. . .
TV Announcer: It's just gone eight o'clock and time for the penguin on top of your television set to explode.
[The penguin explodes]
Pepperpot 1: How did he know that was going to happen?
TV Announcer: It was an inspired guess. And now...

"It's" Man: I would tax Raquel Welch. I have a feeling she'd tax me.

"Prejudice" Host: Well now, the result of last week's competition when we asked you to find a derogatory term for the Belgians. Well, the response was enormous and we took quite a long time sorting out the winners. There were some very clever entries. Mrs Hatred of Leicester Said 'let's not call them anything, let's just ignore them'. And a Mr St John of Huntingdon said he couldn't think of anything more derogatory than 'Belgians'. But in the end we settled on three choices: number three ... 'The Sprouts', sent in by Mrs Vicious of Hastings... very nice; number two..... 'The Phlegms', from Mrs Childmolester of Worthing; but the winner was undoubtedly from Mrs No-Supper-For-You from Norwood in Lancashire... 'Miserable Fat Belgian Bastards'!

Announcer #1: The BBC would like to apologize to everyone in the world for that last item. It was disgusting and bad and thouroughly disobediant, and please don't bother to phone up because we know it was very tasteless, but they didn't really mean it and they all come from broken homes and have very unhappy personal lives, especially Eric. Anyway, they're all really nice people underneath, and very warm in the traditional show business way. And please don't write in either because the BBC is going through an unhappy phase at the moment, what with its father dying, and the mortgage, and BBC2 going out with men.

Announcer #2: The BBC would like to deny the last apology. It is very happy at home, and BBC2 is bound to go through this phase, so from all of us here, good night, sleep well, and have an absolutely super day tomorrow, kiss kiss.

Announcer: And the results of Epilogue: God exists by two falls to a submission.

Announcer: And we move to Bristol where they have a special, Very Silly candidate...
Election Offical: Malcolm Peter-Brian-Telescope-Adrian-Umbrella Stand-Jasper-Wednesday-[pop]-Stoat Gobbler-John-Raw Vegetable-[bark]-Arthur-Norman-Michael-[honk]-Featherstone-Smith-[whistle]-Northgot-Edwards-Harris-[bang]-WOOOOOO-Mason-chuffchuffchuffchuff-Frampton-Jones-Fruit Bat-Gilbert-we'll keep a welcome in the-[bang bang bang]-Williams-If I could Walk That Way-Jenkin-[vvvt vvt vvvt vvvvewwww]-Tiger Drawers-Pratt-Thompson-Raindrops keep falling on my head-Darcy-Carter-[honk]-Pussycat-Don't sleep in the subway-Barton-Mannering-[squeek]-mmmmm-Smith...
Anouncer: Very Silly Party.
Election Offical: Two votes.

Announcer: This man, he doesn't know when he's beaten! He doesn't know when he's winning, either. He has no�� sort of�� sensory apparatus��

Announcer: We would like to apologize for the way in which politicians are represented in this programme. It was never our intention to imply that politicians are weak-kneed, political time-servers who are more concerned with their personal vendettas and private power struggles than the problems of government. Nor to suggest at any point that they sacrifice their credibility by denying free debate on vital matters in the mistaken impression that party unity comes before the well-being of the people they supposedly represent. Nor to imply at any stage that they are squabbling little toadies without an ounce of concern for the vital social problems of today. Nor indeed do we intend that viewers should consider them as crabby, ulcerous, little self-seeking vermin with furry legs and an excessive addiction to alcohol and certain explicit sexual practices which some people might find offensive. We are sorry if this impression has come across.

Antoinette: Oh, Joseph! All you think about is balloons. All you talk about is balloons. Your beautiful house is full of bits and pieces of balloons. Your books are all about balloons, every time you sing a song, it is in some way obliquely connected with balloons... Everything you eat has to have "balloon" incorporated in the title. Your dogs are all called Balloono. You tie balloons to your ankles in the evenings!
Joseph Montgolfier: I don't do that!
Antoinette: Well, no, you don't do that. But you do duck down and shout, "Hey! Balloons!" when there are none about. Your whole life is becoming obsessively balloonic, you know... Oh-h-h! Why do I have to hang from this bloody gas bag all day?

Arthur Mee: Well, ladies and gentlemen, I don't think any of our contestants tonight succeeded in encapsulating the intricacies of Proust's masterwork. So, I'm going to give the award to the girl with the biggest tits.

Arthur Name: Here's a joke I heard down in the pub: what's brown, and sounds like a bell? Dung!

Arthur Nudge: Eh? know what I mean? Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge! Know what I mean? Say no more! A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat, say no more, say no more!
Man: Look, are you insinuating something?
Arthur Nudge: Oh, no no no no... yes.
Man: Well?
Arthur Nudge: Well, you're a man of the world, squire... you've been there, you've been around.
Man: What do you mean?
Arthur Nudge: Well, I mean, you've done it... you've slept... with a lady.
Man: Yes.
Arthur Nudge: What's it like?
Bicycle Repair Man

Arthur Wilson: [talking to George Head about the trek to Mt. Kilinmanjaro, after he explains about the route] Does anyone speak Swahili?
George Head: Oh, I think most of them do down there.
Arthur Wilson: Does anyone in our party speak Swahili, sir?
George Head: Well, the matron's got a smattering.
Arthur Wilson: Apart from the two matrons.
George Head: Good God! I forgot about that.
Arthur Wilson: Apart from them, who else is coming?
George Head: Well, we've got the Arthur Brown twins, two botanists called Maychen, the William Johnston brothers-
Arthur Wilson: Two of them?
George Head: No, four of them; pair of identical twins. And a couple of the Ken Zobana quads; the other four pulled out. And of course, you two.

Audrey: [as Arthur Name is getting drinks for everyone] Three cans of beans for me.
Mr. Equator: I told you to lay off the beans, you whore!
Audrey: I only want three cans!
Mr. Equator: BATTEN YOUR LIP, YOU RATBAG!! [both burst into hysterical laughter] That was rather witty, wasn't it?