Original subtitles

So have you seen this?

"Nicola Murray is 'unelectable'."

-Today's the day? -It's on.

It's on like Fat Pat's thong.

-Tickle's dead. -What?

This is an emergency situation, Nicola.

You have to bash the Tickle button.

You need to call for an inquiry, now.

That's why I'm calling for an inquiry.

-I need to have that email. -I'll do it.

I may have fleetingly supported the policy myself.

So you've essentially launched an investigation into yourself?

I have decided to stand down as leader.

Ding-dong, the useless bitch is dead.

Oh, God, here we go.

REPORTER: Do you feel you've been stabbed in the back, Mrs Murray?

She won't be answering any questions at this time.

REPORTER: Are you be backing Dan Miller for leader?

Thank you all very much.

(REPORTERS CLAMOURING)

NEWSREADER: Nicola Murray, now the former...

There she goes, a tiebreaker in the making.

Who was Nicola Murray? I'll have to hurry you, teams.

Farewell, our shit and useless servant.

Yeah, at least Miller's a step up from Murray.

He doesn't have to write Left and Right on his wellies.

I need your attention for 30 of your earth seconds.

-This is what will happen. -What the fuck is Stewart doing?

You will go to the Z drive.

You find a file entitled

"Miller's Ascension, Whitehall Arab Spring."

Open, ingest, implement.

And after that,

-I expect both of you, you two... -Oh, fuck.

-...to get together... -The man made of space hopper

is coming this way.

This is going to be about the inquiry.

I'm thinking I should resign now.

-What? -No, you can't do that.

You're Aslan, no one shaves your mane.

I'm not a fucking lion, Phil.

There's going to be an inquiry into the death of a man

who died because of a policy I signed off on.

We all know how this is going to end.

I, I, I should take the dignified way out.

No, you've missed the dignified exit.

That was straight away, basically.

Yeah.

The only silver lining in today's cloud of farts

is that another one of Morecambe and Wise's policy launches is ruined.

Are those the carers? They don't look old enough.

EMMA: Free travel passes or something.

It's another one of Adam and Fergus's Pop Up Book of Policies.

Peter Mannion, lovely to meet you. What vital work you do.

Peter, I'd love to introduce you to the carers...

I've just met them.

PETER: What's my plan? I didn't resign

and now this inquiry's going to nail me up like fucking Barabbas.

Actually, he was the one they let go. Shouldn't have, he's a criminal.

Wait.

-We could... We could wrong-foot Murray. -Yeah, how?

You could push for the inquiry to go wider.

Wider? That's mental. We want to shut it down.

Shush! Just hear me out.

We can look into the whole culture of PFI procurement.

PHIL: That is a good idea, really.

Fuck, that hurt to say, but she's right

because Murray's husband's involved in PFI

and he's as dodgy as a Russian... as a Russian.

EMMA: We can backspin it, Peter, it's good.

But, but...is... Is revenge a mature response?

Let me think. Yes, it is. Right.

Let's poke her in the PFIs.

STEWART: If you get any channel problems,

just swing them past the purple Power Ranger over here.

Hello again.

Vital, vital work, so proud of you.

Terri, I've got a job for you.

Oh, Peter, this is all pretty white-knuckle stuff, eh?

Is it getting the old adrenaline pumping?

Assuming it can squeeze past the port and stilton.

Shut the fuck up, you prancing shit.

We need to widen the inquiry into Mr Tickle's death

to include the issue of PFI contracts.

Great. Okay, I'm just working on Fergus's Carers Pass press release...

Oh, good. Could you fuck that to one side for the moment

and concentrate on this? Yeah.

Let's slip into neutral for a moment here, Peter.

We haven't got a green light from the PM yet,

so let's not hit the accelerator.

Here's another way of looking at it. Let's. Goodbye.

So, are we heading home?

No, back to the office.

Oh, really?

There are lots of people there who've worked incredibly hard for me.

They're going to want to see me to say a proper goodbye.

Of course. Yeah, I'm sure that's true.

Oh, Christ, there's that fucking chop!

-You've been chopped, Mrs Murray. -(NICOLA LAUGHS)

How does it feel to be chopped?

