Steve:
Just saw a geezer in a balaklava with a suitcase... No... more of a travel bag.
Billy:
Dating's complicated in England.
Steve:
British birds ain't complicated. Buy 'em a Bacardi Breezer and they'll ride you like Seabiscuit.
[
last lines]
Steve:
Foursome?
Gordon:
Shall I make a cup of tea?
Steve:
Shit, I've left Gordon's foot on the coach... sorry mate.
Steve:
[
In response to Bill saying he likes Maggie] No offence mate, but you've got more chance of getting shit from a rocking horse.
Richard:
I can't spell success without "u". And you, and you, and you...
Harris:
There's only one "u" in success.
Steve:
[
Trousers round his ankles, urinating] Listen - now I know we're mates, but if you look at my cock one more time, I'm gonna kick off.
Billy:
What are you talking about? I have not once looked at your winkie!
Richard:
[
Talking to Maggie about Palisade Defence, a weapons company] It's a public company. Members of both our governments are on the board. They're not going to do anything immoral!
Steve:
You've got about as much chance of getting shit out of a rocking horse!
Steve:
You FOUND a pie?
Richard:
There are no bears in Hungary. Unless we've crossed the border into Romania, in which case there ARE bears. If we're in Serbia, then... I don't know.
Harris:
That's really interesting, Richard. Tell me something: are bears required to stop at borders? Is there some sort of, I don't know, passport control for bears?
Harris:
[
after Steve finds a tooth in the pie] Bit young to be losing your teeth, Steve.
Steve:
It's not my tooth.
Richard:
What?
Jill:
Could it be the cow's tooth?
Steve:
A cow with gold fillings?
Gordon:
[
after he's lost half his leg and been in a bus crash] I think I've broken my arm
Gordon:
[
Steve is eating magic mushrooms, the coach sharply stops] Anyone need first aid?
Steve:
I might do in about 20 minutes...
[
the group is at breakfast the day after Steve ate the hallucinogenic mushrooms]
Maggie:
Are you still tripping?
Steve:
No, no. Why are you naked?
George:
[
takes out the rocket launcher from the case] You label terrorist on it, and I'll kill it.
Gordon:
I cooked it for the whole hour.
Coach Driver:
[
cursing in Hungarian] ... Bob Marley! Bob Marley!
Flamethrower Killer:
[
yelling at Jill in Hungarian than voice turns sarcastic] Palisade.
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