All language subtitles for The.Thick.Of.It.S03e08.1080p.Web.H264-Poppycock_track3_[eng]

We both know we
don't like each other.
Everyone knows that.

We are the Gallagher brothers
of politics.

You're all over the newspapers
like a pissing puppy, Malcolm.

That's what we masters
of the dark arts call a blip.

We need to start booting up
this crime stats enquiry.

Julius, what is the deal?

JULIUS: At the moment,
Malcolm is getting the sack.

You fucking speak!
You've always
fucking got something to say.

-I'm only a cabinet minister!
-Fuck off, then.

Malcolm Tucker has resigned.

(ALL CHEERING)

Happy days!

You will fucking see me again!

MAN 1: Malcolm?
MAN 2: Malcolm?

MAN 3: Malcolm?

I can't comment.
Let me in. Now.

-What are you going to do now?
-Watch the hedge.
Watch the hedge.

I'm just trying to
get home, please.

Show's over, okay?
Fucking bacteria.

(REPORTERS CALLING OUT)

You know, I just can't quite
believe this.

I mean, 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.

-(EMMA CHUCKLES)
-MANNION: End of an era.

Yeah,
a really shit era though,
isn't it?

(PHIL WHOOPING)

-Yeah, all right, calm down.
-Balrog's dead!

I mean, that's it.
I mean, they're done.

I mean, no one can replace
him. It's like when
Queen lost Freddie.

You know.
Certainly not Paul Rodgers.

All right, everyone. That's
the two seconds of
respect due to him,

now get back to your desks
and do something, okay?

Not the sofa.
Who are you, Lorraine Kelly?

Get out here and do something.
If you've
nothing to do, leave,

because you're clearly
surplus to requirements.

Um, lads and lasses.

(LAUGHING)

Please, just a quick word.
Thank you.

Really, it's just a hand-hold

to set the tone
for a slightly
re-jigged regime.

I've done all
the important departments
and now I've got to you.

(LAUGHS)

Seriously, I've done
that joke everywhere but...

Even with
the genuinely big departments.
So I'm not...

(IMITATES GUN FIRING)

...aiming at you in any sort
of a snide way.

I'm just
checking that we're all
at the very top of our games.

-Glenn, mate?
-Sorry.

-Are you on top of your game?
-On top?

I am above my game.

I'm in a geo stationary orbit,
way above it

looking down and going,
"Hello, game, it's Glenn."

(LAUGHS) Right.

You know,
there's an election looming.
This is quite a serious time.

We need to be aware of that.

But I love humour
and that was good humour.

Do you want to
swim the Channel
for Scope?

No!

Do you want to do Dragons' Den
for Children in Need?

I'd rather fuck a real dragon.

Would you consider promoting
a politically
themed restaurant?

How does that even work?
Oh, fuck no. I don't care.

Would you like to write
a children's book

called The Angry Spider?

So, everything, good.

Yeah, you know,
a bit of instability
with Malcolm gone,

a sort of sense of post, you
know, psychotic twats
disorder, but...

No, no, listen, I understand.
But you know,

right now you're all emerging
from the cellar,

pleased that
the beatings have stopped,

scared of what
the future might hold,

but long-term, I think
we're all going to be okay.

Pep talk over.

Return to your desks
and prepare for government.

We're in government.

Well, then, prepare
to stay in government.

-Oh, right. How do we do that?
-We pack an overnight bag.

Would you please
fucking well...

(LAUGHS)

Do you know, I'm sorry.
I lost my temper.

Where is it?
Where is it? Where is it?

Oh,
I know, I've found it again.
It's all right.

Always in the last
place you look, eh?

So, can I...?

-Yeah.
-Great.

Uh, actually, can I have
a word with you,
Nicky, please?

Yeah. Nicola.

I just wanted to check.

Obviously, Dan Miller's cabal

is going house to house
through the cabinet

looking for numbskulls
stupid enough to resign

to trigger his
elevation to the throne.

-Obviously.
-What I need to know is

are you solid?

Yeah, I am completely...
I am solid as the proverbial.

As a rock, as a rock-hard...

As a sailor's
wang on shore leave.

Superb.

You really are
the potty mouth,
aren't you?

(LAUGHS) Well, a lot to do.

Olly, Glenn, in here now.
Quick, quick, quick.