You're a little bit late, actually, Mr Chop.

You've had your chips.

(LAUGHS)

That is precisely why I didn't let you go to The One Show.

Olly, for God's sake, pick up. I've had it.

I'm coming in from the cold.

I'm recrossing the floor.

Oh, Glenn. So, these are the carers.

-This is Jack. -Hello, Jack.

-And this is Rohinka. -I'm really sorry for your loss.

Mannion's called for a PFI inquiry.

Oh, that's going to put the cats among the pussies.

We need to show that we were never in favour of PFI

and that we never approved of the sell-off of key worker housing.

-However... -In a way that doesn't make us

look like dicks for not saying so at the time

or shits for saying so now.

You know, we don't have much time, so...

Well, let's just bin the Carers Pass launch. Just bin it.

It's the Spring Conference in two weeks, the Dungaree Jubilee.

That... That kind of stuff is exactly what the conference fucking needs.

And we've been here for three years and we've done fuck all.

Well, we haven't done fuck all...

No, no, seriously, I mean, think about it.

In that time, Apple have launched two iPhones, three iPads

-and their boss is a fucking dead guy. -Yeah.

Let's just push it till the end of the day.

Okay, we'll push it near the end of the day,

but you know the... Robyn.

-Hello, Robyn, how are you? -That, in fact is my name.

Take a seat.

Yeah, I know it's your name because

it was at the top of a redundancy list that I've just looked at.

Right, stop rolling around naked in the headlines.

Blind Man's Crumpet's on the way up.

If you're going to film her on your phones,

try not to make it obvious. And no smiling.

Not even a wee fucking Anne Robinson, right?

The look we're going for should be solemn respect.

You know, like blokes modelling underpants.

Oh, hang on. Mannion's calling for a wider inquiry.

-He's what? -He's trying to drag you in,

shift the focus to the PFI conflict with your husband's company.

No! No, no, no, no, no!

Fuck! What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

Go up there and smile, for starters.

Yes, Dan! Dan, Dan can put the lid on this, can't he?

Of course he can, because he is actually quite good.

MALCOLM: I'm probably going to get quite emotional,

might get quite teary

if I can find an onion or something to pluck my pubes.

-Robert. -Yes, sir.

I want you to get over to Fatty's, right?

Make sure he's not hiding a leadership challenge from me.

Frisk him if necessary, all 300 of his folds. Get to it.

I will do some small-talk, best wishes stuff,

and then I'll just casually bring up the inquiry.

Oh, no! No, no, no, I should cut straight to the inquiry, shouldn't I?

Oh, fuck, I don't know how to play this.

Erm...

(SIGHS)

This is why they got rid of me, isn't it?

-No. No. -Isn't it? This is it. This is it.

-No, there were other reasons. -Fuck.

Come on, let's go.

(DEEP BREATH) Seat of the pants airways.

Are you smiling? I can't see your face.

Make sure you're smiling.

Oh, here she comes. Yes, hello.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Ha, thank you, thanks very much.

I hope you're not clapping because I've gone.

(LAUGHS)

Erm, seriously, I feel, over the past two years,

I've, erm, given it my best shot.

And I'm quite sure that my successor,

whoever he or she may be,

will achieve the victory that... that this country badly needs.

I've got some, some very, er,

strong memories from working here

and I'll, erm, I'll keep those with me forever.

So, thank you, guys.

Thank you. Thanks a lot. Thank you.

Erm... Oh, thank you, thanks so much.

Thanks for everything. (WHISPERS) Dan!

It feels a bit odd for me to add to your speech

but I will be tweeting a tribute later.

Oh, that's nice, thank you.

I was just wondering if I, erm...

if we could just have a private word in my office?

In your... Well, in this office.

Erm... Yeah.

Yes? Great, thank you.

Oh! (CHUCKLES)

Oh! (LAUGHS)

I don't know where to sit.

I, er...

Actually, I'll just grab

one of those.

This inquiry, you know, it's not really necessary now,

so if you want to say that, I'll just back down.

An inquiry wouldn't be a bad thing.

A clean break with the past in the minds of the electorate.

