Blackadder

Blackadder:
Baldrick, no! It's the worst plan since Abraham Lincoln said "Oh I'm sick of kicking around the house tonight, let's go take in a show!". For a start, General Melchett is in mourning for the woman of his dreams: he is unlikely to be in the mood to marry a two-legged badger wrapped in a curtain! Secondly, we are looking for a great entertainer, and you're the worst entertainer since Saint Paul the Evangelist toured Palestine with his trampoline act! No, we'll have to find somebody else.

George:
What about Corporal Cartwright, sir?

Blackadder:
Corporal Cartwright looks like an orangutan. I've heard of the bearded lady, but the all-over-body-hair lady frankly just isn't on!

George:
Willis?

Blackadder:
Too short.

George:
Petheridge?

Blackadder:
Too old.

George:
Taplow?

Blackadder:
Too dead. Oh, it's hopeless. There just isn't anyone!

[Bob is heard singing in the shower]

Blackadder:
[with renewed hope] What am I doing?! Bob!

Bob:
[enters wearing towels] Sir?

George:
[STILL not realising Bob is a girl] Sir, what a brilliant idea! Bob, can you think of anyone that could be our leading lady?