Jamie McDonald quotes from The Thick Of It

Peter

Do I know you? Oh, don't you work for somebody famous? Er, Malcolm Hamish MacDeath?

Jamie

It's, er, Peter Onion, isn't it?

Peter

Hah! That's right.

Jamie

I always forget, were you the forced abortion or the love child? Or the guy who asphyxiated himself with a kiwi?

Peter

Just the love child: I was the quiet one.

Phil

Like John Deacon in Queen.

Jamie

Is your department looking at a 10 million overspend? Yes, or no?

Ben

Well, I don't have the figures to hand, but all I can say is that if there has been an overspend or a perceived overspend within this department, then certainly I think I've – (sees Jamie mime fellatio) He's not gonna do that, is he?

Malcolm

Oh yes, he will, and he will do a lot more. Jazz hands, he'll be touching you up under the table, he's got all the tricks.

Ben

No he won't! Fuck off, Malcolm.

Malcolm

You, listen. First things first: you need some interruption lines, yeah? Something that you can throw in.

Ben

All right: how about, er, 'I will answer the questions in the order you asked them, Jeremy'.

Jamie

That makes you sound like a smug Oxbridge twat. Oh, I know you are, but everyone doesn't need to know.

Malcolm

Oh hey, hello, here he is! The walk of shame.

Jamie

You never told us you had epilepsy of the eyes. Was that a sweat, or were you crying?

Malcolm

Have I seen you on the telly?

Ben

(laughs) Yeah. Blockbuster, 1991, I got a Gold Run.

Malcolm

You know what, I have never seen anyone sweat so much in my life. And I've had a sauna with Pavarotti! I know that politicians and hot air are supposed to go together, but I've never actually seen one vapourise!

Ben

Can I get you two fellows a drink?

Malcolm

An orange juice, yeah, yes.

Ben

Jamie?

Jamie

Oh, I'll have a pint of 'Fuck right off and die, you miserable fucking tosser'. Do they do that in here?

Malcolm

He's a wee bit disappointed.

Jamie

We'll get you on Newsround next time. You reflected badly on me, and I don't like that.

Ben

Oh come on, Jamie, look, I'll get you a drink and then we'll –

Jamie

DO YOU WANT A FUCKING SPLINTER GLASS FACIAL? I'm not pretending to hate you here, I actually fucking hate you! I'm not playing a fucking game. Fuck off! (leaves)

Malcolm

He trained as a priest.

Ben

Really? Yeah, he'd be fantastic, I'd confess everything to him.

Malcolm

(seeing Nick enter) Oh, Nice Nutter Nick!

What was all that about?

Malcolm

(standing up again) Just, you know, putting out a fire.

Definitely out?

Malcolm

Definitely out. Pissed out. Steam and cinders, pal. Does Tom know you're here?

Yeah, of course, yeah.

Malcolm

So how's the rebrand going?

Okay, we've, um, booked him for a photo op on Tuesday. He's taking the family to a Harvester.

Malcolm

(chuckling) Oh, Jesus Christ, really?

Yeah.

Malcolm

(jokingly as a reporter) "Have you been to a Harvester before, Prime Minister?" (and now as Tom) "No, in fact, I've never actually been outside the fucking house with my family before."

Anyway, um, look...do you know the name of the bod who's booked to go on Today in the morning?

Malcolm

Sure, yeah. Do you know?

Yeah, we just found out. So -- you know who it is?

Malcolm

Well, of course I know. I mean, there's nothing that you know that I don't know. I'm Dr. Fucking Know.

Who is it?

Malcolm

Is this, are you...Are you testing me now? Is it, 'cause I mean, I could test you. I mean, we could have a big match or testostethon. I mean, how do I know that you've got the fucking name, anyway?

Because Hugo at Today told us.

Malcolm

Right.

So what name have you got?

Malcolm

Dan Miller.

Oh, okay, so you do know.

Malcolm

Of course I fucking do.

Look, um, Tom's announcing his team in the morning, and I've just got to stop Dan Miller announcing his team two hours before we announce ours, so...if you want to get on the bus, that's...

Malcolm

That is my mission? You, Mr. Nutty Bar, have given me a task? Jesus Christ, who the fuck does Tom think he is?

The next Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Malcolm.

Malcolm

Nick. (beat) Tell the mighty fucking Tom that his transition will be as smooth as a Brazilian's fuckh--

Jamie

(to Malcolm and Nick) Oh! Trinny and Susannah! Well I'm sorry to burst into your little fucking boutique, but you've got a fight on your hands. That's all I'm saying. I'm backing a rival candidate, (to Malcolm) so fuck you, (to Nick) and fuck you and your Nutter coronation 'cause it ain't happening.

So you're backing Dan Miller, are you?

Jamie

No, I'm not backing Dan Miller! Don't you fucking ever ask me a question again!

Malcolm

Fatty?

Jamie

Oh aye, Fatty, yeah, wee Spider-Man pyjamas, fucking idiot. From now on, it's a proper fight: it's a pub fight, Motherwell rules, and Tom is gonna get a pint glass in his fucking eye, and a pool cue up his arse, and another pool cue in his other fucking eye!