Well, I mean, the electorate, you know, like me. (CHUCKLES)

Quite a lot of them voted me leader, so...

But you only beat me on a technicality.

Yeah. I mean, the thing is, Dan, you know, pragmatically,

I'm now a party grandee...

Malcolm, this is a private conversation.

You are not a grandee, you're a fucking blandee.

No one knew what the fuck you stood for.

Political fucking mist. No substance, no weight.

You've got all the charm of a rotting teddy bear by a graveside.

By the way, women fucking hate you.

I can show you the polling.

They think you come across like a jittery mother at a wedding.

The best thing you ever did in your flat lining non-leadership

was call for an inquiry,

because that will fuck the government and it will fuck you.

So now, please, just fuck off back to your home,

you headless frump,

and prepare for your column in Grazia.

Steady on, Malcolm, that's a bit strong.

Come on, let's go.

Okay, you, well...

You just need to know that you have absolutely

fucking done it now, Malcolm,

because you are about to find out what it feels like

to have me pissing into your tent.

Well, you know what? Your piss will never fucking make it into my tent

because by some unforeseen Nicola-Murray-shaped fiasco,

like every fucking Nicola-Murray-shaped fiasco

I've had to deal with for the last two years,

you'll end up blowing your own fucking stream

into your own fucking face.

There's your golden handshake.

Finished?

You're finished.

We'll see.

Right, well, thanks, Dan. Think about what I said.

Also might want to think about the fact there should be

an apostrophe in "its".

Illiterate fuckers.

What did Dan say about the inquiry?

Fucking Dan is just a...

He's basically just a bent dummy with Malcolm's hand shoved up his arse.

Fucking...

-All right, just calm down. -Bastards.

-Do you want some Rescue Remedy? -No.

Do you want me to send for some noodles?

No, I don't want fucking noodles.

I just...

Oh, God.

I just... I just want a fucking break.

HELEN: Hmm.

I think we both need to think about where we're at.

You know, trajectory and so on.

(LAUGHS)

Bollocks.

I don't want you, I just

didn't want everybody to go on the same day, that's all.

I'm fine. I've got me from here.

-Box. -Box.

Fucking box.

Bingo. We just need to leak it.

You saying, "Key worker housing sell-off

"is possibly the worst idea since the invention of theatre."

Does that give us enough distance from Mannion?

Oh, yeah. This is your Get Out Of Jail Free card

strapped to a fucking jetpack.

We just need to leak it.

Yeah, well, obviously it can't look like it came from us.

Maybe it's time to bring Glenn back into the hub.

He's been out on a limb since punk, hasn't he?

-Thousand-year-old Glenn Fiddich? -Yeah.

Fucking perfect, he'll love it.

Olly, look, I'm feeling very exposed here.

I've got my cock out, it's covered in bread crumbs

and the fucking pigeons are circling.

Look, please, just, just ring me back.

Mr Cullen.

We would like you to leak...

Wow! This.

Don't worry, nothing major, just an email

that puts a bit of distance between Fergus and the Tickle affair.

What, I go from being a turnip to a leak?

Still a fucking vegetable to you, though, eh?

You want to bring Mannion down a peg or 12, don't you, Glenn?

Yes, of course I do.

The up-his-arse Kensington Butcher.

Well, this is the cyanide capsule

we'd like you to break into his afternoon brandy.

This is it, Glenn.

You're off the bench, back on the pitch

to score the golden goal in extra time.

Come on, mate!

Pick it up.

Fuck it, why not? I'll do it.

Good man. Thank you.

-I don't need to shake your hand. -All right.

Touchy but not feely.

Just go, I'll just have a look at it.

You are a brilliant bullshitter.

Yeah, well, two years doing press for npower, it never leaves you.

(MOBILE RINGING)

Hello, Malcolm.

Are you telling me he's still in the fucking bar... Sorry, excuse me.

Ho, hello. Charlie Bucket. Hang on a sec.

Tell him to get out of the fucking bar

or I will come along and personally set fire to the whisky-soaked bastard.

Hey, hey! You're missing all the excitement.

