(Malcolm is talking on his cell phone while heading to his office.)
Just try and wrap your gin-addled brain about this, right? I did say I was at the heart of government. But when...
(Steve Fleming is already in Malcolm's office.)
Malcolm.
(on his phone) Excuse me.
I need to talk to you.
(to Steve) One second, please. (back to his phone) Listen, when that...When that incident occurred, I was on holiday. Are you saying to me that my wee caravan's a great fucking waste of time? And my stupid fucking wing mirror extensions?
(pointing to the TV) The crime stats and Andy Murray, Malc. It's a double fault.
(answering a knock at his door) Listen, if you are not a prostitute or a pizza guy, fuck off! (to Steve) Steve, listen, could you eat or fuck whatever's at the door on your fucking way out, please? (to a colleague) No thanks. (back on his phone) How can I be held responsible? What, for what? I've created a what around the government? I've created a vibe? Listen, son, the only fucking vibe you have to worry about is the one that your wife hides in her knicker drawer. (back to Steve) I am on top of this, okay?
Oh, fine, fine. You know, I'm just saying I'll gladly lend you a hand if you feel the need to keep your head down.
I don't need to keep my head down, because unlike yourself, I don't give blowjobs to truckers.
(Another knock at Malcolm's office door...)
I SAID FUCK OFF!
(The door opens, and -- SURPRISE! It's Julius Nicholson!)
Oh, it's Lord Nicholson! What an enormous pleasure this is!
(with a big smile) Well, in fact, it's, um, the Right Honorable the Lord Nicholson of Arnage. And the kissing of feet may commence!
You got all your stuff ready for your official lording ceremony? Have you got your mink thong and your ermine colostomy bag?
No, I don't, no. I have to hire that, unfortunately. I can't wear it on the Tube or the bus, but I would. It would be great larks, but there we go.
How about a coffee? Coffee?
Well, um, if there's coffee going, I'd never say no to a nice cup of coffee.
Do you not drink coffee anymore? Is it all port and swan's blood these days?
Swan's blood. That does sound nice. No, I'm just sort of passing through, because obviously we need to start booting up this crime stats inquiry. But it's in effect an investigation into the facts. But I thought since I was passing through...
Yeah, but you don't have to talk to me about that, do you? 'Cause I was on my holidays then. Did you get my postcard?
Well, I will speak to whomsoever I need to speak to, holiday or no holiday?
Where did you learn to speak like that? Is there a special school that's just you and Brian Sewell went to?
I'm gonna leave you to it, frankly.
So soon?
And I'm gonna make tracks as well, Malcolm.
Okay, good to see you both.
(But just before Steve leaves...)
(to Malcolm, softly) The problem is that you are shifting from the man people love to hate to the man people just hate. From Simon Cowell to Piers Morgan.
See you later, and remember, my door's always open.
(And when Steve leaves, Malcolm throws part of the bagel sandwich he was eating onto the door in disgust.)
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