von Richthoven: So! I am the Red Baron von Richthoven and you are the two English flying aces responsible for the spilling of the precious German blood of many of my finest and my blondest friends. I have waited many months to do this.
[von Richthoven kisses Black Adder on both cheeks.]
Black Adder: You may have been right, Balders. Looks like we’re going to get rogered to death after all.
Baldrick: Do you want me to go first, Sir?
[von Richthoven laughs.]
von Richthoven: You English and your sense of humour. During your brief stay I look forward to learning more of your wit, your punning and your amusing jokes about the breaking of the wind.
Black Adder: Well, Baldrick’s the expert there.
Baldrick: I certainly am, Sir.
[von Richthoven laughs.]
von Richthoven: How lucky you English are to find the toilet so amusing. For us, it is a mundane and functional item. For you, the basis of an entire culture.
[Baldrick laughs, von Richthoven slaps him in the face.]
von Richthoven: I must now tell you of the full horror of what awaits you.
Black Adder: Ah, you see, Balders. Dress it up in any amount of pompous verbal diarrhoea, and the message is `Squareheads down for the big Boche gang-bang’.
von Richthoven: As an officer and a gentleman, you will be looking forward to a quick and noble death.
Black Adder: Well, obviously.
von Richthoven: But, instead, an even worse fate awaits you. Tomorrow, you will be taken back to Germany . . .
Black Adder: Here it comes!
von Richthoven: . . . to a convent school, outside Heidelberg, where you will spend the rest of the war teaching the young girls home economics.
Black Adder: Er . . .
von Richthoven: For you, as a man of honour, the humiliation will be unbearable.
Black Adder: Oh, I think you’ll find we’re tougher than you imagine.
von Richthoven: Ha! I can tell how much you are suffering by your long faeces.
Black Adder: We’re not suffering too much to say `thank you’. Thank you.
Say `thank you’, Baldrick.
Baldrick: Thank you, Baldrick.
[von Richthoven laughs.]
von Richthoven: How amusing. But now, forgive me. I must take to the skies once again. Very funny. The noble Lord Flasheart still eludes me.
Black Adder: I think you’ll find he’s overrated. Bad breath and . . . impotent, they say.
[von Richthoven laughs.]
von Richthoven: Sexual innuendo.
But enough of this. As you say in England, I must fly.
Perhaps I will master this humour after all, ja?
Black Adder: I wouldn’t be too optomistic.
von Richthoven: Oh, and the little fellow, if you get lonely in the night, I’m in the old chateau. There’s no pressure.