Yeah, no, no, I've been following developments on Sky News,

where they have actually stitched Dan Miller's head to Usain Bolt's body.

Yes, well, get in a cab and get over here right now.

What, me? You want me over there?

Of course I want you here.

You are now my right-hand man.

Is this one of those jokes where I turn up and you go,

"Ha ha ha, my right hand, that's what I use for wiping my arse"?

Well, that's a risk you're just going to have to take.

All right, well, as soon as I'm signed off by a consultant...

Oh, who cares about the opinion of some golf-obsessed prick in a bowtie?

Just scoop your guts up and put them in a fucking wheelbarrow

and come over.

Love you, too.

(GRUNTS)

Robyn, Carers Pass is timed out, yeah?

Bundle the Munchkins out of the building, get them in tomorrow.

Right. So, can we get them something for their travel?

Well, thanks to the Carers Pass, they get free travel.

But it hasn't come in yet.

So, no.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Erm, it looks like we're not going to launch the Carers Pass today

but we were wondering,

could you come back at the same time tomorrow?

-I... I don't know. Erm... -Have you got anything on?

I mean, you know, apart from the full-time round-the-clock medical care

of your families? (LAUGHS UNCOMFORTABLY)

-Aha! It's His Ollyness. -Hello.

Olly, whose initiation rite

into our little cabal of shitty devils here

will be to go over and visit Fatty

-and to present him with this... -Okay.

...as a means of getting him to shelve his ludicrous leadership ambitions.

-Show him this. -Ugh!

Jesus, Malcolm, you could have left it in an envelope.

Okay, come on, everybody, let's get to it.

I want Dan to wake up to the news that any opposition is Brian Jones.

-Meaning? -It's dead in the water.

Right.

Could you?

Glenn.

What are you doing at my computer?

I'm just doing Bradford & Bingley a favour.

I'm bringing down Mannion by leaking an email.

A leak? Coming from my computer? No. No, get off, get off.

Take that...the whatever it is out of the...whatever it is.

Take it. Out.

No one will think it's you. Nobody leaks from their own computer.

Look, you do this for me and I'll make sure

that you get the full severance package,

no questions asked, with full pension.

-And a lump sum? -Yeah. I guess, yeah.

The thing is, Glenn, I've got my eye on a tea shop near Ludlow.

Without a lump sum, no tea shop, no can do.

Okay, right. This can go straight to Geoffrey at The Guardian.

-Okay, yeah. -Right?

-Can we do it together? Please? -What?

Just your hand on mine and my hand on yours, just do it together.

-Like, erm... -Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

Yes, okay.

-Not that I'm saying you're butch. -No, of course not.

BOTH: One, two, three.

Just send the email.

Ah, Team Peter.

Come on, guys, let's take a little imagination stroll

through a virtual inquiry, yeah?

Oh, dear God, not another whiteboard session.

I've, I've got a note from my mother, I have a verruca.

Just want to get an overview, Peter, yeah?

A helicopter shot of where we currently are.

Who's most to blame in the blame garden.

Okay, the onion is PFI. Let's peel back some layers.

Murray resignation, how do we feel about that?

What's Tickle's M records?

Medical, it's his leaked medical records.

Leaked? I, I, I thought they were common knowledge.

Well, they are now because they have been leaked.

Did you know about this?

Well, yeah, Number 10 knew so I knew, yeah.

What about you?

Yeah, I thought Tickle leaked them himself.

Who would voluntarily leak their own medical records?

You'd have to be mad to do that.

He was mad, that's precisely what his records said.

Exactly. You know, he was a male nurse.

That's not just mad, that's mental.

Oh, Phil! Did the last 30 years only happen to other people?

Why didn't I know about this? Leaking medical records is illegal.

Well, I, I, I... Now I look guilty and incompetent.

-Ah! Peter, incompetent. -Look! Don't write that down!

I'm not on your sodding onion.

What is GFU? Good for us. Mmm?

Oh, shit with a capital shit.

-We've got to go. -Great.

Hey, no, no, no, no, no. Sit.

The Guardianhave received an email from Fergus.

Actually, do you know, strike that, a chain of emails.