Oh, Glenn, don't faff about
with your glasses.

I know you take them off

every time you come in here.
It's not impressive.

What do we know
about the anti-Tom cabal?

Why have I not been
contacted by them?

-Well, um, ah...
-Because it would be you...

You're seen very much
as an individual around the...

That's bollocks, isn't it?

It's 'cause I'm
the girl at the party
nobody wants to dance with.

I'm the freak in the corner
with a pint of
cider and blackcurrant

-and the funny eye.
-No, no. I mean, it's...

You know, it's a big Rolodex
full of numbers. I'm sure...

Thank you. You may go.

(STAMMERS) We still would like
to dance with you.

Oh, fuck off.
Go and put your
glasses back on.

-Malcolm.
-Sarah Jennings.

Welcome to the BBC.
Did you have any
trouble getting here?

No. I had trouble getting in.
They thought I
was a terrorist.

Oh!

(LAUGHS) If you'd like
to take a seat down there.

So, we're really very excited.

Yeah, this could be
the highlight of my career.

And I've taken a dump
in the White House.

(CHUCKLES)

See, that's great banter.
That's exactly what
we're looking for.

Is it?

So, this pitch.
It's for the sort of person

who tried coke once,
but didn't like it.

It's a BBC Three show, yeah?
It's...

It's a bullshit description,
but, you know,
it paints a picture.

-Who didn't like coke?
-That sort of thing.

(CHUCKLES) Oh!

Yeah,
so the idea is you're going
to be talking to other people

who, like you, have been
through the shit.

For this, I was thinking

Brian Keenan.
Uh, Kerry Katona.

Sorry, do you mind?
I'm sorry,
I've got to take this.

-Just give me a second.
-Yeah, no. No, no, no worries.

We'll continue this, yeah?

Hello?

SARAH: Uh...
Oh, he seems cool.

Oh, hello.
Where did you go
for lunch, Belgium?

I was meeting a friend.

GLENN: Oh!
OLLY: Right.

Meanwhile,
back in Gotham City,

the Expressis running the
idea that your
victim support scheme

is actually
a rapists' charter.

And, um, Steve Fleming
wants you to do
some local media.

There's this guy
who's very angry.

His dead mum
keeps getting
sent parking tickets.

-So can we cover that, please?
-So dead mum, rapists.

Yeah. All good.

Olly, could you assemble
a policy profile for me

for the Centre
for Economic Reform
out of Yale?

Yes, I can. Uh, why?

Just curiosity.
It's a very
interesting think tank.

Haven't been offered a job
or anything, have you?

You might comment,
I couldn't possibly say yes.

I mean,
if you've been offered a job
we'd better start,

you know, looking around
for something to do ourselves.

No, you can't
start planning an exit
from this department.

That would undermine me.

Nicola, there's someone
called Hannah on line three.

-Yes.
-She's from
the Centre for Economic...

Thank you.
Please scram. Sod off.

-Get out.
Don't go looking for jobs.
-So what do you reckon?

Well, sod that.
We'd better put
some feelers out.

But, you know,
we'll do it discreetly.

Yeah, like you do on the Tube.

Well,
I suppose it is the end now,
isn't it, for you two?

The full stop after all those
commas. A few little
semi-colons on the way.

Well,
I wouldn't be quite so smug,
Terri,

because I heard
from very good sources

that the opposition
will be getting the Fucker in.

Yeah,
that's what I heard, too.

They're definitely
getting the Fucker in.

-I haven't heard that.
That's...
-The Fucker, he coming.

-No, that...
-He coming to your town.

You do know why they
call him the Fucker,

don't you, Terri?

-Yes.
-No, sorry, not you.

Is it because he's
a bit of a fucker?

So it's not going
to be easy for Peter Mannion.

He's not going to be reading
The Wind in the Willows,

sipping chamomile tea.

He's going to have
a crash helmet on, bent over,

doing his best to be heard
over a force 10
fucking from the Fucker.

Piers, hello.

ANDREW NEIL ON TV:
Even three months
won't be long enough.

(MOBILE PHONE RINGING)

Hello, Philip Schofield.
I fuck lobsters for money.

Oh?

-Take the rice first.
-MALCOLM: Thank you.

I want you to be very clear,
Malc, about why it is
that I brought you in.

That's fine. That's fine.

Do you know what hat it is
that I'm wearing?

Is it your baldy
swimming cap wig?

No, it is my government
troubleshooter stetson,

which is a long way from my
homburg of sober enquiry.

Do you know that I'm thinking
about doing
a television programme?

Well, I had heard something
on the grapevine.

Yeah, it's good. You know that
programme Civilisation
with Kenneth Clarke?

-Oh, yes.
-It's going to be like that

except with fucking
more quim, you know?

It's me, Simon Schama and
Alan Yentob in a cage,

fucking lump hammer each,
whacking the shit
out of each other.

The last man standing wins
a fucking Ford Focus.

The thing is, Malcolm,

your departure has basically
precipitated a call-to-arms,
in effect.

We have it on
reasonably good authority

that there are between three
to four cabinet ministers
who are disgruntled

and are planning
a mass resignation.

And that means, very simply,
a Dan Miller coronation.

And as my nephew would say,

"This shit just got real."

-Your nephew?
-Yeah, he's at Charterhouse.

Only a day boy, not a boarder.

Anyway, the fact is
it has to be stopped.

Um... There have been
a number of ideas
being tossed around.

And one of them is
would you be
prepared to come back?

Are you out of your tiny,
shiny fucking mind?

Look, we can do this simply.

Step one. Are you interested?
Of course you are.

Step two. Will you come back?

Yes?

Superb. Step three,
and this is
the important step,

will you use your
considerable influence
to destroy the cabal?

Can I drop it down?

Fan-dabi-dozi!
Step four. It's party time.

Let's tool up with
basmati rice and...

Wahey!

You're asking me
to come back here and mop up

the fucking splatter
from my own assassination?

You know where
the bodies are buried.

And we'll just say
you're coming back to advise.

It's election strategy.

It's not a day-to-day
government business role.

I can't come back in here
unless I know I'm in the clear
in your report.

I am not in
a position to discuss that.
Not with my current hat on.

However,
would I be sat here now

if the man in the other hat,
which is also me,

wasn't sure that everyone
involved in this enquiry

didn't come out
relatively well?

And what about
Steve Fleming, yeah?

You schizo hat fuck.

Let me put it this way.

You see this onion bhaji?

Let us pretend for a minute
that that onion bhaji

is the problems
that would be caused

by a report
that criticised you
or Steve Fleming.

Hmm?

Watch.

You see what I'm doing?
I'm eating the onion bhaji.

Why?

Because I am the man
that makes the bhaji go away.

There's a rumour that
you're getting the Fucker in.

Are you lot
getting the Fucker in?

Well, look, if you are
just say the word "Fucker".

-Uh... I'll call you back.
-Hey.

Tintin's sexy sister.

-You're back. Are you back?
-I'm back like
ballroom dancing.

And I need your help,
my little Fuckbob Shitpants.

Right. Um, well, okay.

I need you to hook
me up to a printer.
I need a printer.

This is some weight.

I won't do any blow-job jokes
if you don't, mate.

Uh, yeah, copy that, mate.

Listen, just because somebody
has to kill
people for a living,

it doesn't make them a killer.
Do you know what I mean?

Not hugely, Malcolm, no.

Anyway,
what's the story, fuckanory?

-What's been happening?
Come on.
-Nothing much, really.

Um, just,
only a bit of turbulence.

There's this, um, this job
Nicola's thinking of taking.

-Yale, apparently.
-The key people?

(LAUGHS) No, the university.

There's a think tank there
that's approached her.

I don't think that would
be a good idea. Do you think
that would be a good idea?

Well,
she seems pretty set on it.
Actually, she...

Do you think that
would be a good idea?

I'll have a word with her.

-Yeah, have a word with her.
-Yeah.

-Fine.
-So you're not going to ask me

how I'm getting on?

Sorry, that was very rude.

How are you
getting on, Malcolm?
How are you?

-You know,
good days and bad days.
-Right.

This Steve Fleming thing's...

I don't, you know...

The guy's...
I fucking despise the guy,
you know.

I despise him as much
as fucking James May
presumably despises himself.

I'm glad he's getting the
fucking death sentence in
Nicholson's report.

Ah!
Death sentence for Fleming.

You know, that's not something
that should be out there.

No. No, no, no, no.

