TV show quotes
[Hugh has just asked Terri which policy idea she prefers: Glenn's or Ollie's?]
It's not my role to have a preference. I sell the apples. If you want me to sell the apples, I'll sell the apples. And if you want me to sell the oranges, then I'll go and tell people the apples? "The apples are shit, Ollie. They're shit." I'll say, "Go on! Check out our oranges!"
And you're against it?
It'll die on its arse! 'My grandma was mugged by some ferret-faced teenager with a neck tattoo, what are you gonna do about it?' 'Teach him to play the bassoon.' It is, as my dear old mother would have said, double wank and shit chips.
Well, my guts still say no.
Yeah, well substantial as they are, they've been outvoted.
Malcolm, I know you were very keen on Terri's appointment but, um –
She's shit.
Well, I wouldn't go that far.
She's a box-ticker, Hugh. She can't think outside the box.
No, in fact she's built a box inside the actual box and she's doing her thinking inside that box.
Exactly, I like that.
I'm sorry, I'm so tired, Malcolm.
No, that's good.
I have so much stuff to read and think about.
Anyway, these focus groups, they're absolutely useless.
Oh, so it's useless to ask people what they think, is it? It's useless to ask people's opinions before we formulate a policy? It's useless?!
Look, there's no point in asking people what they think. They either don't know what they think or they think that you should bring back hanging for traffic wardens. Or they just think what every right-minded thinking person would think, and that's just common sense!
Oh, yeah yeah yeah, oh yeah, "I'm Geoff Average, and I think the same as everybody else cos I'm Mr Average Normal Bloke and everybody thinks like me cos I work in IT, and on the weekends I pop a few pills and do a bit of DJ-ing, y'know, spare cash cos I'm a single mum and I'm a member of the National Trust, I enjoy any sports on TV, anything with Colin Firth, I enjoy domestic violence and sun-dried fucking...karaoke." Not everybody is the same, Glenn! People can surprise you!
Was that good-natured joshing?
[Malcolm is still working late at night in his office, eating a piece of fruit, when his cell phone rings.]
[answering the call] Tucker.
Malcolm, uh...hope I didn't wake you up.
[spitting] Hewitt.
Yeah, I'm doing a piece this Sunday, a big piece on focus groups. It's sort of inspired by your latest policy disaster. I'm gonna be concentrating on how your man Abbot can't do a single thing without focus groups.
[clearly unmoved] I'm shaking with fear.
Yeah, well, that's sexual jealousy.
You're so very very witty. Pity none of it ever makes it into your columns.
Listen, I'd love to spend the rest of the evening listening to you, but I've got better things to do.
Fuck off back to your match reports, you twat!
How fucked am I?
Well, you look awful, you look terrible. I mean, you often look quite bad, but...
I mean, in terms of negative publicity. On the fuckometer, where am I?
Oh, 12.
Yeah. 12, say.
Out of what?
Er... 50.
Oh. Mine was out of ten.
Right, [to Glenn] so I'm 24% fucked according to you, [to Ollie] but according to you I'm 120% fucked?
Um, yeah, I didn't...
[But before Ollie can finish his thought, Terri enters the office.]
[to Terri] Terri, have you got anything for us?
Well, I can't ask them to drop the piece. It would make us look pathetic.
Terri, I don't mean to come across all Mr. Gradgrind, but this is your job, isn't it? Sorting out the press? This is what you do for a living?
This is Malcolm's problem, anyway. He's the one who took it over. It's him that spun that...
[Before Terri can finish her point, Malcolm enters the room and takes charge.]
All right, listen up, this is what we're gonna do. I'm bringing forward Hugh's interview with Angela to this afternoon.
[to Malcolm] Morning, Malcolm.
It goes out as a spoiler tomorrow morning. That way, we can get our side of the story across and also piss all over Simon Hewitt's corn flakes, sadly only metaphorically, yeah? Right, okay. Ollie, call Heaney. Terri, get on to her editor. Glenn, book her room. Bodie, Doyle, you go round the back.
[The other 4 are confused by Malcolm.]
At times of stress, I make jokes!
[Glenn, Terri and Ollie go about their business.]
[to Malcolm] Right, um...What do I do?
Sit down in front of the TV with me. You're gonna watch that Zeitgeist tape now.
[Malcolm and Hugh are in Hugh's office watching a recording of The Bill. Hugh is almost dozing off, when all of a sudden...he wakes up to see Mary, the Focus Group Superstar, in the show!]
Oh, shit.
Yeah, I know, but people watch it. This gets 6,000,000.
Oh, shit.
What?
She's an actress.
Who?
Mary, from the focus group, she's an actress.
Oh, relax, that doesn't matter. These focus groups, they do it all the time. If they're a bit short on numbers, they bung in a couple of actors. It doesn't matter because it's a focus group - key word, "group."
[Hugh's trying to find a solution to his problem...]
Ooh, I've just remembered. Um...can you just...
Should I pause it?