Oh...perfect, with all of our comments about Mr Tickle underneath.

Oh, God, not, not the one where we all piled in with the Mister Men jokes?

-Yes, yes. That one, Phil. -STEWART: Oh, you kid me.

-I kid you not! -Oh, my giddy fuck.

They've leaked all the bloody emails.

"Mr Tickle sounds like a gropey clown at a kids' party."

I can't see. Can I make it bigger?

Go to "settings".

"Poor ickle Mr Tickle, perhaps he's mentally sickle."

-Must be Fergus. -Is this "settings"?

Oh, I think I've just taken a picture of my feet.

(MOBILE RINGING)

Yep?

What? Where?

Well, well, I don't know. Okay, rugby tackle him or, er, or tase him.

Gaffer tape him to a seat. He can't come up here.

Er, Glenn is in reception.

Hoddle? Miller? Close? Morangie?

Cullen. Glenn Cullen is in reception.

-Glenn? -Yeah.

Why are you even fucking telling me that?

When the Queen's butler finds a cockroach in the pantry,

-he just stamps on it. -Yes.

She doesn't even know.

Okay, okay, I'll go and stamp on the cockroach.

NEWSREADER: ...full inquiry into the whole culture of leaking...

Sam. Sam!

Get me Stewart Pearson on the phone.

Olly! Shouldn't you be in bed?

Shouldn't you not be here?

Whoa, stop, stop, stop. Whoa. You can't go up there.

No, I have to. I can't go back over there.

It's like Alien vs. Predator.

-I want back in! Here! -Yes. Listen,

everybody is tremendously appreciative of what you've done.

-It was a noble sacrifice. -What do you mean, sacrifice?

I thought we had a deal.

"Sacrifice" sounds very one-sided.

Yeah, well, "piss off" sounds one-sided but there we go...

-Hey, Malcolm... -Fucking...

Why is he still here? Can you not perform a simple task?

When there is a shit on your doorstep, you hose it off.

-Right. -You don't try to talk it

into leaving of its own volition.

I got rid of Nicola for you, you owe me.

-I owe you? -Yeah.

Your act of treachery wiped the slate clean.

Rudolf Hess's fucking senile older brother.

Look, I know you think I screwed up,

but I came here on my hands and knees, Malcolm.

You...my friend, you don't exist to me any more.

I can't even fucking hear you.

Do you want me to beg? Is that it?

Because I... Because I will.

Listen, Mary Queen of fucking Shits,

in the old days, we would've just slit you up the middle

like a fucking Cornish pasty,

hanged your steaming entrails all around the Tower of fucking London.

Catch you later, you fucking traitor!

-Sam, what is it? -A call from Stewart Pearson.

Stewart Pearson. I'm the fucking wanker's lodestone today!

Stewart. Yes, the goatee-bearded guru-boy of Company B.

It's a no, Glenn.

Yeah, Malcolm, can this wait? Hmm?

Word is the PM's considering an inquiry into the culture of leaking.

No, no. Do you really think he's going to invite everyone

into our complex network of secret little burrows?

Open up the whole of Watership Down?

Okay, Bright Eyes. I'm massively fucking reassured.

Look, you may as well have an inquiry into gravity.

Now, I have to go, Malcolm,

because I've got like a whole country to govern, yeah?

Could I use your pass to go to the loo again?

The thing is, if my swipe card's being monitored,

then it's either going to look quite like I'm skiving

or I've got a bladder condition.

The primary thing I want to say first and foremost

is that you can't blame me for this, Peter.

Look, if anything, it's the culture of blame

that's to blame for this.

Great to see you again. Such crucial work you do.

Meeting room!

Right, sit down! I can't resign.

-EMMA: No. -And I'm not going to resign.

I had the perfect moment to resign, which was right early on,

when I could have resigned in a dignified and Statesman-like way,

and you both advised me not to resign.

So now I can't resign.

-Good. That's good. That's good. -You shouldn't resign, Peter.

What, what's going to happen is this. One of you has got to go.

I want both of you to give me reasons why you shouldn't resign.

Er, because...because I'm a, a Special Advisor

to a...senior cabinet minister.

That's a job description, Philip.

