[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.]
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