If you could pause it for a second, I'll be...I'm sorry, I'll just be back in a sec.
[Hugh rushes to get help from Glenn. Hugh has to whisper to Glenn so Malcolm doesn't hear anything.]
Glenn?
What?
I've got a bit of a problem. You remember Mary from the focus group?
What, Miss, uh, Immaculate Bloody Conception?
She's an actress.
What do you mean?
Well, I mean she's – No, there's no clearer way of saying it, she's an actress.
Are you sure?
I've just seen her, she's in The fucking Bill!
Oh, Jesus! Look, this doesn't necessarily have to be a total fucking disaster.
Oh, I think it does, because she wasn't for real, she's not really, uh, a stay-at-home Middle England housewife, she-she's just playing a part, so what she said wasn't, you know –
[Hugh and Glenn walk past Terri, who is on the phone.]
Yes. Yeah, I do know.
What, who said what wasn't what?
[whispering to Terri] We are organising focus groups to listen to the opinions of ordinary people, except they're not ordinary people! They're fucking actors, so they're not technically people at all!
[Glenn and Hugh go to Ollie's desk.]
[on the phone]' Can I get back to you?
[to Glenn] What is it?
Your fucking legend is a fucking actress!
Well, 'cause the focus group companies do it all the time. If they can't cobble together, you know, the right cross-section, they call a casting agency –
Dial-an-opinion, is it? 'Send me three liberals, two fucking mavericks and a racist.' Brilliant, Ollie! Brilliant!
[whispering] We've based the whole thing on her! Just her! Her alone!
[to Ollie] Don't you see? Why didn't you run it past me for once?
[Hugh storms off towards a nearby cupboard.]
[still whispering] Shit! Shit!
[Glenn, Ollie and Terri continue whispering argumentatively.]
It's not real!
I thought I recognized her. You know, she was in Midsomer Murders.
Why didn't you say anything?
I saw her in Midsomer Murders. I thought she might've had a twin or something.
What a stupid thing to...
[While Glenn, Terri and Ollie continue arguing, Hugh sulks silently in the cupboard.]
Fuck! Fuck!
[But as soon as Hugh starts banging things and making noise, somebody opens the cupboard door: It's Malcolm...and he's not happy.]
You said 'she.'
Yes.
Come out of the cupboard, Hugh.
No.
[Malcolm enters the cupboard.]
Hugh, we have to sort this out. When I asked you about the focus group –
Yeah.
– you said 'she' loved it.
We gave her a one-on-one.
Why?
She's Middle England.
So Middle England is a big fucking field, with one woman standing in it?
Do you think Hewitt will find out?
OF COURSE HE FUCKING WILL, SHE'S HIS MOLE! THAT'S WHY HE'S GOT A PIECE IN THE PAPER TOMORROW!
[Malcolm leaves the cupboard, with Hugh right behind him.]
[to Glenn, Ollie, Terri and Hugh] We've got to shut this down now, right? I want this leaked to Angela Heaney. It's damage control, OK? We put out the story the way we want it, before Hewitt fucks us up the bugle! Get onto it, now!
[Hugh, Glenn and Ollie are trying to defend themselves. Terri's on the phone trying to contact Angela Heaney.]
I didn't know that she's an actress!
No, exactly! We, we've been lied to! We've been abused! We are the victims of abuse!
[holding the phone] Ollie?
Shut up!
Can you call her?
Yes, I'll call her!
[Malcolm re-enters the picture.]
[to Hugh] How could I know you are a broken vase?
What the fuck are you talking about?
You're a broken vase!
How do I know she's an actress? I never watch television! That's why you have to give me a stupid tape!
[Hugh comes up with a plan...]
Listen, we're gonna get her in, we're gonna talk to her, she'll meet us...I will talk to her because I'm good with people. She can help us, she'll see our point of view, we'll be fine.
Well, I hope so. I hope that's what gonna happen.
Or we kill her.
[Later that night, Malcolm, Hugh, Glenn and Ollie are talking to Mary. They're discussing what's going to happen because of her being an actress in a focus group.]
[to Mary] Do you just want to think about what is going to happen tomorrow?
Because tomorrow, you are gonna find the press all over you –
In a good way?
No, not in a good way at all, I can tell you –
You know that film Notting Hill, have you seen that?
She's probably fucking in it.
You know that bit where the guy opens the door –
What is this?
– and there's like millions of journalists and hacks and photographers and all flashbulbs are going off? In about four hours time, that's gonna be you, darling: they're gonna be all over you like fucking cockroaches.
Hugh [trying to comfort Mary]: It's OK, it's OK.
No no no no no no no no, it's NOT OK! It's not gonna be OK, and I'll tell you why: Because you're fair game. So I hope your knickers are clean. Because every seat-sniffing little shitbag that's ever filed a byline is gonna be questioning you. 'Cause now, it's in the fucking public interest, isn't it? And they're gonna hit you with any shit they can find and you're gonna be spread out there in front of them like a trollop in the stocks!
