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In the Regency era, Mr E. Blackadder serves as butler to the foppish numskull Prince George amidst the fads and crazes of the time.
Baldrick: Morning, Mr. B. Blackadder: Leave me alone, Baldrick. If I wanted to talk to a vegetable, I would have bought one at the market.
Baldrick: [Blackadder slams the door] Something wrong, Mr. B? Blackadder: Oh, something's *always* wrong, Balders... the fact that I'm not a millionaire aristocrat, with the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino, is a constant niggle.
Prince George: What can I do to a woman that I can't do to you? Blackadder: I cannot conceive, sir.
Blackadder: I have come up with a plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel.