Malcolm Tucker quotes from The Thick Of It

Nicola

Jesus, you're about as on the ball today as a dead seal!

Malcolm

Hey, that's one of my fucking lines!

Malcolm

How fucking dare you? Have you any idea of the amount of pressure that has been exerted on my skull, huh? It feels like my brain has been fucking emptied into little packets, into fucking crisp packets. Cheese and onion fucking crisp packets, that contain my living, breathing, fucking brain!

Terri

Malcolm, I'm really sorry, I –

Malcolm

And these crisp packets – cheese and onion, smoky bacon – they've been stomped on. They've been fucking stomped on! By Ben, fucking Nicola –

Terri

I didn't mean to be horrid –

Malcolm

AND FUCKING YOU!

Malcolm

I'm sorry.

Terri

I'm sorry.

Malcolm

I'm sorry.

Terri

I'm sorry.

Malcolm

No, I'm over it, okay? Don't you apologise, don't you fucking apologise, you don't need to apologise. I love this place. I do! I mean, fucking compared to Number 10, this place, this place is fucking tranquil, yeah? Over there, 300 yards down the road, I mean it's like a fucking cancer ward: I mean, there are people in there, they're fucking screaming at each other. They're screaming, 'You gave me this fucking disease. You gave me this fucking disease!' And every corner that I turn, there's another threat, Terri: hacks! Hacks, fucking vampire hacks! And they're slaughtering us, Terri, THEY ARE FUCKING SLAUGHTERING US, AND THEY WANT MY FACE FOR A FLANNEL!

Terri

Yeah.

Malcolm

And you know what? I used to be the fucking pharaoh, Terri, I used to be the fucking pharaoh! Now I'm fucking floundering in a fucking Nile of shit! But I am gonna fashion a paddle out of that shit. Yeah?

Terri

Mmm. Good idea.

Malcolm

I'm not going down. I am not going down. Yeah?

Terri

(whispers) Yeah.

Malcolm

How are you feeling about things?

Terri

Well, you know, I'm just trying to do my best and, you know, make sure I can still get home by six o'clock. Do you want a huggle?

Malcolm

No, I think – That's nice of you, I really appreciate it. Terri, it's been nice to have a chat, but I've gotta get on.

Terri

Okay.

Malcolm

Yeah. Let's get back on track.

Terri

Get back on track.

Malcolm

As they say, right?

Terri

Funny to use that phrase.

Malcolm

All righty-o, okay, Nicola, let's see you in your office, please.

Ollie

What did he say?

Terri

Dunno, it was all about ancient Egypt.

Ollie

Ancient Egypt?

Terri

Yeah.

Glenn

Uh, sorry I missed it. Did it go well?

Nicola

Nope.

Glenn

Well, uh, more good news. Um...I'm afraid my chances of becoming an MP have been torpedoed...by the U-boat that was you. The selection committee decided that my association with you was too divisive.

Ollie

The dream is over, eh?

Malcolm

I'm devastated. I had 500 quid on you being the new Foreign Secretary.

Ollie

Uh, it's a great loss to regional politics, for sure.

Glenn

(to Nicola) By flying so close to your bright Sun like Icarus, I have crashed to the Earth and died.

Malcolm

Make sure fucking Nicola doesn't top herself, eh?

Terri

Yeah, sure.

Malcolm

Make sure that Ben does.

Ollie

What are you gonna do when the shit goes down, then?

Glenn

Oh, plenty of options, Ollie.

Ollie

Really, have you really, you've got plenty of options, have you? (Glenn nods.) What are those options, let's see, you can't – you can't hold a golf sale sign because of your back, you can't be a prostitute 'cause your waterworks aren't up to it, you can't be a drugs mule, 'cause of your arse, that's too slack, isn't it, so what does that leave you with, you could be – Local weatherman would be perfect; or, er, you could run a whelk stall, how about that? You could be a dinner lady or a sleeping policeman, actually on the road: just lie down, let the cars – You could become one of those people who manipulates their cock and balls into funny shapes for the paying public, it would be nice for them to have a little run out. Or, you could just basically walk into a hospice, and wait to kark it.

Malcolm

That's from me, Cack Efron. It's a coded message basically telling you that, if you ignore me or my fucking calls again, I'll fucking rip your head off, right? I'll fucking plant a palm tree in your neck, and I'll fuck you fucking tenderly in its shade!

Ollie

I can tell you've been away, your threats are including palm trees now.

