" Where is Olly?" " I gave him the night off, you know." "He's gone home." "Relationship crisis." "(SIGHING)" "He's gotta go and cook Emma a meal." "Olly?" "Does he cook?" "I thought he lived off sandwiches and Tic Tacs." "Well, no." "Emma told him to, or else." "So, it's a critical moment." "Either it's going to be an engagement dinner or the last supper." " What's he cooking?" " Curry." "Oh." "You shouldn't be using Phil's courgettes, you know." "He counts them." " Phil counts his courgettes?" " Every night." "So I really wouldn't take his vegetables." "So long as he only counts them." "So long as he doesn't do anything else with them every night." "Don't worry about Phil." "I can take Phil." "Phil is basically held together by surface tension." "I'm sure you'll be pleased to know my daughter is being treated like a leper at school." "What?" "She's had her limbs amputated?" "What about if they push the vacation thing?" "What are your counterattacks?" "I've never had a vacation in my life, Phil." "In England we go on a fucking holiday and that's what I've had." "Stewart, Peter's got to give a talk to the CBI at lunch tomorrow." "I know he's talking to the CBI and I want him to deliver exactly the same message then directly to the fat cats' fat faces, yeah?" "I wanna see them hurling pigs' trotters and baby deer at him." "In fact, I'm sending photographers round specifically to capture that image." "Um, Peter's wondering whether that message might be better off coming from someone else?" "Phil, ask him this." "Is he Mannion 2.0, or Mannion 2-pointless?" "I can ask him that but he won't understand what it means." "You just start off about how great the City used to be, then how it's not so great now and then end with a joke." "It's the classic shit sandwich." "You know, bread, shit, bread." "Phil, if anyone bites into a shit sandwich, they don't say, "Mmm, bread."" "They say, "Oh, fuck!" "I've got a mouthful of shit." ""You mental bastard." "Why have you filled my sandwich with shit?"" "And another warning..." "Rice is difficult to get right." "Why is that?" "(CHATTERING ON RADIO)" "(EXHALING)" "God, this is hard work." "I feel like a guest on Harold Wilson's chat show." "(INCREASING VOLUME)" "BACON:" "All right, George Riley." "Thank you very much." "Coming up shortly, we've got what could be a rather fiery showdown between two political heavyweights." "Secretary of State for the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship" " Nicola Murray..." " Hello." "...and her opposition counterpart, Peter Mannion, who'll be... (WHOOPS) Man United." " What?" " Mannion-ited." "Man United, Mannion-ited." "...have tripled in the past year." " Your calls in a moment." " (MOUTHING)" "But first, quick thoughts on this news from you guys." "Peter Mannion?" "Oh, well..." "I'm struck with the parallels on your last story about Liverpool and the banking bonus story." "Nice." "Nice work." "Clever but blokey." "That's Clarkson logic." "Do you agree with what Peter Mannion said, Nicola Murray?" "Um..." "Well, as to its being an interesting analogy," "I mean, I couldn't comment." "I'm not a football fan." "Ah!" "Fantastic." "Live hara-kiri." "She's basically disembowelling herself on air." "Emma, poppet." "Look." "Peter is going almost violently off-message over at 5 Live, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to scramble you." " Okay." " Get your little tush over there." "Look, how do I explain this in terms that a girl from SW9 would understand?" "What I need you to do is put the saddle back on him and make him canter around the paddock, yeah?" "Be confident." "I mean, you ought to be." "You're a really good politician." "(SIGHS) Thanks, Glenn." "Nobody else thinks so." "Everybody else thinks I'm a bloody rubbish politician." "You don't listen to what other people say, okay?" "(WHISPERING) Isn't that the mark of a bloody good politician, that you fucking listen to what other people say?" "Good news, Nicola." "I've got Terri on it." "She's gonna have a word with the producer and give her some of the Coverley Charm, TM." "Great." "That's what wiped out the Aztecs." "(ON SPEAKER) I just need to have a quick word with you" " about Nicola Murray." " Right." "I'm quite busy." " It's a bit of a favour." " Right." "I wondered if there's any way you could ask Richard to just