Good morning, my little chicks and cocks.
Malcolm, monitoring... All the usual.
How did your team do at the weekend?
- All right, yeah, we won. - Wanker.
Sam, morning. How are you?
Well, pop-pickers, what disc shall we start with today?
Wonky Ron or how about Simon Foster?
On the Eddie Mair PM programme on the BBC.
Well, I'm joined by Simon Foster,
the Minister for International Development.
You've been in the job for 18 months.
Do you think you're making headway?
Yes, I do.
You'd expect me to say that, I suppose.
Mark.
You're co-ordinating the Millennium Goals press release?
Co-ordinate it better, please.
Is that the minister?
OK.
Have we heard anything from Malcolm about last night's interview?
No, not yet.
- Perhaps he didn't hear it. - Or maybe he's dead.
He might be dead!
He might have finally had that massive stroke he's been heading for.
It's been in the fucking post.
Preventable sickness in many of the poorest countries around the world.
And of course, the big one is diarrhoea...
Ah, diarrhoea. This is the Minister for International Development.
He should be talking about food parcels,
not fucking arse-spraying mayhem.
So if we can tackle the easy things like diarrhoea, then we can...
Oh, say it again. Yes, very good.
What is this, the shitting forecast?
..hopefully that will strike another blow
in the war against preventable diseases.
- You mentioned the word "war". - Steady, Eddie.
Against preventable diseases.
All the evidence now points to
a US military intervention in the Middle East.
Is that your view?
Well, personally, I think that war is unforeseeable.
Sam. Sam!
.. Unforeseeable? - Yes.
No, you do not think that!
Sam, I'm going to have to go
to International Development to pull Simon Foster's fucking hair.
He did not say "unforeseeable".
You may have heard him say that, but he did not say that.
And that is a fact.
Now, he's gonna want you to row back
on that "unforeseeable" thing on Question Time tonight.
On Question Time, you know the funny question they always have at the end?
Yes.
I think we should prep that now.
Cos I'd like to shine on the funny question.
I'm a funny guy, with a light touch.
There's this guy, he's a property tycoon. He bought a South Sea island.
It might be something like that. If you had to spend the rest of your life
on a desert island with someone, who would it be with?
Well... I can't say my wife cos I haven't got one.
I can't say my girlfriend, because I haven't got one of those either.
- And don't say Mandela. That's... - No, no, boring. And a bloke.
Or Keira Knightley.
That's a good idea.
Pervert. Sex. Minister. People don't want to know.
I don't think so.
Did you take the washing out of the machine?
- No. - What do you mean "no"?
No, I didn't take the washing out of the machine.
- It's gonna go really stale... - It'll be fine.
- It's not fine. - It's fine. I'll wear stale pants.
I don't want to go out with someone in stale pants.
Well, there we go. I could go commando.
But I don't think that's accepted in government.
Have you got everything you need for your first day?
Oh, yes, all in here. My massive intellect
and an apple for Simon Foster.
Simon "Fluster", don't you mean?
Don't call him that. I'm rebranding him.
He was absolutely crap on the radio last night.
He sounded like a chicken with a wasp up its arse.
You give me a week, I'll have him sounding
like a chicken without a wasp up its arse.
Good luck at the Foreign Office. Try not to annoy Russia.
- See you later. - See you later.
I'll give you a call later. Keep your phone on.
- Be careful. Cars. - Oh, really? Thanks for that.
Helpful...
OK, OK, go ahead and print "unforeseeable".
Listen, assume I tell your wife
about you and Angela Heaney at the Blackpool conference,
what would be best, an e-mail, a phone call or what?
I could write it on a cake! With those little silver balls.
"Your hack husband betrayed you on October 4th...
and congratulations on the new baby."
Yeah, maybe it's better to spike it, yeah.
OK, fuckity bye.
Did you put away the lasagne?
Yes, of course, it's in the fridge.
It's got Clingfilm on it and everything.
Why did you put Clingfilm on it?
Because that keeps it fresh. That's the point of Clingfilm.
No, I don't want to hold.
It might dry out.
That's an amateur mistake.
I'm not holding any longer. What's he waiting for, a fucking sex change?
It's not carcinogenic.
What, Simon Foster?
Clingfilm doesn't give you cancer.
Diarrhoea Of A Nobody. I like that.
