Episode 7 The Thick of It

This programme contains very strong language from the start and adult humour.

We're on dual commentary. Yeah, like the tennis.

Yeah, sadly without Boris Becker.

I'm surprised Sue Barker doesn't sink her teeth into his thighs, aren't you?

OK, team, we need to get it out there that the police arrest backlog

is not a DoSAC FUBAR, OK?

The Home Office cut paperwork, there are more bobbies on the beat.

No-one to process them at the stations.

I doubt there are any major criminals on the loose, this is about paperwork,

it's not Con Air! I mean, I wish it was!

-That to Peter.

-Oh, good morning, Minister!

How did it go with the DPM?

Oh, so that good. I've got to go.

Anyone read Wolf Hall?

I'm just shuttling messages between them.

I'm like a blue-bottomed fly, frankly. Ah! From Fergus.

It's the one set on a plane.

No, that's Snakes on a Plane.

This one is Nicolas Cage on a plane.

Heaven's sake!

Look, Phil,

every petty criminal in the country is in a holding pattern because...

that barrel of cocks at the Home Office can't process

their arrests quick enough, so why am I the one

who has to gimp himself out all day to Martha Kearney and Eddie Mair?

Since the inquiry DoSAC looks toxic and weak. They're trying to pile

-all the Government's ills on us.

-Whose fault's that?

I said I'm sorry about the inquiry, OK?

I started writing you a letter but it seemed pretentious. If it's consolation,

I haven't felt that humiliated since my trunks fell down at a swimming gala.

It's of no consolation to think of you naked in front of 500 boys.

Yeah, absolutely, Trevor. OK, yeah, drinks soon.

Yeah, you too. OK, bye.

Oh, God!

I just felt my ovaries cringe!

I'm trying to flirt our way out of this police backlog.

Peter, quick reminder, Think Socially,

-the social enterprise scheme, we're launching it tomorrow.

-Sod that!

I need to keep a low profile, give it to Fergus and Adam.

Sorry, Han, can I just put you on pause there?

-I'm in the minister's office.

-Oh, great!

-Oh, no, the proper one!

I'm just pausing you there. Mary Drake.

From the Home Office, she's going to come over, fancies a chat.

But I told old Iron Blouse that I'd talk to her presently!

-What part of that sentence doesn't she understand?

-Just thought you'd like to know.

Don't want to be accused of being a barricade or anything!

ALL: Blockage.

Look, things were said at that inquiry, Terri...

They certainly were.

Well, can you just be a fucking professional and get Fergus in here?

I am an F-wording professional.

Wait, wait, Terri, can you give this to Fergus,

and tell him he's going to front Think Socially tomorrow?

-Ah. Yeah, OK, err, um, Peter, may I just...

-No, you may not.

I thought we weren't talking to the Proclaimers.

We have to play happy families for Mary, pretend I don't want

to strangle Fergus's bollocks so they look like glace cherries.

Sorry. Can I?

-Christ, you just can't flush her.

-Can I borrow her?

Yeah, but there's a fine if you don't bring her back.

It should be a fine if you DO bring her back.

Ever since this inquiry, Mannion and Fergus,

-their communication has totally broken down.

-Yes.

-Which is why we have the double stamp system.

-Yeah...

No decisions without a dual approval, what?

Occasionally, just because of a, well...

a time-sensitive decision, I have got a stamp from Peter,

but unfortunately been unable to locate Fergus.

OK, let's fast-forward to the bit where I don't want to eat my own lips off.

In order to prevent a Fergal paper jam,

I have stamped certain decisions

based on what I imagined he might think.

So, you have approved a policy that Fergus is going to launch,

that Fergus knows nothing about?

-Sort of.

-Sort of, or sort of exactly?

Sort of exactly.

You're telling me that you have been running parts of this country?

What the fuck are you trying to do, prove the Mayans right?

Ha-ha! "Dear Jim, please could you fix it for me for two departments

"to fuck up on the same day?" "Yes, I can!"

So, this government arrest backlog is a really lovely gift token...

-Mmm.

-The question is, what does Daddy buy with it?

Err, you, the daddy man, err, you could...

how about you point up the split between the HO and DoSAC?