-I'll catch you later, thanks.
-Yes.

-Thanks for doing that.
-Not a problem, Malcolm.

-My very great...
-Brilliant.

Malcolm's back.
Malcolm's back,
he's through there.

-What?
-GLENN: I'll call you back.

-Hi.
-Hello. You all right?

You've got that
"cock in the cookie jar" look.

-He's back.
-Who? Barrymore?

-No.
-Clement Attlee?

-Oh, fuck.
-Yes.

-Malcolm.
-Yes.

Oh, no.
God, he's going to kill me.

I was there when
he was being sacked
and he asked me for help

and I held out and
now he's going to
want revenge, isn't he?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

It's gonna be like Kill Bill
or Get Carter.

Only it's going to be
get and kill Nicola

and then get Carter and Bill
to fucking kill her, too.

How did you hear about it?

Well,
I just connected his computer
for him in the old liaison...

-Fuck! He's in the building?
-Yeah.

-Shit. Where is he?
-Well, he's in
the old liaison office.

But look,
he's in an odd way, Nicola.

It's like he's been to the vet
and had his knackers done.

Right. When I come back from
cabinet I'm going to hide
in my office, okay?

For the rest of the day.

Oh, God. I'm going to be glad
to be out of this place.

Yeah.
Oh, yeah. Are you? Oh, right.
Are you...

America...
What are you thinking,
Yale or nayl?

I don't know. Off the record,
what do you think?

I really, really wonder
whether it's
the right thing for you.

I mean, it's a huge,
huge country, isn't it?

I was going to live there,
I wasn't going to eat it.

I know. But you know,
imagine sitting
there on your fanny,

watching King of Queens
eating a Twinkie.

Malcolm's told you
to warn me off it,
hasn't he?

Well, he's...
No... Well, yeah.

He's been here two minutes
and already he's...

He's pulling the strings
of his pathetic little
voodoo marionette.

-No, well.
-Right. Fuck it.

I'm not going to hide.
Bring it on.

Malcolm.

Hey, Nicola.
How are you doing?

-You're back.
-Yeah, I'm just, you know,

tying up a few loose ends.

With which you're going
to plait some kind of
garrotte and strangle me?

Forgive and forget.
That's my motto.

I thought your motto was
"Who fucks wins" or

"Honi soit qui Malc y fuck".

I've got a lot of mottos.
Don't take that job, Nicola.

God, Malcolm.

The anti-Tom
brigade are just waiting
for the first piece to fall.

If you resign,
it's political fucking Jenga.

You will cause a landslide
that will bury
this government.

And you'll keep
the party in opposition
until Daniel Radcliffe

is advertising walk-in baths
in the fucking
People's Friend.

I've got to go to Number 10.

-I'll chum you over, chum.
-Oh, great.

The rain in Spain
stays mainly on the plain.

Well, actually, that is
a popular misconception

because what happens is the
rain falls just before
the mountain ridge,

but they wouldn't want you
to know that because it would
spoil the rhyme.

Julius. What's up, Boo Boo?

Not much. I'm just
feeding some victuals
to these poor old ducks.

That red-crested pochard there
is positively
hoggish with this Hovis.

I heard certain rumblings

that I don't come
out terribly well
in this report of yours.

Off the record,
matey, am I fucked?

Off the record,
and this is
strictly between you, me

and that ornamental gatepost
over there...

Of course.

The report is
strictly confidential
until publication.

(LAUGHING) Do you see
what I've done there?

The bald man has done a funny.

It's not funny.
No, it's not
funny at all, Julius.

I think I'm on sparkling form.

For fuck's sake!
You fucking...

-Stephen.
-Pontius Pilate,

with the emphasis on ponce.

GLENN:
Care to do another draft,
Sir Whitewash?

-What has The Mirrorgot?
-"Give us the bald facts?"

Oh, it's very rude,
that is, isn't it?

I was always
taught never to make
personal remarks about people.

He's impressive, Malcolm,
in an evil way.

Like those women at Crufts
who make dogs dance
on their hind legs.

And how are we all this
morning, bright and breezy
or shite and wheezy?

TERRI: Morning, Malcolm.
GLENN: Morning.

Oh, that's a nice, snuggly
fleece.

Going to
the garden centre, Malcolm?

Oh, this is lovely and warm.
40 tog.