- Aluminium foil... - Apropos of that...
..gives you AIDS, or, you know, lasagne gives you syphilis.
- It's not a thing. - No, you relax!
God, who's that?
Get me fucking Brian!
If you don't get me fucking Brian, I'm gonna come over there.
I'm gonna lock you in a fucking flotation tank
and pump it full of sewage until you fucking drown.
- Paris Hilton. - Are you serious?
- Lily Allen. - No, no women.
- Yeah? - The Olsen twins.
- Thank you. - Who's that?
- Malcolm. He's coming to see you. - Oh, shit, he's still alive.
- When's he due? - Now!
And don't say you weren't prepared, because I rang ahead.
Give us a minute, could you, please, love?
In the words of the late, great Nat King fucking Cole,
unforeseeable, that's what you are.
Who's that geezer?
Oh, I know who he is.
You're Dan, right?
- Daniel? The new adviser? - Toby.
Toby. Oh. Sorry about the "Dan" thing.
You guys are often called "Dan" so it's worth a punt.
I'm Judy, by the way. Judy Molloy.
Director of Communications for International Development.
Is this a normal morning?
The minister was rubbish on last night's interview...
- He was rubbish? - Yes. Rubbish.
Come on, Malcolm, he asked me for... for a personal opinion.
Why didn't you say? He asked you. Fuck, of course, that explains it.
If he'd asked you to fucking black up, or to give him your PIN number
or to shit yourself, would you have done that?
Blacked up, yes. It was radio, nobody would've known.
Very good.
War is basically unforeseeable, isn't it?
That is not our line. Walk the fucking line.
We've got Karen Clark over from Washington today.
We've got enough fucking Pentagon goons here
to stage a fucking coup d'état.
- Minister. - Not the time, love.
- I'm busy. Fuck off. - This is Toby.
Toby, hi. I'm glad you could make it. It's a bit of an odd morning here.
Welcome to the madhouse. I apologise for Malcolm.
Don't apologise for me. Apologise for yourself.
Did I not just tell you to fuck off and yet you're still here?
It's true, I am, yes, still here.
Hi, foetus boy,
lesson one, I tell you to fuck off, what do you do?
Eff off?
You'll go far.
- Now, fuck off. - Right.
Judy and I were thinking that I could row back on Question Time tonight.
You're not on Question Time. You've been disinvited.
- We've been prepping Question Time. - Why wasn't I told about this?
Why the fuck would I tell you about it? I told you to fuck off twice.
It's a scheduled media appearance by this department's secretary of state
so it falls well within my purview.
- Within your purview? - Yes.
Where do you think you are, some fucking Regency costume drama?
This is a government department, not a fucking Jane fucking Austen novel.
- Malcolm... - Allow me to pop a jaunty little bonnet
on your purview and ram it up the shitter with a lubricated horse cock.
Your swearing does not impress me.
My husband works for Tower Hamlets and believe me,
those kids make you sound like... Angela Lansbury.
She's married? Poor bastard.
Malcolm, Judy's lubricated horse cock aside for a second,
are you saying I'm now no longer allowed to make media appearances?
Correct. Not until we can trust you to keep the line.
I was going to keep to the line. I was going to say,
I don't think war is unforeseeable...
- What is it, then? - I dunno. Foreseeable? No.
No! Not foreseeable. That's fucking declaring war.
Do you want to fucking declare war?
I'm a Cabinet minister. I didn't get here by screwing up
every media appearance I ever had.
Write this down. It's neither foreseeable nor unforeseeable.
Right, so not inevitable, but not...
You'd better walk on this fucking line.
..evitable.
You, hey, put the snifter out there that if the BBC ambushes a minister
with another surprise question about the war, I'll drop a bomb on them.
I can't do that, can I? That's political.
Does that not fit within your purview, Marie Antoinette?
Why don't you just scuttle off back to fucking Cranford
and play around with your tea and your cakes and your fucking horse cocks.
Let them eat cock! Hey, you! Ron Weasley, you do it.
No, no, you needn't worry about the Canadians,
they're just happy to be there.
Yes, well, they always look surprised when they're invited.
Shall I just give Toby a call about this Simon Foster thing?
Yes, good idea. No, I'm not talking to you.
Get me the Angolan chargé d'affaires.
