Colin Gilchrist Fisher: I'm sorry, but this is a private party. I don't mean to be rude, but...

Nick De Angelo: It's okay, Victoria invited me.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: Oh, Victoria invited you. Well, if Victoria invited you, you'd better come and have a drink. What was all that nonsense of yours on the river yesterday? What was that about?

Nick De Angelo: Thought you could use the competition.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: Oh did you?

Nick De Angelo: Yeah.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: Well, thanks, when I need your help, I'll ask for it. Now you try this. This is an excellent wine from a superior vineyard.

[Hands Nick a glass of wine]

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: There you go.

Nick De Angelo: You're right, it's great.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: Yes, I know, it's mine. I bought it.

Nick De Angelo: The wine?

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: No, the vineyard.

Nick De Angelo: Don't make this a personal thing, Colin.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: But it *is* personal. Isn't it?

Nick De Angelo: Look, I didn't travel 10,000 miles to spend my first morning in England talking to some wiseass chick from Weehawken, New Jersey.

Nick De Angelo: I've been sent down.

Simon Rutledge: You'll row eights, or you won't row at all.

Nick De Angelo: Then I won't row at all.

[turns and begins to leave]

Simon Rutledge: Nick? *Colin* rows eights.

Colin Gilchrist Fisher: They say Oxford is what you make of it. Since you've been here, however, I'm afraid you've made it rather less.