Top 30 Quotes From David Mitchell

[Johnson, a former alcoholic, picks up a glass of champagne]
Mark: [grabbing hold of the glass in Johnson's hand] Isn't it like kryptonite? Won't it kill you?
Johnson: I'm not going to drink it, Mark, I'll just take a sniff for old time's sake.
[Mark lets go. Johnson sniffs it, then downs it]
Johnson: More fool you, asshole.

Mark: [looking at different blends of tea] Breakfast blend, special blend, oh! double black diamond extra bold, that sounds interesting. Breakfast blend it is.

Mark: Now obviously, this is a fucking disaster, but Dobby's staying. For Christmas.
Jeremy: Right. Lovely. The more, the merrier.
Mark: Exactly. The more, the merrier, they said as another poor soul was crammed into the Black Hole of Calcutta.

Mark: [voiceover] Can't believe he's actually moving out. I'm going to be an unemployed single mother stuck in the flat eating Frosties from a salad bowl until I die from loneliness and two weeks later they break down the door to find Ian sucking on my cold, dead teats.

Mark: [trying out the second-hand paper shredder his dad has given him for Christmas] I guess it is time to move to cross-cut, my old strip-cut was probably a security risk to be honest.
Dan: That's a real shredder, not a Nancy boy shredder.
Mark: [voiceover] Ugh, the office equipment homophobe.

Jeremy: Remember that time we came back from Cinderella's and Pedge put his pants on the taxi driver's head and he couldn't see a thing?
Mark: Yeah, that would have been more hilarious had I not been literally weeping with fear.

Super: It's the heart of darkness Jez, it's the fucking dirt.
Mark: I don't wanna go into the heart of darkness!
Jeremy: Oh come on dude sometimes you gotta flip the switch lift the rock and look what's underneath cause it's not always woodlice.
Mark: Look if that party is too much for Hans excuse me Hans, the crack addled maniac. I'm pretty confident it'll be too much for me.

Sarah: Merry Christmas, Mark, I'm shattered, can I have a glass of champagne?
Mark: Of course, Cava's just through there.
Sarah: Cava? Ugh.
Mark: [voiceover] Great. Five seconds before the first disappointment. Got that in early.

Mark: [looking at the oversized Christmas tree in their lounge, bent over and scraping the ceiling at the top] Oh, wow. So, you got it in, in the end. It's quite a specimen.
Jeremy: Mmm-hmm. Quite a specimen. I thought about trimming the top off but it felt like I was castrating Christmas, you know? Chopping Santa's bollocks off.

Super: You want the knack, Mark? With women?
Mark: Well... yes, I suppose I do.
Super: Want the knack? Get smack.
Mark: Smack?
Super: Get smacked out of it, then you'll get the ladies.
Mark: Really?
Super: Maybe.
Mark: Right. I'm not sure I...
Super: I just love smack. I'm probably not the right man to ask.

Dan: [spills his drink] Oh, for fudge's sake!
Mark: It's OK, Dad, the carpet's seen worse.
Sarah: You Jezzed the carpet just like you Jezzed the directions, Dad!
[she and Pam giggle. Mark looks uncomfortable]
Jeremy: Erm, Jezzed?
Pam: We got it from Mark, didn't we, Mark?
Jeremy: Oh, right. So, uh... it's when you...
Pam: When you get something wrong - he Jezzed it.
Dan: Total balls-up, a real Jezzing.
Jeremy: Right. Yeah. Yeah, that is funny. Sort of a bit like being famous.
[the doorbell rings]
Jeremy: I'll go and see who that is. Let's hope I don't Jez it, or do a big Mark in my pants.

Dan: Now, where's the cauliflower?
Mark: Cauliflower is not traditional, Dad.
Dan: [shouts] CAULIFLOWER IS TRADITIONAL!
[a very awkward silence falls upon the table]
Dobby: I don't know if it really is traditional, actually.
Dan: Could you not slip a muzzle on your woman, please, Mark?
[Dobby's jaw drops. The silence continues]
Mark: [voiceover] I notice I'm not saying anything.
Mark: Ahhhh...
Mark: [voiceover] Still not saying anything...
[Dobby looks at him, waiting for him to say something]
Mark: [voiceover] Nothing coming...
Dobby: [getting up] You'll have to excuse me. Thank you, this has all been horrible.

