(Nicola is trying to talk to Malcolm...)
MalcolmOh, oh, oh. Incoming body parts. Excuse me. (Malcolm answers his cell phone) Look, if this has got any bigger, you're gonna feel the thump of a fucking harpoon in your thorax.
(to Robyn) Does he know? Well, follow him.
Malcolm
(still on his phone) I hope you like shitting toenails, because that's what you're gonna be doing all of next week. And don't worry, I've painted them yellow so they'll look like fucking sweet corn.
(Robyn is trying to secretly follow Malcolm, but backs away when she sees him coming her way)
Malcolm
(on his phone) The guy's a fucking liability! (softly) Jesus Christ. Listen, I want...
(Robin makes her way back towards the others, and they have to whisper so Malcolm doesn't hear them talking.)
Look, I couldn't hear everything, he takes very long strides...
What, are you a fucking penguin? Just run.
Look, I'm a civil servant, not a fucking Olympic athlete!
(Malcolm seems to be off his cell phone...)
Malcolm
Right. What's occurring, Hermann Goring?
(But then his cell phone rings. Again.)
Malcolm
(annoyed) WHAT? (And then...Malcolm doesn't like what he hears...) You're fucking kidding me. Excuse me. (to Nicola and the team) Two minutes and I will be back.
Malcolm (arriving at Nicola's Guardian lunch): Afternoon, ladies! I heard there were sandwiches and I'm a fucker for cress – No no no, please don't get up, I'm not Viagra. Geoffrey. (shakes hands)
Malcolm
Good to see you. John, how are you doing? (John gets up to shake hands) I just want to tell you, I really enjoyed your novel.
Malcolm
Way of writing a fucking awful story. Joking, joking!
(Nicola has accidentally revealed the data loss to an on-the-record journalist.)
Malcolm
FUCK'S SAKE! Jesus – Christ! Well, now we've got another fucking adjective to add to fucking 'smug' and 'glum', haven't we?! Fucking 'RETARDED'! JESUS Ch– Do you not think it would be germane to check who you're talking to?! IT'S A FUCKING NEWSPAPER OFFICE! IT'S NOT A FUCKING SANATORIUM FOR THE FUCKING DEAF, IS IT?! ARE YOU SO DENSE?! Am I gonna have to run around, slapping badges on people, with a big tick on some and a big cross on others, so you know when to shut your gob and when to open it?! Jesus Christ! Oh, but that'll probably confuse you as well, won't it?! That'll be too confusing! You'd see the cross and go "Oh, fuck! X marks the spot! Better tell this little person all about the Prime Minister's fucking CATASTROPHIC ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION!" Oh, but not to worry, not to worry, you've sent fucking Ollie over there to deal with it. (Nicola tries to speak) FUCKING OLLIE! HE'S A FUCKING- HE'S A FUCKING KNITTED SCARF, THAT TWAT, HE'S A FUCKING BALACLAVA!
(Meanwhile, Malcolm is joking around with journalists from various newspapers, including Angela Heaney from the Daily Mail.)
Malcolm
(looking at pictures) I mean, these are the worst pictures I've seen, really, they are. I don't know who was taking them. Roy fucking Orbison you've got doing that.
Malcolm
(to Angela) Yeah?
Have you seen Rob Holt's blog today?
Malcolm
(sarcastically) Oh yeah, of course. Yeah, I read Rob Holt's blog. I read all the blogs. 'Cause basically, I'm an under-employed, fat fucking loser. Got nothing better to do with my time than to sit in my bedroom like a fat space-hopper in a tracksuit, reading inconsequential, un-spellchecked shit fabricated by other fat, farting, fucking losers.
Well, he's saying that the big health numbers in the PM's speech -- they're from a false sample. Apparently, they're -- they're lifted from Andrew Dover's blog, not from the ONS.
Malcolm
I wouldn't take any notice of it. There's-There's nothing in that at all.
Malcolm
Nothing at all. I'll catch you's later, okay?
(But sure enough, Malcolm gets on his cell phone and calls his personal assistant, Sam.)
Malcolm
(on his phone) Sam, the health stats fuck-up is out there. And I don't know who's doing it, but I want his balls on a fucking plate. (beat) Well, I don't know. Google "goolies."
(The situation looks bleak for Malcolm, UNTIL...Ollie introduces him to Julie. Malcolm is genuinely warm and empathetic towards her.)
(to Malcolm) Uh, look, um, this is Julie Price. She is, uh, the People's Champion that Nicola is announcing in her speech.
Malcolm
(to Julie) Julie Price...I'm so sorry for your loss. Hey, you're being looked after well enough, yeah?
