The Thick of It (2005–2012): Season 4, Episode 7 - Episode #4.7 - full transcript
The witnesses from the Goolding Inquiry nervously await the result. A further crisis looms over the number of police staff being cut by the Home office, leading to a backlog of paper work and queues outside police stations. Whilst Mannion and his advisers panic, Ollie sends Dan on a fact finding mission to Lewisham police station though it is not very productive. After delivering a rant to Ollie about his inadequacy as a replacement, Tucker tries to create a smoke screen by getting himself arrested, though this also falls flat. Glenn also quits, tearing strips off his colleagues and resolving to turn himself in for perjury - though he changes his mind on the police station steps. Nicola is persuaded to give a face-saving interview with the Daily Mirror journalist who has been shadowing her, dressed as a giant pork chop, and Pearson gets the sack and everybody else is left wondering whether they will still be left in the thick of it.
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!
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.
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.
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.
Crikey!
I think, given that I'm hoping to get
back into cabinet at some point,
I might... keep my jugs
in the cupboard.
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?
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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?!
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.
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!
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!
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.
What a shit day!
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!
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.
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.
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.
Crikey!
I think, given that I'm hoping to get
back into cabinet at some point,
I might... keep my jugs
in the cupboard.
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?
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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?!
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.
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!
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!
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.
What a shit day!