Mark: [discussing Jeremy moving out] Maybe this is the kick up the arse we both need. I could turn your room into an office, finally nail Business Secrets of the Pharaohs.
Jeremy: Right. OK, man, yeah, good on you, because obviously we've always been amazing mates, but also a bit like lead weights dragging each other down?
Mark: Exactly. Living together, it's been like... eating a vast portion of chips, very comforting but also there's this lurking sense that you're killing yourself. Right?

[last lines]
Jeremy: If I was going to kill you, I'd have a great sign-off.
Mark: Yeah?
Jeremy: You always loved history, Mark. Well, now you can be part of it.
[mimes shooting him]
Jeremy: Bang.
Mark: Yeah, not bad, not bad at all. I think I'd just come at you in the night, pillow on the face, cark.
Jeremy: Yeah, that's you all over.
[voiceover]
Jeremy: Aw, we do love each other really.
Mark: [voiceover] I simply must get rid of him.

Mark: [unwrapping his Christmas present from Dobby] Oh, right, yeah, the FlashFoward box set.
Dobby: It's meant to be amazing. Shall we do it this week?
Mark: Uh, sure, it's just... we watched all the Losts and they were somewhat OK, and Heroes had some interesting themes, but also quite a lot of not-so-interesting themes, and Prison Break... by the end I very much felt I wanted to break out of the prison that Prison Break had become for us, and it's just... don't you think maybe we should... go out?
Dobby: [disappointed by Mark's reaction] Where to?
Mark: To... not the theatre obviously, but... the National Army Museum?
Dobby: You'd rather go to the National Army Museum than stay in bed and watch FlashFoward and drink brandy? Are you bonkers?

Jeremy: Tonight, it's not about the bitches, it's all about the Hitches!
Mark: The Hitches? You think we're Peter and Christopher Hitchens on a big night out? And I suppose I have to be Peter.

Mark: Merry Christ-Mark everyone!

Mark: [whilst playing paintball, after entering a bunker to hide in] Wonder if Simon and found a bunker. Wonder if he's in there with Dobby.
[sighs]
Mark: Oh God.
Super: Probably. War makes people horny. Yalta, Yalta was hardcore, Stalin and Roosevelt sandwich, Churchill sat on the side wanking. Yeah?

Jeremy: You're not thinking of getting back with Sophie? A bit of a depressing backwards step?
Mark: Yeah, well, April's kaput. Maybe that's just life, your expectations get ground down and down until finally you settle for a life that would have mortified you 20 years ago but now seems like a blessed relief.

Mark: Nothing from Dobby since Christmas. I want to call again, but when I leave long messages, I have this nagging sense that I'll end up hearing them being played back to me in a court of law.

Mark: Where's the turkey, Jeremy?
Jeremy: What?
Mark: The turkey. Where's the turkey?
Jeremy: I thought you were getting the turkey.
Mark: You what?
[starts shouting]
Mark: NO TURKEY? You fucking idiot, Jeremy! You total fucking idiot! That was YOUR job, you fucking moron! You cretin! YOU'RE A FUCKHEAD! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! A FUCKING SHITHEAD!
[Jeremy looks very hurt]
Jeremy: [quiet voice] It was a joke, Mark. I was joking. It was a Christmas joke.
Mark: Oh, I see... oh.
Jeremy: Of course I've got a turkey. It's an organic turkey, I took ages researching it online. It's going to be delicious.
[he opens the fridge to reveal the turkey inside]
Mark: [guilty] That looks like a lovely turkey. I'm sorry, I... flew off the handle a bit.
Jeremy: [still on the verge of tears] That wasn't very Christmassy.
Mark: No, it wasn't. I apologize.

Mark: [voiceover] My mother is giving me socks depicting a sexual position I have never even attempted. How little she knows me.