Malcolm
You stick with Ollie. He's...yeah, he's a good guy. I know he looks a bit like an anorexic Leo Sayer there. Listen, could I have a photograph taken with you?
Malcolm
Yeah. I've got a little correction of memories, you know. Mandela and stuff. (to Ollie) Ollie, would you be so kind as to do the honor, good sir?
(Ollie takes a picture of Malcolm and Julie together.)
JJulie
(to Malcolm, happily) You're a stunner, ye.
Malcolm
No, no, you're a stunner. You really are. Very impressive. You know, I'm not the only one who finds you impressive. The PM...he finds you very impressive.
Malcolm
I think that there is a point in his speech today...
Malcolm
...where he would be very honored to introduce you. Is that something that would interest you?
Yes, it might clash, though, with, uh, with Nicola's championing of Julie's cause.
JJulie
Oh, God. Look, the nerves are getting to us. I need to use your bog.
(Poor Julie has to go to the bathroom...)
Malcolm
Yeah, that's the ladies there.
(Ollie doesn't like what Malcolm's doing.)
Malcolm, you can't...You can't do that. She's our bonus track. She's our DVD Easter egg. We need her for the speech.
Malcolm
Boo-fucking-hoo. Can do and have done.
Yes, but that...What, in two hours, two hours, think of a whole new speech?
Malcolm
Oh, welcome to the Men's Room! Jesus Christ, listen. It's this simple, right? If she goes on with Nicola, she'll be watched by 15 housebound mouth-breathers. Oh, and by the ever-swelling ranks of the unemployed, who fucking hate us, by the way. But if she goes on with Tom, she'll make the 10 o'clock news, right?
(Julie has finally returned, AND...)
Malcolm
Julie, hi. Feel better?
Malcolm
Yes. Now what's it gonna be, Julie darling? Do you want to go with the teas maid...or with the caravan?
JJulie
(excited) I'm going with the caravan. That is the Prime Minister?
Malcolm
That is the Prime Minister, yes.
JJulie
(to Ollie) Sorry, Ollie. It's nice to meet you.
Malcolm
Julie, this way, come on. Are you actually in the hotel, or are you staying...
(As Malcolm and Julie leave together, Ollie runs back to Glenn's room to alert Glenn and Nicola of the bad news.)
Malcolm
Now that you've lost Geordie Julie, the merry fucking widow, you've got a hole in your speech. Right, so have we got a contingency for that?
Yeah, we'll figure it out, thank you.
Malcolm
Well look, why don't I help you? Let's roll some tits up the flagpole, and see if anyone gets wood!
Oh Christ, it's like being trapped in a fucking boys' toilet. (beat) Right, all we've got is Mannion's second holiday, we need to take the piss out of that.
OK, how about, er, "He's called Peter 'Two Holidays' Mannion"?
Malcolm
Glenn.
Um, 'He's, um – works really hard – at planning his holidays'?
Malcolm
(unimpressed) That's really fucking quality fucking explosive sarcasm you're lobbing at them, mate. Boom.
(to Nicola) I feel I'm in a therapy group being run by my own rapist.
Malcolm
Right, okay, well, how about...
(Suddenly, everybody's cell phones are ringing...)
Oh my God...it's got out.
No, really? I thought it was room service cold-calling.
Malcolm
Who the fuck is leaking this out there? (to Ollie) Find out who's pissing this over the wall.
Yeah, w-well, the thing about the Internet, Malcolm, is it's quite big...
Malcolm
IT'S ON ROB HOLT'S BLOG!
I don't know what he looks like. I don't...
Malcolm
(to Nicola) You need to get your people's champion out of this hotel before some tabloid minge-flannel starts soft-soaping her.
So we've got her back again now. Is that right?
Malcolm
Don't be so fucking touchy about this! I've a lot to fucking deal with here!
(sarcastically) MY responsibility again NOW! Doesn't matter about the speech. That's fine, Malcolm.
Malcolm
Yeah, it does fucking matter!
(Nicola then slams the bathroom door.)
Malcolm
Women, huh? Women slam the door, where did this idea come from, huh? (bangs on the bathroom door) WILMAAA! Fuck off!
(from inside the bathroom) I'm making a phone call.
Malcolm
Make a phone call! Phone a fucking friend!
(deleted scene)
Malcolm
And I need you, big man.
Malcolm
Because I'm gonna invite some hacks up here. I'm gonna give them some drinks, and I'm gonna show them what good mates we are, huh?
Malcolm
Yes, we do have to do it! And I want you to be telling some really fucking amusing anecdotes about our long weekend in Prague.
(to Ollie) He's gonna hit me again, isn't he? I don't mind being hit, it's just the making up afterwards that scares me shitless.
