SHE'D LIKE HER ASHES TO BE SCATTERED
IN A MEADOW. THAT'S THE KIND OF THING WE WANT.

AND I DO IT IN A LOVELY OLD BULL-NOSED MORRIS.

WHO WAS TRAPPED UPSIDE DOWN
IN HIS HULL EATING CHOCOLATE.

THAT'S THE PLURAL.

"I'M AN AMERICAN."

JURASSIC PARK.

DID THEY SAY YOU HAVE
TO HAVE YOUR WIFE ON THE SHOOT?

OR DAVE BLOGGS QUEUEING FOR A TICKET
BEHIND A MAN BUYING A TRAVEL PASS.

AND WE WERE STUCK IN THE FOYER,
JUST POINTING AT THE RAIN, SAYING, "WE'RE STUCK."

IT'S DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND WHY YOU SAY SPLIDDING

(HEAVY ACCENT) IF THEY HAD PROPER JOBS,
THEY WOULDN'T BE UP TO ALL THIS LARKING.

SIT THERE. SIT THERE.

I DON'T WANT YOU TO FEEL
THAT THE DOORS HAVE ALL CLOSED AT THE BBC.

A LOT OF BITTERNESS.
YOU END ALMOST EVERY ANECDOTE WITH THE PHRASE,

"HELLO, YOU BASTARD!"

THERE'S NO POINT PULLING IT.
HE'S DETERMINED TO MAKE IT REACH.

AND DON'T TRY TO HOVER UP SO THAT THE ROPE
GOES SLACK. THEY COULD DO THAT, COULDN'T THEY?

NOT EVEN ITS MOTHER. SHE JUST FLIES OFF DEPRESSED.