Yes, well stop him playing football.
Hello.
So, how's it going? Found the bogs?
It's a bit...manic.
Never like this at Agriculture. People tend not to get so sweary about wheat.
Sorry, Michael, do you mind just turning it down a bit?
- Just a little bit...grating. Bloody music.
Listen, I've got a bit of leg-up for you, actually.
Yeah. I think we can get Simon Foster into the three o'clock with Karen Clark.
Karen Clark?
Was she the woman who went round Britain in a coracle for leukaemia?
No, Toby. Karen Clark, US Assistant Secretary of State.
Oh, right, Karen Clark. Wow, great.
- Michael wants to say something. - Meat.
Meat?
His man is only going to be meat in the room. No talking. He's just padding.
The Americans don't feel like they're getting a proper meeting
unless there's 30 people on each side,
so he's basically like bulk in the room.
He's not exactly going to be relevant, but he'll be present.
I won't tell him that, to be honest.
- OK, I've got to go, darling. I love you. - OK, yes, likewise.
Affirmative on that one.
All right, darling, take care, bye.
Can I turn it back up now?
You're on sexual health, aren't you? That's ironic.
Right, Toby, quick tour.
- I should probably just go and... - This is Mike.
Just leave it to Mike, cos he knows what he's doing.
- Don't you, Mike? - What?
Exactly. He's an idiot.
Listen, I understand your hostility at new wood being brought in.
Sorry, that's the end of the tour, I'm afraid.
There is really a lot of very important people that you ought to know about,
but I have to...
- Toby, hi. - All right, boss.
I'm sorry about earlier. Malcolm.
- He's a bit of an alpha male, isn't he? - Yes.
Listen,
I was just um...
- Don't sit on Anna's desk. - Sorry.
I have managed to get you into the big Foreign Office meeting this afternoon.
The Karen Clark meeting? Really? Shit.
How did you do that?
I did it through sheer bloody hard work.
- Judy? - Yeah?
Tobes here has got me into the big Karen Clark meeting this afternoon.
Oh!
The big "meat".
Impressive, eh? How are you spelling that, by the way?
Two "E"s.
Oh, right.
Just one thing.
Talkingwise, you might find once we get in there, that the bulk of it...
- Can we just wait for Judy? - Of course.
Simon.
Michael, hi.
Hello. Welcome.
- Michael? - Yes.
I'm Chad. We'd like a dual horseshoe formation for the meeting set-up.
An enclave for Ms Clark. An enclave for the Pentagon delegation.
And, politely, we request the presence
of both carbonated and non-carbonated waters.
Right.
- Is that all? - Yeah, that's it. Thank you so much.
Not at all. Wow, who was that? Young Lankenstein?
He's probably running something relatively major.
They're all kids in Washington.
It's like Bugsy Malone, but with real guns.
Thank you all for coming today
to the Interim Anglo-American Resources Forum.
I'd particularly like to welcome...
What's your view like?
- Well, it's pretty basic. - OK, can we swap?
I don't want a consensus forming around the premise
that military action is necessarily the primary option at this point.
This paper which was authored by one of my aides, Liza Weld...
Liza, I hope you don't mind if I foreground this paper.
It's not strictly my paper.
In the sense that you were the one who put in the requests...
Miss Weld is very, very modest, but this is her paper.
And she's highlighted several reasons
why we cannot envision a theatre deployment for at least 12 months.
Should I say something? She invited me. I should say something.
If you don't say something in the first ten minutes,
then you might as well not say anything at all.
I really think you shouldn't say anything.
- No, I should say something. - No, Simon, don't, just don't...
Don't pull my hand down.
The committee feels a quicker deployment is possible.
Ah, which committee?
It was discussed in a number of committees.
- If I mentioned one committee... - You did.
..then it was a slip of the tongue.
What, because you've accidentally alluded to a secret committee,
a war committee?
If I may intercept. I understand we are rather pressed for time.
Liza, do you know if Linton has set up a secret war committee?
- No. I have no idea. - Get me on it.
I think it's worth noting that ministers in the UK government,
such as our colleague here, Simon Foster,
have made it very clear that they feel currently war is unforeseeable.
Isn't that right, Simon?
Er...well, yes.
That's... That's what I said.
And I stick to what I said.
