Tom Wilkinson credited as playing...
Gerald
- Guy: [Guy is auditioning. He tries to walk up a wall, as in the film "Singing in the Rain", and falls flat on his back]
- Gaz: So. You don't sing? You don't dance? I hope you don't think I'm being nosy, but what *do* you do?
- Guy: Well, er, there *is* this...
- Guy: [seen from the waist up, Guy unbuckles his belt and drops his trousers; the camera pans across the audition panel, with each person looking gobsmacked]
- Gaz: Gentlemen, the lunchbox has landed!
- [Gerald is hiding behind a newspaper which he now lowers to see what the fuss is about]
- Gerald Arthur Cooper: Chuffin' Norah!
- Dave: [When presented with the first images of "Flashdance"] Hey, what's this? I didn't go on the nick in Asda for some chuffin' women's DYI video!
- Gaz: It's "Flashdance", Dave. She's a welder, isn't she!
- Dave: A welder? Well, I hope she dances better than she welds! I mean, look at that - her mix is all to cock!
- Dave: Shut up, Dave. What the fuck do you know about welding, anyway?
- Dave: More than some chuffin' woman! Arh, it's like Bonfire Night! That's too much acetylene, is that! Them joints will hold fuck all!
- Gerald: Arh, for Christ's sake, Dave. We're looking for dancing, aren't we!
- Gaz: He's got the hump about Asda!
- Gerald: You're always ahead there!
- Gaz: You're always bloody behind, more like
- Gerald: [to policeman] Can I borrow this?
- [he rewinds the clipping of the CCTV showing their strip act]
- Gerald: [to giggling police officers behind them] Shut up will ya? Watch
- Police officer: [to Gaz] He's right. You're ahead.
- Gaz: Bollocks!
- Dave: Well, I just pray they're a bit more understanding about us, that's all.
- Horse: You what?
- Dave: Well, they're going to be looking at us like that, aren't they, Eh? I mean, what if next Friday 400 women turn 'round and say "He's too fat, he's too old and he's a pigeon-chested little tosser."? What happens then, eh?
- Horse: They wouldn't say that, would they?
- Dave: Why not? He's just said her tits are too big.
- Lomper: That's different. We're... blokes.
- Dave: Yeah, and?
- Gerald: I think she's got nice tits, actually.
- Lomper: I never said owt about her personality, like. I mean, she's probably quite nice if you get to know her.
- Dave: No. And they won't say nowt about your personality neither. Which is good 'cause you're basically a bastard. Bollocks to your personality - this is what they're looking at, right? And I'll tell you summat, mate. Anti-wrinkle cream there may be, but anti-fat-bastard cream there is none.
- Gerald: [Gerald is seated at a computer at Job Club accessing data while Gaz and the others are talking and playing cards and not filling out requested forms] Button it, you lot. Some of us are trying to get a job. Ey! And it says "No Smoking" in here!
- Gary 'Gaz' Schofield: Aye, and it says "Job Club" up there. When was the last time you saw one of them fuckin' walk in? You forget, Gerald, you're not our foreman anymore. You're just like the rest of us: scrap.
- Gerald: Shut it! Right?
- Gerald Arthur Cooper: Fat, David, is a feminist issue.
- Dave: Well, what's that supposed to mean, when it's at home?
- Gerald Arthur Cooper: I don't bloody know, do I? But it is.
- Dave: We want to know about dancing that's all.
- Gerald Arthur Cooper: Dancers have coordination, skill, timing, fitness, and grace. Take a long, hard look in the mirror.