Malcolm

Geoff Holhurst.

Jamie

Oh, what, Mr Baby New Potato Head? Fuck off.

Jamie

Are you a horse?

Cliff

(confused) Sorry?

Jamie

Are you a fucking horse?

Cliff

Um, I don't...I don't know what you mean. What?

Jamie

Are you a fucking horse?

Cliff

Okay, no, I'm not a horse.

Jamie

Are you sure?

Cliff

I'm sure.

Jamie

You've got a pretty fucking horsey face -- and a bit of a horsey wife. Are you a fucking horse? Are you?

Cliff

Okay, leaving the wife aside...

Jamie

Are you a horse?

Cliff

No...

Jamie

EXACTLY!

Cliff

I can categorically say that I am not a horse.

Jamie

Exactly, you are not a fucking horse. You are no horse, and you are not a stalking horse. You are the real thing.

Cliff

(nodding in agreement) Oh, right.

Jamie

And we are going to ram you up Tom's are so hard that he has to shit out of his lying mouth.

Cliff

It's not a very nice image, really, is it? (beat) But it's very motivating.

Robyn

Right, um, Jamie. Look, I just have to say at this point that I do find him just a little bit frightening.

Malcolm

Relax, he has never hit anyone. Or at least, anyone he has hit has never had the balls to take it to a superior. (Robyn still looks terrified) It's a fucking joke. It's a joke, OK? The man is a professional, you will be fine.

Glenn

Actually, Malcolm? We still have no word on Dan Miller. I mean, he's gone dark, he's not answering his phone –

Malcolm

Maybe he's in a hotel with his own huddle. Ring around, try and find him.

Glenn

What, ring every hotel in London and ask if Dan Miller's booked in?

Malcolm

Yeah! Although he could be using an assumed name.

Glenn

So you want me to ring round every hotel in London, and ask if anyone, of any name, has booked in?

Malcolm

Well it will keep you busy, you know, you need to keep the mind active at your age.

Jamie

OK, the line is: wildcat walkout, we'll be talking to the unions, it's too early to comment. Off the record: er, union Neanderthals with brains the size of children's bogies couldn't take the heat of Hugh Abbot's ring-stinging, shit-hot, public sector reforms, but he's flying back like Harrison Ford with a big whip in one hand and a skinny latte in the other and he's gonna whip six shades of shit out of them and save the world, OK?

Jamie

Nobody gives a shit if you got shafted by Malcolm.

Cliff

I will never, ever forgive him for what he did to me.

Jamie

Jesus, this isn't EastEnders! This is politics! We're all in the same plague pit, Cliff, there's no clean hands!

Cliff

All right –

Jamie

(answering the phone) Yeah?

Malcolm

Jamie! What's that sort of droning noise in the background, then?

Cliff

Look, okay, here's a more positive approach, right, I'll try this. (reads from his speech)

Malcolm

It's a kind of boring, kind of low sort of droning, boring, kind of miserable whining, boring kind of, sort of boring noise going on?

Jamie

Yeah, well, you've got it wrong, yeah?

Malcolm

Cliff fucking Lawton. Hey, nice. Was the Cillit Bang guy not available?

Jamie

Fuck you. (hangs up)

Cliff

... To put it simply, I'm back!

Jamie

Oh fuck off, Cliff.

Cliff

Sorry?

Jamie

Fuck off! You're a busted flush! You're not gonna be Prime Minister, you're not gonna be anything, so fuck off.

Cliff

This is your thing, isn't it? Everything has to be an absolute, everything has to be black and white! You know: 'I love you, fuck off!' There are lots of shades of grey, you know!

Jamie

Oh, I know that, I'm looking at fifteen of them right now. See you later, no-mark.

Malcolm

You've got this bullshit Watford story covered, yeah?

Jamie

Yeah.

Malcolm

You and I will have a little discussion later.

Jamie

Yeah. I think Watford will get bumped by the fact that we're about to hand the nuclear codes to a guy who, every now and then, loses it so bad he needs satnav to find his own nipples.

Malcolm

What are you talking about?

Jamie

Well, I just thought it was fair to let everyone know about the Tom rumours, you know. How the guy that's about to become Prime Minister chugs antidepressants like they're fucking Smints. How the Black Dog humps his leg and shits in his duvet every four months; I think that will bump the Watford walkout.

Malcolm

You've gone fucking psycho son, fucking psycho! (leaves) TWAT!

Ollie

(answering his mobile) Hello.

Malcolm

Right, what's the plan?

Ollie

Well, they don't have a plan.

Malcolm

Okay, well perhaps you should give them one.

Ollie

Well, yes, fantastic, actually, Malc, because obviously I have a very suitable one tattooed on the underside of my scrotum, so why don't we use that –

Malcolm

Shut it, you're using up all the minutes on my 'talk till you get head cancer' tariff!

Malcolm

Are you in on this?

Jamie

I'm not leaving it to you, eh? You couldn't organise a bum-rape in a barracks.

Malcolm

Au contraire.

