Basil Fawlty:
Polly, what's that smell?
Polly:
Flowers, I just got them from the garden.
Basil Fawlty:
Well, what are you stinking the place up with those for? What's happened to the plastic ones?
Polly:
Being ironed.
Basil Fawlty:
You'll have to forgive him. He's from Barcelona.
Basil Fawlty:
Right, well I'll go and have a lie down then. No I won't; I'll go and hit some guests.
Manuel:
[
to garden gnome] No Room 16 for you!
Basil Fawlty:
Manuel will show you to your rooms - if you're lucky.
Sybil Fawlty:
[
on the phone] I know... I know... I know... Oh, I know!
Basil Fawlty:
Then why is she telling you?
Basil Fawlty:
This is typical. Absolutely typical... of the kind of...
[
shouting]
Basil Fawlty:
ARSE I have to put up with from you people. You ponce in here expecting to be waited on hand and foot, while I'm trying to run a hotel here. Have you any idea of how much there is to do? Do you ever think of that? Of course not, you're all too busy sticking your noses into every corner, poking around for things to complain about, aren't you? Well let me tell you something - this is exactly how Nazi Germany started. A lot of layabouts with nothing better to do than to cause trouble. Well I've had fifteen years of pandering to the likes of you, and I've had enough. I've had it. Come on, pack your bags and get out.
Basil Fawlty:
[
to telephone operator] I've been trying to get through to the speaking clock... Well, it's engaged... Well, it's been engaged for ten minutes. How is this possible? My wife isn't talking to it.
Basil Fawlty:
Ah, Manuel? There is too much butter on those trays.
Manuel:
Que?
Basil Fawlty:
[
speaking slowly] There is too much butter on those trays.
Manuel:
Ah, no senor. No "on those trays"...
[
counting the trays]
Manuel:
"uno, dos, tres".
Basil Fawlty:
Your *name*, please, could I have your name?
Lord Melbury:
Melbury.
[
the phone rings; Basil picks it up]
Basil Fawlty:
[
to Melbury] One second please.
[
to phone]
Basil Fawlty:
Hello?... Ah, yes Mr O'Reilly, well it's perfectly simple. When I asked you to build me a wall I was rather hoping that instead of just dumping the bricks in a pile you might have found time to cement them together... you know, one on top of another, in the traditional fashion.
[
to Melbury, testily]
Basil Fawlty:
Could you fill it in, please?
[
to phone]
Basil Fawlty:
Oh, splendid! Ah, yes, but *when*, Mr O'Reilly?
[
to Melbury, who is having difficulty with the register]
Basil Fawlty:
there - there!
[
to phone]
Basil Fawlty:
Yes, but when? Yes, yes... ah!... the flu!
[
to Melbury]
Basil Fawlty:
*Both* names, please.
[
to phone]
Basil Fawlty:
Yes, I should have guessed, Mr. O'Reilly that and the potato famine I suppose...
Lord Melbury:
I beg your pardon?
Basil Fawlty:
Would you put *both* your names, please?...
[
to phone]
Basil Fawlty:
Well, will you give me a *date*?
Lord Melbury:
Er... I only use one.
Basil Fawlty:
[
with a withering look] You don't have a first name?
Lord Melbury:
No, I am *Lord* Melbury, so I simply sign myself "Melbury".
[
there is a long, long pause]
Basil Fawlty:
[
to phone] Go away.
[
puts phone down]
Basil Fawlty:
... I'm *so* sorry to have kept you waiting, your lordship... I *do* apologize, *please* forgive me. Now, was there something, is there something, anything, I can do for you? Anything at all?
Basil Fawlty:
Coming my little piranha fish.
Basil Fawlty:
[
about Sybil's laugh] Sounds like somebody machine-gunning a seal.
[
Basil has taken the lamb dishes out of the kitchen to greet Mrs. Hamilton at reception]
Mr. Johnston:
[
Re: Lamb dishes] Have you finished with those yet?
Basil Fawlty:
Oh absolutely. Bon Appétit
[
makes rude farting sound]
Mr. Johnston:
[
to Mrs. Hamilton] I recommend the self-service here. It's excellent.