Malcolm

Jesus Christ, Crosby, Still, Nash and fucking Young – Look at the lot of you, it's like walking into an installation at the Tate Gallery that everybody's forgotten about.

Malcolm

Here they come, it's the Flying Scots-curry-man. (sings) 'Where's your pappadam?' You have got to try this aubergine, it's cooked in ghee, right? I fucking love ghee, it's like fucking freebasing butter. Have some more wine, come on, get quaffing. (mobile rings) Christ, here we go. (answers) No, we don't do takeaway, right? (all laugh, as Malcolm walks away) Listen, see, if this is recorded spam, I'm gonna hunt you down and burst your fucking lungs.

Malcolm

I'm on holidays!

Ollie

Where are you on holiday, where?

Malcolm

Right, OK, I'm in Thailand, in a sex spa. About to get a fucking facial.

Ollie

Right, quick summary: Andy Murray, famous tennis player, also lovely Scotch person, face of Healthy Lifestyle Choices. Nicola Murray, slightly panicky, er, minister-lady: wonder if that's OK with you?

Malcolm

Yeah yeah yeah, Andy Murray, yeah, Andy Pandy, fucking Gandhi having a hand-shandy, whatever, just, you know, fuck off out of my life, OK?

Ollie

Okey dokey! (hangs up. To Nicola and Glenn) The man from Hell Monte, he say 'Fucking aye'!

Malcolm

(apologizing to his guests) Sorry about that. Everybody's heard about the cooking, so it's...

Geoffrey

So, Malcolm, what's all this about?

Malcolm

Well, I know that these are hard times for print journalists, yeah? I mean, I read that on the internet. I mean, one day you're writing for the papers and the next you're sleeping under them.

What, so this is like Malcolm Tucker's Soup Kitchen?

Malcolm

Well, it is, kind of, in a way. I just think that you should have one big square meal before you end up fucking living off white lightning in your own feces. Come on, get stuck in. I'll dish it up for you.

What about Tom bringing back Steve Fleming? Kind of makes you old news, doesn't it?

Geoffrey

You repositioning yourself, Malcolm?

Malcolm

This is about a guy sharing his ghee. That's it. Okay?

Geoffrey

So you're not currying favor, then?

(laughing) Sorry...

Malcolm

(to Geoffrey, jokingly) Fuck you. Get out of my house. Get out of my fucking house. That's it. I know...I mean, no wonder nobody's fucking buying your paper.

Malcolm

So everybody's for coffee, yeah?

Geoffrey

Mmm-hmm.

Malcolm

Yeah, I'm sorry I can't do espressos. But I've made this so thick and black, it'll be like fucking drinking plimsolls.

This Steve Fleming thing is gonna end in tears, isn't it? I mean, you sacked him last time.

Malcolm

All right. Right. Okay. Off the record. Right? Okay? While Steven is a useful tool, and I do emphasize the word "useful" here, I'm still running the show. Right?

Geoffrey

If you're still running the show, why do you need to tell us?

Malcolm

(calmly) Geoffrey, all I'm saying is this: It would be very much fucking appreciated if you could emphasize the fact that I'm at the heart of the government. Because it's fucking true. I am the heart. I am the ventricles. And the fucking aorta.

(chuckling) Malcolm, we get it. You're still the star of the show.

Malcolm

It's not for me to say, darling.

Geoffrey

No, you're still the star of the show. Yeah, until they start wheeling out the celebrities. What's next, Malcolm? Ant and Dec as the new fucking litter tsars? That's when you know you're 20 points behind in the polls.

Malcolm

Oh, well, thank you very much, Mr. Fucking Prick Robinson.

Terri

Nicola, it's your nephew on the phone.

Nicola

What?

Terri

Your nephew. Andy Murray.

Nicola

(Very excited) Fuck! On the line, now? OH, MY GOD! It's Andy Murray on the line! What line?

Terri

Press two.

Nicola

He's not there, Terri! Fuck's sake!

Terri

Maybe it was three.

Nicola

God, it drives me insane! Is he there now?

Terri

Yeah, yeah. Hang on, let me just get him off hold.

Nicola

It really pisses me off! The fucking phones in this whole -- Andy! Hello! It's Nicola Murray, yes! What a delight to talk to you!

Ollie

Hi, Malcolm.

Malcolm

Ollie. Andy Murray.

Ollie

Oh, good. We are literally confirming him as we speak.