pull back a bit, not go too much in for the jugular on Nicola Murray because she's new to the job, put it that way." "It's just, in this sort of situation, a kind of clenching comes..." "Doesn't she have to speak in the House of Commons?" "Isn't that her job?" "terri:" "It is a medical matter, I'm afraid, 'cause she does suffer from panic attacks." "I mean, it's not like she's going to have a meltdown." "JANICE:" "Right." "Well, there's nothing I can do about..." " (CHATTERING CONTINUES)" " So, the..." "The speakers are just on all the time, are they?" "Yeah, I'm sorry about that." "We normally have a volume to be able to turn that down." "Terri." "Terri, we can hear everything you say." "(NICOLA LAUGHING)" "Which is quite distracting." "MALCOLM:" "Fucking sort it out, otherwise I'm going to come down there and I'm gonna carve the words "Katie" into your fucking cock shaft and "Peter" into your ball sac." "And we'll go for a very public and painful separation, okay?" "Yeah." "It smells of Brut." "Who fucking smells of Brut in this..." "It smells like Henry Cooper's catheter." "Again, technically, this all radio." "But it's great to be getting this straight from you." "Thanks." "We're not sending him to DoSAC to fatten him up." "We're putting him out to pasture, Malcolm." "Nicola, she's, you know..." "She's about as useful as a fucking dismembered torso at a fun run." "MALCOLM:" "What is this?" "Are you working in the railways or something?" " Yeah, well, it's real work, Malcolm." " You will need a job." "Because we're fucking winning the election, by the way." "Oh, right." "You've gazed into the crystal ball." "Good." "Yeah, and when we do, I'm gonna have you tied to the fucking London Eye and I'm gonna enjoy watching you being dragged underwater like the fucking baldy Simon Le Bon that you are." "As long as you're still thinking about me, Malcolm." "Nighty night." "Best be careful, now, 'cause I'm gonna tell this guy to try and fucking run you over." ""3 a.m. Girl Nicola Murray shed her dour image last night" ""at a do to preview DoSAC's new Back on Track scheme."" "Are those new glasses?" " Um..." " Oh, fucking hell." " Yes." " Poundland specials." "A bit more, as a matter of fact." "Was there an amnesty on taped-up 1970s frames, was it?" "Or did you just finally trip over the string?" "No, I just fancied a change, actually." "No." "Uh-uh." "You fear change, Glenn." "We know you fear change." "I remember your petition against locomotive transport." "I told you you'd overdone it with the make-up." "Nicola, honestly, it looks great, really." "I mean, with the lights and the way cameras are, you do need a lot on." "I don't want to look like Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." "I can actually feel it on my face." "It's actually weighing me down." "What are you gonna do when the shit goes down, then?" "Oh, plenty of options, Olly." "Really?" "Have you really?" "You've got plenty of options, have you?" "What are those options?" "Let's see." "You can't..." "You can't hold a golf sale sign because of your back." "You can't be a prostitute, 'cause your waterworks aren't up to it." "You can't be a drugs mule because of your arse." "That's too slack, isn't it?" "So what does that leave you with?" "You could be..." "Local weatherman would be perfect." "Or you could run a whelk stall." "How about that?" "You could be a dinner lady or a sleeping policeman." "Actually on the road." "Just lie down, let the cars..." "You could become one of those people who manipulates their cock and balls into funny shapes for the paying public." "It would be nice for them to have a little run out." "Or you could just basically walk into a hospice and wait to kark it." "What kind of a name is Unify?" "Unify." "Uni." "Come on." "Uni." "University." "It's like universities." "What does "fy" stand for?" "It's a very good..." "It's a good name." "Not, it's not." "It's a stupid name." "Well, fuck you." "It's better than Back on Track, which sounds like some Z-list soap actor's autobiography." "Well, fuck you, then." "That's what it stands for." "Fuck you, because Olly nicked it." "GLENN:" "So it's Uni-Fuck-You." "OLLY:" "No, I didn't nick it." "We openly collaborated." "Ben, we openly collaborated, like the people of the Channel Islands." " Olly, thank God that you're