Mother: (turning off radio) Liberal rubbish! Klaus!
Klaus: Yeah?
Mother:Whaddaya want with yer jugged fish?
Klaus:'Alibut.
Mother:The jugged fish IS 'alibut!
Klaus:Well, what fish 'ave you got that isn't jugged?
Mother:Rabbit.
Klaus:What, rabbit fish?
Mother:Uuh, yes...it's got fins....
Klaus:Is it dead?
Mother:Well, it was coughin' up blood last night.
Klaus:All right, I'll have the dead unjugged rabbit fish.
Klaus:(putting down his knife and fork) Well, that was really 'orrible.
Mother:Aaw, you're always complainin'!
Klaus:Wha's for afters?
Mother:Rat cake, rat sorbet, rat pudding, or strawberry tart.
Klaus:(eyes lighting up) Strawberry tart?
Mother:Well, it's got *some* rat in it.
Klaus:'Ow much?
Mother:Three. A lot, really.
Klaus:Well, I'll have a slice without so much rat in it.
Voice over: One slice of strawberry tart without so much rat in it later...
Klaus:(putting down fork and knife) Appalling.
Mother:Naw, naw, naw!
Son: (coming in the door) 'Ello Mum. 'Ello Dad.
Klaus:'Ello son.
S: There's a dead bishop on the landing, dad!
Klaus:Really?
Mother:Where's it from?
Son: Waddya mean?
Mother:What's its diocese?
Son: Well, it looked a bit Bath and Wells-ish to me...
Klaus:(getting up and going out the door) I'll go and have a look.
Mother:I don't know...kids bringin' 'em in here....
Son: It's not me!
Mother:I've got three of 'em down by the bin, and the dustmen won't touch 'em!
Klaus:(coming back in) Leicester.
Mother:'Ow d'you know?
Klaus:Tattooed on the back o' the neck. I'll call the police.
Mother:Shouldn't you call the church?
Son: Call the church police!
Klaus:All right. (shouting) The Church Police!
(sirens racing up, followed by a tremendous crash)
(the church police burst in the door)
Detective: What's all this then, Amen!
Mother:Are you the church police?
All the police officers: (in unison) Ho, Yes!
Mother:There's another dead bishop on the landing, vicar sargeant!
Detective: Uh, Detective Parson, madam. I see... suffrican, or diocisian?
Mother:'Ow should I know?
Detective: It's tatooed on the back o' their neck. (spying the tart) 'Ere, is that rat tart?
Mother:Yes.
Detective: Disgusting! Right! Men, the chase is on! Now we should all kneel!
(they all kneel)
All: O Lord, we beseech thee, tell us 'oo croaked Lester!
(thunder)
Voice of the Lord: The one in the braces, he done it!
Klaus: It's a fair cop, but society's to blame.
Detective: Agreed. We'll be charging them too.
Klaus:I'd like you to take the three boddlabin into consideration.
Detective: Right. I'll now ask you all to conclude this harrest with a hymn.
All: All things bright and beautiful,