Malcolm

Ditch him. We can't go with celebrities. Right? It's just gonna look bad.

Ollie

Why?

Malcolm

We're gonna look desperate, all right?

Ollie

Well, uh...Steve Fleming likes the idea.

Malcolm

Never mind what Mummy says. Just do what Daddy says, right?

Ollie

Yeah, whilst you're on, um, just, um...there's another thing. Uh, Mummy has asked us to publish the crime stats as part of the Transparent Government initiative. Is that all right with Daddy?

Malcolm

It's fine.

Ollie

Really? Because, um, Nicola's got that baffled, panicky look like a child on the ghost train.

Malcolm

Give me a second while I look up my little file of things I really don't give a fuck about. And here we have under the letter N, we've got "nail-bombing golf clubs," there is, uh, the National Trust, there is Newcastle...Nicola Murray. Yes. She's still there. So fucking can Andy Murray and just get on with the fucking crime stats.

Nicola

(still on the phone with Andy) I'll make sure Kate liaises with my press whiz kid, uh, Terri Coverley. She's a woman. But listen, if there is anything else we can do for you, please don't hesitate to call. Dare I say it, we are here to serve, (laughing) if you'll excuse the pun. All right, Andy. Take care. Bye.

Malcolm

(happily) Good morning, good morning, good morning! I'm back! I'm sorry I left my sombrero at home, but here I am. What do you think of the tan, huh? What do you think of this shade? I call it "Custard Cancer." (Malcolm gets a delivery.) Oh, thank you very much.

Where did you go?

Malcolm

I went to, um, Easter Island. I thought I'd spend my time there re-chiseling all the statues, so that they'd look like Westlife. How about a coffee?

Oh, I've sent you a link to Andy Murray's website. There's, uh, something you should see.

Malcolm

Andy Murray's website?

Malcolm

Andy says, "Just agreed to lead the government's Healthy Choices campaign. Eat, live, be well." Fuck a Pot Noodle.

Malcolm

Sam, prepare my horse. I ride – to DoSAC!

Steve

Malcolm!

Malcolm

Oh, there he is, Bob Carolgees; how's the wee comedy dog?

Steve

Welcome back. Good holiday? I hear your kitchen's lovely at this time of year.

Malcolm

Yeah, well actually, I went to Spain.

Steve

Oh, nice.

Malcolm

Yeah yeah, I went to Malaga, it was lovely. I was golfing with Stephen Hawking, he's fucking shit. He lied about his handicap. Mind you, I never had to hire a golf buggy, I just sat in his lap.

Steve

Please. Why do we have to be like this? All this negative energy. Come on!

Malcolm

What?

Steve

Well, we've got to work together. So, you know...

Malcolm

So what? I mean, that doesn't mean we have to like each other, does it?

Steve

No, I mean...

Malcolm

(to the passer-by) Sorry. (He politely lets him pass through.)

Steve

We both know we don't like each other, everyone knows that, we are the Gallagher brothers of politics.

Malcolm

How does that work? Does that mean that I'm the semi-talented songwriter and you're the fucking loutish prick? That's a lovely analogy.

Steve

You were the one who forced me out of the sodding band. (chuckles) Come on, let's have a chat.

Malcolm

You were asked to leave the fucking band. And you wouldn't fucking go, would you? You had to hang on in there, like a limpet up a whale's arse.

Steve

Why do you thrive so much on being disliked?

Malcolm

People hate me? Good! Bring it on. Do you know what they say about you?

Steve

I'm sure you're going to tell me, Malcolm.

Malcolm

I'll tell you exactly what people think about you!

Steve

All right, go on then!

Malcolm

Fuck-all!!

Steve

Oh, do they? FUCK-ALL?

Malcolm

People have no fucking opinion about you! You're like fucking Special K or fucking the Moody Blues. That's you, fucking white noise in the background—Funny? Is that funny? Do you find that funny?

Steve

No, I don't find anything you're saying funny whatsoever. And I'll tell you a home truth, Malcolm Tucker: The people who are really hated in this country, the people who are really hated, are us. This government. How about we stand together? Let's both be team players, shall we?

Malcolm

Were you the Einstein that OK'd this fucking Andy Murray thing at DoSAC? Because I've got The Telegraph on here. (Steve's cell phone then beeps.) And you've probably got The Times asking why the budget's been pre-announced on Twitter by fucking Ryan Giggs.