safe." " I'm, er..." "Sorry." "That's from me, Cack Ephron." "It's a coded message basically telling you that if you ignore me or my fucking calls again, I'll fucking rip your head off, right?" "I'll fucking plant a palm tree in your neck and I'll fuck you fucking tenderly in its shade." "I can tell you've been away." "You're threats are including palm trees now." " Sit down, Malcolm." " I'd really rather stand, thank you." "Fine, I'll stand, too." " Oh, sit the fuck down." " No." "Well, look." "Just talk, then." "Okay." "Why didn't you move the interview?" "Oh, this is ridiculous." "I'm going to sit down." "Yes." "I've never lost a game of standy-sitty in my fucking life." "Right." "I'm thinking of calling out for some quality pizza." "Get in." "That is good." "Don't get the..." "When you say quality, don't get the posh ones because they've got pears and shit on them." "The Fourth Sector is basically just a policy booby trap for the next lot when they get in, isn't it?" "Hey, yes." "That's not a bad idea." "What we could do is think up some more to fuck them when they arrive." "Excellent." "Slow pedestrian lanes on pavements." "Training your pets to sign for parcels when you're not in." "Apprentice apprentices for older apprentices to pass on their skills to younger apprentices." "Higher rate of tax for racists." "The Daily Mail forced to publish a special version in a Chinese accent." "How about that?" "In English still, but in a Chinese accent." "The Daily Mail?" "Daily Mail." " (IN CHINESE ACCENT) House price shock." " Yeah." "Jesus Christ." "Crosby, Still, Nash and fucking Young." "Look at the lot of you." "It's like walking into an installation at the Tate Gallery that everybody's forgotten about." "GLENN:" "No, well, actually, what we were doing..." "The Prime Minister has fallen over." "He's fucked his arm up, right?" "In public," " on fucking film." " (BEN LAUGHING)" "I suppose you find it funny, too." "You great big fat fucking cheese wheel." "OLLY:" "This is bad." "People are going to start using words like "government" and "topple" and "broken" and "tit"." "terri:" "I've got some terrible, terrible news," " Secretary of State." " What?" "(WHISPERING) I'm afraid the Prime Minister has..." "Yeah." "No, no, no." "I know, he's fallen over." "Right." "Um..." "See you." "I know about you." "I know about your drawer." "I know about your Minstrels, I know about your fucking Crunchies." "Uh-huh." "Get me a fucking Curly Wurly, right?" "Otherwise I'm gonna get my latex gloves and I'm gonna make some very interesting fucking balloon animals out of your fucking intestines." "(BLOWING)" "Get to it." "Fucking Willy Wonka." " Right." "Where's Hale and Pacemaker?" " TERRl:" "Who?" "Glenn and fucking Olly." "Where are they?" "I don't know." "Well, I just heard that they were making a lot of calls, you know." "They're making more fucking calls than Les Dennis in the dead of night." "Look, I asked them to ring around a few people and say that I wasn't standing." "It's just..." "We couldn't just do nothing." "What's gonna happen now?" "What do you think they're gonna think when they get a telephone call saying to them" "Nicola Murray is not standing?" "They'll think Nicola Murray is not standing." "No, these people are gonna think you are standing." "Why?" "Are these people stupid people?" "No, because all these people will hear are the words" ""Nicola Murray", "going to" and fucking "stand"." "That's the exact opposite of what I've asked them to say." "Exactly." "Look, if I was to come up to you and very deliberately say," ""I am not about to stab you." What would you think?" "I would probably think you were about to stab me." "But to be perfectly honest, Malcolm, if you said to me, "Hello,"" "or, "Do you want to come out for a pint?"" "I'd probably interpret that as meaning you were about to stab me." "Yeah, but you see my point, don't you?" "The thing is, unless we discredit you right now, you will have no fucking career left." "And another high profile fucking casualty is gonna be about as welcome as a turd on a trampoline." "You're gonna have to fucking stab yourself in the back." " Stab myself in the back?" " Yeah." "I don't even know how I would do that." "Scythe?" "I don't do drugs." "I never have done drugs." "I rarely drink." "I've spent my whole life being moral, being good." " No