John Cleese credited as playing...
Basil Fawlty
- Sybil Fawlty: Are you still here, Basil?
- Basil Fawlty: No, I went a couple minutes ago, dear, but I expect I'll be back shortly.
- Basil Fawlty: [overseeing dinner service, he approaches a table where the Heaths are eating] Good evening. Everything to your satisfaction?
- Mr. Heath: Oh...
- Mrs. Hall: Well, uh...
- Master Heath: [cutting in] I don't like the chips.
- Basil Fawlty: Sorry.
- Master Heath: The chips are awful.
- Basil Fawlty: Oh, dear. What's, uh, what's wrong with them, then?
- Master Heath: They're the wrong shape and they're just awful.
- Mrs. Hall: I'm afraid he gets everything cooked the way he likes it at home.
- Basil Fawlty: Ah, he does, does he?
- Master Heath: Yes, I do, and it's better than this pig's garbage.
- Mrs. Hall: Now, Ronald!
- Master Heath: [to Basil] These eggs look like YOU laid them.
- Mrs. Hall: Ronald!
- Mr. Heath: [to Ronald] Now look-look-look here, old chap...
- Mrs. Hall: [severely to Mr. Heath] Shut up! Leave him alone!
- Mrs. Hall: [sweetly to Basil] He's very clever... rather highly strung.
- Basil Fawlty: [forcing himself to smile] Yes... Yes, he should be.
- Polly: [trying to clue Basil unto a problem while in front of his guests] It's Kurt.
- Basil Fawlty: Yes?
- Polly: He's POTTED... the shimps.
- Basil Fawlty: What?
- Polly: He's POTTED... the shimps.
- Basil Fawlty: Shrimps? We're not having shrimps tonight, Polly. Now, if you would...
- Polly: He's SOUSED... the herrings.
- Basil Fawlty: What're you on about?
- Polly: He's PICKED the onions and he's SMASHED the eggs IN HIS CUPS, UNDER THE TABLE.
- Sybil Fawlty: [talking about the best time to hold Gourmet Night] Andre thinks Thursday nights would be best.
- Basil Fawlty: Thursdays?
- André: I think so.
- Basil Fawlty: Right. And on the other nights we'll just have a big trough of baked beans and garnish it with a couple dead dogs.
- [Basil learns of Kurt's crush on Manuel]
- Basil Fawlty: I should never have hired a Frenchman.
- Polly: He's Greek, Mr. Fawlty.
- Basil Fawlty: Greek?
- Polly: Of course.
- Basil Fawlty: Well, that's even worse. I mean, they invented it.
- [Basil's car won't start]
- Basil Fawlty: START! Start, you vicious bastard! Come on! Oh, my God! I'm warning you, if you don't start...! I'll count to three: 1... 2... 3! Right, that's it! I've had enough!
- [Gets out]
- Basil Fawlty: You treaded on just once too often! Right! Well, don't say I haven't warned you! I've laid it on the line for you time and time again! Right! So, this is it! I'm gonna give you a damn good thrashing!
- Basil Fawlty: [to Sybil, while having dinner] Well, I better go and have a word with the guests. Why don't you have another vat of wine, dear?
- Mrs. Hall: [screams of disgust] Aaargh! Oooh!
- Colonel Hall: What is it, Pebbles? What's the matter?
- Basil Fawlty: Is everything alright?
- Mrs. Hall: Oh, I think I am going to be sick!
- Basil Fawlty: It is an unusual taste, isn't it?
- Mrs. Hall: It is not cooked, you ignoramus!
- Colonel Hall: What are you trying to do to us, Fawlty? Do you mean that's raw?
- Basil Fawlty: Oh, would you prefer a cooked one?
- Colonel Hall: Of course she would prefer a cooked one!
- Basil Fawlty: Well, so much for tonight's guests. Ignorant rabble.
- André: Oh, there's always a few, Mr Fawlty.
- Basil Fawlty: Well, not on Gourmet Night there won't be. None of those proles!
- Basil Fawlty: Where's Sybil?