-That's a job description. -That's not a reason,

-that's just your job... -I am...

...from which I'm asking you why you shouldn't resign.

I...know...everything about you.

I am a, a world expert in, in, in Peter Mannion,

from, er, PIN number to inside leg measurement.

I, I, I'm there, erm, you know...

-What's his inside leg measurement? -Thirty-four.

I've given you everything, Peter, you can't...

I mean, I don't have anything else, that's the point.

I don't, I don't have any friends, I don't have any life,

I haven't had sex for five years and I don't even enjoy it,

so I'm not going to get anyone pregnant.

I'm never going to get anyone pregnant, okay?

You know, I'm fucking seedless.

Whereas she's just, just a fucking baby bomb, okay?

-Phil, you are just a... -And she's going to go off

all over the office and, and leave you.

-I'm going to be here. -I'm sorry, I'm sorry,

-but my good name is at stake here. -PETER: Oh, Christ.

Peter, you must understand. I am an innocent woman.

I'm the DoSAC One.

That's it, I've had enough! I've had enough of all of you.

You're all shit, I'm going to sort it out by myself.

Did you hear that?

I can't bear that you think about me like this.

-Don't follow me, Terri. -Please.

-Stop following me. -I insist. I insist. Peter, please.

All right, Terri, I admit it, I'm in love with you.

Now fuck off back to your office and organise the wedding.

-Mannion goes Mel Gibson. -Spot it.

-You know, you know what you've done? -Yeah?

You, you, you have bought a fan, you plugged it in,

you turned it on, you turned the dial up to maximum.

It wasn't a weak fan, it wasn't one of those office fans.

I was a Dyson. And I stood the other side of it.

-Did a liquid shit on it. -Trousers down.

And where did the shit go?

(IMITATES EXPLOSION)

All over Mannion.

(MOBILE CHIMES)

-That's just priceless. -Fuck, hang on.

-What? -Erm, check the fucking emails.

What are you talking about?

What the fuck did you give to Glenn?

-Well, it was just the email, just... -Yeah, but it's the whole...

-We're on the email. -Oh, fucking hell.

-Wha... Why did you, why did you... -No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

...why did you, why did you leave us on the, on the dongle?

Because he's only supposed to send the fucking top part of it.

Why did you give him the choice?

Because an email has a chain, Fergus, it has a fucking chain

that goes all the way down.

Adam, there is now shit all over me!

-Oh, Jesus Christ! -How come there is shit on me?

Thanks, Adam!

Look, it's not my fucking fault! He's supposed to redact it!

I just wanted one solid shit, to go in one direction!

Not madras, fucking everywhere!

Alastair? Yeah, it's, er, it's Peter Mannion.

I just wanted to give you a nudge on this.

The real story here isn't all this jokey email nonsense,

it's that Mr Tickle's medical records were illegally acquired.

Yeah.

He's been the victim of Mr Blag.

Okay, bye.

Hi. I just, er...needed a pen.

Would you like a pen as a small recompense

for the vital, vital work that you do?

I'll tell you what I'd like, Peter.

I'd like a departmental in ten. Regarding leakage.

And as of now, your department's in lockdown.

No emailing, no Diving Bell and Butterflying,

no communication, nada!

Just a little piece of electric paper, that's all.

I mean, off the record,

there are a number of machines that emails can be set to.

Why would I know anything about this email?

Why me? Thank you.

(PHONE RINGING)

Comms. Off the phones, now.

I think I've just perjured myself.

Can you perjure yourself on the phone or is it only a court thing?

I'm so sorry for the delay. I promise it won't be much longer.

And that's not a political promise,

that's a real promise. (LAUGHS)

Hey! 2,000-year-old man!

Why the fuck did you send the whole email? Huh?

You were supposed to redact it, send the top email,

not the whole fucking exchange!

Jesus Christ on a crystal meth binge!

Terri and I sent what you gave me.

Terri? Why the fuck...

The only reason I'd ever ask Terri for help

is to shoot me if I ever ask Terri for help!

Same reason you gave it to me. Distance.

Two people! Twice the distance!

Terri doesn't give us any distance!

