Trotters Independent Traders never pays taxes) We don't pay V.A.T, we don't pay income tax or national insurance. On the other hand, we don't claim dole money, social security, supplementary benefit... The government don't give us nothing, so we don't give the government nothing.
Yeah, course I do. (to Rodney) How you going, Dave? (Trigger and Rodney shake hands; to Del) Sorry I'm late, Del Boy. I had to pop round me sister's to sort out an alibi for next Thursday. (to barmaid) Joycie! (he goes over to the bar as Del drinks)
A financial advisor?! Bonjour Trieste! You are beautiful, you are, Rodney! Today, I almost clinched a deal to buy these briefcases for £175. When my "financial advisor" stuck his nose in, and advised me to pay £200. Right? And now, having paid the £200, my "financial advisor" now advises me to chuck the bleedin' lot in the river! Now, with financial advisors like that, who needs a bleedin' recession?