-Take the sort of, a "government divided" route.

-Nice.

Meanwhile, an unarrested feral underclass has gone Mad Max,

and police station waiting rooms are heaving like the hedgehog carvery at a Gypsy wedding.

PHONE RINGS

Oh, I do apologise, excuse me. I need to take this.

-We need to drop Malcolm.

-Right.

-I can't get on my high horse

about crime issues the day after my director of communication

may have, ie definitely HAS, committed perjury.

And I like getting on my high horse.

I look good on it. Like a knight.

So they're actually going to pursue this?

Right. Thanks for the heads-up, mate, yeah.

Listen, I need a police station with a lot of exits and entrances,

in case the press show up.

Sam. Sam, Sam. Brentford, right, OK.

Listen, Sam. Get a hold of Greg Fraser for me. I need some hard lawyering.

-OK.

-Pink. Pink, pink flowers.

-Pink.

-For my mother. It's her 80th birthday.

Lovely big bouquet of pink ones.

Lovely. How are you doing?

I'm bitchin', yes, I'm as busy as a two-twatted hooker.

Great. I was thinking, Malcolm...

Maybe you should take a bit of time off, just maybe tour the Highland distilleries,

or whatever it is your people do, you know? Take up stunt kiting.

Well, we don't take advice from a guy who looks like he gels his hair by sticking it up a cow's vagina.

All right, fair enough.

-Here's an idea that you could pitch to Millertron 3,000.

-Yes.

Get him to go to a police station, yeah?

-But pick a big one, right?

-Right.

-Lewisham. It's more impact in a big one.

-Yeah, yeah.

-But make sure you get as many press there as possible.

-Yeah. OK.

Dan Miller is visiting a police station.

What? Why? Why, why aren't I visiting a police station?

-Why didn't you think of that?

-Yes, why didn't you think of that?

-I did, I nearly did, OK?

I was about to think of that. Christ, it's like Harry Potter all over again.

I thought of that, I just didn't write it down.

It was Gandalf at school, but same principle.

-Fergus has got an idea about the police backlog, just tell him.

-Yeah, I'm going to.

It is basically an issue of manpower, so we outsource, we get the private sector in to clear it up.

It's problem solved, it's obvious, really.

-Yeah, yeah. Yes, you, yes, it is obvious, that's two obvious things you've missed today.

-Idiot!

-Yeah, what do you think?

-No, I think it's good,

-I mean, private sector dives in and saves us, it plays well for us.

-Thank you.

Till we get the bill! Cos we got no money.

Anyway, I'm just popping out to Tesco Metro, anyone want a yoghurt?

No, Glenn, no.

Ah, Peter. This War of the Roses with the Home Office?

It ends now. We want a united realm.

There's no vision in division.

Well, yes, there is. Anyway, tell Perkin Warbeck over there.

OK, people, could we briefly form a coherent group?

Mary Drake is in the building, she's on her way up.

OK. Shields up, guys. Centurions, we're forming a tortoise.

OK. Terri. Think Socially.

Did I sign off on this?

Because I hadn't heard of Think Socially until I said it just then.

-OK, er...

-So what is it?

-Simple explanation.

-Love to hear it.

-Yeah. Very...

-Oh, God, here's Mary.

Bunch up, everyone, so she doesn't see the corpses.

Look, synchronise lies, all right?

Mary, hi, hi. Emma. We met at the away day.

I so enjoyed our mood play.

Yes. You actually did, didn't you?

Ah, you must be the legendary Terri.

I've heard a great deal about you.

-Oh, please, don't believe everything that you hear.

-I fully intend not to.

-Stewart, shakras balanced?

-Er...sorry. Tiny bit of housekeeping.

Terri, um, er...Think Socially. Just checking in on that.

Yes. Yes, it's a go thing. Double stamped, yes.

Mary. Great to see you again.

I'm here in an angry capacity.

Ah! The cream in our coffee, Mary.

The message from the Home Office is this,

"Move away from the backlog, there's nothing to see.

"Let the police do their jobs, let us do ours."

-Sorry to be, er...contrary, Mary.

-HE CHUCKLES

But, er...Peter and I have just been discussing this very issue.