Terri gives me a twitch! Right here!

Yeah, laugh it up, Glenn. But I've got a twitch called Terri!

I'm actually here, you know.

Yeah, and that, in a nutshell, is the whole fucking problem!

* Fuck you very much *

Five minutes, guys, yeah?

Thanks.

Glenn, what about my tea shop?

It got closed. There's been a murder.

NEWSREADER: ...that there will be a full inquiry...

OLLY: An inquiry into all of leaking. All of leaking.

We are so... We are so screwed.

He's done it.

That chinless horse fiddler,

our fucklustrious PM has opened Pandora's fucking Box

and curled a massive steamer right into it.

In the time it has taken for Terri to extract herself from a Bluetooth,

this little inquiry has fused.

It is now growing faster than the speed of bloody light!

It's not going to be something that we can see from space,

it's going to be space!

Brian Cox is going to phone me and ask for the film rights!

But what leak, what leak, what fucking leak?

Anything! If I find out that anyone from here has leaked anything,

I will make sure they have to emigrate after this

to a country where they don't speak English

and there's no internet!

But every, everyone who leaked anything, that would fill the fucking Caspian Sea.

We're just a drop in the ocean here.

No, no, no, what you are, Peter, is leak zero.

It started here.

You have presided over a shambolic showering of info.

Peter Mannion, Singing in the Rain!

(MOBILE RINGING)

Oh, Christ.

-Hello, Malcolm. -Right, was this your idea?

Because I don't remember signing any suicide pact.

Malcolm, look, I'm as shocked about this as you are.

Yes, you sound really shocked, you big fucking spunk lolly.

Yeah, look, I don't even know what that is.

But I, you know, I think we all need time to, to process this data, yeah?

-What the fuck is going on? -All right, Fergus.

What the fuck is going on?

The Ark has been opened. And your face is going to melt.

There's going to be an inquiry.

Have I just stepped through a portal into a sausage machine?

Because this is making mincemeat of my head.

It's the end of the world as we know it.

To paraphrase a popular fucking Bangles song.

It was, erm... It was R.E.M.

Don't start contradicting me on that kind of shit.

Okay, Robyn, it's over to you. It's show time.

Let's just give it another five minutes.

You know, there's still a blogger from The Huffington Postto come.

Is that it? It looks like a paedophile's funeral.

It doesn't matter. We've gotta get out of here ASAP.

Leaking is a fundamental component of our governmental system.

If a government can't leak, do you know what happens?

Dark shit builds up

and then it bursts.

And that's something you don't want to see.

You think your appendix was bad!

Hi, and welcome to the launch of, er, of Carers Pass.

You know, we thought long and hard about how in these straitened times

we could help those who don't help themselves,

but rather help others.

Please give it up for The Carers.

This is the gift that's going to go on giving, believe you me.

So you'd better keep your head down.

And I don't mean just when you're frequenting your favourite glory holes.

Yeah, well... Whereas your closet is completely free of skeletons,

isn't it, Malcolm? 'Cause you've buried them in a landfill in Essex.

(WHISPERING)

Oh, yeah, sorry. And just to say that we're very proud

to say that, er, er, this, this policy

has been pushed through by our party.

We do have a voice...in this coalition and it, it is being heard.

When this inquiry lands, you'd better have developed a very flat,

stony face with no expression.

But that'll be easy for you. It's your fucking come face, isn't it?

Hi, my name's Rohinka.

Okay. Listen, when they dry up, just jump in, do a quick Q&A

and wrap it up, yeah?

Who am I, fucking Kirsty Wark?

No.

ROHINKA: ...lead a normal life,

so this, this, this Carers Pass is, is, is a blessing, really.

I, Peter Mannion...

Stewart Pearson...

-Fergus Williams... -Adam Kenyon...

Emma Florence Messinger...

Philip Bartholomew Cornelius Smith...

Theresa Jessica Coverley...

Robyn Murdoch...

-Glenn Cullen... -Oliver Francis Reeder...

Nicola Alison Murray...

I, Malcolm Tucker, do sincerely declare and affirm

that the evidence I shall give will be the truth,

the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Thank you.