I don't know, I must find my wife. I don't know what to do.
Look, wherever they are, surely the most sensible thing for the two of us to do is to press on. I mean for all we know, your brother-in-law may be out or away somewhere. And even if he were the first to be there, he still has to find the money, hasn't he? Now I earnestly recommend that we forget your good ladies and press on with all possible dispatch.
And I don't really think that personal rancor is going to help the situation. If I may say so.
You want me to tell you something? As far as I'm concerned, the whole British race is practically finished. If it hadn't been for lend-lease. If we hadn't have kept your whole country afloat by giving you billions that you never even said "thank you" for, the whole phony outfit would be sunk right under the Atlantic years ago. [Hawthorne screeches to a stop] What are you stopping for?
Get out of this machine.
Get out? You can't...
It's my machine, I will do as I bloody well, please. Out!
I'm awfully sorry. I've been very edgy today and if I said anything about England, I apologize.
Glad to hear you say so. [drives again] I must say, if I had the grievous misfortune to be a citizen of this benighted country, I should be the most hesitant at offering any criticism whatever of any other.
Wait a minute, are you knocking this country? Are you saying something against America?
Against it? I should be positively astounded to hear of anything that could be said FOR it. Why, the whole bloody place is the most unspeakable matriarchy in the whole history of civilization! Look at yourself, and the way your wife and her strumpet of a mother push you through the hoop! As far as I can see, American men have been totally emasculated. They're like slaves! They die like flies from coronary thrombosis, while their women sit under hairdryers, eating chocolates and arranging for every second Tuesday to be some sort of Mother's Day! And this positively infantile preoccupation with bosoms. In all my time in this wretched, godforsaken country, the one thing that has appalled me most of all is this preposterous preoccupation with bosoms. Don't you realize they have become the dominant theme in American culture: in literature, advertising and all fields of entertainment and everything. I'll wager you anything you like: if American women stopped wearing brassieres, your whole national economy would collapse overnight.
