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See episode Work Experience

David Brent: Good friend of mine, and a bloody good rep - Chris Finch, yeah, IQ of 142, one of the cleverest blokes I know, certainly the cleverest bloke you know, innit?

Gareth Keenan: Chris Finch, yeah.

David: Yeah, he was in an argument once and he went "How can I hate women? My mum's one". Yeah, there's a lot of truth in that, and that's why, when I see [picks up the photo of himself] rubbish, I'm not annoyed cos I'm in it, or cos I'm a prude - It offends women.

Gareth: And our mums.

David: In a way, its sexist, and I hate that.

Gareth: So do I

David: Yeah, but I've said it, haven't I?

Gareth: We've both said it, we've had meetings where we both said it.

David: Yeah, but I really hate it. The point is this: We have access to the internet. But it isn't censored, is that a good or a bad thing?

Gareth: Bad.

David: Well, that's not for us to say. All I know is I can type in, say, 'sex... fetish'. It takes a little while. There. 2230 matches. Just click on one, at random. Aaaagh, there. 'Dutch girls must be punished for having big boobs'. Now, you don't punish anyone, Dutch or otherwise, for having big boobs.

Gareth: If anything, they should be rewarded.

David: They should be equal.

Gareth: Women are equal.

David: I've always said that, so...


[a pornographic picture with David's head superimposed on is discovered on someone's email]

David: Who else has seen this filth?

[everyone puts their hand up, including Joan the cleaning lady]

David: You haven't even got email, Joan.

Joan: Someone printed it out for me.

David: Who printed this out for Joan?

[everyone puts their hand up again]

David: Well. I'm angry. And not because I'm in it, but because it degrades women, which I hate. And the culprit, whoever he is, is in this room. Or she, it could be a woman. Women are as filthy as men. Not naming any names - I don't know any - but women... are... dirty.


Tim Canterbury: It's signs that Gareth's made for the door of his office, um, he started of with "Interrogation Room" , then he went to "Interrogation Office", "Investigation Room", "Investigation Office", just the - He already lost it here "Quiet Please! Invetigation in process!"

Dawn Tinsley: Silence!

Tim: "Silence! Interrogation" That's frightening. Here's the one he's gone for: "Investigation and Meeting Room", makes sense. My personal favorite though has to be [holds up sign] "Gareth Keenan Investigates!"


David: The thing is though, no-one's dispensable in my book, because we're like one big organism, one big animal. The guys upstairs on the phones, they're like the mouth. The guys down here, the hands.

Jennifer Taylor-Clarke: And what part are you?

David: Good question. Probably the humor.


Gareth: Do you know who done the picture?

Keith Bishop: Yeah... no, I mean no.

Gareth: Right. Your first answer was 'yeah', wasn't it?

Keith: I meant no.

Gareth: Well, why did you get...?

Keith: Uhh... I don't know.

Gareth: Am I making you nervous?

Keith: No. I mean, yeah.

Gareth: Hmmm. That's interesting.


David: [to Donna and Dawn] If you do have any trouble from the men, what does she do, Dawn?

Dawn: Kick them in the balls.

David: Oh! Feminist.

Gareth: [jokingly] Get your bra off.

David: [to Gareth, defensively] Do you want to go out, as well?

Gareth: Sorry, burn your bra. Feminists.


Jennifer: I just can't believe their total lack of respect.

David: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Not only did they undermine you in an authoritative sense, but they left an image in my mind of you naked on all fours literally being done doggy style.


Gareth: In this room I have special...

Tim: ...needs?

DGareth: No, in this room I am a special...

Tim: ...needs child?

Gareth: No, and that's not even funny.


David: If you were to ask me to name three geniuses, I probably wouldn't say "Einstein, Newton..." you know. I'd go "Milligan, Cleese, Everett. Sessions."


Gareth: You know the phrase softly softly catchy monkey? ...I could catch a monkey - if I was starving I could. I'd make poison darts out of the poison off deadly frogs. One milligram of that poison can kill a monkey. Or a man. Prick yourself, you'll be dead within a day. Or longer. Different frogs, different times.

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