Pickles Smack me one, then Brudder and His Grace there doesn’ t get his hands on the photo he wants so badly. And Hamilton Conk will put so much side-spin on your head- it will go into orbit around your ass. Twaddle Leave him, Sergeant Brudder. He has a point. Pickles Then‘ the man who was cruel to his subordinates’ stuck his snout in: Freeloader We have good cause to believe you are in possession of a photograph of a member of the aristocracy. That being so, you are liable to prosecution under the‘ Privileges Provisions Act’,‘ Hegemony and Heritage Act’ and the‘ Act of Succession’. Pickles There are no such bleeding acts! You are talking out of you billiard ball. Keep that nonsense for fat ass, there. Brudder I’ m going to stick one on this little twerp. Twaddle Control yourself-- Mister Ball-- err-- Mister Brudder, Sergeant. Freeloader Is it true then? Pickles Is what true then? Freeloader That you have a photograph of His Grace in battle? Pickles I ' m not exactly sure about the battle bit. Twaddle Perhaps, the photo may be of little interest to us, after all. Pickles Suddenly a cubicle door opened and out walked Finley Bottom, the man who found himself a widower, having misplaced his wife in Pendle Forest Now he does frighten me. Bottom The photograph IS OF INTEREST. How much? How much for the photograph? Pickles A hundred sheets. Bottom I am going to ask Mister Brudder to smack your chops once for every pound you are above the figure I had in mind. Bottom I will ask you again. HOW MUCH? Pickles Fifty bob. Bottom Pay him and then kick him out unto the street. Pickles Brudder untied me. I handed over the photo and pocketed the fifty bob. Bottom flung the photo across the table to Twaddle.. Bottom Burn that! Twaddle Waooow! I do look a little like Oliver Cromwell. Majestic, look at the‘ Handkerchief of Blood’ in my hand. See it reflect the setting sun, and the dark overhanging clouds. Pickles More like THOMAS Cromwell when he lost his bap or was it his head!