Waiting for God1990

[last lines]

Diana:
Now, I have something to say to the elderly everywhere. Listen, you lot. Now, this isn't TV, this is real life; I am talking to you personally, so pin 'em back and listen up. We, the elderly, my contemporaries, we had all our years of morality and decent behaviour formed in a different time on a different planet, before and during the War, in the nice old fifties when we warmed our feet at coal fires and listened to friendly folk on the Bakelite radios. Well, wake up, my old parrots. Because we have bred a race of bloody little monsters who are so lacking in any form of recognizable moral standards and so consumed with greed and material lusts that they'll chop you up and microwave you as soon as look at you. You just learn one thing today: the paths of justice and legality rarely run parallel. So never sign anything, hmph. I don't care it it comes from your favourite grandchild or a bearded bloke lugging a wooden cross through your living room; never sign anything, until you have had it checked by Messrs Shunky and Shyster, your friendly local solicitors. Or I personally will come round and set fire to your perms. You know that, hm? Don't sign!

Dave Preston:
Ah, Mr Ballard, do you have anything to add to that?

Tom:
I certainly do. As well as never signing funny forms, I would also add that you should never climb Everest after a heavy lunch. A chair under the stroboscope, with a glass of port and a good Trollope. That is the nineteenth century writer Anthony Trollope, not Miss Lola Montezuma of Boney Lane, and- argh...