β Fuck me all, Tom! What's that?
β It's me belt, Turkish.
β No, Tommy, there's a gun in your trousers. What is a gun doing in your trousers?
β It's for protection!
β Protection from what? Zee Germans?
β Oh, and hope he doesn't notice?
β Who the f*ck will we replace him with?
β What about John The Gun? Or Mad Fist Willy?
β You're not Mr. Current Affairs, are you?
β Mad Fist went mad...and The Gun shot himself.
β We'll need a proper office. I want a new one. You're going to buy it for me.
β Why me?
β Well, you know about caravans.
β How's that?
β You spent a summer in one. Which means you know more than me.