one's done that." " Yeah, well, I have, okay?" "Well, let us start at the very beginning." "That's a very good place to start." "What is..." "What is it, you seem to ask, like Paxman..." "Don't get me started on him." "But seriously, this cake is a microcosm of..." "This cake is a microcosm of society." "And what we want to do is we want to take that fourth slice and put it back on the plate and make the cake whole, with all of its four slices and then put it in the oven and re-bake it." "Put it into an oven of community and bake that cake so that every sector, but mostly the Fourth Sector, is probably back in there and covered with the icing of Social Affairs and Citizenship." "All right, well, I mean, I just don't like him." "I mean, he's so self-absorbed." "All he does is talk about tennis and how he's doing in the tennis." "Well, he is a tennis player." "Glenn, Bono is a musician, but you hardly ever hear him talking about music." "So, all this is homemade, is it?" "Of course it is." "Look, I mean, this is going to be like Jamie at Home, right?" "Except I'm not going to be bouncing around spouting Cockney drivel out of my fat, lisping ox face." "Is he in hospital, maybe?" "Heart bypass?" "I've always imagined Malcolm's arteries probably look like half-squeezed tubes of Anusol." " That's a lovely image." " Oh, sorry, Glenn." "Nothing personal." "Nicola Murray!" "Queen of the Fourth Sector." "Empress of the high-fibre diet." "Steve..." "Fleming." "A thought." "Andy Murray." "Would you like me to... (HUMS) ...finesse him personally?" "That won't be necessary because I've just spoken to him." "I've just got off the phone and he is well and truly finessed." "And he's lovely." "He's very charming." "Not at all arrogant like Tim Henman." "Not Tim Henman, the other one." "What other one?" "There wasn't another one." "(BOTH LAUGHING)" "Anyway." "Listen." "That was five years ago, right?" "These things happen." "Things were said which shouldn't have been said." "But they were also said because they were fucking true." " And now you're going to say them again." " For instance, five years ago I said that your moustache made you look like a Greek rapist, and it did." "No." "No, I couldn't possibly say who." "Glenn Cullen." "Glenn with one N. But it was late, he was tired." "His eyes get very weak muscles." "All his muscles are weak." "He's like an astronaut." "It's no big deal." "It's only DoSAC." "Hello!" "This is DoSAC." "We're in DoSAC." "I'm the fucking head of DoSAC." "Fuck DoSAC." "Everyone knows DoSAC is an open sewer." "Hello!" "I'm still here." "I am talking about the bigger picture here." "You shouldn't have come back." "This is gonna be the worst fucking comeback since fucking Michael Jackson." "Sorry." "Good news." "Andy Murray's dead, as a concern." "What about Lynda Bellingham?" "Yes, that'll be convincing." ""Eat less salt," says the dancing Oxo lady." "Good idea." "No one from the stage show of Calendar Girls." "You have to pass the ball sometimes, matey." "Yeah." "Well, listen." "I'm not fucking passing the ball to you" " because I know what will happen then." " Uh-huh?" "You'll fucking kick it into the face of a war widow." "Thank you, Sam." "And knock her over and she'll fall in a lake and then she'll be fucking drowned." "I had no idea that it was him who had drafted Fleming's resignation letter in 2003." "I forgot your political memory only goes back two issues of The Economist." "That's right, Glenn." "You'll have to hold my hand through this complicated world." "Some of us weren't up the Acropolis the day that you and Roy Jenkins invented democracy." "Oh, my God." "Did you know that he'd been some kind of womaniser?" "You wanna check The Sun." "They've got a woman who claims he womanised her three times in a day at the gazebo at Chequers." "Front, back and in the gallery, as I understand it." "I suppose you know Andy's people are furious." "Are they after us, Andy's people?" "Do Andy's people want to kill us?" "Are they gonna come after us with knives?" " Is this the Andy's people's revolt?" " (KNOCKING ON DOOR)" "Who's that?" "It's not one of Andy's people, is it?" "Oh, no, it's fucking one of Pan's People." "It's the wee baldy one that used to give my granddad the horn." "Is this good?" "All this panic?" "I haven't seen Snakes on a Plane, but I