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Home: The Toast

MRS BENNET: Someone’s finally moving into Netherfield!
ELIZABETH: Really? I thought they were going to tear that down and build a Red Rooster.

MR BENNETT: When the sailors come to town you all act like a pack of flaming galahs! No daughter of mine will be going to schoolies on the Gold Coast! But if you’re very good, Kitty, in a few years you might earn yourself a Blue Light Disco.

ELIZABETH: Bingo has the hots for you, Jane, for sure.

BINGLEY: Isn’t Jane a stunner?
DARCY: I don’t want to use the b-word but…
LYDIA: BURN OUT COMPETITION IN THE CAR PARK, NOW!
DARCY: Jesus H Christ Bingley they’re the biggest bogans I’ve ever seen, you can’t marry into that, you drive a beemer.

ELIZABETH: Wickham! What are you doing here?
WICKHAM: Ehh, chucked a sickie.

LYDIA: Bingo promised us a party! It’ll be super grouse – just like a B and S! I’m hoping for some goon, a bang-up barbie, and a pash.
KITTY: And some fairy bread and a dancefloor.
LYDIA: And a pash.
KITTY: And a pash.

DARCY: Oh, you met Wickham?
ELIZABETH: Yeah, and he didn’t call me a bloody bogan.
DARCY: Well he’s – I – fuck him. *flounces off*
ELIZABETH: What a sooky la la.

MR COLLINS: Cousin Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH: Yeah, nah, mate.

ELIZABETH: Charlotte, he’s a bloody wowser! He’s gonna make you go to church every Sunday and not just at Christmas, and how’s he gonna feel about your Sunday shift at Coles?
CHARLOTTE: Liz, not all of us can get into uni, yeah?
ELIZABETH: But he DRIVES A FORD and wears SOCKS WITH SANDALS.

LADY CATHERINE: And when you’re out in the sun, you must always wear a hat, and a rashie. And trust the life savers, they’re very trained. Although I do wish they’d change the colour of the life savers; red and yellow is simply not my colour. If I were to be a life saver – as a child I’m sure I would have been a very strong swimmer, you know, and I do know the correct way to exit a rip – I should insist on a blue or a green. I’m more of a winter, and so is the Bay, you know.
COLONEL FITZWILLIAM, ASIDE: I love a bit of a life saver. *wink*
LADY CATHERINE: And you must never eat a life saver. Those lollies are just terrible for you.

MR DARCY: Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH: Yeah, nah, mate.
MR DARCY: Yeah, well, your mum’s a bogan and your dad’s a bludger and your sisters are all fucking root rats who wear too much Billabong.
ELIZABETH: My dad’s legit on compo and you’re figjam and you can fuck right off!

LYDIA: We’ve come to meet you! And also buy a new trucker cap and a MAMBO shirt, but I’ve got no cash; can I borrow a pineapple?

UNCLE GARDINER: You know, Lizzie, we’re actually quite near Darcy’s place.
ELIZABETH: Ugh.
AUNT GARDINER: Oh I’ve heard that Pemberley has wonderful views of the Harbour Bridge!
ELIZABETH: But it’s a bloody coat hanger!

ELIZABETH: Well okay I SUPPOSE the bridge does look pretty good from here.

MRS HOUSEKEEPER: And here is the kitchen. It was recently renoed.
AUNT GARDINER: Look at the Hills Hoist out there!
MRS HOUSEKEEPER: It is pretty fucking sweet.
AUNT GARDINER: And the games of goon of fortune you could have there!

ELIZABETH: So look, we only came to Pemberley because my aunt and uncle wanted a sticky beak and… whoa.
DARCY: What?
ELIZABETH: This is a GROUSE pergola.
DARCY: Thanks?
ELIZABETH: I’m not kidding you could have the mother of all barbeques out here.

JANE’S LETTER: …and then mum, hearing the knocks, shrieked, “Has a dingo come for us?!” But it was just the postie with a note. Why she couldn’t of fucking called, I don’t know. Classic Lydia.

JANE: I can’t believe that Lydia would run off with Wickham like that.
ELIZABETH: Come on, I can.
JANE: I guess none of us really wanted to acknowledge that she’s THAT much of a root rat.

WICKHAM: Look I’m sorry for basically kidnapping your sister, marrying her, and pissing off you and your dad. I hope this doesn’t affect all the future flirting I plan to send your way.
ELIZABETH: I’m gonna put a potato in your Monaro’s tailpipe, you complete deadshit.

LADY CATHERINE: I’ve heard some shit.
ELIZABETH: Are you sure?
LADY CATHERINE: Are you, or are you not, moving in with my nephew?
ELIZABETH: Sheila, have you seen the size of his backyard pool and his Hills Hoist?

DARCY: And then when Aunty Cath came back mad as a cut snake I knew you still had the hots for me.
ELIZABETH: That obvious, was it?

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It is a truth universally acknowledged that two grouse Ozzie sheilas with bloody arts degrees must be in want of a place to skite about them. Take a squizz at Hayley and Steph on Twitter.

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