Basil Fawlty:
Your lambs will be getting cold, Mr. Johnston.
Mr. Johnston:
*Colder*
Basil Fawlty:
If you'd like them warmed up...
Mr. Johnston:
Forget it
[
he goes back into the dining room]
Basil Fawlty:
...you can get your wife to sit on em'!
Basil Fawlty:
[
to Mrs. Hamilton] I'm so sorry at the RUBBISH we get in here.
Basil Fawlty:
We have a Spanish porter at the moment, he's from Barcelona. It'd be quicker to train an *ape*!
Basil Fawlty:
[
to Manuel] Stupidissimo! Continental cretin!
[
Basil has accidentally set off the burglar alarm during the fire drill, guests start walking out of the building thinking it's the fire alarm, but Basil stops them all in the lobby]
Mrs. Wilson:
Oh I thought that was the drill.
Basil Fawlty:
Yes there is, at twelve o'clock.
Mrs. Wilson:
But, it is twelve o'clock.
Basil Fawlty:
Well not quite.
[
to guests that try to leave]
Basil Fawlty:
Excuse me!
Mrs. Wilson:
Well, I make it twelve o'clock.
Basil Fawlty:
[
to guests] Im afraid that wasn't the...
Mrs. Wilson:
What time do you make it, Major?
Basil Fawlty:
[
annoyed] Look...
Major Gowen:
Burglars about, I think.
Basil Fawlty:
Look, it doesn't matter what time he makes it, it hasn't started yet.
Mrs. Sharp:
What?
Basil Fawlty:
It hasn't started yet!
Mrs. Sharp:
But, that was the bell wasn't it?
Basil Fawlty:
No!
Mrs. Wilson:
He means the *drill* hasn't started yet.
Mr. Sharp:
What drill? We didn't hear a drill.
Basil Fawlty:
[
trying to explain] No, no no no, look, look - that was the burglar alarm.
Major Gowen:
See!
Mrs. Wilson:
The burglar alarm?
Basil Fawlty:
Yes!
Mrs. Wilson:
Are there burglars?
Major Gowen:
Evidently!
Basil Fawlty:
[
increasingly annoyed] No! Look, what's the matter with you all? It's perfectly simple: we have the fire drill when I ring the fire bell- That wasn't the fire bell!
Mr. Sharp:
Well, how are we supposed to know that wasn't the fire bell?
Basil Fawlty:
Because, it doesn't sound like the fire bell.
All guests at once:
It did.
Basil Fawlty:
It didn't!
Basil Fawlty:
So this Finnish floozy is your karate teacher is she?
Terry:
Well. It's a sort of karate isn't it?
Miss Gatsby:
And don't do anything *we* wouldn't do!
Basil Fawlty:
Oh, just a little breathing, surely.
Basil Fawlty:
Can we get you something else Mr. Hutchinson? A tea cosy for your pepper pot perhaps?
Basil Fawlty:
Where's Sybil?
Manuel:
¿Que?
Basil Fawlty:
Where's Sybil?
Manuel:
Where's... the bill?
Basil Fawlty:
No, not a bill! I own the place!
Manuel:
Ohh, he hit me on the head.
Major Gowen:
No! You hit him on the head. You naughty moose.
German Guest:
However did they win?
Basil Fawlty:
If you bother me again I shall visit you in the small hours of the night and put a bat up your nightdress.
Basil Fawlty:
[
overseeing dinner, he approaches a table where Mrs. Heath is eating with her son Ronald] Everything all right here?
Mrs. Heath:
Well...
Master Heath:
[
cutting in] I don't like the chips. The chips are awful.
Basil Fawlty:
Really? How so?
Master Heath:
They're the wrong shape and they're just awful.
Mrs. Heath:
Ah, he's very clever... rather highly strung.
Basil Fawlty:
[
forcing himself to smile] Highly strung... Yes, he should be.
Master Heath:
[
to Basil] These eggs look like *you* laid them. Haven't you got any *proper* chips?
