(Malcolm sees Nicola outside his office.)
Hey, Dora the Explorer.
(sighing) Still here, then, Malcolm?
Time for a milky drink? Come on. Come on in. I wanna have a word with you.
(Nicola reluctantly comes into Malcolm's office...)
There you go. How was Cabinet? Was it good? Is Tom looking after you?
You're all over the newspapers like a pissing puppy, Malcolm.
Well, I think you'll find that's what we masters of the dark arts call a blip. Tomorrow that will all be old news. It'll be like the fucking War of the Roses. Or AIDS. Remember AIDS? Listen, Nicola, see that? Did Julius mention to you about his inquiry?
Yeah.
The inquiry into the whole fucking crime stats cock-up?
Yeah.
You know the phone call that came through to me from your office? You know, about the whole idea?
Yeah, yeah.
It didn't happen, right?
You want me to cover your back?
I want you to get the old inquiry screen out and slap it on, fucking factor 50, why not? Listen, I'll tell you what. This is what I'll do. I will get for you some really good press attention for your fucking Healthy Choices nonsense. How about that? I'll get you some big fucking healthy headlines.
You're in no position to give me anything. You're not -- you can't even get a fucking bagel cleaned up off your door. Do you mind?
(Nicola gets ready to leave Malcolm's office, but he's still trying to talk to her.)
What? Do you think I can't get it up anymore? Is that it? You're looking at fucking Lazarus, sweetheart. And not just plain Lazarus. I'm fucking self-raising Lazarus, right?
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