imagine this is pretty much how people would react on finding their plane was brimming with snakes." "Except Malcolm is the snakes, isn't he?" "I mean, this is more Snakes Not on a Plane." "I just can't quite believe this." "This is the single most shocking thing I've seen in politics since the SDP." "I thought he'd at least go out with a bang or a killing spree." "I always imagined he'd just shout so hard his lungs would come up and choke him to death." " Holy shit." " The end of an era." "Yeah, a really shit era, though, isn't it?" "Like communism or Britpop." "Um, everybody wants a quote from you about Malcolm on his passing." "No, no, no." "No." "Because I don't believe he's dead." "It would take more than that." "It would take a stake made of garlic and probably some sort of cluster bomb." "You're being completely paranoid." "Honestly, he's gone." "I keep imagining every time I open my filing cabinet that he's going to be crouched in there eating a lamb shank, glowering at me." "This could be the highlight of my career, and I've taken a dump in the White House." "See, that's great banter." "That's exactly what we're looking for." "Is it?" " Who's she?" " Oh, that's Maria." "She's from Factual." "Okay, now, who will I be talking to, apart from fucking Stephen Fry?" "We're not going to get Stephen Fry." " But on the thing it said Stephen Fry." " Oh..." "Oh no, I just put him down on every programme idea I submit because the overlords upstairs love him." "Now, if you'll excuse me," "I have a rather pressing appointment with some sashimi." "Steve." "Look, I've made an unexpected comeback." "Like Noel Edmonds or secondary cancer." "Don't get any ideas, Malcolm." "I can cut you loose any time I like." "I can toss you aside like an unwanted panettone, which, I warn you, is most panettones." " Glenn, tea?" " Yes, please." " Great." " MALCOLM:" "Okay." " I'll have the same." " What's that?" "Uh, just..." "What?" "Have you got a stiff neck from watching your girlfriend being fucked by other guys?" "Sorry, your ex-girlfriend." "Sorry, that's..." "That's bad Malc." "I don't mean to hurt your feelings." "No, no, no." "Feelings were not hurt at all." "That very same ex-girlfriend who I haven't been watching with other guys, she tells me that come the election, the opposition are now definitely going to get the Fucker." " That's good." " Is it?" "Good." "That's fine." "He's good." " Yeah." "Yeah, he's good." " He's good, Cal." "I like Cal." "(MOBILE RINGING)" "Hello, Childline." "I'm pretty furious, Malcolm." "In fact, I'm hugely, hugely angry." "What?" "Have Boots stopped selling the Turtle Wax shampoo you like so much?" " Balls." " What the hell is going on?" "Have you gone completely tonto?" "What is this?" "We've got fucking Willie Thorne and fucking Lady Julius Yul Brynner here." "This week they'll be dancing the fuck-trot on I Strictly Couldn't Give A Fucking Shit." "You are loopy-loo, Malcolm." "Loopy!" "Loo!" "Okay, listen up, everybody." "All this work-life balancing act, all this eco twee-co," ""I heart my bicycle," ""let's have everything in an italic pink font" shit is out the window." "It's the economy, Stewpot!" "Sorry to be brutal, but I have tried it the other way and, uh, I just like a rough fuck." " Can I have a coffee, please?" " No." "No coffee for Cal, right?" "The last thing you need is caffeine." "You're delusional as it is." "Whoa, you just nicked one to slip, Stewart." "You're out." "Okay." "QED, which is Latin for what the fuck I'm talking about." "Cricketing metaphors." "That's why Somerset fucking Maugham here is unknown and unelectable by any member of the electorate who's still sexually active." "Remember, this government is like going out with Madonna." "At first you think, "Result."" "Now we wake up every morning to see an increasingly crazed, craggy-faced egomaniac who jumps on every fucking passing bandwagon." "This is Oliver Reeder." "Due to the forthcoming nail-biting election," "I'm no longer available on this number." "...and I'm not here at the moment." "So please call me on my mobile, which is 079... 41... 5..." "If you have any political enquiries at any time, 24 hours a day," "Oliver Reeder and Glenn Cullen..." "Twenty-four hours a day?" "Fuck off." "No, we're political advisors, we're not fucking prostitutes." "Well, you've spoilt it now."