(CHUCKLES)

Tell you what,
I'm going to
make a cup of tea.

-Terri?
-No, Malcolm. No, honestly.

OLLY: You don't have to.
I can make the tea.

-Hey, Nicola!
You want a cup of tea?
-TERRI: Demeaning.

-Okay.
-Well, what do you want?

Lemon Zinger, please.

-A what?
-Lemon Zinger.

Whatever the lady wants.
Is there a kitty
for this stuff?

No. I mean,
honestly, Malcolm, no.

Is a tenner enough?
Take the money,
woman, come on.

-Thank you very much.
-GLENN: Hey, Malcolm?

-Yes?
-Bad luck on Steve, eh?

Being long-lensed
in the park like that
with Nicholson, eh, Malc?

Nice double-whammy,
that, isn't it?

Fleming looks like he's trying
to influence the report

and do some
bald-on-bald cottaging
at the same time.

I mean, all that
dark arts and spinning,
that's yester-Malcolm.

That's not... You know,
that's not me any more.

I like the new me.
I mean,
I feel 20 years younger.

TERRI: And you look it.
You look 20 years
younger as well.

-Do I?
-Mmm.

You're looking great yourself,
you know, at the moment.

That colour really suits you.
It's very, very attractive.

Christ,
is he dying or something?

OLLY: I don't know.
TERRI:
(WHISPERING) Is he flirting?

-You are a naughty bastard.
-Julius.

Best thing I've read all year.
It's the only thing, mind you.

You've done some
pretty awful
things to me in my time,

but this takes
the bloody biscuit.

And you've
pissed on that biscuit
and I've got to eat it.

Well, here's the news,
Malcolm. I will not eat
the pissy biscuit.

-Sam, no pissy biscuits!
-Oh, please.

What are you going
on about, Julius?

You made it look
as if Steve Fleming
leant on me

that I would
wrongly exonerate him.

And as a result,
I had to come down upon him

like a ton of bricks,

totally unfairly, just
to protect my unimpeachable
reputation for fairness.

Yeah, well.
It's a great report.

I mean,
what I really like about it
is it's fucking short.

How long did it take you
to rewrite
the Steve Fleming stuff?

I pulled an all-nighter.

Black coffee,
Vivaldi on the iPod Touch.

It was certainly worth it.
I mean, he comes over as
a 28-carat shite.

Oh, Steve, mate.
Have you seen the papers?

Looks like you're
becoming the story.

-Steven,
can I begin by saying...
-Oh, no. I understand, Julius.

It's the game we play.
You did what you had to do.

-Yes,
but all the same, Steven...
-Steve!

(CLEARS THROAT) I'm sorry.
I'll not forget this.

You off to clear
your desk, Steve?

Don't forget your lucky gonk
and your "World's
Shittest Dad" mug.

We were on
the same side, Malcolm,
and you fucked me over.

Not me, Steve-o. Not me.
The independent report.

So, you know, I'm sorry,
but you're
going to have to go.

Oh,
I agree with you, I'm going.

I'm going to
resign from the cabinet.

And then I'm going to go
and join Dan Miller's team.

I think we need a new leader.

-Steve!
-Oh, no, no, no.

Steve. Don't you ever
take up fucking poker,

'cause you're a crap liar.

I am going to join
Dan Miller's team and then
we are going to take you down.

We are going to take you down
to funky town!

Funky town centre,
here you come.

Choo fucking choo.

Is this what you're
threatening me with?
Fucking disco lights?

And a fucking choo choo train?
You're a joke, Steve.

(LAUGHS) There's
nothing you can do.

-Steve.
-Yeah?

There's one thing I can do.

-What are you going to do?
-Yeah,
wouldn't you like to know?

Who are you going to meet?
Who's your meeting with?

Bye-bye.

I'm not fucking worried, mate!

Fuck him.
Fuck him! Fuck him! Fuck him!

Okay, listen up everybody.
That was Gavin
over at Number 10.

He reckons that Steve Fleming
has just joined the cabal.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

-GLENN: Yeah, mate.
-That's a complete disaster.

There'll be nothing
else on television
for weeks.

Where's Malcolm?
Where's the dark
knight in all this?

Malcolm will have grabbed
his false passport by now.

