(Nicola and Ollie arrive at Glenn's hotel room, where Glenn has already arrived and waiting for them.)
Ah, you got past mad conference security, then?
It's bonkers, isn't it? It's like trying to get through Israeli customs wearing a T-shirt saying, "I heart bombing Israel."
I know. I mean, I had to wait for an hour and they practically gave me a cavity search.
Aw, only practically? The sense of disappointment in your voice is almost palpable.
(Nicola notices the size of Glenn's room.)
Oh, your bed's bigger than mine. In fact, your whole room's bigger than mine.
(feeling awkward) Well, um...Do you want it?
"Mr. Lova Lova," full marks for foreplay there, Glenn, straight in.
(reassuring Glenn) Do I want your room? No, honestly. I just thought they'd all be the same, sort of vanilla and monotonous.
(to Glenn) Did you ask them for your special tiny kettle?
(chuckling) It's an electric thimble.
Maybe the room only looks bigger because Glenn's kettle is so tiny!
(The three of them now shift their discussion to more serious and important business.)
(to Glenn) So, has our People's Champion arrived? Have you spoken to her? Is she alright?
Oh no no no no, she should be over it by now. Her husband died, what, 4 months ago? So, I mean, she's beyond the crying phase.
She's clearly not that over it, Glenn. She's leading a public campaign to change building regulations.
Yeah, well, you know, 7 people died when that café collapsed. She's entitled to her 15 minutes. How do you think I should, um... mention the tragedy when I talk to her?
Just, um, "Sorry for your loss, thoughts with you at this very difficult time," yada yada yada, all of, you know... Not-Without the "yada yada yada" bit, obviously.
Am I gonna need some jokes for my speech?
Oh, do you think that's a good idea?
Not collapsing café jokes.
That's a shame, I had a bunch of those. Thought you could call them, uh, the Little Chef Seven. You know, Special of the Day: Crumble!
(John Duggan, a press officer at the conference, arrives at Nicola's room to introduce himself to Nicola and her team.)
Howdy Doody, Minister. I'm John Duggan, your press officer at the conference.
Oh, hello. Nicola Murray, hi.
Ah, well, you know, we wanted to go to Florida but Malcolm 'suggested' we went to Suffolk, and so the kids were miserable, weather was miserable, and Malcolm rang and shouted at me for looking miserable.
I saw the photo of you, in the wellies next to the horse. 'Why the long face?' It was funny. (Nicola looks up, unimpressed) Or not, depending on your perspective. Still, things are looking up: you're in Eastbourne now, which really is the jewel in the crown of our shit seaside resorts. Clacton of the South West, they call it.
(Nicola is trying to get John to push through the press a story about Peter Mannion taking a second holiday, which would put Peter in a negative light.)
John, are you across this thing about, um, Peter Mannion lining up a second holiday?
Um, Mannion, right, yeah.
Peter Mannion, my opposite number, you know?
Okay, good. So you're going to push that for the press for me, yeah? 'Cause I just want to remind people that while he's criticizing us over the recession, he's, you know, swanning around on his friend's massive yacht.
(stammering) Yeah, well, I mean, in-in-in in principle, yeah. But it-it it is conference, so my to-do list is longer than a big willy.
John, without wishing to sound blunt...Um, actually, you know what? Fuck it, let's sound blunt. (bluntly) It is your job.
I'll do what I can. That is a Duggan promise.
(John leaves the room.)
He's not gonna do it, is he?
Absolutely fucking useless.
He's completely not gonna do it.
(John returns just as the group is discussing Julie Price, Nicola's "People's Champion.")
(to John) Glenn says that she's changed her Facebook status to 'single and up for it', (John starts laughing) which I believe is actually why Glenn brought her here in the first place.
Listen, John: There's an outside chance that she may just prefer to meet a human being, so I'm gonna come down with you.
Good idea, you can buy her a coffee, can't you – you could maybe buy her a Collapsuccino.
(laughing) Might bring back memories of her latte husband. As in late husband. We're like Dick and Dom, aren't we? Great chemistry.
Yeah. Except neither one of you are Doms.
(Nicola is in the bathroom -- on her cell phone, though. She's having a chat with Terri, who's driving her car while talking to Nicola.)
