Blackadder

Baldrick: Shall I do my war poem, sir? Blackadder: How hurt will you be if I give the honest answer, which is, "No - I'd rather French-kiss a skunk?"

Blackadder: We've been sitting here since Christmas 1914, during which time millions of men have died, and we've moved no further than an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping.

Baldrick: I heard that [the war] started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich because he was hungry. Edmund: I think you mean it started when the Archduke of Austro-Hungary got shot. Baldrick: No, there was definitely an ostrich involved, sir.

George: The war started because of the vile Hun and his villainous empire-building. Edmund: George, the British Empire at present covers a quarter of the globe, while the German empire consists of a small sausage factory in Tanganyika. I hardly think that we can be entirely absolved from blame on the imperialistic front.. George: Oh, oh no, sir, absolutely not. (to Baldrick) Mad as a bicycle.

Baldrick: Well, the thing is, the way I see it, these days there's a war on, right? And ages ago there wasn't a war on, right? So there must have been a moment when there not being a war on went away, right? And there being a war on came along. So, what I want to know is, how did we get from the one case of affairs to the other case of affairs. {pause} Edmund: Do you mean, how did the war start? Baldrick: {thinks hard} Yeah.

Baldrick: Permission to ask a question, Sir. Edmund: Granted, as long as it's not the one about where babies come from.

Baldrick: Shall I do another [poem], sir? Blackadder: No, we wouldn't want to exhaust you. Baldrick: No, don't worry. I could go on all night. Blackadder: Not with a bayonet through your neck you couldn't!!

Captain Darling meets Blackadder in the trenches shortly before 'going over the top'. Captain Darling: I made a short note in my diary on the way over here. Simply says… 'Bugger.'

Blackadder: (upon realizing there is no way he can avoid going over the top) I think the phrase rhymes with "clucking bell".

Blackadder: (final words before going over the top) Good luck, everyone.

George: You know, I won't half miss you chaps after the war. Baldrick: Don't worry, Lieutenant; I'll come visit you. George: Will you really? Oh bravo! Yes, jump into the old jalopy and come down and stay in the country, and we can relive the old times. Blackadder: What, dig a hole in the garden, fill it with water, and get your gamekeeper to shoot at us all day?

Blackadder: Well, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was better than my plan to get out of this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman round here?

Blackadder: Well, George, I strongly suspect that your long wait for certain death is nearly at an end. Surely you must've noticed something in the air. George: Yes, of course, but I thought it was Private Baldrick.

Blackadder: Now ask me some simple questions. Baldrick: What is your name? Blackadder: Woobble. Baldrick: What is two plus two? Blackadder: Oh; woobble woobble. Baldrick: Where do you live? Blackadder: London. Baldrick: (looks confused) Eh? Blackadder: A small villageon Mars, just outside the capitol city of...Woobble.

Trench phone rings Blackadder: Hello? The Sommes Public Baths- no running, shouting, or piddling in the shallow end.

Blackadder: And Bumfluff himself? George: Copped a packet in Gallipolli with the Aussies. So did Drippy and Strangely Brown. I remember we heard on the first morning of the Sommes, when Titch and Mr. Ploppy got gassed back to Blighty. Blackadder: Which leaves? George: Gosh, yes. I, I suppose I'm the only one of the Trinity Tiddlers left alive. Blimey there's a thought and not a jolly one.

Blackadder: Oh, for God's sake George! How long have you been in the army? George: Me? I joined up straightaway. August 4, 1914; what a day that was. Myself and the rest of the fellows leap-frogged down to the Cambridge recruiting office and then playing tiddly-winks in the queue. We'd hammered Oxford's tiddly-winkers only the week before and there we were: off to hammer the Bosh! Crashingly superb bunch of blokes. Fine, clean-limbed; even our acne had a strange nobility about it. Blackadder: Yes. And how are all the boys now? George: Well, Jocko and The Badger bought it at the first Ypres unfortunately. What a shock that.

Blackadder: Baldrick, fix us some coffee will you? And try to make it taste slightly less like mud this time. Baldrick: It's not easy, I'm afraid, Captain. Blackadder: Why is this? Baldrick: It is mud. We ran out of coffee thirteen months ago. Blackadder: So everytime I've drunk your coffee since, I have, in fact, been drinking hot mud. Baldrick: With sugar. Blackadder: Which, of course, makes all the difference. Baldrick: Why, it would do, if we had any sugar, but unfortunately, we ran out New Year's Eve, 1915. Since then, I've been using sugar substitute. Blackadder: Which is? Baldrick: Dandruff. Blackadder: (disgusted and disheartened) Brilliant. Baldrick: Still, I could add some milk this time. (leans in) Well, saliva. Blackadder: No! No thank you, Baldrick; call me Mr. Picky, but I'll pass. Baldrick: That's probably 'cause you're mad!

George: (to Baldrick) Whatever you do, don't excite him. Blackadder: Fat chance.

Melchett: I'll just going to have to sit this one out on the touchline with the half-time oranges and the fat wheezy boys with a note from matron, while you young bloods link arms and go together for the glorious final scrum down.

Baldrick: 'Hear the words I sing,
War's a horrid thing,
But still I sing, sing, sing,
Ding a ling a ling.'

Blackadder: The real reason for the whole thing was that it was just too much effort not to have a war. George: By gum, this is interesting. I always loved history. The Battle of Hastings. Henry VIII and his six knives, all that. Blackadder: You see, Baldrick, in order to prevent war in Europe, two superblocks developed: us, the French and Russians on one side, and the Germans and Austro-Hungary on the other. The idea was to have two vast opposing armies, each acting as the other's deterrent. That way, there could never be a war. Baldrick: But this is sort of a war, isn't it, sir? Blackadder: Yes, that's right. You see, there was only one tiny flaw in the plan. George: What was that, sir? Blackadder: It was bollocks.

(While talking about what they've done since the war started.) Baldrick: Remember the football match? Blackadder: Remember it, how could I forget it? I was NEVER off-side I could not believe that decision.