- Rick: [Just before the bus smashes into a Cliff Richard sign and goes flying off a cliff] Look out! CLIFF!
- Neil: It was horrible. I sat in the big hall and put my pocket of Polos on the desk. And my spare pencil and my support gonk. And my chewing gum and my extra pen. And my extra Polos and my lucky gonk. And my pencil sharpener shaped like a cream cracker. And more gonks with a packet of Polos in each. And lead for my retractable pencil. And my retractable pencil. And spare lead for my retractable pencil. And chewing gum and pencils and pens and more gonks, and the guy says "Stop writing, please".
- Vyvyan: Well, what about Babycham? One glass of that and I'm anybody's!
- Rick: Then it's a bit of a pity that absolutely nobody wants you then, isn't it?
- Vyvyan: Rick, shut up, or I'll tell everybody in this room that you've got an iron-on cartoon worm on the front of your Y-fronts that says 'Girl-bait'!
- Rick: [Uncomfortably] Oh, so you've been going through my Y-fronts, have you Vyvyan? I suppose you *fancy* me, is that it?
- Vyvyan: [Acting] Yes! As a matter of fact, I do Rick! I really, really fancy you, and I want to give you a big girly kiss on the bottom!
- Rick: [Creeped out] Ugh! Ugh, Mike, Mike, Vyvyan's gone all funny! Ugh! Ugh, he says he wants to kiss my bottom!
- Vyvyan: Oh! Did I say 'kiss you on the bottom'? Oh, beg my pardon. I meant to say: 'Stick a pick-axe through your spinal column!'
- Rick: What's the difference? There'll be plenty of chicks for these tigers on the road to the promised land. This is it. It's really happening. Who needs qualifications? Who cares about Thatcher and unemployment? We can do just exactly whatever we want to do. And you know why? Because we're Young Ones. Bachelor boys. Crazy, mad, wild-eyed, big-bottomed anarchists.
- Mike: Neil, it's very rare that you interest me but today you have. Why do you keep coming down here with a cake and saying surprise?
- Neil: It's my birthday.
- Mike: Now you knew that anyway and we don't care, so where's the surprise?
- Neil: Well, I baked a cake.
- Mike: A cake. Can a cake dance? Can a cake get you drunk? Will a cake let you put your hand up it's jumper?