Well, bleedin' asked me, didn't he?

Mycroft:

[playing a Brigadier inspecting the training camp in response to some private who has 'complained to his MP' regarding the food] [enters Mess Hall] Mycroft:
Carry on eating. Any complaints here? Captain Saunders:
Come along now. Answer the Brigadier. Other Private in Mess:
No, Sir. Mycroft:
You're, um, quite satisfied with the food. You can speak quite freely. Chunky Grogan:
Well, er, No, Sir. Not always, Sir. [CSM gives a menacing look] Mycroft:
What exactly don't you like about it? Chunky Grogan:
Well, er, they sometimes give you good grub, sir, but, er, they mess it about like. Mycroft:
How do you mean, mess it about? Chunky Grogan:
Well, take Sunday, Sir. I mean, er, we had a fair whack of the old roast and that and gravy and stuff, but they messed it about like. You know. Mycroft:
Specifically? Chunky Grogan:
Beg your pardon sir? Mycroft:
What did they do to it? Chunky Grogan:
Oh1 Oh, well, I'm not a cook am I? I only go by what I taste, like, and, er, it didn't taste right, see. It sort of tasted like they'd messed it about, like. Mycroft:
What's this man's name? Captain Saunders:
Mmm? C.S.M.:
Grogan, Sir. Mycroft:
That's all, is it? Chunky Grogan:
Well, that was only last Sunday, sir. Mycroft:
What about today's meal? Chunky Grogan:
Oh, well, very fair, sir. You know, if you like eggs. I mean, they're not great favourites of mine, but, er, you've gotta eat them to keep your strength up, like. Mycroft:
[sucks air through teeth]
Yes. [walks off with entourage] Other Private in Mess:
[other privates at table congratulate worthy Grogan, clapping him on the back]
Well done, Rolly. Chunky Grogan:
Well, bleedin' asked me, didn't he?