Spaced

Tim: You're scared of mice and spiders, but oh-so-much greater is your fear that one day the two species will cross-breed to form an all-powerful race of mice-spiders, who will immobilize human beings in giant webs in order to steal cheese. Daisy: I never said that. Tim: Yeah, but it'd be good though, wouldn't it? Daisy: [shrugs] I dunno. Tim: You can't dangle the bogus carrot of possible reconciliation in front of my face whilst riding some other... donkey. Daisy: Do you want another cup of tea? Tim: Ooh, no thanks, twelve's my limit. Daisy: What do you do, Brian? Brian: I'm an artist. Tim:: [Looking up from what he was doing] I'm an artist. Daisy: Oh, what kind of thing do you do? Brian: Anger. Brian: Pain. Brian: Fear. Brian: Aggression. Daisy: Watercolours? Brian: It's a bit more complex than that. Daisy: Tim does cartoons. Tim: It's a bit more complex than that. Tim: [being dumped] I don't understand, just... eergh... give me a reason! You think I'm unemotional, don't you? I can b

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0

Mike: Wanna go back into your party? Tim: But they were playing 'The Time Warp'! I hate 'The Time Warp'! Mike: Daisy likes it. Tim: I don't care! I hate it! It's boil-in-the-bag perversion for sexually repressed accountants and first-year drama students with too many posters of Betty Blue, The Blues Brothers, Big Blue and Blue Velvet on their blue bloody walls! Tim: What is this? This is rubbish! We should be listening to firm young melodies, kicking tunes, thumping bass! God I sound so stupid! Brian: I'm busy Tim, painting a triptych. Tim: Oh yeah what's it called? Brian: Bad sandwich. Tim: Really? Brian: Yes. Tim: Mmm. Brian: It's a piece about violence in its immediacy, the instancy of the event. A synchronic rendering of three explosive, aggressive, expressions... Tim: There'll be girls at the party. Brian: Really? Tim: Yes. Brian: Mmmmm...

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0

Daisy: You're up early. Tim: Oh, I haven't been to bed. Me and Mike met up with these two Scottish guys in the pub and they gave us all this cheap speed. Daisy: Oh Tim, that's so tacky. Tim: Yeah I know, but y'know they were so nice... I think if we'd said no they'd have got offended and beaten us to death with a pool cue. Daisy: Where's Mike? Tim: [shrugs and mumbles] Dunno. Vulva: Abstract expressionism is so mid-to-late eighties. Tim: You know when you said it went well? Well, when you said well, did you mean shite? Daisy: Right, I'm going to the shops. D'you want anything? Tim: Porn. Daisy: Tim, I'm not going to buy you porn. You can get it from railway sidings like everybody else. Tim: I can't, I'm an adult. I'm supposed to leave it there. Tim: LOOK! Daisy... Daisy, Daisy, Daisy... It's gonna be okay... Now have a big toke on this South-African drugs reefer style splif doobie. Brian: Brian. Painter. Loser. Big... fucking loser. Vulva: [noticing Brian at the after-show party] Oh Br

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0

Daisy: You're so damaged; just because Sarah hurt you, you feel justified in wreaking your petty vengeance on womankind. Tim: Yes... yes... and I'd do it again, I tell you, I'd do it again in an instant! [Laughs manically then jumps out of the window] Brian: Can I borrow a tea-bag? Tim: [sarcastically] Only if you bring it back. [pauses] You can HAVE a tea-bag, Brian, you can't borrow one. Brian: What are you playing? Tim: Tomb Raider 3. Brian: She's drowning. Tim: Yeah. Brian: Is that the point of the game? Tim: Depends what mood you're in really. Brian: What sort of mood are you in then? Tim: Well, I got a letter from my ex-girlfriend this morning, 3 months too late, explaining why she dumped me. It was full of 'you'll always be special' and 'I'll always love you' platitudes designed to make me feel better whilst simultaneously appeasing her deep seated sense of guilt for dumping me, running off with a slimy little city boy called Duane and destroying my faith in everything which is

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0

Daisy: In the end, our relationship was just like a sandwich toaster. You know, you just forget you've got one. And it just sits there on the top of the cupboard collecting a layer of greasy fudge. And even if you do see it you just assume it's broken, you think if it's working I'd be using it all the time, but you don't and it just sits there. Then one day, you get an overwhelming desire for toasted sandwiches, you know? And you get it down and it works, and you can't believe it, you know? And then you make every kind of toasted sandwich there is, you have toasted sandwich parties. You make Marmite and cheese, chocolate and... Tim: Pilchards. Daisy: Banana and... Bilbo: Acorns. Daisy: Acorns. And then as quickly as the desire comes, it just goes. And then you put the toasted sandwich maker away. And, you know what? Tim: What? Daisy: You don't miss it. Bilbo: So what you're saying is 'Don't hide the toasted sandwich maker away, use him regularly and you'll get the most out of him.' Tim

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0

Tim: What you doing playing Army on a Sunday morning, you're missing Grange Hill! Mike: The T.A is no game Tim! Tim: It isn't the T.A Mike, it's the Rough Ramblers. Mike: You're a civilian, you don't understand. You're thinking, "It's Sunday. I'd rather be in bed." Tim: Yeah, and you're thinking, "It's Sunday. I'd rather be in Apocalypse Now." Tim: That's easy for you to say. What you doing later on? Mike: It's classified. Tim: Well, why don't you come round? Look, I'm bored. Mike: I can't. Combat canoeing. I'm going to do an Eskimo Roll with a two stone rucksack in my bag, along with a loaded rifle. Tim: They don't have rifles in the Rough Ramblers Mike. Mike: Hand grenades? Tim: No! Mike: Anthrax? Tim: Mike! Mike: Listen Tim. I Gotta go. Looks like we're moving out. Roger. Bravo. Tango. Alpha! Kid: Come on, Mike! Tim: How is she? Mike: The fibreglass on the outer casing was severely damaged in the incident. Tim: What happened? Mike: Showing off Tim, I had 15 rocks in my rucksack, ins

Spaced, CC BY-SA 4.0