He'll be on a plane to Brazil

and he's about to spend
the rest of his days

being the world's
scariest dentist.

Derek! Get the fuck down
to ITN right now

and start briefing the shit
out of them, right?

Where's Sarah?
I want Sarah to do the cars.

I want her to pimp
the ministerial rides.

Come on.
Fire up the mid-range saloons.

Nicola Murray, just the girl.

-What
the hell's going on here?
-In 20 minutes' time,

the Prime
Minister of Great Britain
and Northern Ireland

is going to announce
that he is
calling the election.

Shitting Henry.

Thank you very much.

Okay. How... What I don't...
Right.
How are you announcing...

The Cabinet haven't...
You know,
we haven't actually had...

So how... What I... Who...

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

-Who actually is...
-Exactly.
Exactly. Exactly, Nicola.

See that fucking gibbering?
That's what everyone
is doing right now.

The fucking cabal. The fucking
opposition. Fucking us.

-We have grabbed
the initiative.
-Yeah, for maybe five minutes.

Well,
life is just a succession
of five minuteses.

Oh, great. Okay,
so you're Buddha now, are you?

Yeah, if Buddha had been
on the cover of GQmagazine.

Yeah, could you get
me the Yale Centre
for Economic Renewal, please?

-Why are you ringing them?
-Stay. Stay.

No, look. Please don't ring...
Don't fucking ring her!

Hello? No, just relax.

You've got plenty of time.
It's not ringing.

Loads of...
Oh, actually it is ringing.

It's time to tell
the Yanks to fuck off.
Come on.

You're going to go leafletting
in Neasden, yeah?

You have no right to do this.
I will not be bounced by you.

Listen, if you quit now, you
might well cost us this
election, right?

-Bollocks.
-But see, if we win,

there will be rewards.

Now, you've seen
the Foreign Office,
right?

It's fucking huge, isn't it?

-Don't make me do this.
-(WHISPERING) Stay.

-Okay, I'll stay.
-Hannah, yeah, sorry.

I would just like to put you
on to our mutual acquaintance,
Nicola Murray.

She's got something
that she wants to tell you.

Hannah. Um...

-There's nobody there.
-Yeah, I spoke to her already.

You fucker!

I'm going to put
a word in for you
about the Foreign Office job.

They're always
looking for cleaners
there. It's fucking huge.

You fucker, Malcolm!

All right, now. Listen up,
my children of a lesser God.

You will find a file marked
Snap Election
Drill on the J drive.

And if you don't
know how to access
the J drive

hand your pass
in at reception,

go and buy some silver body
paint and pretend to be
a robot on the South Bank.

Fly, my pretties, fly.

(MOBILE PHONE BEEPING)

Stewart! Stewart,
the Fucker's downstairs.

No, no, no. He's not
downstairs. But if he were,
I'd know about it

and if I knew about it,
I would have vetoed it. Okay?

He is,
and he is complete poison.

Ah, the Fucker!

And you thought he was just
a myth created to
frighten naughty MPs

into eating all their truffles
and swan.

Watch my lips.
Cal Richards is not here.

-Cal!
-Hello.

-Hi.
-Hi, Stewart.

Good to see you.
I didn't know about this.

-JB didn't say anything...
-Hello, everyone.

I just wanted it
to be a surprise.

Yeah. Why are you...
Why are you here?

Well, mate,
I just thought I'd check in

with
the intellectual powerhouse
of the party. That's all.

-Emma.
-That's why I'm here.

Right. If you want to step
in the office, yeah?

I'll dismiss the children
and we can talk.

No.
'Cause I'm kidding, aren't I?

No, because I've
come here to tell you
that you're fucking sacked.

Halle-bloody-lujah!

Shall I escort Stewart
from the building then, Cal?

EMMA: Philip, don't be such
a fucking turncoat.

Yes, Philip. Excellent idea.

And while you're there,
could you do me
another favour, please?

Could you find a hostel,
go there

and take a fucking overdose
of barbiturates?

(EMMA SNICKERING)

Yeah, right.
Okay, well, I'm not fired.

You can't fire me, Cal,
so shall we just
cut to the chase? Hmm?

"You can't fire me, Cal,
'cause you're..."

Gotcha!

I'm kidding.
Of course you're not fired.
Look at your face.