(deleted scene)
Terri, I really need you to come down here and help me. All I've got here, right, is a psycho man, a bleeding man and a sarky teenager. It's like some fucking logic problem: 'How do I get the chickens across the river? How do I get the fucking chickens across the river?'
(deleted scene)
See, this is the problem with the modern age, the blogosphere, and it is a fear, it's everywhere, we call it the i-Zilla. No one can tame the Beast of Blogmin.
Malcolm
What the fuck are you talking about? Make a deal with these bloggers. Threaten them! It's your fucking job, isn't it?
Malcolm, that is not how the internet works; it's a world-wide, you know, web, that's where that comes from.
Malcolm
Look: I need you to find the incy-wincy fucking spider, take your rolled-up wank mag and fucking squash the fucker, right, can you do that?
Malcolm, I've got a lot on. (Malcolm glares at him) Not a problem. That's a Duggan promise.
(deleted scene)
Ollie (looking out of the window onto the car park): You've got to see this, come here. Glenn is putting on his retrosexual moves.
Nicola (looking out of the window): Who is she?
I dunno, but she's smashed, if she is a she. I think I can see her madam's apple there.
Maybe they're just talking.
Nicola and Ollie (seeing them kiss): Oh!
That's horrific. This is like the worst porn film ever. This is like the porn film where the woman rings for a special adviser to give her an overview of the last five years of social policy and they end up fucking.
(both laugh)
Nicola: The Porn Ultimatum.
Malcolm
(explaining the Opposition Drill) When the Opposition are here, you tell them nothing except where the toilets are, but you lie about that. And Terri, keep your tits in.
(receiving an alert on her phone) That's Stewart. I'm just gonna have to show him up.
Great, Mr. Blue Sky; we're not gonna practise fist bumps again, are we?
Phil, if you mention anything out of turn while I'm gone, I will send your mum that picture of you dressed up as Cher, OK? (taps her phone) One button... (leaves)
Celine Dion, karaoke night. It's totally harmless. (checks that Emma has gone) OK, Ollie told Emma that there's a shitstorm brewing about the minister's daughter.
She was only the minister's daughter, but she knew how to take the collection.
Oh, shit, strike that last remark, it's actually a little poem that... gets much worse.
Ah Peter, glad we could hook up. Just wanted to take a couple of turns with you on the ideas carousel, yeah? Think of ways we could turn your team into a little cluster of excellence.
Oh, you mean you wanted to have a chat.Peter: I hate to be a spoilsport, but can we briefly refocus on our visit to DoSAC?
Yeah, who are you meeting?
Got a couple of meetings with two top people, you know, the big swinging dicks.
Yeah, OK, well don't forget the tiny static dicks.
Yeah, we're not allowed to talk to her boyfriend, though.
Oi! Oi! James fucking May! It was you sprayed the private information about the school, wasn't it?! Like Jenson Button shaking up a magnum of piss!
Oh, just listen to yourself! Okay, at first it was private information between you and your boss, then it was private information between you and your girlfriend, then it was private information between your girlfriend and her colleagues!
I mean, I can draw you a diagram if you like! it's like a fucking swine flu pandemic!
I've clearly made an error, which I have to take up with Emma...
... but you shouldn't be fucking using it for political –
This is your fault! It's not my fault! You're like the man who fucked the monkey that gave us AIDS, that's who you are!
(incredulous) I'm like the man who did what? Who "fucked the monkey (laughs) that gave us AIDS"?
That's right: you keep saying "it wasn't me, it wasn't me" and there's monkey shit on your balls, not mine!
Malcolm
(walking in) I love it, I love it - it's the pre-match sparring for the big Super Gayweight Title Fight, eh? (makes boxing motions) Okay, Oliver, wipe away the pre-cum. You've got some work to get on with.
(quietly) Yeah, Malcolm, um...?
Malcolm
What?
The Nicola thing, I think, is getting a bit worse. It looks like her daughter's about to be excluded for bullying.
Malcolm
Yeah, I know, Glenn told me that.
Malcolm
Yeah. The thing is, all we've got to do is, if we try and keep this info very, very closely contained, we'll be all right, yeah?
Malcolm
Okay?
Malcolm
On you go. (walks up to Phil) Okay, Shitehead Revisited. Did you know that Nicola Murray's daughter is about to be expelled from school for fucking bullying?
(to Malcolm) What are you doing?
Malcolm
(to Ollie) Don't worry. (to Phil) Did you not know that?
Malcolm
Of course you wouldn't know that, 'cause the only people who know that right now are Mrs. Murray, her daughter, Ollie and me, yeah? If this gets into the press, I would know that it came from you.