- Manuel: ¿Que?
- Basil Fawlty: Where's Sy-bil?
- Manuel: Where's... the bill?
- Basil Fawlty: No, no, not a bill! I own the place!
- Basil Fawlty: [Frantically typing at a typewriter] He's out! He's flat out! So André's, uh...
- Sybil Fawlty: Who is?
- Basil Fawlty: What!
- Sybil Fawlty: Who ls out?
- Basil Fawlty: Kurt! Who do you think, Henry Kissinger?
- Sybil Fawlty: What do you mean "out"?
- Basil Fawlty: He's *drunk*!
- Sybil Fawlty: Drunk?
- Basil Fawlty: Drunk! Soused! Potted! Inebriated! Got it?
- Sybil Fawlty: I don't believe it.
- Basil Fawlty: [Still typing frantically] Neither do I. Perhaps it's a dream.
- [Smacks his head three times on desk]
- Basil Fawlty: No, it's not a dream; we're stuck with it. Right!
- Basil Fawlty: So, uh, this is your new menu.
- Colonel Hall: [reading] Duck with orange; duck with cherries; duck surprise.
- Mrs. Hall: What's duck surprise?
- Basil Fawlty: Er... that's duck without orange or cherries.
- Colonel Hall: I mean, is this all there is - duck?
- Basil Fawlty: Umm... yes... done, of course, in three extremely different ways.
- Colonel Hall: And what do you do if you don't like duck?
- Basil Fawlty: Ah, well, if you don't like duck, uhhh, you're rather stuck.
- Basil Fawlty: [indicating Sybil] This - Basil's wife.
- Basil Fawlty: [indicating himself] This - Basil. This - smack on head.
- [smacks Manuel on the head]
- Colonel Hall: [ordering drinks] Two small and dry.
- Basil Fawlty: [taking it as a disparaging remark against Mrs. Hall] Oh, I wouldn't say that.
- Colonel Hall: What?
- Basil Fawlty: I don't know...
- Colonel Hall: Two small dry sherries!
- Master Heath: [to Basil] Haven't you got any PROPER chips?
- Basil Fawlty: Well, these ARE proper French-fried potatoes. You see, the chef IS Continental.
- Master Heath: Couldn't you get an English one?
- Mrs. Heath: Why don't you eat just one or two, dear?
- Master Heath: They're the wrong SHAPE.
- Basil Fawlty: Oh, dear... What shape you usually have? Mickey Mouse shape? Smarties shape? Amphibious landing-craft shape? Poke-in-the-eye shape?
- Master Heath: God, you're dumb.
- Mrs. Heath: Oh, now.
- Basil Fawlty: [gritting his teeth] Is there something we can get you instead, SONNY?
- Master Heath: I'd like some bread and salad cream.
- Basil Fawlty: To eat? Well, there's the bread, and there's the mayonnaise.
- Master Heath: I said "salad cream", stupid.
- Basil Fawlty: We don't HAVE any salad cream. The chef made this freshly this morning.
- Master Heath: What a dump!
- Mr. Heath: Th-h-h-h-h-h-h-his is very good.
- Mrs. Heath: [firmly] He likes salad cream.
- Master Heath: That's PUKE, that is.
- Basil Fawlty: Well, at least it's FRESH puke!
- Mrs. Heath: Might I ask why you don't have proper salad cream. I mean, most restaurants...
- Basil Fawlty: Well, the, uh, the chef usually buys it only on special occassions. You know, Gourmet Nights and so on, but, um, when he's got the bottle - OH! - he's genius with it. He can unscrew the cap like Robert Carrier. It's a treat to watch, and then - ptptptpt! - right in the plate. Never on the walls. Magic. Mind you, he's a wizard with a tin opener, too. He's got a Pulizer Prize for that. He can out the stuff in the saucepan before you can say "haute cuisine." You name it, he'll heat it up and scrape it off the pan for you. Mind you, skill like that isn't picked up overnight. Still, I'll tell him to get some salad cream. I mean, you never know when Henry Kissenger is gonna drop in, do you?