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LEAD WITH THE HEAD, NEVILLE!

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NEVILLE: Gain way, Buxton! This locomotive makes no stops between Boston and the green slopes of the Pacific shore! 

BUXTON: Neville: You'll naught but fracture a perfectly good braincase on these granite baby buds, Buxton! 

NEVILLE: Careful, now. At least pause for a shake of a lamb's tail whilst I guide your head into them for greater accuracy, lest your skull-mortar go awry. 

BUXTON: Consideration and devil-may-care fatalism in one man? Methinks you were an Andover man in sheep's clothing! 

NEVILLE: Yes, like that...just like that...

BUXTON: Hullo there...um...say, Neville, you seem to be caressing the back of my neck as though we were familiar in the manner of perfumed Neopolitan gentlemen. Perhaps you are an Exeter man through and through! 

NEVILLE: Nonsense. Why would such men be at mansome all-boys' schools? 

BUXTON: Correct. PREPARE FOR YOUR GRIDIRON DEORCHIDIFICATION, BOY-O! 

[They collide in horrific fashion.]