Jamie

What we're having here is a secret conversation, and I'm hoping that this time you can keep the fucking secret, because normally you're about as secure as a hymen in a South London comprehensive.

Terri

Yep, well done: that's offensive on a number of levels in a very concise way.

Angela Heaney

They've ditched Ballentine.

Adam Kenyon

What? Already?

Angela Heaney

Yeah.

Adam Kenyon

What the fuck is wrong with these people? I mean, what is this, potential leader speed dating? Right, who is standing?

Angela Heaney

I dunno.

Angela Heaney

You know, I think you should eat something.

Adam Kenyon

Oh right, yeah! Eat something, that'd be right, wouldn't it? You know what, our coverage so far has either been wrong or guesswork, which was wrong. So all we have now is a story-shaped hole!

Angela Heaney

Seriously, your blood sugar's low.

Adam Kenyon

Right.

Angela Heaney

Makes you very irritable.

Adam Kenyon

No, what makes me very irritable, Angela, is having no fucking stories and having to fill an entire newspaper with just fucking prepositions!

Malcolm

And obviously if you do think about running with this pills story –

Adam Kenyon

Yeah.

Malcolm

I will personally fucking eviscerate you, right?

Adam Kenyon

Right.

Malcolm

And I mean, I don't have your education, I don't know what that means, but I will start by ripping your cock off and I'll busk it from there, okay?

Adam Kenyon

Good, thank you, again.

Malcolm

Talk to you later.

Adam Kenyon

Cheers. Bye bye now. (Hangs up. To Angela) He's a nice guy.

Jamie

(to Terri and Robyn) Oh hey, Desperate Housewives, have you found out who's leaking yet?

Glenn

I have. It's Julius! He's just told me –

Jamie

Wait, no, what – That – Julius?

Glenn

Yeah.

Jamie

Nicholson? That baldy PUSSY? Well, I tell you, if he thinks he's leaking now, wait to see him when I'm finished with him: he'll look like fucking Mel Gibson's Jesus! FUCK! FUCK, FUCK! FUCK!

Julius

Why don't I get something in? A man cannot live on Jaffa Cakes alone, obviously. I've tried.

Adam Kenyon

What's the news, just –

Angela Heaney

What?

Adam Kenyon

Just tell me what the fucking news is and I'll put it on the front page. It's not like we're The Independent, we can't just stick a headline saying 'Cruelty' and then stick a picture of a dolphin or a whale underneath it. I mean, that's just fucking cheating, that's rubbish.

Angela Heaney

Well, what I'm hearing is Ben Swain.

Adam Kenyon

Ben Swain?

Angela Heaney

Yeah.

Adam Kenyon

Right, I literally don't know who he is. I'm not being stupid or anything, but I physically don't know who Ben Swain is. He could be the leader of the Special Boat Squadron –

Angela Heaney

Service.

Adam Kenyon

The Special Boat Service or whatever it's fucking called, and this could be a massive coup.

Angela Heaney

Ben Swain is what I'm hearing.

Jamie

Nicholson! NICHOLSON! The immigration shit. It was you, wasn't it? You mimsy bastard Quisling leak fuck!

Julius

Sorry, what are you talking about?

Jamie

Yeah yeah yeah, you will be sorry, you inflatable cock. You fucking sold us out, didn't you? DENY IT!

Julius

Well, James, I can't deny something until I have the actual charge presented to me –

Jamie

(impersonating Julius) 'Oh oh oh, the actual charge.' (normal voice) You mean apart from the charge you're gonna get when I clamp jump leads to your baldy bollocks? Okay, okay, okay! You, Julius Nicholson, being of sound mind, but with a body that looks like a giant sex toy, did knowingly do us up the shithole, by passing confidential information to the enemy! And I am gonna have your guts as a skipping rope, and your lungs sun-dried and turned into a little fucking waistcoat!

Julius

James, technically it was not a leak, because firstly it's not confidential infor–

Malcolm

Eat that prawn. Eat that fucking prawn.

Julius

I'm not eating prawns, Malcolm, I'm on – I'm just telling you –

Malcolm

Eat that prawn. (throws a slice of pizza at Julius) Eat a bit of fucking pizza.

Julius

Don't be stupid. Malcolm –

Malcolm

Eat another prawn. (throws a prawn)

Julius

Stop it!

Malcolm

(throws more food) Have some fucking chow mein!

Julius

Malcolm –

Jamie

Here, stuff it in his fucking head! Stuff it in his big baby head!

Malcolm

(to Ollie, who has just returned with some cheese) Get that fucking cheese over there!

Jamie

EAT THE CHEESE!

Julius

I don't want the cheese, stop it!

Glenn

Go on, have some!

Jamie

(throwing food at Julius) EAT THE CHEESE! EAT THE FUC–

Julius

(being pelted by Malcolm and Ollie) This isn't funny, this is an expensive suit! James, just –

Jamie

Fuck!

Julius

What the fuck are you doing, mate? (runs out of the door)

Malcolm

Hey hey hey, right!

Jamie

EAT THE FUCKING CHEESE! (chasing after Julius) EAT THE CHEESE, NICHOLSON!