Basil Fawlty:
These *are* proper French-fried potatoes. The chef is Continental.
Master Heath:
Couldn't you get an English one?
Mrs. Heath:
Why don't you just eat one or two, dear?
Master Heath:
Because they're the wrong *shape*.
Basil Fawlty:
Oh, my... What shape do you prefer? Mickey Mouse shape? Smarties shape? Amphibious landing-craft shape? Poke-in-the-eye shape?
Master Heath:
God, you're dumb.
Basil Fawlty:
[
gritting his teeth] Is there anything else we can get you, *sonny*?
Master Heath:
I'd like some bread and salad cream.
Basil Fawlty:
Well, there's the bread, and there's the mayonnaise.
Master Heath:
I said *salad cream*, stupid.
Basil Fawlty:
We don't *have* any salad cream.
Master Heath:
What a *dump*.
Basil Fawlty:
...The chef made that mayonnaise fresh this morning.
Master Heath:
That's *puke*, that is.
Basil Fawlty:
Well, at least it's *fresh* puke!
Mr. Arrad:
Excuse me.
Basil Fawlty:
Yes?
Mr. Arrad:
Look, we've been waiting here for about half an hour now, I mean I gave the waiter our order...
Basil Fawlty:
Oh, *him*. He's hopeless, isn't he?
Mr. Arrad:
Yes, well I don't wish to complain, but when he does bring something he's got it wrong.
Basil Fawlty:
You think I don't know? I mean, you only have to eat here. We have to live with it. I had to pay his fare all the way from Barcelona, but you can't get the staff you see. It's a nightmare.
Mrs. Arrad:
You were supposed to be complaining to *him*.
Sybil Fawlty:
And try and find time to put that moose's head on the wall.
Basil Fawlty:
Yes.
Sybil Fawlty:
It's been sitting there for two weeks Basil. I don't know why you bought it.
Basil Fawlty:
It will give the lobby a certain ambiance, it has a touch of style about it.
Sybil Fawlty:
It has a touch of mange about it.
Basil Fawlty:
That is not so.
Sybil Fawlty:
It's got things living in it Basil, it's nasty.
Basil Fawlty:
It is not nasty, it's superb.
Sybil Fawlty:
I am not going to argue with you, just get it up out of the way I don't want to snag any more cardis on it.
[
talking to a nurse]
Basil Fawlty:
Why *do* they call you sister? Is it a term of endearment?
Basil Fawlty:
Next contestant, Mrs. Sybil Fawlty from Torquay. Specialist subject - the bleeding obvious.
Basil Fawlty:
[
to Polly] Oh, it's my fault is it? I thought it was your fault for falling asleep or Manuel's fault for not waking you, and all the while it was * my* fault. Oh, it's so obvious now I've seen the light! Well, I must be punished then, mustn't I?
[
spanking himself]
Basil Fawlty:
You naughty boy!
Basil Fawlty:
Don't be alarmed, it's only my wife laughing.
Basil Fawlty:
Do you remember when we were first *manacled* together? We used to laugh quite a lot.
Sybil Fawlty:
Yes, but not at the same time, Basil.
Sybil Fawlty:
[
to a customer who has just given Basil a tip for a horse race] Basil doesn't bet on the horses anymore,
[
to Basil]
Sybil Fawlty:
do you?
Basil Fawlty:
No, that particular avenue of pleasure has been closed off.
Sybil Fawlty:
And we don't want it opened up again, do we?
Basil Fawlty:
No, you don't dear.
Basil Fawlty:
[
to Sybil, while having dinner] Why don't you have another vat of wine, dear?
Basil Fawlty:
Manuel, go and get me a hammer
Manuel:
Que?
Basil Fawlty:
A... hammer
Manuel:
Ahhhhh, a hammer sandwich!
Basil Fawlty:
Oh, must we go through this every time? A hammer.
Manuel:
You want to see my hamster?
Basil Fawlty:
No, not your hamster. How could I knock a nail in with a hamster? Well... I could try, couldn't I?
[
walks away]
Basil Fawlty:
Get a hhhammer and hhhit you on the hhhead with it.
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