(on the phone, happily) Hi, Nicola!
Have you read up about this Peter Mannion second holiday thing on the Dig Deep blog?
No, no, I haven't actually seen that. Where's he off to?
Amalfi. So could you make a few phone calls? See if you can get it some press traction?
I'm sorry, I just can't do that. That's a party political matter. You're gonna have to get John Duggan onto that, 'cause it's his responsibility.
Trouble is, Terri, that the only thing John Duggan is doing here is depriving a village somewhere of a twat.
Ah, yes, I've heard he's about as useless as a chocolate teapot. Although I probably shouldn't say that, sounds a bit racist, doesn't it?
I'm ju-just on the way down to Hastings to see my sister. Poor thing, having some trouble shifting a piano. So what I'm doing is I'm working from home today.
No, you're not working and you're not at home, so as my 16-year old would say, "You are totally busted."
(And make no mistake -- Terri is totally busted! She exhales, knowing Nicola has caught her in a lie.)
(In this scene, Nicola and Ollie are working on her upcoming speech.)
OK, right, what have we got on the workplace gym reward scheme?
Er, fighting obesity is one of the biggest challenges we face, sleepwalking into a crisis, ticking time bomb –
You write almost entirely in generic meaningless buzzwords, don't you?
I could take it more street, if you prefer – 'You is all proper bloaters and it is well gay, biatch' – but, you know, this is the language –
No, but, you know – I just don't want to come across all nanny-state and sort of – 'Death by Chocolate is not a funny name for a pudding, it's a real and genuine concern', you know, I don't want to give the press another opportunity to see me as Mrs. Sour Power Vinegar Tits sucking on a lemon.
Fine, I understand, so we'll sugar-coat it.
Well, leaven it, ideally, with a couple of jokes.
Yeah, all right, no problemo.
(Nicola then gives Ollie a "Well?" look.)
OK, how about: 'We want people to be fit, not fit to burst'?
I'm gonna have to go down the slapstick route, aren't I? Do the speech straight, but dressed as Freddie Starr's Hitler.
(Meanwhile, Malcolm is joking around with journalists from various newspapers, including Angela Heaney from the Daily Mail.)
(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.
Have you seen Rob Holt's blog today?
(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.
I wouldn't take any notice of it. There's-There's nothing in that at all.
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.)
(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."
(In this scene, Nicola meets face-to-face with Julie Price, the "People's Champion" for today's Party Conference.)
(to Julie, warmly) Thank you so much for joining us. What you're doing is really important.
JPJulie Price
(jokingly) Well, hi, I'm your regional photo opportunity for the day.
(laughing) That's--That's not...That's not the way it is. I hope you appreciate that.
JJulie
(smiling) I was just kidding.
(happily) Oh, good, and that's what we need in this room right now!
(to Nicola) Um, Julie's written a speech.
(surprised) Oh, right, for today?
JJulie
Well, basically, I start by kind of doing a tribute to me husband, Jason.
JJulie
And then, we'll move on to the campaign. (Julie sits down) Um, we'll get to the middle section, and I just really want to tell everyone how we're trying to take that bastard to court, you know.
You'll get that opportunity.
JJulie
Me and 6 women, whose husbands have died, we're trying our best to do him. But you know what that bastard did?
JJulie
He sent everyone off the site and he changed the equipment, you know. He changed it to the actual, proper legal equipment. So, obviously, we've got no proof.
(saddened) Yeah. What a-What a bastard. What a-What a bastard.
(Poor Julie's worked herself up...)
JJulie
And -- Oh, God, I'm sweating like a fat lass.
(concerned) Are you-I mean, maybe this isn't a great room for you to be in. We've got to write some stupid jokes about a rich bloke on a yacht.
I mean, that's so trivial...
JJulie
I've got more to tell you.
Yeah, I want to hear it. I want to hear it.
JJulie
(getting up to leave) There's not -- Just a couple of pages.
Yeah, let's-we'll knock off this stuff, and then I'm with you.
Ollie's a lovely guy. He'll look after you.
(Malcolm is on his cell phone again, giving the bad news about the health stats to the Prime Minister himself.)