Shut up. Let me tell you something now.

DoSAC is one rat's whisker away

from being shut down and subsumed by the Home Office

and put in charge of cocking up the tea run!

And I like mine weak and white.

Like my men.

Stewart, any thoughts from within your fucking dream yurt?

I will go and try and defrag this situation.

But I am staying strictly macro.

Subtitles. You need subtitles!

Sorry, er, Think Socially.

Terri, would you mind explaining rationally why I appear to be giving

a ringing endorsement to a piece of shit that I've never even heard of?

-It's not my fault, it's the double stamping nonsense, that's the reason.

-Oh, really?

-Yeah.

Because, right now, I want to double stamp on your fucking throat.

I'm taking that seriously as a physical threat.

You know, one of the many, many things that baffles me about you is you remain unmurdered!

What time are we due at the Mirror?

-Oh, not for another hour.

-Oh, OK.

Got plenty of time to get into your Boudica mode.

I am woman, hear me roar!

Get your jugs out, get on your chariot.

SHE CHUCKLES

Crikey!

I think, given that I'm hoping to get back into cabinet at some point,

I might...keep my jugs in the cupboard.

THEY CHUCKLE

Or...I suppose I could always pop one of them out

if the interview's flagging.

It's an option!

Um... I did apologise, didn't I, for telling you to fuck off?

Yes.

Good. Because I, you know, I didn't mean it.

I wouldn't be here if I thought you meant it.

I've got plenty of places to fuck off to.

It's a big funeral home, isn't it?

KNOCK ON DOOR

-M Tucker.

-Olly.

-Malcolm.

Um, we need to have a little chat.

You're not splitting up with me, are you?

Because I'm pregnant and it's quads, so, you know. You're not laughing.

Well, I'm laughing on the inside.

Which is a tad ironic,

-because I'm leaving here in five minutes to get arrested.

-Hang on.

Sorry, er...you're going to be arrested at the exact same time

that Dan Miller's doing his Lewisham walkabout?

Yeah. But I'm going to Brentford where nobody will be watching me

because they'll all be with him.

So the Leader of the Opposition is going to be filmed at a police station

at the exact moment as his Head Of Communications is being arrested.

Yes! OK, great, great, so that's a sack full of face-chewing rats,

-thank you very much.

-Look, it's... this is what you have to deal with, right?

It's just another day at the fuck office.

So now, I have to step into your shoes, but after you've shat in them?

Olly, look at me. I'm not pulling anything out of a magic hat.

The rabbits have fallen to pieces,

their fucking heads are coming off and frightening the kids.

So somebody else is going to have to help out.

Well, who says I even want to be you, Malcolm?

-Who says that?

-Nobody says that.

Except every screaming atom of that etiolated stick of fuck you call a body says that.

Every fibre of your being, every stamen...says that.

But you are not me, Olly.

No.

And you never will be me.

I knew Malcolm F Tucker, sir.

And you are not Malcolm Fucking Tucker.

You're not even fucking Manchester's top Malcolm Tucker tribute band.

And trying to be me, you?

Trying to be me will fucking kill you. I give you 18 months

before you're a washed-out, weeping alcoholic

with no fucking bladder control.

Sleeping on your brother-in-law's sofa.

And so on and so on, it doesn't have to be like that now, Malcolm,

politics has actually changed.

-Oh?

-Right. Yeah, yeah. And you probably haven't noticed because you've been on transmit

for the last fucking eight years Waa-waa-waa-waa-waa!

And whilst you've been doing that, everybody else has been changing,

and it's all a bit softcore now, it's all a bit algorithms now.

You don't have to be Malcolm Tucker to sit in that chair.

Oh, how quickly they grow up. You fucking think you know me?

Well, yeah. Yeah, I know you.

You know Jackie fucking Chan about me.

You know fuck all about me!

I am totally beyond the realms of your fucking tousle-haired,

fucking dim-witted compre-fucking-hension.

I don't just take this fucking job home, you know.

I take this job home, it fucking ties me to the bed,

and it fucking fucks me from arsehole to breakfast.

