"GOOD evening you big, Bill Bailey bus-burgling buggers."
Entering on mobility scooters as the Old Gits, this is Harry and Paul's irreverent way of introducing themselves to the locals.
It's a reference, of course, to the tea leaves who pinched comedian Bailey's tour bus from outside the Phil last month.
It is also a pointer to what still makes this duo an edgy attraction after their 25 years together: a vast wardrobe of comically twisted and exaggerated British stereotypes, constantly evolving through contemporary references and prepared to gleefully step well over the line of political correctness and good taste.
The curly permed, muzzied, trackie-bottomed ones cracking jokes about stolen videos and spewing a spurt of 'Dee do doh don't dee' got some of the the biggest laughs of the night
Mostly, it works, as with the Bailey reference. Sometimes, though, it doesn't, as with Enfield's taking the mick out of Liverpool and Everton at the expense of our Manc neighbours.
As he ruefully reflected from the stage: "That went down like a fucking lead balloon".
A couple of the characters too seem a bit tired such as self-proclaimed Son of Wad, Enfield's Loadsamoney, who now appears a lot less provocative in this era of gold digger footballers and corrupt bankers.
There was also much to enjoy, though.
The huge backdrop of old fashioned TV, which screened amusing segues into the next sketch, allowed the duo to make the many necessary costume changes from the posh surgeons to The Scousers,
Debatably, it is the latter characters who have left the biggest indelible imprint on the nation's psyche, albeit at our expense.
Do we mind? On this showing, not a bit of it.
The curly permed, muzzied, trackie-bottomed ones cracking jokes about stolen videos, doing John Bishop impressions and spewing a spurt of "Dee do doh don't dee dohs" got some of the the biggest laughs of the night with barely a "Calm down! Calm down!" in sight.
Among the other hilarity highlights in un-PC mode were Homophobic Dad and Chalmondly- Warner's 'Women Know Your Limits' diatribe.
The unfortunate target in this case was actress Catherine Shepherd the only other member of the cast. Why no Kathy Burke as Waynetta Slob?, you may ask.
This was bluntly explained away courtesy of husband Wayne: "She's dead. She exploded on a trip to Poundland."
A favourite moment of the night - and the most creepily funny - was a spiv-like Paul trying to chat up Harry, dressed as a sweet-selling cinema usherette, so he can get his hands on her Tuppenny Butterquims. Oo-er.
There were only two major downers, however, and it had nothing to do with the performance.
Now, the Arena is a superb place and this reviewer has always found the staff to be very helpful and friendly as they were for this (thanks, Kate!).
But the over-long interval for drinks destroyed the momentum built up in the first half as it did at a John Bishop gig late last year. It's the alternative version to getting off at Edge Hill.
And, unlike the Bishop performance, for most of Legends there was no large screen to relay on-stage action, imperative for stand-up at such a large venue.
As the duo's Self Righteous Brothers might bellow: "Oi! Long breaks without big screens ..... NO-O-O-O-O-O-O!"