Terri, poppet, can you send me out a cry-mail, 'We give a toss, we're sorry for your loss', yeah? Peter, we might need to relaunch the trousers. And get him a tie, a bland one; Glenn, one of yours, yeah?
(Phil goes to get Glenn's tie)
Er, Peter, I have a bit of news I should probably make you aware of.
Yes I do know, Fergus, a man with an amusing name has died.
Er, no, actually, it's that this morning I, well, I set up a community bank.
... What?
You did what? You s– You set up a bank?
Phil (returning with Glenn's tie): I had a moment of weakness and they exploited it, like Hugh Grant.
Yeah, well, we didn't really have much choice 'cause it was all going to piss in a kettle here, so we had to get the economist out of the way.
What are you talking about? What economist?
Well, we were having a preliminary meeting when Phil started to crow, Glenn was having a meltdown, it was getting embarrassing!
You bought a bank out of social embarrassment? I sometimes buy The Big Issue out of social embarrassment, I don't buy a fucking bank!
Peter, this is so fucking us.
Yeah, let me just wind back, right? Let's get this straight, just so that I can deal with you two properly: how much is this bank?
Well, £2 billion.
£2 billion?
Sweet Tracey Emin!
Alright, don't need to shit yourself about it, because we're not buying it. OK? It's funded by taxes.
Oh, that's alright then!
Oh great, the triple! I'm a nurse-killer, a banker, and now I'm raising fucking TAXES?
Well, you are meant to be the bad cop, so what's our out?
(Phil drapes Glenn's tie around Peter's neck)
You're giving me an actual noose along with a metaphorical one. TROUSERS!
Sorry, I'm getting the trousers – (interrupted by an alert on his phone) Jesus! What were you guys doing at the hotel? There's a picture of you on a slide, it's been tweeted by a golfer.
(looks at the photo) Oh, f–
(receiving Phil's phone) No no no no no no...
It's gonna go big, probably viral. Bigger than Charlie Bit My Finger.
You look like the Shit Family Robinson.
(Stewart suddenly screams and hurls Phil's phone at the wall, narrowly missing Emma)
Jesus Christ!
Shit!
(Stewart storms off)
Oh, poor Stewart. I think a bit of his brain broke.
My phone broke! I was up to Warlock General in Dragonlance! A year of my life, gone!
Er, Peter, speaking of socially embarrassing situations, what the fuck were you doing being photographed on a slide?
It was the only place we could get a FUCKING SIGNAL!
Two grown men in a playground, that's a pretty 'clear signal'.
Peter, Number 10 have seen the photo. They don't want you to make a statement. So Fergus, looks like you're up. Statement on Tickle in 10 minutes, OK?
Bring it!
I'm gonna go and talk Stewart down.
(Phil tries to hand the pair of trousers to Peter.)
I don't want the fucking trousers!
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