“Why leave anything on your front lawn or under your porch or on your driveway when you can store all that stuff my way at ‘Jones Big Ass Depository & Storage Facility‘.”
“I know you’ve got stuff lying around that you don’t want or you don’t need no more.”
“You know you aren’t going to use those clapped out 40-year-old diesel trains. Why keep them around your house? Bring them down here to my house!”
“What’s in this box? I don’t know; not my business.”
“What’s in this large, suspiciously glowing dredger coming across from Somerset? I don’t know; not my business.”
“What’s in this housing association let HMO in a quiet Pembrokeshire village? I don’t know; not my business.”
“You don’t need all this crap. I’m gonna tell you what to do with this: throw it into my yard! I don’t care!”
“For you, I can do all this for the low, low price of £1,222million a month or £14.7billion a year. You can’t beat that!”
“Hell, you can barely build a motorway around Newport for that!”
“Now friends, you may ask yourself, ‘How the hell can he store so much for such a low, low price?'”
“The secret: My Big Ass is the size of Wales!”
“I can store anything, no questions asked: white-flighters, good-lifers, prisoners, elderly relatives you don’t give a shit about, low-flying jet fighters, military firing ranges, nuclear submarines.”
“We’ll welcome yo’ jobs and yo’ money. Jobs at any cost! Ain’t no difference between a good job and a bad job if it’s done right.”
“Economic productivity? Show me that green instead.”
“Your Scouse uncle’s unemployable, has a nasty heroin habit and you’re fed up with him whining about living by the sea. I can fold him up, put him on my back on a bicycle and bring him here on your old Yamaha motorcycle.”
“Remember, it’s the Size of Wales! Do you know how big a Wales is!?”
