Sadie Tompkins:
Have you got a large one?

Vic Flange:
I've had no complaints so far.

Sadie Tompkins:
Seeing's believing...

Vic Flange:
You won't need a magnifying glass!

Vic Flange:
There you are... no, no, have it on me - if you know what I mean!

Sadie Tompkins:
Oh, you don't have to draw me any diagrams!

Vic Flange:
Pity - I was just going to get my ballpoint out!

Stuart Farquhar:
My name is Stuart Farquhar, the representative of Wundatours.

Pepe:
Stupid what?

Stuart Farquhar:
STUART! STUART FARQUHAR!

Pepe:
Ahh, you Mr. Farqiarse.

Cora Flange:
You filthy rotten stinking beast.

Vic Flange:
What have I done now?

Cora Flange:
Don't you come the innocent with me. You and that Sadie Tomkins..."Are you going on the same trip too? Oh well fancy that, yes fancy that." Well, I don't fancy that AT ALL!

Vic Flange:
Oh, have a heart, darling, you know I need this holiday. You wouldn't want me to go without it just because she's going to be there.

Cora Flange:
If she's going to be there, you won't be going without it!

Stuart Farquhar:
Afternoon, Miss Dobbs, a lovely day for it.

Miss Dobbs:
That's what they all say, Mr Farquhar, but it won't get you anywhere.

Stuart Farquhar:
I meant for the Elsbels trip, Miss Dobbs.

Vic Flange:
Lovely day for it!

Miss Dobbs:
That's what they all say...

Stuart Farquhar:
Please, Miss Plunkett, you're squashing my itinerary.

Moira Plunkett:
Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I keep on forgetting what a big girl I am now.

Stuart Farquhar:
Quite, shall we get them out now?

Moira Plunkett:
Why, Mr Farquhar!

Stuart Farquhar:
The people for the coach, I mean.

Moira Plunkett:
Oh, those. Yes, of course.

Tuttle's Mother:
Oh. I meant to tell you, dear, keep your woolly vest on, even at night...

Eustace Tuttle:
Yes, Mummy - and goodbye.

Tuttle's Mother:
...and when you do go, always put plenty of paper down first.

Pepe:
It's very lovings, no?

Stuart Farquhar:
I beg your pardon, oh you mean lovely, oh yes very nice.

Pepe:
It's all brand news, tables not sat in, chairs not sat in, lavatory not sat...

Stuart Farquhar:
Yes, we needn't go into all that.

Evelyn Blunt:
I, for one, think it was absolutely outrageous, asking us to share a room just because we're married.

Stanley Blunt:
I don't know, dear, I thought it was quite reasonable under the circumstances.

Evelyn Blunt:
Not for me thank you.

Vic Flange:
Oh. Don't drink?

Evelyn Blunt:
No, I tried it once and didn't like it.

Vic Flange:
Smoke?

Evelyn Blunt:
I tried it once and didn't like it.

Vic Flange:
Strange.

Evelyn Blunt:
Not at all, my daughter is just the same.

Vic Flange:
Your only child, I presume!

Postcard Seller:
Excuse me, mister - you like postcards? Very interesting!

Stuart Farquhar:
Oh yes - Miss Plunkett, didn't you want a postcard to send to your mother?

Stuart Farquhar:
OOOOOOHHH.

Moira Plunkett:
Any good?

Stuart Farquhar:
No, I'm afraid they're quite unsuitable.

Moira Plunkett:
Oh, are they naughty ones? Do let me see.

Stuart Farquhar:
Certainly not.

Floella:
Sure! - with no blooding food and no blooding staff!

Bert Conway:
Hey, son, hey! Is this for the dirty weekend?

Stuart Farquhar:
This is the four-day trip to Elsbels, if that's what you mean?

Bert Conway:
Same difference, isn't it?

Stuart Farquhar:
Have you got a ticket?

Bert Conway:
Certainly. I don't expect to get it for nothing - not the holiday anyway!

Georgio:
A beautiful wine for a beautiful lady...

Evelyn Blunt:
Was that supposed to be a compliment?

Stanley Blunt:
Better taste the wine first.

Robin:
Come along, Nicholas, you promised to help me do my hair.

Nicholas:
Oh, push off!

Marge:
I hope there's some young ones!

Lily:
Oh stop worrying, Marge, they told me there was a big party of young blokes coming.

Marge:
I certainly hope so.

Sadie Tompkins:
Don't you understand? I don't want just a quick roll in the hay. I need something that's going to last.

Bert Conway:
Who says it's not going to last? We don't go home until tomorrow afternoon.

Brother Bernard:
Morning. I'd just like to apologise to your friend about her skirt last night.

Marge:
Oh, forget it. Sssh... Why don't you get your clothes off and get some sun?

Brother Bernard:
Oh no, I couldn't do that.

Harry:
I hear you're going on your holiday tomorrow then?

Vic Flange:
Just a weekend.

Harry:
All right for some, you taking the missus too?

Vic Flange:
No, she won't go abroad. Doesn't like flying, do you, love?

Cora Flange:
All the same, if I did, someone has to look after the pub.

Vic Flange:
It's one of them new package deals. 17 quid, all in.

Harry:
Where are you going to?

Vic Flange:
Oh, some new resort in the Med.

Cora Flange:
Oh, for Heaven's sake, Vic, why don't you tell him? Its a place called Elsbels.

Harry:
Elsbels? The island?

Vic Flange:
Yes.

Harry:
Tomorrow?

Vic Flange:
Yes.

Harry:
Blimey, there's a coincidence for you.

Vic Flange:
What is?

Harry:
Sadie's going on the same trip!

Cora Flange:
Coach? I though we were going by air?

Vic Flange:
We have to go in the coach to get to the airport!

Cora Flange:
But you didn't say anything about coaches; I don't like going in them either.

Vic Flange:
Oh, gawd blimey. You're determined to have a good time aren't you?

Bert Conway:
Where's all the crumpet?

Eustace Tuttle:
I don't think they give us any tea!

Moira Plunkett:
I wonder what this is? Santa Cecilia's Exlixir.

Vic Flange:
Oh, some local quack medicine, I suppose.

Stall-Holder:
Oh no, sir, is not medicine. Is for l'amoura.

Vic Flange:
Pardon?

Stall-Holder:
Liqueur - for making plenty of passion!

Vic Flange:
Get away!

Madame Fifi:
Dirty pig, you insult-a my fine ladies!

Eustace Tuttle:
We were only playing leap frog!