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Philip: How can you object to feeding the poor when you spend so much on that fat, flea-bitten thing.
Rigsby: Hey, shush, shush. Keep your voice down. He understands every word you say, you know. There, there love. Vienna come here. That's a good boy, yes. You've offended him now. It's all right, the dark gentleman didn't mean it.
Philip: But I did mean it. Just look at him. What use is he?
Rigsby: What use? Wha...he isn't supposed to be any use, he's a pet.
Philip: Would you eat him if you were starving?
Rigsby: Oh I shall have to cover his ears if you carry on like this. Eat him? Of course I wouldn't eat him. We don't do that sort of thing in this country.
Philip: He's your sacred cow, Rigsby. he has the best of everything.
Rigsby: Yes of course he does. Has that stuff they show on the television. The one the cat picks out. Always goes for that bowl. Unerring isn't he.
Alan: Gets its tail trodden on if it doesn't. That food should go to feed people.
Rigsby: It does - Pakistanis love it.
Philip: Oh come on, Rigsby. You don't believe that old tale.
Rigsby: Goes down well with a bit of curry powder that does.
Alan: You'll believe anything.
Rigsby: It's true! You drop a Pakistani from any height, he'll always land on his feet.
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