| Good Morning
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| Morning, sir
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| Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium
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| Ah, thank you, my good man
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| What can I do for you, sir?
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| Well, I was sitting in the public library
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| On Thurmon Street just now
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| Skimming through Rogue Herry’s by Hugh Walpole
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| And I suddenly came over all peckish
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| Peckish, sir?
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| Esuriant
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| Eh
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| 'Ee, ah wor 'ungry-loike
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| Ah, hungry
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| In a nutshell, and I thought
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| To myself, A little fermented curd will do the trick
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| So I curtailed my Walloping activities
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| Sallied forth and infiltrated your place
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| Of purveyance to negotiate the vending
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| Of some cheesy comestibles
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| Come again
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| I want to buy some cheese
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| Oh, I thought you were complaining
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| About the bouzouki player
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| Oh, heaven forbid, I am one who delights
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| In all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse
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| Sorry?
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| 'Ooh, ah like a nice tune, 'yer forced too
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| So he can go on playing, can he
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| Most certainly, now then
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| Some cheese please, my good man
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| Certainly, sir, what would you like?
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| Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester?
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| I’m afraid we’re fresh out of red Leicester, sir
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| Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
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| I’m afraid we never have that at the end of the week
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| Sir, we get it fresh on Monday
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| Tish tish, no matter, well stout yeoman
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| Four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please
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| Ah, it’s been on order, sir, for two weeks
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| Was expecting it this morning
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| T’s not my lucky day, is it, aah, Bel Paese?
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| Sorry, sir
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| Red Windsor?
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| Normally, sir, yes, today the van broke down
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| Ah, Stilton?
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| Sorry
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| Ementhal, Gruyere?
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| No
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| Any Norwegian Jarlsberg, per chance?
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| No
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| Lepta?
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| No
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| Lancaster?
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| No
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| White Stilton?
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| No
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| Danish Brew?
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| No
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| Double Gloucester?
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| No
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| Cheshire?
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| No
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| Dorset Bluveny?
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| No
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| Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq
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| Port Salut, Savoy Aire
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| Saint Paulin, Carrier de lest
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| Bres Bleu, Bruson?
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| No
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| Camembert, perhaps?
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| Ah, we have Camembert, yes, sir
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| You do, excellent
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| Yes, sir, it’s, ah, it’s a bit runny
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| Oh, I like it runny
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| Well, it’s very runny, actually, sir
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| No matter, fetch hither
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| The fromage de la Belle France, mwah
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| I think it’s a bit runnier
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| Than you’ll like it, sir
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| I don’t care how fucking runny it is
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| Hand it over with all speed
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| Oh!
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| What now?
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| The cat’s eaten it
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| Has he?
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| She, sir
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| Gouda?
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| No
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| Edam?
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| No
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| Case Ness?
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| No
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| Smoked Austrian?
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| No
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| Japanese Sage Darby?
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| No, sir
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| You do have some cheese, do you?
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| Of course, sir, it’s a cheese shop, sir, we’ve got
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| No, no, don’t tell me, I’m keen to guess
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| Fair enough
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| Uh, Wensleydale?
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| Yes
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| Ah, well, I’ll have some of that
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| Oh, I thought you were talking to me, sir
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| Mister Wensleydale, that’s my name
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| Greek Feta?
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| Uh, not as such
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| Uh, Gorgonzola?
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| No
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| Parmesan?
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| No
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| Mozzarella?
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| No
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| Paper Cramer?
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| No
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| Danish Bimbo?
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| No
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| Czech sheep’s milk?
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| No
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| Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?
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| Not today, sir, no
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| Aah, how about Cheddar?
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| Well, we don’t get much call for it around here, sir
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| Not much call, it’s the single most
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| Popular cheese in the world
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| Not 'round here, sir
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| And what is the most
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| Popular cheese 'round here?
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| Illchester, sir
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| Is it?
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| Oh, yes, it’s staggeringly
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| Popular in this manusquire
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| Is it?
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| It’s our number one best seller, sir
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| I see, uh, Illchester, eh
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| Right, sir?
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| All right, okay, have you got any?
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| He asked expecting the answer 'No'
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| I’ll have a look, sir, um, no
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| It’s not much of a cheese shop, is it?
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| Finest in the district
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| Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please
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| Well, it’s so clean, sir
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| It’s certainly uncontaminated by cheese
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| You haven’t asked me about Limburger, sir
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| Is it worth it?
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| Could be
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| Have you, shut that bloody bouzouki up
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| Told you sir
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| Have you got any Limburger?
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| No
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| Figures, predictable, really I suppose
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| It was an act of purest optimism
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| To have posed the question in the first place
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| Tell me?
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| Yes, sir
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| Have you, in fact, got any cheese here at all?
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| Yes, sir
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| Really?
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| No, not really, sir
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| You haven’t?
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| No, sir, not a scrap
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| I was deliberately
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| Wasting your time, sir
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| Well, I’m sorry, but I’m going
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| To have to shoot you
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| Right-o, sir
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| What a senseless waste of human life |