Well, there's the two of us, and my friends Sam, Pippin and Merry.
Merry? What the fuck kind of name is Merry? I'm not having anyone with a fucking gay name like that in MY gang.
Actually Merry is just his nickname. His real name is Frobisher Dangletramp of Twindlewood.
Fuck that! He's not getting in MY fucking gang unless he changes his name to H-Doggg. And he has to provide his own fucking gat, and it better not be painted pink!
Piffle, my good man. The HMS Titanic can withstand any impact, especially from something as pitiful as an iceberg.
But Captain. According to the news, there's a rogue Soviet nuclear submarine out there with the ability to disguise itself as an iceberg. I say we change course, it's not worth the risk.
But you would say that, wouldn't you John? Or should I say Mr Groznov? I'm on to you, you filthy Commie!
What the hell are you talking about, Captain? Have you been at the rum again?
What happened to you, Farmer Giles? You look like you've just gone ten rounds with Muhammed Ali-en.
I've just spent the morning trying to milk the thargon space cow. It wouldn't keep still, and all I got at the end of it was this quart of strangely thick milk.
That cow over there?
Yep, ol' Bessie.
Dude, that's the male cow.
That would explain why, when I gave some of the milk to my daughter to drink, she spat it straight out.
I really can't be bothered with this, Brigadier. I mean, one trillion dollars, is it really worth it?
Look, Corporal, I didn't spend years and years planning this master heist for you to chicken out.
Brigadier, that was the least pathetic pun I ever heard.
Thank you Colonel. You're the best Colonel in the whole entire universe, of which I am the supreme ruler. Now here's the plan...
The corner shop is just across the street. It is guarded by four million trained mercenaries, with special rail guns like the one Arnie had in the film "Eraser".
This all sounds too much like excessive strenuous hard work. Can't we just rob an ATM machine?
This is all your fucking fault. Now that cunt Potter's after me. I ought to take you back to that fucking karaoke bar and leave you for the fat housewives to drool over.
My fault? You're the one who murderised his wife. All I wanted was to make some cash to spend on smokes, strippers and booze.
Mike, where the fuck did you find this mook, and how the fuck is he going to save us from Potter's rampage?
Relax, Javier. They say that music can sooth the savage beast, so I've hired Darius to sing calming songs to Harry. I told him if he helped us, you'd use your powers to make him famous.