Yeah, look, I'm sorry, chief. But there's no way that I can spin these health stats. They're fucked. We'll have to put something else in the speech. (beat) Yeah, no, I don't know. Um, well, what about the missus? Can we wheel her out again? Well, she basically has that thing of appearing to be a normal human being. That seems to play well.
(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.
(to Julie) Julie Price...I'm so sorry for your loss. Hey, you're being looked after well enough, yeah?
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?
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.
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.
I think that there is a point in his speech today...
...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...)
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.
Boo-fucking-hoo. Can do and have done.
Yes, but that...What, in two hours, two hours, think of a whole new speech?
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...)
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?
That is the Prime Minister, yes.
JJulie
(to Ollie) Sorry, Ollie. It's nice to meet you.
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.)
(Nicola and Glenn are in her room trying to write her speech...)
"So, joking aside..." Of course, we haven't fucking got those yet.
Whatever they are, right...
(When all of a sudden, Ollie re-enters the room.)
(anxious as hell) Right, right.
"It's now my great pleasure -- " (to Ollie) We're just doing the...
No no no, listen. Um -- listen!
You know when something, well, something bad, but you know when something bad happens and you think it's not as bad as...
Malcolm's commandeered Julie for the PM's speech. We bumped into each other and he...
What do you mean he's commandeered her? You're supposed to be looking after her, for fuck's sake!
No, no, no, no, no, he hasn't. No.
(to Ollie) We can't even fucking trust you to babysit!
(getting defensive) You don't just say no!
What part of "no" don't you understand?
Babysitting isn't a fucking...
(Nicola starts pounding and stomping on a pillow -- pretending that the pillow is Malcolm!)
MALCOLM! FUCKING -- FUCK MALCOLM! FUCK MALCOLM! FUCK MALCOLM! FUCK MALCOLM! FUCK MALCOLM!
Well, um, that was my, uh, initial reaction as well.
Yes, yes I know. Thank you, thank you, FUCK OFF! Thank you!
Right, yes. What do you want us to do?
(Nicola pushes Glenn and Ollie out of the way and runs to the bathroom.)
(to Nicola) Do you want your Rescue Remedy?
No, fuck off! (Nicola takes a few deep breaths...) Get me some ketamine. I want to separate my mind from my body.
Jesus Christ, poor Nicola. I'm going to go and talk to the bastard.
(to Glenn, sarcastically) Yeah, that's right, rip your shirt off! Go on, Braveheart! FREEDOM!
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.
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"?
Um, 'He's, um – works really hard – at planning his holidays'?
(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.
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.
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...
I don't know what he looks like. I don't...
(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?
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.
Yeah, it does fucking matter!
(Nicola then slams the bathroom door.)
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.
Make a phone call! Phone a fucking friend!
(Nicola makes her phone call to...Terri.)
(answering in a sing-song voice) Hello?
Terri, it's-it's Nicola again. We're at DEFCON 1. Or-Or 5, or whichever the really bad one is.
(looking out her car window) You stupid pillock! Oh, boy racers.
(getting desperate) Terri, can you harness that anger and bring it down to Eastbourne, please? I desperately need you to come down and help me.
(replying to Nicola) The problem is this party political problem, because I'm a civil servant and I cannot possibly be seen to have anything to do with a party conference.
(begging) Terri, please, I'm standing in a factory that makes fans, right? And a-a man has walked in with a giant shit-spraying machine, and you happen to be bunking off work and not very far away, so I need you here!
(reluctantly giving in) Listen, I've got a cagoule in the back and I could come incognito with the hood up, if that's gonna help you out.
(looking at her speech) 'Government department – The gov–' Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! How can I learn this when you're still writing it? I feel sick!
No, it's exciting, it's good, it's really good. In fact, I would say: the fact that you're hearing it for the first time when you say it will possibly give it a freshness and a zing, you know –
Yes, you know, this is politics as it is, isn't it? It's The West Wing!
You're not Josh, Ollie, just write the fucking speech.
Come on Nicola, pull yourself together.
(to himself) I fucking am Josh.
Nicola Murray can do this, come on!
Wow, did you just refer to yourself in the second and third person? 'Cause they're both –
Write the fucking speech!
Right, OK, yes, I'm just slightly distracted by all the Nicola Murrays in the room!