That doesn't mean that what I said won't change... in the future.
Um... it's not immutable
or mutable.
It's... It's... It's...
It's a developing...
- I think there are areas of mutual discussion
that we could come onto now, and then maybe if there's time left at the end...
Judy, can you just pass that on? Is that fine?
Yes, that's all fine, thank you.
Right, come here. We need to talk. What do you mean, "Stop being a tit?"
In what way was I being a tit?
Why am I even over here?
You were just meat in the room, Simon.
- Yeah... - Meat in the room?
Yeah.
For fuck's sake, Judy, I've taken an hour out to come over here
and be room meat.
Yes, but... but a prime cut,
you know, not offal.
Oh, great. I'm not liver.
What was I, tit meat?
Well, no, I just...
Come on. Let's get back.
- Hey, Liza. - Hey.
I just want to say congratulations. Your paper got a major citation.
You must be psyched that Karen brought it up.
Yeah, well, that was, you know, her call. Not mine.
You couldn't write a paper
that clashes more violently with the current climate if you were trying.
It seems like you almost were trying.
- I wasn't trying! Believe me. - You're like the woman in The Omen.
You've given birth to a demon and now it's gonna kill you.
You probably identify with the kid from The Omen.
See, you're an only child, aren't you?
I don't understand how my parents'
limited reproductive ability reflects badly on me.
I'm the sperm that made it, so...
- Liza. - I'm being called by our boss.
- OK, retreat. See you later. - Yeah, have fun with yourself.
Have fun with your career kryptonite.
What's going on down there? That looks important.
My teeth are killing me. Are they chipped?
I think that one has always been there, right?
It was a chip on the veneer.
- Don't look at my teeth for a long time. - I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
- It just surprised me. - Liza!
Toby.
Toby! Hi.
- Hi. - Give me a call!
- Yeah. - OK.
Liza Weld. She did the Kennedy Scholarship at my college.
- I had a little thing for her at the time. - I can imagine, yeah.
Don't think she remembered me, to be honest.
That is one of the side-effects of Rohypnol.
Linton has set up a secret war committee. I just know it.
I mean, Linton is an absolute lunatic, Liza.
- He is dangerous. - It's not good.
The voices in his head now sing barbershop together.
I really, really hope there isn't a war, it's going to be a nightmare.
It's bad enough having to cope with the fucking Olympics.
- Minister? - Just a quick word, sir?
This is your chance to nail the line. Do you want to nail the line?
No, I'll freestyle it. Hello, there. Hi.
So is war unforeseeable, Minister?
Look, all sorts of things, that are actually very likely
are also unforeseeable.
For the plane in the fog, the mountain is un... unforeseeable,
but then it is suddenly very real and inevitable.
Is this your opinion or is this the government position?
The mountain in the metaphor is
a completely hypothetical mountain that could represent anything.
So, who is the plane, and who is the mountain?
- Is the government lost in the fog? - What I'm saying is...
that to walk the road of peace...
sometimes we need to be ready to climb...the mountain of conflict.
Thank you so much.
Thank you. That's it, ladies and gentlemen, thank you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, why didn't we nail the line?
Simon, I did try to warn you.
Yes, you tried to warn me, but you didn't actually stop me, did you?
I can't tackle you to the ground.
That's like shouting "Train!" at somebody as they get hit by a train.
You should go "Train! There's a fucking train!"
- Bollocks!
- Fuck, it's Malcolm. - It's Malcolm for me, too.
How does he do that?
Simon, I don't like finding out about people employed by this government
via the news, unless they've just died.
Be here, now.
The British Government must be prepared
to climb the mountain of conflict.
It's unclear if his view is shared by the Prime Minister.
Maybe we should get it out there.
Float the idea that the war is a resigning issue for you.
You can't say it's a resigning issue, because then you have to resign.
You're having a really great first day, you know that?
You are supposed to be a Cabinet minister!
You are supposed to be Officer Class!
Don't do this, don't make fucking waves.
- We can do without the ritual humiliation.
You know I'm against talking up the war.
You're against talking up the war?
Is that why you said "climb the mountain of conflict"?
Do you know what you sounded like?
A fucking Nazi Julie Andrews.
I'm just saying I might be forced to the verge of making a stand.
A stand?
Right, The White Stripes, outside.
