Terri (on the phone): I think we're just playing it in the wrong key. It's when we go, (sings at a low pitch) 'Red and yellow and blue' –
What's she talking about?
Oh. She's putting on her annual production of Joseph, in Hemel Hempstead. She doesn't license it ever because she considers Joseph to be public domain.
But I need to just pitch it a little higher. More like, (sings at a much higher pitch) 'Red and yellow and blue and green' –
She's directing it. And starring.
Well, one assumes with a beard. Maybe she'll just let herself go for a couple of weeks, see what happens.
(Malcolm Tucker and Cal Richards are giving pre-election pep talks to their respective parties)
I know what people say to you, right? They say: 'We hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.' Everybody hates you. So fucking what? Some people, they just fucking love to hate. Some people, they'd fucking walk around the fucking Garden of Eden fucking moaning about the lack of fucking mobile reception. These are the kind of fucks who watched Mandela – fucking Nelson Mandela – walk to freedom, and said 'Is Diagnosis: Murder not on the other side?' So we fucking forget about them.
This government has run this country into the ground. This used to be a green and pleasant land, now it's the colour of the fucking BBC Weather map. It looks like anaemic dogshit.
JB, Cal Richards, and their hordes of fucking robots, they're coming over the hill, towards us! And all you have got to do is this: bend down, pick up any fucking weapon you can, and twat the fuckery out of them –
This government is maimed, but it can't be shamed. It will. Be. FUCKED!
Let's get out there, and let's fucking kill them, LET'S SET FIRE TO TEARS! Let's go! (all applaud and cheer) Come on! Let's go, yes!
Phil (to Emma): What do we do?
(on an office phone) What do I call for an outside line?
That was great, wasn't it?
Is it 9, 'cause that's what it is everywhere else?
(to an anonymous Opposition member of staff) Stop saying "Abingdon" to me, I want a fucking chocolate biscuit!
Yeah, for the first time in a decade, I can feel the old dog twitching to life.
Phil (Chinese accent): 'So sorry me! This election give me an erection.'
The old dog I was referring to was me.
(All DoSAC staff are leaving because of the election)
See you, Nicola! (to herself) Or not.
(deleted scene)
Is this good, all this panic? I haven't seen Snakes on a Plane, but I imagine this is pretty much how people would react on finding their plane was brimming with snakes.
Except Malcolm is the snakes, isn't he? I mean, this is more Snakes Not on a Plane.(deleted scene)
Malcolm (walking into Steve's office): Steve! Look! I've made an unexpected comeback. Like Noel Edmonds or secondary cancer.
SFSteve Fleming
Don't get any ideas, Malcolm. I can cut you loose any time I like; I can toss you aside like an unwanted panettone, which, I warn you, is most panettones.(deleted scene)
Cal Richards (giving his pre-election pep talk): Remember, this government is like going out with Madonna: at first you think, 'Result'; now we wake up every morning to see an increasingly crazed, craggy-faced egomaniac who jumps on every fucking passing bandwagon.(deleted scene)
Terri (leaving an answerphone message): If you have any political enquiries, at any time, 24 hours a day, Oliver Reeder and Glenn Cullen will take –
24 hours a day? Fuck off. No, we're political advisors, we're not fucking prostitutes.
Well, you've spoilt it now.