Clever. (chuckles, trying to hide his nervousness)
Malcolm
(also chuckles, rather deviously) And I would rain down on you so hard, you would have to be reassembled by fucking air crash investigators. (Phil tries to protest) Do not fucking interrupt me, son, ever! Now get this into the noggin, right? You breathe a word of this, to anyone, you mincing fucking CUNT, and I will tear your fucking skin off, I will wear it to your mother's birthday party, and I will rub your nuts up and down her leg whilst whistling Bohemian fucking Rhapsody, right?!
Malcolm
Now...get out of my fucking sight!
Yeah. (wanders off, visibly terrified)
Malcolm
Listen, Nicky, this - it's a war, right? It's a fucking war. Now, you can't change a thing unless you win the war, and you cannot win the war unless you're prepared to fight.
That's what this all about for you, isn't it? It's just about fighting and fucking... power. Does it never occur to you that your poisonous male obsession with conflict, which is making people despise politics? And by the way, don't ever fucking call me Nicky!
Malcolm
Spare me your fucking psycho-fanny, right? What do you think fucking Mannion's doing right now? Michael Aspel's cooler, fucking younger brother? I'll tell you what he's doing. He's sitting around with his pals, you know what they're doing? They're telling very fucking nasty jokes about your family! They're playing fucking pin the cock on the fucking donkey's face with your face there, 'cause you're the fucking donkey, right? So you should just fucking count your blessings! Ella's not been excluded. That's what you wanted, right? Yes?
Yeah, I really wanted Ella to be able to stay at a shit school, the only redeeming feature of which was the headmaster who, thanks to me, has now been forced out.
Malcolm
Yeah, well... maybe... maybe in a term or so, you know, we might understand if you... very quietly decided to move her.
Malcolm
Yeah.
(composing herself) Good. Good. OK, so it's Mannion. What do we do? I mean, do we go after him with one of your, you know, things that you say, like a big bum-dildo of vengeance or something?
Malcolm
There you go, that's my girl, yeah! Indiana Murray and the Bum-Dildo of Vengeance, I like it.(deleted scene)
(arriving at the DoSAC building)
This is mint. It's like the fall of Troy but with visitor's passes instead of a wooden horse.
Peter (quoting Tennyson's Ulysses): 'It may be that the gulfs will wash us down, / It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles / And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.'
Do you fancy a cup of tea?
Er, yes, you got anything herbal?
OK, yeah. (walking off, to herself) Something perfumed and essentially gay. (sees Phil) Oh, speak of the devil. Whoa, you look like you've shat yourself.
I had a close encounter with Malcolm Tucker. (Emma laughs) It's not funny, he's like some horrible character from an Ian Rankin novel.
I don't know. It's a bit of a blur to be honest, I just kind of ran out of the building. I just kept walking, I ended up in Greenwich.
I think I was following the river, I wanted to get to the sea.(deleted scene)
Do you channel all your passions into pie charts, Stewart? I don't even think you're excited about winning. I bet when you orgasm, you just put a little tick on a chart next to your bed.
(Malcolm is in his office talking to someone on his cell phone.)
Malcolm
No, I don't give a fuck whose birthday it is, I'm going to enjoy myself here listening to this Murray-Mannion ding-dong on the radio. The fat cat story's breaking, so the opposition are gonna be sweating like Vegas Elvis on a squash court.
(Malcolm's personal assistant, Sam, comes into the office with a box.)
Malcolm
Stop saying that, right? Just you go home. What is this? Don't...Is this my new anal beads?
(Malcolm looks at the box.)
Malcolm
Okay, this has been X-rayed, yeah? I'm not gonna get fucking, a present bomb in the face?
(Malcolm opens the box. It contains a cake which reads 'Happy Birthday C*nt.')
Malcolm
This could be from anybody. (He opens the accompanying card.) Ah, it's from the Prime Minister. This is fucking Tom's idea of a joke, yeah? And he wonders why we don't let him out in public.
Either of you got any piercings? Any tattoos?
Uh, I've got an appendix scar, does that count?
Well, you know how it is. Out with a bunch of pals, got a bit tipsy, rolled into casualty, yeah. Hey, we all got it done.
Yeah! In your face, bitch!
That's very funny. Nicola Murray, any piercings?
You have got some piercings.
Uh, sorry, no piercings at all, no.
(All the while, Glenn is trying to remind Nicola about her pierced ears.)
Um, some people say that my distinguishing feature would be probably my ears, which I'm told are quite small.
But I do think we have to be a little bit careful about taking too light an approach to culturally sensitive issues, like body piercing or female circumcision...Uh, earrings! Earrings. I've got pierced ears.
Malcolm
(listening to Nicola on the radio) Fuck me, this is like a clown running across a minefield!
The Thick Of It · 395 quotes
