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.
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