(deleted scene)
Because if you are worried about Malcolm, well, you know, Ollie and I have amassed one or two tips, how to deal with him, over the years. It's pretty much common sense, really: don't drive a gas guzzler, don't sign up for Bupa, don't have an affair. Don't tell racist jokes, however ironic.
Oh!
Don't send your children to independent schools.
Don't dig up Diana and have Patrick Moore play Nazi drinking songs on her ribs.
(deleted scene)
Yeah I suppose so, he's gonna have to let her go free-range for a week, isn't he? Till after the by-election. Then he can snap her beak off, cram her into the battery cage;
'I'm not really good with cages', (impersonates Malcolm) 'Get in there Nicola, fucking get in till you're perfectly square, and you're shiteing cuboid eggs!'
(sighing) Thank God I'm safe. I'm glued to this department and you'd have to steam me off.
Yeah. Well you don't have to worry about me: You don't hang around in this business as long as I have without picking up contacts.
Yes, but Disraeli's dead, Glenn, he died in the Crimea, did you not hear the town crier announce it?
(deleted scene)
It's never too soon to go to Leamington. It's the Venice of the Midlands, if Venice was fucking horrible.
Have a lovely time in Leamington, yeah? I hear it's got the best Lidl in the West Midlands.
(deleted scene)
(at the poster launch in Leamington) And we need to be investing, er, at least –
Invest? Did I hear her say 'invest'?
(on the phone) Ollie, she's gone off-piste, she's off the mountain now.
Oh, Jesus. She's so far off the mountain, she's being finger-banged in a chalet by Bigfoot.
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