Matron Quotes in St Trinian's 2: The Legend of Fritton's Gold (2009)

Sir Piers Pomfrey: [Geoffrey is in the AD1 meeting, drinking the communion wine, but drank one too many] Kinsman, we've heard nothing from you. What's your proposal?

[Geoffrey drinks more of the wine, and doesn't listen]

Sir Piers Pomfrey: KINSMAN!

Geoffrey Thwaites: [slurs] What?

Matron: [watching from the St Trinians camera] He's absolutely sloshed! What's happened?

Sir Piers Pomfrey: What's your take on these women?

Geoffrey Thwaites: [slurring] Women?

[scoffs and sputters]

Geoffrey Thwaites: Eh? I'll tell you what I realise right? I've had enough of them!

[slurs]

Geoffrey Thwaites: I... I... I'm sick to the hind bloody teeth, the whole lot of them!

Chelsea: [the girls scoff and gasp at what he said] Scumbag!

Geoffrey Thwaites: [continues slurring] Yak, yak, yak in your all day about...

Camilla: [through camera microphone] That's gratitude for you.

Geoffrey Thwaites: [continues slurring] Gratitude!

Camilla: After I rescued him from the dung heap!

Geoffrey Thwaites: [continues slurring in the meeting] Dung!

AD1 Member: [to himself, quietly] Dung?

Geoffrey Thwaites: [resumes slurring] Just bitching and moaning about this and that and whatever! It's time for them to SHUT UP!

[answering a fruit-based quiz question]

Matron: Papau.

Chelsea: Um...

Matron: Papau!

Chelsea: Um...!

Quiz host: I will have to hurry you, I'm afraid

Matron: PAPAU! PAPAU!

Chelsea: [tentatively] Is it... Pineapple?

Matron: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Quiz host: That is Correct!

Matron: [quietly] Oh.

The Colonel: Come come, Matron. Surely you've seen a temperature taken like this before?

Matron: Yes Colonel. But never with a daffodil!

[Kilmore backpedals straight into Matron in the hospital corridor]

Matron: [Takes thermometer out of her pocket now shaped like a boomerang] That's the third one this week.

Dr James Kilmore: Well, Matron, you can still use it on people who are a bit round the bend.

[romantically in the operating theatre to each other in thought and not in voice]

Matron: What a wonderful man you are, oh how I love you.

Dr. Kenneth Tinkle: Oh how I love you.

Matron: This hospital is getting too small for us, Doctor!

Dr James Kilmore: Well, you're not all that big, Matron.

Matron: [handing Sir Bernard envelopes] By the way - your mail.

Sir Bernard Cutting: Yes, I am! And I can prove it, d'you hear! Prove it!

Matron: I'm a simple woman with simple tastes, and I want to be wooed!

Sir Bernard Cutting: Ooh, you can be as 'wude' as you like with me!

Mr. Tidey: Well, what's happened?

Matron: I'm afraid it was another false alarm, Mr Tidey. You may as well go back to work.

Mr. Tidey: Go back to work? It was due three weeks ago.

Mr. Tidey: Well I'm sorry but babies tend to arrive when they feel like it. There's nothing we can do about it.

Mr. Tidey: That's a fine state of affairs, innit eh? We'd soon be in a right old mess if we ran the railways like that.

Matron: I was under the impression that you did.

Gladstone Screwer: I'll call you "Sunday".

Matron: Well, I won't be in.

Matron: I'm sorry doctor but I cannot stay with that man any longer.

Dr. Jimmy Nookey: Why, what happened?

Matron: I'd rather not say. All they think about is whisky and sex.

Dr. Jimmy Nookey: Well where he comes from they can't get soda.

Gladstone Screwer: You don't have to move out, you know. It's a big bed.

Matron: Well as I told you earlier today, I'm not your sort of woman.

Gladstone Screwer: I don't mean anything nasty. I'll marry you first.

Matron: Marry me? Are you mad? Marry me in the middle of the night?

Gladstone Screwer: Where I come from it's a very simple ceremony.

[He produced a knife. Matron screams]

Gladstone Screwer: It's all right, nothing to worry about. We just make a quick cut in each other's left hand, put them together, say "We are one" and it's all legal.

Matron: Oh... I see... sort of instant wedlock?

Gladstone Screwer: That's it. Only out there they call it a bleedin' ceremony.

Matron: Yes, they often call it that here too.

Gladstone Screwer: Right, are you ready then?

Matron: No! I have no urge to marry you.

Gladstone Screwer: Oh, don't worry about that. The urge comes later!

Matron: [as prison guard reads writ of execution] All right, read it here. Can't you read it to yourself?

Prison guard: I guess I could do that. Maybe if I just mumbled it would be all right.

Matron: Mumble and be damned.

Matron: You've done such magnificent work. And that's what makes it so difficult to send you away. But I must.