I still don't really understand what's going on.
We can hold those dogs back, right?
What do you mean?
We can get you a nice journalist, yeah?
Yes, exactly.
We can get you a nice young journalist, Angela Heaney...and maybe you...maybe you, I mean I don't know what shit that he made you sign, but whatever it was, it was bullshit. Maybe if you just say that, you know, uh, you were misquoted and also that Simon Hewitt's a prick, right? If you just said that...
Who?
Yeah, the journalist that you told your story to.
I, I didn't...I didn't talk to any journalist.
You spoke to Simon Hewitt.
No, I...
You fucking spoke to Simon Hewitt, he's a fat guy with a tiny little dick the size of a bookie's biro. You fucking spoke to him.
[getting mad] I'd like to go now!
[Now, ALL the guys are shouting!]
Did you speak to Simon Hewitt?
No! I don't even know...
You didn't speak to him.
She didn't fucking speak to him.
[The guys are starting to realize that Mary's telling the truth.]
I don't know anyone called...Simon...whatever the fuck.
[Malcolm starts yelling under his breath.]
Hewitt.
Hewitt, yeah.
She doesn't even know! [to Malcolm] Malcolm...Fuck's sake!
[talking about Malcolm] What's the matter with him?
Ollie. [Glenn's motioning to Ollie to take Mary out of the room.]
[to Mary] Sorry for anything I said that might have upset you.
[trying to apologize to Mary] Sorry, darling. Sorry, love. Just been crossed lines, darling. Sorry about that...
Will you leave me alone?
[Ollie escorts Mary, who's understandably upset, out of the room.]
FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
She didn't even know!
Fuck him!
That didn't really work, did it?
Is it too late...
[confused and stunned] So can I just get this, this straight, just for my, just for my own sanity...
Listen, if we get on the phone, can we pull the front page?
No. It's too late.
You mean Heaney's piece is gonna go ahead anyway now?
Of course it's gonna fucking go ahead! I mean, I'm good but I can't fucking hold back the tide, can I? Alright, that's it. That's it. I'm going to bed.
Kind of ironic, really...
You're fucking on your own! [Malcolm angrily leaves, slamming the door.]
...because she, she hasn't actually spoken to, to Hewitt, uh...and we've, of our own volition, voluntarily released the story to the, to the press...unnecessarily. Um...Damn.
[to Glenn] Can you wake me in a couple of hours? [Hugh lies down on a sofa] There's no time to go home, I'll just pass myself coming back in.
Did you say we were gonna do a press release?
Yes, erm, "Following a successful report stage debate, Secretary of State for Social Affairs, Hugh Abbot, today announced: 'I'm the fucking daddy!'"
How are you, Glenn?
I'm good, thank you – Actually, I just thought you were very heavy-handed with the backbenchers. No need for it in this day and age.
Listen, Glenn. I mean, you know as well as I do, if you're going to make an omelette, you're going to have to have some frank and honest discussion with the eggs. And that's all I was doing.
[Malcolm is in his office on his desk phone, trying to explain himself to a fellow government official.]
I'm not complacent, Tom. [beat] Yeah, I know we did take a hit over the-the-the focus group thing, but it wasn't a big hit. [beat] Oh yeah? Says who? [beat] Oh, the prime minister told you that, huh? Well, get you. [beat] Look, I can only cook with what I've been given. You know, it's like Ready Steady Cook. You give me Hugh Abbot, I'll give you bangers and mash. But if you give me Gerry from the Home Office, well then, I can raise it to fucking risotto and scallops. Do you know what I mean? [beat] Yeah yeah yeah. Ok, ok. Ok, bye.
[looking at Hugh's tie]
What are those? They're little hippos, aren't they?
I don't know what they are actually; I think they're just unidentified amusing creatures.
So what time does this Daily Mail hack get here?
Ten minutes, it's Angela Heaney, didn't I tell you?
So she left the Standard?
That's right, absolutely.
Go on then: ask me some questions.
Right, OK, I'll be Angela Heaney, and I'll ask you some questions.
My God, that's uncanny. Mind you, your tits are a bit bigger than hers.
Is it true that, although this Housing Bill went through Parliament with incredible ease –
Actually, can you just do it as yourself? Sorry, it's just slightly unsettling.
Right, erm – that you'll find a lot of difficulty in the real world?
On the contrary, this Bill is going to do an extraordinary amount of good for an extraordinarily large number of people. Ordinary people, but ordinary people who deserve a little bit of the extraordinary in their lives.
[both start giggling]
Perfect. That's brilliant. That's brilliant!
It's a piece of piss.
There you are, you see.
Go on, ask me something hard.
Where's the Nazi gold, you donkey-shagger?
I'm very pleased you asked me that, Angela, because let me just say right away that this Bill is going to do an extraordinary amount of good for an extraordinarily large –
These quotes come from Wikiquote's The Thick Of It pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
