[
In a book depository]
Georgina:
Are we safe here?
Michael:
Does Albert read?
Georgina:
Yes! He's a man. He's Jewish and he's from Ethiopia!
Albert:
What?
Georgina:
His mother is a Roman Catholic, he's been imprisoned in South Africa, he's as black as the ace of spades and he probably drinks his own pee!
Georgina:
Try the cock, Albert. It's a delicacy, and you know where it's been.
Albert:
What you've got to realize is that the clever cook puts unlikely things together, like duck and orange, like pineapple and ham. It's called 'artistry'. You know, I am an artist the way I combine my business and my pleasure: Money's my business, eating's my pleasure and Georgie's my pleasure, too, though in a more private kind of way than stuffing the mouth and feeding the sewers, though the pleasures are related because the naughty bits and the dirty bits are so close together that it just goes to show how eating and sex are related. Georgie's naughty bits are nicely related, aren't they, Georgie?
Michael:
Where is he now?
Georgina:
He's eating avocado vinigrette and prawns... with his fingers.
Albert:
Looks like catfood for constipated French rabbits!
Georgina:
Bon apetit. It's French...
Albert:
What are you doing in there, Georgie? You playin' with yourself? That's not allowed. That's my property, you're not allowed to fiddle with it. Now come on, open the door, I'll show you how to wipe yourself.
Albert:
I think those Ethiopians enjoy starving. Keeps them thin and graceful.
Albert:
Circumsized mediocrity is screwing my wife!
Georgina:
[
to Richard] He's dead. They stuffed him with pages torn from his favourite book. Could you cook him?
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