Then, it wakes me up in the morning with a cup full of piss

slammed in my face, slaps me about the chops,

to make sure I'm awake enough so it can kick me in the fucking bollocks.

This job has taken me in every hole in my fucking body.

Malcolm is gone, you can't know Malcolm,

because Malcolm is not here!

Malcolm fucking left the building fucking years ago!

This is a fucking husk.

I am a fucking host for this fucking job.

Do you want this job?

-Yeah.

-Yes, you do fucking want this job.

Then, you're going to have to fucking swallow this whole fucking life

and let it grow inside you like a parasite.

Getting bigger and bigger and bigger until it fucking eats your insides alive

and it stares out of your eyes and tells you what to do.

Malcolm, this sounds like the fucking video you leave on YouTube

after you've blown your brains out.

I'm as dead as fucking 2 Tone.

But I can fashion my own exit.

Oh, Christ! What, are you going to fly to Switzerland

and have a wank off a nurse and a bye-bye pill, are you?

Funny, funny man.

Political exit.

No, I know.

I'm going to leave the stage with my head held fucking high, right?

What you're going to see is a masterclass in fucking dignity, son.

The audience will be on their feet. "There he goes," they'll say.

"No friends, no real friends. No children, no glory, no memoirs."

Well, fuck them.

-Hello.

-Hello.

Hi. Nicola Murray, Leader of... Oh! I've got to stop saying that.

-Hello. Helen, hi.

-Declan.

Declan, hi.

-Nice to see you again.

-Yes, again, er...

Do you not remember me?

I, I'm so sorry, you look very familiar,

but it's just I meet so, well, I met so many people.

You're for the chop!

SHE CHUCKLES

Oh, right. You're... OK!

-Uh-huh!

-Mr Chop. Yeah.

I'll look forward to giving you a bit of a grilling!

-Well, this might be your chance, I'm the one doing the interview.

-Are you? Great.

-Here we...

-Here's an old friend.

-Hello. Oh, yeah.

-Wow! Yeah.

Still, still doing that joke!

Big, though, isn't it?

Um, if you'd just excuse us for one minute, Mr Ch... Um...

-Declan.

-Declan, Declan, yes, yes, yes, of course.

-Yeah, sorry.

-I just need a quick strategy chat.

-Sure.

I am...ever so close to being on the verge

of balling my fucking eyes out disappointed about this.

I mean, this was it, was it? What was the alternative?

Going on Strictly Come Dancing

and doing a fucking hookie waltz with Abu Hamza?

This is pretty low. This is lower than my mother's pelvic floor, Helen.

I had to virtually go on the game to get you this.

So frankly, I don't care if he wants to roll around in apple sauce with you,

get in there and do as you're told.

Right. I will go, because I'm choosing to go in,

but I just need you to know, for the record...

Just get in there before I push you in.

If they video this as well, I'm going to swallow my own fucking thumbs.

OK.

-So, sorry about that, yes, just...

-Not at all.

Now, we're going to be videoing this too, if that's OK,

so I thought interview first, then, I'll get myself into my chop costume and we do a little double act.

What news from the front, my hardy legionnaires?

Er...Forest Hill running smooth, Croydon lag time, get it?

Down 15 minutes, slamming the hoods.

Boom! Fuck the Home Office.

-Yeah.

-Double stamped.

-Fuck the police!

-No, that doesn't work.

-Christ, I haven't felt this alive for months.

I feel like I've had a health scare.

OK. Dan Miller's station visit's on.

He's going to be meeting and greeting. Urgh!

-Er, Emma, which police station is it?

-Lewisham.

Actually, Phil, how long is the waiting time there?

Well, that's a big nick. Tough nut to crack.

Phil, can you stop pretending you're in The Sweeney and just give me a fucking fact?

-How long?

-It's coming down. Hour, hour and a half, tops.

-OK.

So listen, I was thinking of learning a new language.

TELEPHONE RINGS

Oh, sorry, got to take that.

Oh! It's my sister.

Peter, we need to get as many staff as possible down to Lewisham, OK?

When Miller gets there, we need them to be processing like, like human Pentiums.

Yeah, I, I agree, I don't care who's queuing for arrest

or if they go on to kill again, Lewisham's the priority.