(CAL LAUGHING)

-Funny.
-I'm sensing

a change of management styles
here from touchy-feely
to smashy-testes.

No, okay, joking aside,
I'm just
an impartial observer.

Quite partial, obviously,
so take it away,
Captain Mainwaring.

All right, folks, listen up.

We have three key targets when
we are
smart-bombing our beloved PM

and they are the deficit,
unemployment,
lack of leadership.

Get onto the J drive,
you'll find key...

(SHOUTING) Fuck!
That is brilliant!

That is inspired!

What sauce! Get in!

It's the economy, Stewpot!

Fuck! What I really need
to do is shoot you all in
the back of the head.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

But I can't
because it's illegal.

Okay,
I'd like a small cappuccino,
two extra shots, please.

I think we've got
a long night ahead of us.

-Come on.
-I'm coming.

Better
the devil you know, huh?

Five years...

I can't work
the coffee machine.

Fantastic news, isn't it?
Yeah.

I'm going to be much freer.
Two free weeks...

So, did I miss anything?

Well, Glenn won a pound
on a scratch card.

That's my retirement sorted.

So, we get out
there and hust, do we?

-Hmm?
-Hust. We go to the hustings.

-Don't think it's a verb,
is it, Glenn?
-Well, all right...

-Do me a huge favour.
-Mmm-hmm?

Could you just not
talk for a second?

Okay.

I think we're just playing it
in the wrong key.

It's when we go,

* Red and yellow and blue *

What is she talking about?

Oh. She's putting on her
annual production of Joseph
in Hemel Hempstead.

She doesn't license it ever
because she considers Joseph

to be public domain.

But I need to just pitch
a little higher. More like...

- * Red and yellow
and blue and green *
-She's directing it.

-Oh.
-And starring.

As Jacob.

(WHISPERING) With a beard?

Well,
one assumes with a beard.

Maybe she'll just let herself
go for a couple of weeks,
see what happens.

MALCOLM: I know
what people say to you, right?

They say, "We hate you.

"I hate you.
I hate you. I hate you."

Everybody hates you.
So fucking what?

Some people,
they just
fucking love to hate.

Some people,
they'd fucking walk around
the fucking Garden of Eden

fucking moaning about the lack
of fucking mobile reception.

These are the kind of fucks
who watched Mandela,

fucking Nelson Mandela,

walk to freedom

and said, "Is Diagnosis Murder
not on the other side?"

So we fucking
forget about them.

This government
has run this country
into the ground.

This used to be a green
and pleasant land,

now it's the colour
of the fucking
BBC weather map.

It looks like anaemic dogshit.

JB,

Cal Richards and their hordes
of fucking robots,

they're coming over the hill
towards us and all you have
got to do is this.

Bend down, pick up
any fucking weapon you can

and twat
the fuckery out of them.

This government is maimed,
but it can't be shamed,

it will be fucked.

Let's get out there
and let's fucking kill them.

Let's set fire to tiers!
Let's go!

Come on! Let's go, yes!

Okay, let's get going.

PHIL: What do we do?

What do I call
for an outside line?

EMMA:
That was great, wasn't it?
PHIL: What do we do?

Is it nine? 'Cause that's what
it is everywhere else.

OLLY: Car's here.
Car's here, Nicola!

GLENN: We're off.
Bye-bye, Terri, then.
See you soon.

-Just want to say goodbye.
-I'm sorry. Very sticky but...

-Thank you. Honestly, it's...
-Oh, have I scratched you?

I just want to say, honestly.

I mean it.

NICOLA: Thank you and yeah.
Thanks for the stuff.

TERRI: Glenn, I don't know
about you with...

Don't worry about me, Terri.
I've got plenty of options.

I'm just going to take stock.

From Morrisons?

PHIL: Okay, yeah and he can
pick some records as well.

Girls Aloud,
will that make him
too seedy? Okay, Girls Aloud.

CAL: Stop saying Abingdon
to me. I want a fucking
chocolate biscuit.

PHIL:
I've booked him on another
breakfast show, BBC Warwick,

Brian and Robo,
apparently they're very funny.

Yeah, for
the first time in a decade,

I can feel the old dog
twitching to life.

"So sorry me.
This election
give me an erection."

The old dog I was
referring to was me.

(HOOVER WHIRRING)

See you, Nicola!

Or not.