"Counter Strike" is where a gentleman in a drinking establishment enthusiastically raps the bar with the palm of his hand in order to gain the attention of the barkeep, so he may be served a small glass, or "shooter", of gin, or in some cases sherry.

Balfour? Of the Buckinghamshire Balfour St.John-Smythes? I believe I went to Sandhurst with your father, Rupert Balfour St.John-Smythe. I haven't seen you since you were a young chap, oh, yay high. Big things were planned for you my boy, but the House of Commons? That won't do. Surprised Rupe didn't buy you a…

Indubitably!

"And (expletive deleted) Uplay."

I think it may be time to have one of the servants check your spell checking functionality, old boy.

Why would a chap want to go to the trouble of meeting a wench with one of those newfangled computing boxes when one could simply hire an omnibus and head down to Whitechapel where there are dozens of bawdy strumpets to choose from?

Frightfully sorry old bean, one of the rules of entering this gentlemen's club is we don't question the Nintendo ardour expressed between most of the chaps here. I don't particularly understand it, I damn well don't like it, but blast your eyes if you think I won't defend the right of these gentlemen to go about their…

My dear boy, when dealing with impudent blighters, and this fellow is most definitely an impudent blighter, one must not sink down to their level. Fatal error that.

Now now old boy, one shall not tolerate this besmirchment of the travails undertaken by this superb institution. This is an affront and I demand satisfaction! Rapiers at dawn, sir!

I say old chap, one feels compelled to inform you that this is not how we conduct ourselves here in this fine gentleman's club.