Brilliant! We make it seem like Dan Miller's the problem, he's wasting police time.

-He's the backlog.

-Err, Peter.

-Um? Yeah.

When you have a moment, can I get a quote on Malcolm's arrest?

-Malcolm?

-Tucker.

Malcolm Tucker's being arrested?

Well, I was thinking of coming down there in October anyway.

-What the fuck? This is...

-I've been getting calls for 15 minutes.

Not the same sources that told you David Beckham was running for mayor?

Malcolm's solicitor phoned the police, who phones journalists, and they tell me.

-And after all that people phoning you...

-Yes? Yes?

..then you just, then, you just have a little tuna salad, do you, watch Loose Women?

You lay an egg over there and...

Terri, Terri, can you spot who the blockage is in this office?

I have been getting on with doing exactly what you told me to,

-which was...

-What?

-..dealing with this arrest backlog.

-Can't you react to events? Fuck!

Yes, just doing one thing at a time, are you, because you're a uni-tasker?

All the press will focus on, right, is Malcolm's arrest,

-and not on anyone else who's being arrested, we have been trumped again!

-No, this is good.

We swoop in, sort the system, and we get Tucker in clink, it's a double stamp.

-Which police station's he going to?

-Brentford, apparently.

-Brentford.

Shit, it's off-grid! It'd be here, the vector would be here.

-Right.

-OK, listen up, everybody.

Forget Lewisham.

I want every warm body we've got down to Brentford.

Let's put the fucker in a cell with a genuine psychopath.

Can I just make sure that this is a double stamp?

This is a double stamp.

Yeah, well, don't worry, I can come down

and I'll have that wall whitewashed in about half an hour.

So you're telling me I literally cannot get arrested?

Look, I haven't got the staff to deal with the workload right now.

My client is doing everything he can to help you with your inquiries.

They are processing arrests at Lewisham, head down there.

-We can't go to Lewisham.

-Why not?

-Dan Miller's there, fondling truncheons.

-Oh!

-This, as you can see, is our control...

-Hello, Dan Miller, hello.

Hello, Dan Miller.

..room - nerve centre, shall we say? - where we've been

-managing the situation.

-Hi, Dan Miller.

So you must be incredibly concerned with the log jam we've been seeing.

Oh, absolutely, yesterday was a very challenging day.

I can imagine.

Yeah, but since we've had the additional help from the private contractors,

we're really getting on top of it.

Great. Well, well, yeah. Can I just...?

Oh, of course.

Olly. What the fuck are we doing here? Everything's fine.

I'm like lube at a funeral.

Yeah. I can't believe it but DoSAC have actually turned this around, they've Apollo 13'd it.

Fucking press!

Excuse me, is there another way out of here?

-You could hang yourself.

-Fuck off!

It's down there, turn right, on the left.

Have you heard that Malcolm Tucker's going to get arrested?

Two minutes, I will have something for you on that.

-Tell me that was a rhetorical question.

-Malcolm was supposed to get arrested quietly,

on the other side of town, but, obviously, it's actually got out.

How?

Do I have to say this? Do I have to say it out loud? Because the police...

Oh, why don't you say it out loud?

Yes, yes, maybe they can do me a favour and throw you down the fucking stairs.

This is basically the same fucking exit.

This is rubbish!

This is, this is literally rubbish.

Malcolm! Malcolm! There he is! There he is! Mr Tucker!

Hey! Get the fuck back here!

Jesus Christ.

OK, go. Go, go, go!

You drive off like that again and I'll stick your meter so far down your throat,

you'll be able to tell the price of your next shit.

Why the fuck have you brought me to a police station

when one of our most senior figures is about to be arrested?

Um...don't clasp your hands behind your back, it makes you look like you've been cuffed.

TELEPHONE RINGS

-Oh, it's him.

-Marvellous!

Put him on speakerphone, he might want to do an interview down the line.

-Oliver Reeder.

-'Olly, some press turned up at Brentford.'

I've just been chased into a cab. It's like Hard Day's fucking Night.

-'Where can I go?'

-Er...I'm hearing Hackney's good, 82% operational.

Olly, will you please keep the rest of the press there,

with Dan in Lewisham?

