Malcolm (seeing Ben Swain arrive): Oh, here he is. Dead man walking.
(impersonating Ben) 'I, I, I wish you wouldn't keep saying that, I, I, I –' (normal voice) What's your favourite band, blink-182?
That's not a proper cigar: a proper cigar is those big Cuban whoppers, that's just a jumped-up fag.
Talking of which –
Ollie (entering): Hi.
Hey!
Is it Rag Week?
Do you fancy a cigar? I promise I won't tell any of the other prefects.
Hand rolled on the thigh of a Cuban virgin with big tits and four kids.
Yeah, thanks. Um, Malcolm, I just wondered if I could have a quick word, actually. The opposition have got the Week at the Coalface idea. They're gonna do it.
Who, when?
Peter Mannion, I don't know when.
How the fuck did they get that? Your fucking girlfriend, Jesus Christ!
You should have dumped that mad bitch ages ago.
Well I would've done! She is mad, she's a mental woman! But you two kept telling me to go out with her and stay going out with her, just in case I found anything out!
Oh, and what did you find out? That you've been leaking intelligence to them? You're the fucking shittest James Bond ever. You're... you're David fucking Niven!
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