Bibi: Goddam this moonshine’s good – give me s’more, you give me s’more now!
General Zee: Think you’ve had enough – should go home now and–
Bibi: Awww put a sock in it – just hand the bottle over – I’m in the middle of having a great fish-fish… fision, fizion, vison, vijon, I mean vision of this great big bad–
General Zee: Mr. Prime Minister, I urge you please stop drinking or you’ll–
Bibi snatches the bottle of moonshine from the General’s hand and takes a long spilling swig.