Blackadder:
I have come up with a plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel.
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Baldrick:
Morning, Mr. B.
Blackadder:
Leave me alone, Baldrick. If I wanted to talk to a vegetable, I would have bought one at the market.
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Baldrick:
[Blackadder slams the door] Something wrong, Mr. B?
Blackadder:
Oh, something's *always* wrong, Balders... the fact that I'm not a millionaire aristocrat, with the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino, is a constant niggle.
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