All right now, listen up, my children of a lesser god, you will find a file marked 'Snap Election Drill' on the J drive. And if you don't know how to access the J drive, hand your pass in at reception, go and buy some silver body paint, and pretend to be a robot on the South Bank. Fly my pretties, fly!
(Suddenly, Phil's cell phone rings.)
Stewart! Stewart, The Fucker's downstairs.
No, no, no. He's not downstairs, but if he were, I'd know about it, and if I knew about it, I would have vetoed it. Okay?
He is, and he is complete poison.
Ah, The Fucker! (to Stewart) And you thought he was just a myth created to frighten naughty MPs into eating all their truffles and swan.
Watch my lips. Cal Richards is not here.
(But Cal Richards IS there...and he's headed their way.)
Good to see you. I didn't know about this. JB didn't say anything.
Hello, everyone. I just wanted it to be a surprise.
(Cal shakes hands with Peter, Phil and Emma while he's talking to Stewart.)
Yeah, why are you...why are you here?
Well, mate, I just thought I'd check in with the intellectual powerhouse of the party. That's all. That's why I'm here.
Right. Well, if you want to step in the office, yeah, I'll dismiss the children and we can talk.
No. 'Cause I'm kidding, aren't I? No, because I've come here to tell you that you're fucking sacked.
(thrilled) Halle-bloody-lujah!
(A look of doom comes over Stewart's face...)
Should I escort Stewart from the building, then, Cal?
Philip, Don't be such a fucking turncoat.
Yes, Philip, excellent idea. And while you're there, could you do me another favour, please? Could you find a hostel, go there, and take a fucking overdose of barbiturates?
(Emma chuckles at Cal's request.)
Yeah, right. Okay, well, I'm not fired. You can't fire me, Cal, so shall we just cut to the chase? Hmm?
(pretending to talk like a baby) "Aw, you can't fire me, Cal, 'cause you're..." Gotcha! I'm kidding. Of course you're not fired. Look at your face.
(smiling, but not amused) Funny.
I'm sensing a change in management styles here from touchy-feely to smashy-testes.
No, okay, joking aside, I'm just an impartial observer. Quite partial, obviously. So, uh, take it away, Captain Mainwaring.
(to the crowd) All right, folks, listen up. We have three key targets when we are smart-bombing our beloved PM and they are: The deficit, unemployment, lack of leadership. Get onto the J drive, you'll find key...
(And then suddenly -- Cal EXPLODES!)
FUCK, THAT IS BRILLIANT!! THAT IS INSPIRED! WHAT SAUCE! GET IN! IT'S THE ECONOMY, STEWPOT! Fuck, what I REALLY need to do is to shoot you all in the back of the head! (imitating a gun) FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! But I can't, because it's illegal!
(Then, Cal calms back down again.)
Okay, I'd like a small cappuccino, two extra shots, please. I think we've got a long night ahead of us. (to Stewart) Come on!
(to Cal) I'm coming. (to Peter) Better the devil you know, huh?
(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?
(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.
(At the start of this episode, Peter Mannion is headed to the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship -- DoSAC, for short. He is talking on his cell phone to his wife. Today's their wedding anniversary.)
No, of course I know it's our anniversary. What do you think the card was for? (Peter's wife said something to him.) I left it on the kitchen table.
(Peter's wife may not have seen the card.)
Oh, right. My bad, as they say.
You're a very tidy man, aren't you?
'There's no happiness without order.' It's a Nazi quote, but nonetheless stands the test of time.
(We now find out that Peter has a partner at DoSAC in the "Coalition Government.")
(still on his cell phone with his wife.) Well, I can't leave before my Coalition partner. Fergus, I told you. (And now, poor Peter's cranky.) Well, I say partner. He's Lewis, I'm Morse.
(Peter's partner at DoSAC is Junior MP Fergus Williams. Fergus and his advisor, Adam Kenyon, are proudly getting ready to launch a policy they created, called Silicon Playgrounds.)
I hate to ask, but I've got to ask. Are you ready for today, Fergus?
Silicon Playgrounds are -- is -- go.
I just hope Mannion can keep his baccy-stained fingers out of it.
Don't worry about Mannion. He's allergic to the 21st century.
Yeah, he didn't like the 20th much and the 19th makes him fart papyrus.
(at Peter's office door) Ah, Peter. I'm expecting great things!
Laters, legislators. (leaves)
Peter (looking at Fergus's policy): The only way this policy launch could be worse is if I understood the bloody thing.
Glenn (walking in with a file which he dumps on Phil): Right, I'm gonna put the old tea-cauldron on! Anybody fancy a brew?
(They all ignore him. During Emma's line, he gives up and leaves.)
Peter, risk of sounding like your mum: time for school. You need to get to this meeting.
I hate schoolchildren, they're volatile and stupid and they haven't got the vote. Might as well be talking to fucking geese.
Well, you know the school's only 10 minutes from your house. You could pop round for a late lunch.
Not much of a celebration. "Hello, darling, make me a Cup-a-Soup." Oh, now, I need a thoughtful, very personal present for Tina. Any ideas?
Erm, what about a sexy undergarment?
(disappointed in Phil's suggestion) No.
Perfume. What perfume does she wear?
No idea. Expensive, smells a bit of lemons.
Peter, before you go, I-I do really need a comment, I'm sorry, on this Tickel protest, please.
OK: 'As we enter the third week, I find Mr. Tickle's attention-seeking tent-based twattery even more annoying than weeks one and two.'
Really? Oh then by implication you know what you can say, so say that instead.
(Terri is being called to see Fergus and Adam in Fergus's office.)
Just to keep you up to speed, Terri, we are going to do a companion launch for Digital Playgrounds tonight at the learning centre at 7 o'clock, all right?
And we just need you to pop a press pack in the Coverley microwave and let us know when you've pinged.
Yes, sorry. I don't think I'll be able to get that cleared before 6:00, so that's effectively tomorrow, isn't it?
Sorry, Terri, we don't need clearance. We're not covering a Beatles track, we're the fucking Government.
Yes, I'm sorry, but I do need to get that through Number 10 before I can do anything.
Uh, was Terri actually in the meeting earlier, Adam?
Yeah, she was, Fergus. I know she was there because I heard her humming the theme tune to Call the Midwife.
Yes, well, Stewart was very clear about this protocol. It's about the only thing he ever has been clear about.
The policy has been agreed. This is just an additional publicity push.
Adam, I'm sorry if you think I'm being obstructive, but I cannot -- and I will not -- do ask you ask.
Well you can't stop me, Terri! OK? I want you to know, YOU CANNOT WIN, NURSE RATCHED, because this is my moment! Now, you like musicals: well this is "Tonight" from West Side Story, yeah? And I'm going to bring the bloody house down, so you can't "Rain on my Parade", Funny Girl. Why don't you go and have a lie-down and a Hobnob while we run the fucking country, all right?
(Fergus is perplexed, Adam is stunned, and Terri gets up to leave...)
(to Fergus) Thank you, minister.
(Peter, Phil, and Emma are in the car to the policy launch)
Does he understand the policy? Forgive my concern, but it's a bit like asking if a dog can grasp the concept of Norway.
(on the phone to Emma) We have a question: does he understand the – Oh, she's hung up! Ever the charmless minor royal.
And I keep a straight face, do I, when I say to a room full of frogspawn, 'Upload your future'?
You know, that sounds great! No pronunciation traps. 'Cause you know what happened to the Chancellor, don't you, at the BRITs? 'Tinny' Tempah?
Well, it could have been worse, I heard he opened his stag do speech with 'my niggaz'.
(Peter is at the school making his speech...I Call App Britain!)
Why is it that Silicon Valley is in America when we have so many net-savvy tech-heads here? They may have the silicon chip, but we have the silicon chap. And of course, chapesses. Er, and we want you to design game apps for use in the classroom.
Sorry, sorry to interrupt: erm, it's not game apps, we're actually looking for educational apps.
Er, of course. That's why I'm here to say: I call you up. App. I, I Call App Britain. Yes. And everyone will benefit, not financially, er, not cash in hand, of course: all profits will be stored as part of a digital dividend, which –
RRaj
'Scuse me, are you saying that if I wrote an app I wouldn't get any money for it? I would be working for free?
If you don't mind we'll keep the Q&A to the end. What I wanted to emphasise –
CCharlotte
Sorry, er, why can't you just answer him now?
CCharlotte
Well, the other lady was allowed to interrupt.
