Sit down, you!

Oliver:
We're not going to the mess hall. We're not going to eat. Prison Guard:
You're not going to eat? Stanley:
No, we're on a hunger strike. Oliver:
Imfatically. Prison Guard:
What? You're going to pass up that nice, big roast turkey with chestnut dressing, and sweet potatoes Southern style, great big pans of hot biscuits, and strawberry shortcake smothered in whipped cream, sprinkled with powdered sugar, with a nice, big maraschino cherry on the top of it. Course, followed by a... a nice, big slice of ice cold watermelon and a big, black cigar. Stanley:
Any nuts? Prison Guard:
All you can eat of them. Stanley:
How about postponing the strike 'til tomorrow? Oliver:
Well... But not one minute after tomorrow. Prison Guard:
Come on, fall in! Stanley:
[later; Stan sees their meal of gruel]
Hey! What about that turkey dinner? Prison Guard:
[shouts]
Sit down, you!