Steve

(looking at his cell phone) Shit! "The last quarter's crime stats, which DoSAC have published, are unconfirmed projections." Shit!

Malcolm

That's DoSAC for you.

Steve

Come on, Malcolm. Team players!

Malcolm

Bring me sunshine.

Glenn

(on his phone) No, we're not manipulating the figures. Somebody quite simply made a mistake. No. No, I couldn't possibly say who.

Ollie

(on his phone) Glenn Cullen. Glenn with one, one N.

Terri

(on her phone) We have actually decided to go in a different direction from Andy.

Glenn

(to Malcolm) Good holiday?

Malcolm

Shut it, you fucking hairdresser.

Ollie

(to Malcolm) Got any photos?

Malcolm

I've got a photo of you in a minute with your cock nailed to the desk. Hey, you want to see something that's truly worth photographing? Look at Steve Fleming at work, eh? That's the real master of spin. He's Spinny fucking Hendrix.

Steve

Nicola, you and your department have screwed up!

Malcolm

(entering) I'd like to agree with the previous speaker, only adding the words 'fucking royally'.

Nicola

Oh Jesus, am I being gang-bollocked?

Malcolm

Andy Murray's Henman-fisting us in the press. We can't have that –

Steve

Well, with undue respect, Malcolm, the crime stats cock-up is a much bigger deal.

Nicola

This is such a great double act, isn't it? Good Cock, Bad Cock!

Malcolm

I'll tell you what, why don't you go first, mate? I need a wazz.

Steve

I like you, Nicola, I quite like you. But darling, I've gotta ask you, what the bloody hell happened?

Nicola

Like you asked, we published the crime figures from 2004 up to the last quarter.

Steve

Yes, up to the last quarter but not up to and INCLUDING the last quarter, you dozy mare!

Nicola

'Up to' includes the thing you're going up to. Right? If you say count up to 20, it means count up to and include the number 20!

Steve

The events leading up to the Second World War do not include the Second World War!

Nicola

We haven't got time for a semantic argument about this.

Steve

Listen, sweetheart –

Nicola

Do not fucking call me sweetheart!

Malcolm

I think you'll find that Steve was addressing me: the 'tache is a bit of a giveaway.

Steve

I will draft a statement.

Malcolm

You fucking will not draft any fucking statement!

Steve

I've been minding the shop!

Malcolm

You were fucking minding the shop, and what happened? A bunch of fucking schoolkids came in and fucking dropped their trousers and fucking had a shit in aisle 5!

Steve

Well thank you for giving us a guided tour around the Freudian nightmare of your head!

Nicola

Could you two decide between you in which order, and from which direction, I'm gonna be shafted?

Malcolm

(to Nicola) Ignore him. Just come with me. Come into my office.

Steve

(to Malcolm) Let's deal with the crime stats...

Steve

(knocking on the door) Come on. Malcolm. Malcolm. MALCOLM! (Steve starts laughing uncomfortably) Sorry about this, everybody.

Malcolm

Goodbye. Give my regards to the rest of the fucking Village People.

Terri

(outside the door) Sorry, Nicola, Mal--um, excuse me. It's Andy Murray. He's-he's insisting on talking to you.

Malcolm

(to Nicola) Talk to him.

Nicola

What?

Malcolm

Get him back on board. Fucking talk to him.

Nicola

NO!

Malcolm

(whispering) Yes.

Nicola

You cannot be serious!

Malcolm

Was that an attempt at a joke?

Nicola

You told me to kill it! I've killed it!

Malcolm

Right now, some photos in the papers of a very boring man with tight white shorts on is gonna be a very pleasant distraction from Steve's fucking crime stats abortion.

Nicola

If we need a fucking celebrity, can we try somebody else? Steve Redgrave.

Malcolm

He's a boring fuck!

Nicola

Lewis Hamilton.

Malcolm

Fucking boring, boring fuck. And fucking drives a car.

Nicola

Chris Boardman.

Malcolm

Fucking cyclist! Are you fucking mental? Everybody hates cyclists! Even fucking cyclists hate fucking cyclists! Plus, he's a boring fuck!

Nicola

I cannot...

Terri

(still outside the office) Paula Radcliffe?

Nicola

No, she shat in the street!

Malcolm

And she's a boring fuck as well.

Nicola

How about we just launch the policy without a celebrity?

Malcolm

(sarcastically) Oh, great idea. "Hello, there. Hi, everyone. I, Nicola Murray, would like to say to you that even though you don't fucking know me from fucking Adam, I think you should cut down on carbs."

