John Cleese: Basil Fawlty

Basil the Rat

Basil Fawlty

Mr. Carnegie: I think these premises do not come up to the standard required by this authority. Unless appropriate steps are taken instantly, I shall have no alternative but to prosecute or recommend closure to the appropriate committee of the council, uh, specifically: The lack of proper cleaning routines, dirty and greasy filters, greasy and encrusted deep fat fryer, dirty, cracked and stained food preparation surfaces, dirty, cracked and missing wall and floor tiles, dirty, marked and stained utensils, dirty and greasy interior surfaces of the ventilator hood...
Basil Fawlty: Yes, about the deep fat fryer...
Mr. Carnegie: ...inadequate temperature control and storage of dangerous foodstuffs, storage of cooked and raw meat in same trays, storage of raw meat above confectionery with consequent dripping of meat juices onto cream products, refrigerator seals loose and cracked, ice box undefrosted, and refrigerator overstocked...
Basil Fawlty: Yes, say no more.
Mr. Carnegie: ...um, food handling routines suspect, evidence of smoking in food preparation area, dirty and grubby food handling overall, lack of wash hand basin - which you gave us a verbal assurance you'dhave installed at our last visit six months ago - and two dead pigeons in the water tank.
Basil Fawlty: Otherwise O.K.?

Basil Fawlty: Manuel... my wife informs me that you're... depressed. Let me tell you something. Depression is a very bad thing. It's like a virus. If you don't stamp on it, it spreads throughout the mind, and then one day you wake up in the morning and you... you can't face life anymore!
Sybil Fawlty: And then you open a hotel.

Basil Fawlty: Is NOT hamster! Hamsters are small and cuddly! Cuddle this, you'd never play the guitar again!

[Terry is examining a piece of possibly-poisoned veal the cat had been chewing on]
Terry: Right! Now, how's the cat?
Basil Fawlty: [Incredulously] How's the c...? How's the cat? We're about to take the life of a public health inspector and you want to know "how's the cat"? IT'S GONE TO LONDON TO SEE THE QUEEN! What're we going to do?
Polly: [bringing in the cat] He's fine!
Terry: Great!
Basil Fawlty: [leaping about hysterically] HOORAY! HOORAY! THE CAT LIVES! THE CAT LIVES! LONG LIVE THE CAT! What are we going to DO?
Terry: Mr. Fawlty - if the cat is all right, that means that slice is all right.

Ronald: Look, I was just trying to give an order to your waiter and he walked away while I was doing it.
Basil Fawlty: Hm?
Ronald: Well, he wasn't paying attention at all.
Basil Fawlty: I'm so sorry. What were you saying?
Ronald: The waiter wasn't listening when I was giving him our order. He seemed more interested in my fiancée's legs.
Basil Fawlty: Really? May I?
[Basil and Manuel look intently under the table in the area of his fiancée's legs]

Major Gowen: But they spread disease, Fawlty! He was sitting there, on that table! Eating the nuts, if you please!
Basil Fawlty: [to himself] He's really gone this time...
Major Gowen: [measuring the length with his hands] It was like that, about that size.
Major Gowen: [widening the length] That, with a tail.
Basil Fawlty: [confused] I'm sorry? What did you say it was?
Major Gowen: Vermin. A dirty rat!

Sybil Fawlty: [about Manuel's rat] Perhaps it would be simplest to have him put to S-L-E-E-P.
Basil Fawlty: Who? Him or the rat? Might get a discount if we have them both done.
Manuel: 'Spleep'?

Basil Fawlty: I'll put an ad in the papers: "Wanted, kind home for enormous savage rodent. Answers to the name of Sybil."

[Polly, with a piece of cheese, is looking for Basil the Rat under a table]
Polly: Basil. Basil? Cheesies! Basil...
Basil Fawlty: [coming up behind her] Yes?
[Polly bangs her head beneath the table]
Basil Fawlty: Here I am.
Polly: [coming out from under the table] Oh, Mr. Fawlty I...
Basil Fawlty: [taking the cheese] Oh, that's for me, is it? Thank you.
Polly: [as he eats it] Shall I get you some more? There's plenty...
Basil Fawlty: He's called "Basil," is he? Don't play dumb with me. I trusted you. You're responsible for this!

Sybil Fawlty: They all said, at one time or another, how on Earth did the two of us ever get together. "Black magic," my mother says.
Basil Fawlty: Well, she'd know, wouldn't she? Her and that cat.

Basil Fawlty: Well, of course it's a rat. You have rats in Spain, don't you? Or did Franco have 'em all shot?

[Basil finds someone going through the food in the kitchen]
Basil Fawlty: Sybil, may I introduce the gentleman who's just opened the self-service department here. Mr...?
Mr. Carnegie: Carnegie.
Basil Fawlty: Mr. Carnegie, the scavenger gourmet from...?
Mr. Carnegie: The Public Health department.

Ronald: Don't shush me!
Basil Fawlty: Well, I'm sorry, but th-th-th-the veal is, in fact, off. Well, it was never really on, quite honestly - that's a misprint.
Ronald: A misprint?
Basil Fawlty: Yes, it should say um... eel.
Ronald: Eel Escalope?

[the Major is in the bar with a rifle, stalking a rat. Basil is behind him, unaware of what the Major is doing]
Basil Fawlty: Do you need any help, Major?
Major Gowen: Don't move!
[Points the rifle at Basil]
Major Gowen: ...Vermin.
[Basil mishears and rolls eyes]
Basil Fawlty: We haven't got any this week, Major.
Major Gowen: Hm?
Basil Fawlty: No Germans staying this week, Major.

Basil Fawlty: Can't we get you on Mastermind, Sybil? Next contestant: Mrs. Sybil Fawlty from Torquay. Specialist subject - the bleeding obvious.

Basil Fawlty: Look at it from the point of view of the rat.
Sybil Fawlty: What?
Basil Fawlty: Well, would you want to spend the rest of your life with Manuel waiting on you?

Mrs. Taylor: That's veal?
Basil Fawlty: No, no, this is... veal substitute. We're giving it a try, and it's a bit of a disappointment, I'm afraid. In fact, it's no substitute at all.