Natalie: Hello, David. I mean "sir." Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. Oh, and now I've gone and said "shit" - twice. I'm so sorry, sir.
Prime Minister: It's fine, it's fine. You could've said "fuck", and then we'd have been in real trouble.
Natalie: Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition that I was going to fuck up on the first day. Oh, piss it!
Harry: Tell me, exactly, how long it is that you've been working here?
Sarah: Two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, what, two hours?
Harry: And how long have you been in love with Karl, our enigmatic chief designer?
Sarah: Ahm, two years, seven months, three days and, I suppose, an hour and thirty minutes.
Harry: I thought as much.
Sarah: Do you think everybody knows?
Sarah: Do you think Karl knows?
Sarah: Oh that is bad news.
Harry: Well I just thought maybe the time had come to do something about it.
Sarah: Like what?
Harry: Invite him out for a drink and then after about twenty minutes casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies.
Karen: Tell me, what would you do in my position?
Harry: What position is that?
Karen: Imagine your husband bought a gold necklace and come Christmas gave it to somebody else...
Harry: Oh, Karen...
Karen: Would you wait around to find out if it's just a necklace, or if it's sex and a necklace, or if worst of all it's a necklace and love? Would you stay, knowing life would always be a little bit worse? Or would you cut and run?
Harry: Oh, God. I am so in the wrong. The classic fool.
Karen: Yes, but you've also made a fool out of me, and you've made the life I lead foolish too.
Karen: The trouble with being the Prime Minister's sister is it does put your life into rather harsh perspective. What did my brother do today? He stood up and fought for his country. And what did I do? I made a papier-maché lobster head.
DJ: Well. Thanks for that, Bill.
Billy Mack: For what?
DJ: Well, for actually giving a real answer to a question. Doesn't often happen here on "Radio Watford" I can tell you.
Billy Mack: Ask me anything you like, I'll tell you the truth.
DJ: Uh... Best shag you've ever had?
Billy Mack: Britney Spears.
Billy Mack: No, only kidding. She was rubbish.
Colin: I am Colin. God of Sex. I'm just on the wrong continent, that's all.
Natalie: He says no one's going to fancy a girl with thighs the size of big tree trunks. Not a nice guy, actually, in the end.
Prime Minister: Right. Goodness. Well, well. You know, being Prime Minister, I could just have him murdered.
Natalie: Thank you, sir. I'll think about it.
Prime Minister: Do. The SAS are absolutely charming. Ruthless trained killers are just a phone call away.
Parkinson: This must be a very exciting moment for you, fighting for the Christmas number one. How's it looking so far?
Billy Mack: Very bad indeed. Blue are outselling me five to one. But I'm hoping for a late surge. And if I reach number one, I promise to sing the song stark naked on TV on Christmas Eve.
Parkinson: Do you mean that?
Billy Mack: Well of course I mean it. Do you want a preview? You old flirt.
Juliet: We've never got friendly. I just wanted to say I hope that can change. I'm nice, I really am, apart from my terrible taste in pie. And it would be great if we could be friends.
Dec: Billy, I believe you've brought a prize for our competition winners.
Billy Mack: Yes I have, Ant or Dec. It's a personalised felt tip pen.
Billy Mack: Hiya kids. Here is an important message from your Uncle Bill. Don't buy drugs. Become a pop star, and they give you them for free.