Malcolm

Just try and wrap your gin-addled brain about this, right? I did say I was at the heart of government. But when...

Steve

Malcolm.

Malcolm

(on his phone) Excuse me.

Steve

I need to talk to you.

Malcolm

(to Steve) One second, please. (back to his phone) Listen, when that...When that incident occurred, I was on holiday. Are you saying to me that my wee caravan's a great fucking waste of time? And my stupid fucking wing mirror extensions?

Steve

(pointing to the TV) The crime stats and Andy Murray, Malc. It's a double fault.

Malcolm

(answering a knock at his door) Listen, if you are not a prostitute or a pizza guy, fuck off! (to Steve) Steve, listen, could you eat or fuck whatever's at the door on your fucking way out, please? (to a colleague) No thanks. (back on his phone) How can I be held responsible? What, for what? I've created a what around the government? I've created a vibe? Listen, son, the only fucking vibe you have to worry about is the one that your wife hides in her knicker drawer. (back to Steve) I am on top of this, okay?

Steve

Oh, fine, fine. You know, I'm just saying I'll gladly lend you a hand if you feel the need to keep your head down.

Malcolm

I don't need to keep my head down, because unlike yourself, I don't give blowjobs to truckers.

Malcolm

I SAID FUCK OFF!

Malcolm

Oh, it's Lord Nicholson! What an enormous pleasure this is!

Julius

(with a big smile) Well, in fact, it's, um, the Right Honorable the Lord Nicholson of Arnage. And the kissing of feet may commence!

Malcolm

You got all your stuff ready for your official lording ceremony? Have you got your mink thong and your ermine colostomy bag?

Julius

No, I don't, no. I have to hire that, unfortunately. I can't wear it on the Tube or the bus, but I would. It would be great larks, but there we go.

Steve

How about a coffee? Coffee?

Julius

Well, um, if there's coffee going, I'd never say no to a nice cup of coffee.

Malcolm

Do you not drink coffee anymore? Is it all port and swan's blood these days?

Julius

Swan's blood. That does sound nice. No, I'm just sort of passing through, because obviously we need to start booting up this crime stats inquiry. But it's in effect an investigation into the facts. But I thought since I was passing through...

Malcolm

Yeah, but you don't have to talk to me about that, do you? 'Cause I was on my holidays then. Did you get my postcard?

Julius

Well, I will speak to whomsoever I need to speak to, holiday or no holiday?

Malcolm

Where did you learn to speak like that? Is there a special school that's just you and Brian Sewell went to?

Julius

I'm gonna leave you to it, frankly.

Malcolm

So soon?

Steve

And I'm gonna make tracks as well, Malcolm.

Malcolm

Okay, good to see you both.

Steve

(to Malcolm, softly) The problem is that you are shifting from the man people love to hate to the man people just hate. From Simon Cowell to Piers Morgan.

Malcolm

See you later, and remember, my door's always open.

Malcolm

Hey, Dora the Explorer.

Nicola

(sighing) Still here, then, Malcolm?

Malcolm

Time for a milky drink? Come on. Come on in. I wanna have a word with you.

Malcolm

There you go. How was Cabinet? Was it good? Is Tom looking after you?

Nicola

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

Malcolm

Well, I think you'll find that's what we masters of the dark arts call a blip. Tomorrow that will all be old news. It'll be like the fucking War of the Roses. Or AIDS. Remember AIDS? Listen, Nicola, see that? Did Julius mention to you about his inquiry?

Nicola

Yeah.

Malcolm

The inquiry into the whole fucking crime stats cock-up?

Nicola

Yeah.

Malcolm

You know the phone call that came through to me from your office? You know, about the whole idea?

Nicola

Yeah, yeah.

Malcolm

It didn't happen, right?

Nicola

You want me to cover your back?

Malcolm

I want you to get the old inquiry screen out and slap it on, fucking factor 50, why not? Listen, I'll tell you what. This is what I'll do. I will get for you some really good press attention for your fucking Healthy Choices nonsense. How about that? I'll get you some big fucking healthy headlines.

Nicola

You're in no position to give me anything. You're not -- you can't even get a fucking bagel cleaned up off your door. Do you mind?

Malcolm

What? Do you think I can't get it up anymore? Is that it? You're looking at fucking Lazarus, sweetheart. And not just plain Lazarus. I'm fucking self-raising Lazarus, right?