Please. I need my dignity.

-Come on, give me my fucking dignity...

-Er, thanks for calling.

OK, we need to get out of here as quickly as we possibly can.

-Thank you very much.

-That was really, er, wonderful. Carry on.

Super, super station. Love what you've done with it.

Malcolm's gone. What's happening? Did he escape?

No, the press were there, it was taking too long.

Christ's sake! It's Tora fucking Bora all over again.

Where did he go? We've got to get everyone there now.

I'll find out, I'll find out.

-Let's get a chopper in the air. Be like the OJ chase!

-He is getting bloody arrested today, OK?

Absolutely. It's legacy stuff - the men who threw Malcolm Tucker in the slammer!

Can I just say my idea for pop-up prisons doesn't seem so stupid now.

Oh, blah, blah! Being this close won't... Hackney, Hackney!

-Where's Hackney?

-There. That's Hackney, right there.

-OK, OK, it's my manor.

Adam, Adam, make it happen. Boots on the ground, yeah?

This is fucking awesome, it's like COBRA! I hope I get defence next.

-Want the headset now, don't you?

-Fuck off.

I'm making myself an Earl Grey, Glenn. Can I get you something?

No, I'm tea-d out, thank you, Terri.

-Oh. Do you want a hand?

-You could open that cupboard door.

Are you moving offices or something?

Yeah, you could say that. I'm going to a prison cell.

-Oh, Glenn!

-Yeah.

-No!

-Yeah.

I've decided I'm going to resign.

Then after that I'm going to go to a police station and hand myself in.

-No, no, no, no...

-I perjured myself at the inquiry, Terri.

They'll find out. They always do.

I'll have a roof over my head, three meals a day and regular sex.

I might even work out. Get some abs.

What about your sister, Glenn? You've got to whitewash her walls!

Come out, everyone!

Tally-ho!

Yoo-hoo!

Come on, bring out your fucking dead.

Right, everybody, listen. I've got an announcement to make.

-Erm...

-What is it? Have you got an erection?

-No.

I would like to tell you all that I'm resigning.

-Is that it?

-No, you closeted Regency homosexual, that is not it.

Morally, this department is in the gutter.

-Thanks for the speech, Glenn, but we have work...

-You stay and take the punishment!

-Hoo-hoo-hoo!

-I will lamp you, with a lamp.

-Glenn, you've gone a tiny bit psychotic, my love.

You, Fergus,

when you asked me to join you, all you had was your principles,

but over the last two years, you've bent like a human fucking palm tree,

swaying to the guff of these six-toed, born-to-rule pony fuckers.

If you're going to go, just go.

-Oh!

-Spare us this Peter Finch bullshit.

Adam, you're waiting for your turn!

Oh, no, I remember!

It's your turn right now!

Brilliant. Bring it.

-You are simply the most loathsome human being I have ever met.

-Yeah.

You were so well suited at the Mail, it's a shame you came over here.

Hear, hear!

Do you know what? I hate you both. Tweedletwat and Tweedleprick.

You contribute absolutely nothing to the world,

so thank fucking God you have no power.

-Er, we do actually. It's...

-No, you don't.

And, Peter, it's been dreadful. I hope your cock falls off.

Phil, do you know what you are? You're like an eight-year-old trapped in a 12-year-old's body.

This is great! Why is no-one filming this?

-And Emma.

-Yeah, yeah, do Emma, do Emma.

Yeah. Emma, I'm sorry, you're just a standard-issue insipid posh bitch.

That's it!

Terri!

Oh! Whoa, whoa!

I don't think I've ever met anyone quite so proud,

and yet quite so useless.

But I do have to thank you, because I have managed to stay in shape

purely through the energy I spend in pitying you every day.

Glenn, you're just embarrassing yourself.

Fuck you all up the wrong 'un! Ta-ta! Bye-bye!

That was better than IMAX Inception.

EMMA: Poor, poor Glenn.

Should we try and get him back?

Fuck, no! He's gone completely mental.

He's gone Glenn-tal.

There he is, there he is!

Malcolm! Can you tell us why you're here today?

Why are you here today, Malcolm?

Are you here to be arrested?

