Forsyth: Crikey, that was a dashed close thing, chums...I mean to say, it really got out of hand fast.
Selwyn: I say! It jumped up a notch, what?
Forsyth: With knobs on!
Toby: I biffed a bolshevik in the ol' ticker.
Forsyth: Well done old man. Toby slayed a chap. Did you use a what's-it?
Toby: I jolly well did! There were ponies, and a blighter alight, and I whacked a chap with a what's-it.
Forsyth: Toby, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You should find yourself a relative in South America. Go abroad for a while, because you're probably wanted for murder.