- Mr. Mousebender: [entering cheese shop] Good morning, um, I was sitting in the public library on Servon Street just now, skimming through Rogue Harries by Horace Walpole, when I sort came over all peckish.
- Clerk: Peckish, sir?
- Mr. Mousebender: Eseriant, ay?
- Clerk: Ay?
- Mr. Mousebender: [Yorkshire Accent] Ee, I were all 'ungry, like.
- Clerk: Ah, hungry.
- Mr. Mousebender: In a nutshell. So I thought to myself, a little fermented curd would do the trick. So I curtailed my Walpoling activities, sallied forth and infiltrated your place of purveyance, to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles.
- Clerk: Come again?
- Mr. Mousebender: [Yorkshire Accent] I want to buy some cheese!
- Clerk: Oh! I thought you were complaining about the music.
- Biggles: [dictating] Dear King Harkoff.
- Secretary: Of Norway, is that?
- Biggles: Just put down what I say.
- Secretary: Do I put *that* down.
- Biggles: Of course you don't put that down!
- Secretary: Well, what about *that*?
- Biggles: Look, don't put that down, just put down - wait a minute, wait a minute - now when I've got these antlers on I *am* dictating, and when I take them off I'm *not* dictating.
- Secretary: [typing] I'm - not - dictating.
- Biggles: What?
- [putting the antlers back on]
- Biggles: Read that back.
- Secretary: Dear King Harkoff, I'm not dictating. What?
- Biggles: No, no, no, no, no, you loopy brothel inmate!