(Malcolm and Ben, and separately Ollie and Helen, are watching Nicola at the Remembrance Sunday ceremony on TV)
You're right, she can't fucking walk.
BenI mean, should we get a pony to challenge her?
It's not a fucking pony, it's a fucking foal.
Ben
Sorry.
I don't understand how you can get that wrong.
It's this: (demonstrates) de-de-clunk!
She is officially a Ceno-twat.
Fabulous work, sister. Bury her in a grave. The Unknown Leader.
I can't watch: I feel a bit sick.
I just hope there is no afterlife, because if people fought and died for this, it is going to seem even more ridiculously futile.
Ben (to Malcolm): Why d'you know so much about horses, anyway? I thought you were raised by wolves.
(deleted scene)
(during the Quiet Batpeople brainstorming)
Wombles, Honest Wombles, Everyday Wombles?
Right, OK, obviously, you know, we're not gonna block anything 'cause this is a think-thoughting session, erm –
Sorry, I've just got to take a call.
Think-thoughting, Helen, is what we call, in the real world, thinking. It's the same. Am I say-speaking out of turn? Have I not understood-comprehended you?
I don't know, I tuned you out a bit.(deleted scene)
Hiya, I thought you were bollocking Dan Miller.
Oh, I am. (to the empty chair next to him) Look at you! You bourgeois, fucking side-parted twat, you flap that bammed-up nutcrease of yours again, and I will fuck you so deep, that if you're not drowned in the blizzard of jizz, your rectum will become the biggest fucking indoor venue in fucking Europe.
Malcolm (to Ollie): This is monkey typewriter stuff. There's not even a fucking infinite amount of monkeys with an infinite amount of time with an infinite amount of typewriters that'll produce the words, 'Nicola Murray, PM'.(deleted scene)
Ben
How do you know so much about horses, anyway? I thought you were raised by wolves.
I don't know anything about horses, apart from that a grown-up one's a fucking horse and a baby one's a foal. And why are you eating my biscuits?
Ben
I don't know, I found them on here. There's one left.
Ben
It's like a toilet seat, isn't it? I mean, it's not, it's lovely.
What size of a wreath would you need for a nuclear war?
Ben
There wouldn't be anyone left to put it on the Cenotaph, would there? It'd be carried along by cockroaches or whatever it is they say'll survive.
Ben (to two colleagues): Yeah, it's a Nigella recipe, you sort of do it with gammon and Coca-Cola. That's fantastic.
Ah, the hairless Hagrid. I need a private word.
Ben
Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of something.
Malcolm (to Ben's colleagues): I need you lot to make like a tree and go fuck yourselves.
Ben
Yeah, we'll pick this up later.
Malcolm (seeing Ben's empty desk): Oh I'm sorry, I can come back if you're – I didn't realise you were so fucking busy.
Ben
Well, I could do some work, but you know what, we're still gonna lose.
Hey hey hey. Don't be so grim, you big quim. You are the future of this party, yeah? You are the next generation.
Ben
And you're in its past, I mean – I don't really know why you're still here, Malcolm.
I just want to see this thing turn around, right? I can't leave while we're getting fucked in the polls, and we're getting fucked consistently and repeatedly like a horse in the fucking Hebrides.
Ben
All very original observations, Malcolm MacIntucker, but what's the solution?
Ben
Oh, right.
Ben
And challenge her for the leadership?
Ah, no. No, that would be petty and self-interested. No. You are doing this for the greater good of the party. As Deputy Leader, Dan Miller will take over, and he can be anointed at a later date.
Ben
So, you want me to stick my cock in a fan so that Dan Miller can become the next Prime Minister? Well fuck you very much, Malcolm. What do I get out of this?
I would not ask you to do this for nothing, would I?
Ben
You might.
I'm asking you, because you're a big fucking beast. Which is why, when you come back, it'll be as Foreign Secretary.
Ben
And you mean Foreign Secretary, that isn't code for, like, Northern Ireland, I'm not fucking going there.
This is the proper Foreign Secretary, with all the perks. Fuck-off breakfasts at Dubai hotels. Tours of secret Russian sex yachts.
