CENTURION: The crowd outside is getting a bit restless, sir. Permission to disperse them, please.
PILATE: Disperse them? But I haven't addwessed them yet.
CENTURION: Ah, no. I know sir, but--
PILATE: My addwess is one of the high points of the Passover. My fwiend, Biggus Dickus, has come all the way fwom Wome just to hear it.
CENTURION: Hail Caesar.
BIGGUS: Hail Thaethar!
CENTURION: You're not-- ah, you're not, uh, thinking o-- of giving it a miss this year, then, sir?
PILATE: Give it a miss?
CENTURION: Well, it's just that they're in a rather funny mood today, sir.
PILATE: Weally, Centuwion? I'm surpwised to hear a man like you wattled by a wabble of wowdy webels.
CENTURION: A... bit thundery, sir.