Super: I'm gonna write this place off send someone in there tomorrow with some disinfectant and a flame thrower. I got me sleeping bag I don't wanna know.
Mark: How was it?
Jeremy: Fine let's go.
Mark: What?
Jeremy: Look I don't wanna talk about it alright. I just want a cup of tea and some soda bread and sit down somewhere quiet!
Mark: What's going on in there are they doing it?
Jeremy: Yes Mark that's right they're doing it. You really have no imagination whatsoever do you!
Mark: Well what are they doing then?
Jeremy: Dude don't worry about them cause they sure as hell aren't worrying about you!. Let's just go Hans?
Super: Yep fuck yeah let's go.
Mark: Big Suze's?
Super: Don't mind where as long as it's safe. I just wanna be in a controlled environment have a Coke and a Tuna sandwich just mong out to some Snow Patrol.

Jeremy: Come on, man, shake your booty! Tonight even Paxman's out, hoovering up lines of crank of Krishnan Guru-Murthy. Tonight's the big one.
Mark: Jeremy, all rational people agree it's a truth self-evident that it's impossible to have a good time on New Year's Eve. The pressure's too immense.

Jeremy: Who's the chick?
Super: That's no chick, man. That's the love of my life.
Jeremy: Wow. And what does she...
Super: I don't know much about her, she don't speak English. We speak the language of love. And a tiny little bit of German.
Jeremy: Right.
Super: I tell you, man, she is the one. I'd take a bullet for her. I'd take a bullet up the arris for her.
Jeremy: Oh, that's nice.
Super: I'd take a fucking truncheon up the arris for this one. Or an umbrella. I would open an umbrella up inside my arris for this one.
Mark: Hans, we get the message, there's probably no need to list all the things you'd put up your bottom for your girlfriend.

Super: Oi, Mrs C, answer me this, have you ever had a parrot?
Pam: Err... no.
Super: It's just you look like you might enjoy a cock-or-two.
Pam: [laughs] Oh! That's very cheeky, Hans.
Mark: [voiceover] This is the spirit of Christmas, Super Hans bonking Mum doggy-style in the airing cupboard.

Alan: Hey, hey, hey, Marco. How you going, good buddy?
Mark: Yeah, great actually old pal.
Alan: Oh really? Cause I thought you might be feeling like a guy who's just walked into a high-class restaurant with a sausage dog on the end of his dick.
Mark: Uh, no?
Alan: I got something up on my visual display unit this morning, Mark. I thought it was a high-definition photo of some dog shit. Then I took a closer look, and I realised it was actually your sales record.
Mark: Oh, right.
Alan: I pulled strings to get you in, Mark. If you look like a sausage dog fucker, then I look like a sausage dog fucker. Do you get me?
Mark: [voiceover] Got to get my dick out of the dog.

Mark: Dobby, where do you see yourself in 5 years? I mean, for example, would you want to learn sailing at all? Or golf?
Dobby: I wouldn't mind getting a strap-on and you and me spit-roasting Cameron for the Boden catalogue. Was that the sort of thing you have in mind?
Mark: [voiceover] She is great. But where does it end? With us sailing the Caribbean, checking our pension pot online? Or much more likely trying to scrape a living on pub quiz machines from our vast knowledge of popular culture and bar snacks?

[Jeremy answers the door. It's Super Hans]
Super: Happy Christmas, motherfucker.
Jeremy: Hans!
Super: Have a guess what Santa's got in his sack.
[reaches inside his bag and takes out a bundle of marijuana]
Super: Answer: a wicked big bag of sinister minister.
Jeremy: [taking it] Ah. Happy Christmas.
Mark: Hans?
Super: Merry Christmas, Mark.
Mark: Jeremy...
Jeremy: [quietly, to Mark] I'm not going to.
Mark: Well, don't.
Sarah: Super Hans! Merry Christmas, glass of Cava?
Super: [coming in] Don't mind if I do. Mind out boys, Father Spliffmas coming through.
Mark: [voiceover] Great. Methadone in the mulled wine.
Jeremy: What?
Mark: It's your fault.
Jeremy: It's not my fault. I was holding the line.
Mark: Yes, but you know him. You shouldn't know him.
Jeremy: Well, I'm sorry, but I do know him.
Mark: [voiceover] Ugh. Merry migraine and a happy new stomach ulcer.

Mark: Fancy dress. It's like a joke for people with no sense of humour.