Yes, but she's my lady. (everyone laughs except Emma) Er, what was your question again?
RRaj
Why won't we profit from this?
Oh, but you would! Er, maybe I didn't explain it properly. What's your name?
Well, er, Rajesh Raj – (the students laugh) Oh, right. (chuckles) Well, er, what I, what I wanted to say is that, that you would, er, profit, that any profits you made would be offset against tuition fees –
CCharlotte
Sorry, we don't believe in tuition fees.
Oh, well, that's an easier one.
(to Phil) Fuck me, I feel like I've just been pushed out of a plane.
RRaj
I make apps. I sell them through Apple and I get paid for it.
Good for you, Ra– er, good for you, but with us, you let us license it as part of the Networked Nation policy. We all put in, you see –
RRaj
What do you put into the Networked Nation?
Well, er, I am – a Minister.
RRaj
But what do you actually do?
I take the, the – science that, that you made earlier, and I – apply it, in – scenarios that are – cost-effective.
(And now, Peter finds himself being confronted by a big crowd of reporters and journalists -- outside his own home!)
FRFemale Reporter #1
Minister, why are you at home in the middle of a working day?
Um, it's-it's my 30th anniversary and I popped home for lunch after the Silicon Playgrounds launch, which is literally around the corner, and I'll be staying late to make up for it.
FRFemale Reporter #1
Are you turning schools into teenage sweatshops?
I-I'm sorry if this is proving a complex idea. Pupils will receive a digital dividend towards their higher education fees.
FRFemale Reporter #2
The dividend is optional, though, you can get cash instead?
No, you can't, I'm sorry...
FRFemale Reporter #2
You can according to your Junior Minister.
MRMale Reporter
Minister, do you think you came across this morning as a "fibre-optic Fagan?"
That's a ridiculous phrase.
MRMale Reporter
Well, that, again, is a quote from your Junior Minister.
(Peter's socially embarrassing predicament continues...)
FRFemale Reporter #1
Minister, is, um, that a bottle of champagne?
MRMale Reporter
Drinking on the job, minister?
It's a half bottle. Um, as I said, it is my anniversary and I have just recycled it. Er, thank you. Bye.
(Peter gets into his car.)
(to his driver) Run those fuckers over. Fifty quid for every one you maim.
(shouting at Fergus on his return to DoSAC) Thanks a fucking bunch, mate! I couldn't have looked more of a twat, unless I'd announced it dressed as a mermaid with scallops on my tits!
Look, I'm angry, too, Peter. I spent a lot of time on that policy that you just raped in a ditch.
Well, it was your stupid idea in the first place.
What are your ideas, Peter? Come on, we'd all love to hear them! A public information film on the best wine to have with fish? A butler on every street corner?
This is a long game, Fergus. And I've been around a lot longer than you, Fergus, and I'll still be here when they rip your name off your door and turn your office back into something useful, like a spare toilet!
(Stewart, from out of nowhere, enters the fight.)
BOTH OF YOU DESIST! You have caused me to raise my voice and I do not like it. I reserve this level of anger for when I'm flying Ryanair. Peter's Palace! NOW!
(to Peter) Drinking champagne in the middle of the day during a recession. Who do you think you are, P. Diddy?
It was a half-bottle, on my thirtieth anniversary, and I was recycling it; at least give me credit for that!
Oh right, no, sorry Peter, yeah, I take it all back. About as strong a defence as 'the fertiliser in my homemade bomb was organic.' What have you got planned for this evening, dancing girls on a yacht?
Oh, good, the anniversary present your wife's been dreaming of. (to Fergus) And Fergus, what about you?
Well, I'm launching Silicon Playgrounds, properly this time, tonight at a learning centre.
Yeah, something you didn't clear through me. According to Terri Coverley, you announced this before Peter took his daily "gaffe dump." What was the word I used this morning?
Oh, you used a lot of words this morning, it was like a fucking Will Self lecture.
What was the word I used?
BOOM! So you will go to the learning centre where you will re-explain Silicon Playgrounds with Peter, who will make an abject grovelling apology for being both a digi-tard and an elderly racist!
So first you take the policy away from me for Peter to screw up, then you take salvaging the policy away from me for Peter to screw up! Good, yeah, that's just great!
I'm bored of this! I'm going for a Twix! (leaves)
