- Chris Morris: When dancing, lost in techo trance, arms flailing, gawky Bez, then find you snagged on frowns, and slowly it dawns, you're jazzing to the bleep tone of a life support machine that marks the steady fading of your day old baby daughter. And when midnight sirens lead to blue flash road mash, stretchers, covered heads and slippy red macadam, and find you creeping 'neath the blankets, to snuggle close a mangle bird, hoping you soon too will be freezer drawed. Then welcome. Mmm, ooh chemotherapy wig. Welcome. In Jam, Jam, Jam, Jam, Jaaaaam.
- Businessman: I provide a service despatching stupid people for the things they're best at. Like winning arguments. Stupid people are great at winning arguments because they're too stupid to realize they've lost.
- Mother: Did you really prescribe my son a kilo of Heroine?
- Weird Doctor: [flashes a Strobe in his own Face] I'm sorry I can't see a thing. You'll have to reschedule, goodbye.
- [Gropes for Intercom]
- Weird Doctor: Sarah, I've just blinded myself. Could you rearrange my diary and then help me to a taxi?
- Estate Agent: There would have to be an arrangement. A... sex arrangement.
- Boss: I can't give you a raise but I can get my assistant in here and fart on her head for you.