Nothing to say.

THEY SHOUT OVER EACH OTHER

Nothing to say. There's nothing to say.

Out of my way, you fucking human Mooncup.

Have a bit of class.

Is this arrest by appointment, Mr Tucker?

You do not have to say anything.

However, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned

something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be...

Malcolm! Malcolm!

THEY SHOUT OVER EACH OTHER

Quiet! Quiet! Quieten down!

-Quieten down!

-Give us something.

I have a brief statement I will read on behalf of my client.

"I am innocent of all charges and vow to do everything in my power to clear my name.

"I will fight this all the way, and I am confident no jury will be able

"to look me in the eye and say anything other than I am an innocent man.

"But to avoid any distraction to my official duties,

"and to begin preparations for my acquittal,

"I am standing down as senior communications officer to my party,

"and, with heavy heart, I am leaving top-tier politics for good."

That is all we have to say at this time. Thank you.

Have you anything further to add?

No, I want to say something, I want to say something.

Doesn't matter.

THEY SHOUT OVER EACH OTHER

Have you been sacked, Mr Tucker?

'..standing down as senior communications officer to my party...'

-Oh, I do feel grubby.

-I feel fucking great! It's a huge scalp.

Size of a pizza!

How about a toast to the old bastard's hopeful incarceration

with a fine 12-year-old Glen-fuck it?!

WOMAN LAUGHS

I haven't worked all that long,

or all that closely with Malcolm Tucker,

but I wish him luck in clearing his name,

although, obviously, if he is found guilty,

then the full weight of the law should be...

Oh, sorry. Full force of the law should be...

I haven't worked all that long...

With him gone, um, I feel fresh hope we can mend

and rebuild a credible politics of integrity and honour.

So, er, thank you very much for coming,

I look forward to seeing much more of you in the coming weeks and months.

Not you, Rod, obviously. You're a twat.

But... In spite of the awards, er, er, for being a twat, I believe.

So, thanks, fellas. Don't be strangers.

-Oh, Phil, is it too much for you?

-It's strong!

-Oh, poor old Phil!

Did you get it in your eye?

I've got an image now of you puking up on some stripper's shoes

and then bursting into tears.

Drinking on the job, Peter. Why not? You've already got the efficiency of a man who's half-cut.

Oh, then I must have dreamt that my idea had successfully reduced the arrest backlog.

-DoSAC did do rather well today, er, actually.

-Thank you.

But there's a conspicuous blockage that will lead to a personnel change.

Stewart, you're out. You're going to be pickled in a think tank.

-WOMAN:

-What?

Of course I am, Mary. And whose authority is this coming from, hmm?

The PM, whilst acknowledging the need for thoughts,

is keener on actions these days.

I'm going to be providing those.

Stewart, there's no need for you to clear your desk,

cos you're a walking thought pod, aren't you?

Absolutely. Thank you very much.

Thanks.

Um, you know...

I've spent ten years detoxifying this party, hmm?

It's been a bit like renovating an old, old house, yeah?

You can take out a sexist beam here, a callous window there,

replace the odd homophobic roof tile.

But after a while you realise that this renovation is doomed.

Because the foundations are built on what

I can only describe as a solid bed of cunts.

Wow!

EMMA: Bye, Stewart.

Bye-bye, Stewart.

Thanks for everything!

Sod it.

Now, if we can just get a couple of pictures,

someone will give you a knife and fork,

and if you can pretend to eat me.

What a great day!

Peter? Sorry, the Sun have just been on.

I'm afraid a prisoner who was accused of assaulting his wife was accidentally released,

-he's gone back and attacked the wife and children.

-Oh, shit in the couscous!

EMMA: Right, OK, we need a joint statement.

-Both departments were too busy with the backlogs.

-Fuck it all!

-Yeah, basically stuff fell through the cracks.

-Exactly.

-No-one's fault.

-Can this be double-stamped?

-Fuck the stamps!

And whose fault is it the man was released?

-Terri, meeting in my office.

-Well, uh, in Peter's office.

-Well, I'm meeting in my office.

I'm meeting in my office.

THEY ALL TALK OVER EACH OTHER

What a shit day!