Ben
All right! All right, I'll do it. And you know what? I'd have done it for a lot less.
Ben
I'd have done it just to see the look on Nicola's face.
Oh. I've underestimated you.
Ben
(quite proud of himself) You have been out-maneuvered by a player. It happens.
Yeah, well...didn't used to.
Nicola (returning to her seat): Right, wee mission accomplished.
Actually, having an accurate wee into a moving train toilet would make a great round on The Cube with Phillip Schofield.Glenn (entering the toilet): Ollie, come on, this is my shittiest lunch break I've had since Stewart took us all out for sushi.
Patience, old man, and you can watch the fuckpuppet master at work now. (calls Ben) Ben Swain! Benign tumour, Bental illness!
Ben
Ol– Oliver Cyst, Olivetti – Spaghet– I don't really have time for chit-chat, Ollie.
Are you resigning, mate, are you dropping the R-bomb? Benola Gay? I'm not just, er, talking about the rumours.
Ben
Let's just say it is time to prepare the hidey-hole for Madame Hussein, her reign of error is over.
And out of interest, Ben, what would it take to stop you from resigning?
Ben
Why, what's Nicola offering?
Ben
All right. Shadow Chancellor.
(Ollie laughs. Glenn barely stops himself from doing so as well.)
Ah, you still got it, Benny.
Ben
I'm serious, stop fucking laughing.
All right, I'll call you back. (hangs up)
This is a fucking joke! Ben Swain, Chancellor? He goes into debt every time he passes a sweet shop!
Malcolm (entering Ben's office): Oh, here she is. Pippa Middleton, trying to steal the limelight with your peachy little arse. Right, where are we?
Well, I've just offered Ben here Deputy Leadership of the party.
Ben
I don't want it. I want Chancellor.
Malcolm (surprised): Chancellor? Of the United Kingdom?
Ben
Yeah, it's what Nicola's offering me.
Are you sure about this Ben, how's your economics?
Ben
Good, strong.
What, you're a PPE-er guy?
Ben
No, History of Art, but –
Oh right, so you are confident that one day you will be able to shepherd this country out of one of the darkest economic periods in its entire fucking art history?
Ben
Look, at the moment, I hold all the cards, including the card that tells you how to play, so – so it's over. The fat lady's singing.
No she's not. The fat man from the GoCompare adverts is talking.
Ben
This is tiger-by-the-tail time and I'm loving it, loving it, loving it!
Oh, in that case you leave me no option, Ben, I'm gonna have to say yes.
Ben
Oh, Chumba-fucking-wamba! Then I resign on the dotted line.
Can you give us a minute, Ben, please? Dan and I need to talk some strategy.
Ben
Might head in the direction of confection; any snack-age, anyone?
(Ben leaves)
No, of course it's not for real, Malcolm. I'm offering him Chancellor, but I might as well be offering him bass player in The Wurzels, because that burly haemorrhoid's getting nowhere near any fucking cabinet of mine.
Good, so how are you gonna shaft him?
That's not my problem. That's your problem, Malcolm.
Right, so this is a little test, is it, you're weighing my balls?
(Dan nods and smiles.)
Oh, he'll be back. Like the shit Terminator. (Ben returns) There he is.
Ben
I hereby tweet, 'I have resigned. More to follow.' Didn't seem that momentous.
How many followers have you got?
Ben
612, or thereabouts.
Christ, well let's hope it gets retweeted, otherwise you might as well just whisper it to a fucking dead tramp.
(Ben is preparing for his big announcement, but first, Malcolm wants to show Ben something on his cell phone.)
These phones are amazing, aren't they? I've got an application here that can throw grenades into people's dreams.
Ben
So, how do I look?
Is that your suit with the reinforced trouser arse on it, yeah?
Ben
Ha, very funny. What, a joke that I'm going to shit myself?
No, it's because you're gonna need it for the 10 years you're gonna be sitting on the back benches. The e-mail trail about the key worker housing clearly shows that you, Benjamin Trevor Swain, were gleefully in favor of it, just like Nicola.
Ben
You've...Um...
There you go. Break a leg, love. And your neck and your wrist. It doesn't really matter.
The Thick Of It · 395 quotes
