When the Wind Blows

Hilda: The grass looks a funny color.
Jim: Yes. I'll pop down to Mr. Sponge's tomorrow and get some bone meal and dried blood.
Hilda: He may be closed due to the bomb dear.
Jim: What, old Sponge? Heh heh. Miss a day's trade? Oh not him. He'd rather die.

Jim: We must keep abreast of the international situation, Love. See, the decisions made by the powers-that-be will get to us in the end.

Hilda: Look! My hair's coming out.
Jim: Don't, don't, don't worry, Dearest! Don't worry! Don't worry! Women don't go bald. No! That's a... that's a scientific fact.

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