Scratchit: Ah, Mr Ebenezer... I was wondering if you had perhaps a little
present for me...? or had found me a little fowl for Tiny Tom's
Christmas...?
Ebenezer: I've ]always[ found you `foul', Mrs Scratchit -- and more than
a little.
[Mrs Scratchit is stunned.]
Ebenezer: As for Tiny Tom's Christmas: he can stuff it up his enormous
muscular backside.
Scratchit: But he's a cripple!
Ebenezer: He's ]not[ a cripple, Mrs Scratchit. Occasionally saying "Phew!
My leg hurts!" when he remembers to wouldn't fool ]Baldrick[!
Baldrick: It did, actually.
Ebenezer: However, if you want something for lunch, take this. [he reaches
down and lifts up a bucket with some faecal-brown stain running
down the side] It's a pound a lump, and, as luck would have it,
there are seventeen lumps left. [takes his seventeen pounds back
from her basket] Thank you.
Scratchit: But what about my Tiny Tom?
Ebenezer: If I was you, I'd scoop him out and use him as a houseboat.
Good day.
[Scratchit cries and leaves]
Baldrick: [closes the door once more] Mr B... Where's the milk of
human kindness?
Ebenezer: It's gone off, Baldrick -- it stinks.
[Doorbell rings.]
Ebenezer: Get that; and, whoever it is, slam the door in their faces --
or I'll slam your face in the door. [goes to the back room]