Uh-uh.
There's only two people in The White Stripes.
I um...
I admire you.
I really do, I admire you.
Making a stand.
So, I take it, I can tell the PM that you... you don't want to go to Washington?
- To where? - To Washington.
See, the PM, he wants you... Well, he wanted you
to go on a fact-finder, you know.
Problems we might have to face if it all goes boombastic in the Middle East.
Oh, right.
But, you know, that's you, you're on the verge, aren't you?
You're on the verge of your stand, so...
Well, Malcolm, come on,
I don't know what words I used in the heat of the moment.
Maybe in a sense, yeah, I am on the verge, but that's the important thing.
I'm on the verge. I'm not in any way decided.
Christ on a bendy-bus. Don't be such a fucking faff arse.
No, I'm standing my ground, on the verge.
Right, OK, well, when you go to America,
talk to Karen Clark at the State Department, yeah?
- Right, OK. I'll give it a whirl. - Keep away from Linton Barwick.
He's pushing the war for Caulderwood's lot.
I'll deal with him. He uses a live hand grenade as a fucking paper weight.
That's a true story.
Wow, I won't talk to him.
Talk to as few people as possible, that would be best for you.
OK, Liza, the priorities are shower, get me on Linton's war committee
and get me to a dentist, not necessarily in that order.
Shower later.
What has Linton been up to while we've been gone?
Have we declared war on California yet?
Ah, Karen.
- How was London? Good meetings? - Very good meetings.
You know we had some great discussions there, I think our...
Thank you very much, and I will read your words when they come through.
Thank you so much, Karen, hm. Bob.
You won't read the words, Linton.
Is Chad coming? Chad?
No, he's probably doing his desperate chorus girl thing,
hanging around Linton's office, trying to catch an eye, you know.
That's why he's wearing his push-up bra today. Have you noticed?
- Assistant Secretary of State, hi. - Brad, how are you?
- Chad. - Yep, yep, yep, exactly.
- Can I...? - Yep, you betcha, OK.
Hey, listen, the war committee.
What you have to do is you've got to look for
the ten dullest-named committees happening out of the executive branch.
Because Linton is not going to call it the "Big Horrible War Committee".
He's gonna hide it behind a name like "Diverse Strategy".
Something so dull you're just gonna want to self-harm.
Get me General Miller at the Pentagon, please.
My teeth hurt.
My teeth hurt like hell.
I'm sick of hearing about the teeth, frankly.
Hi, yeah. I'm checking the status on a paper
that was circulated by a staffer here.
It's called...
"Post War Planning. Parameters, Implications and Possibilities".
This is the one by... this is the one by Liza Weld, right?
"PWIP PIP"?
Oh, God, it already has an acronym.
You know another acronym? DOA...
Your career.
My golly, I can't see why anyone would choose to work in a glass office, huh?
Glass offices, in my opinion, are for perverts.
I could request the glass be frosted.
Frosting is on cakes, huh?
Now, what else happened in London?
Ah, generally positive, two glitches...
Really, what?
Karen flagged a report by one of her staffers.
She's obviously trying to use it as some kind of roadblock. It's called PWIP PIP.
- PWIP what? - PWIP PIP.
What is it, a report on bird calls? What does it even stand for?
I can't recall. It's factish. Intel for and against intervention.
We have all the facts on this we need. We don't need any more facts.
In the land of truth, my friend...
..the man with one fact is the king.
You said there was something else, what is that?
In the meeting with the Foreign Office,
the committee was accidentally and briefly alluded to.
Which committee?
The... The war committee, sir.
All right, Karen is not to know about this, huh?
She is an excitable, yapping she-dog.
Get a hold of those minutes. I have to correct the record.
- We can do that? - Yes, we can.
Those minutes are an aide-mémoire for us.
They should not be a reductive record of what happened to have been said,
but they should be more a full record of what was intended to have been said.
I think that's the more accurate version, don't you?
- Sir. - Right.
I don't like this section, let's cut that.
Aye aye, sir.
Let's reverse this.
That was something Karen said, sir.
Well, it's not right, so let's change it.
- Aye, aye, sir. - And... And I like... I like this.
Ah, thank you, sir.
Yeah, let's say everyone agreed with that, huh?
So... So the car will pick you up from the airport.
It's supposed to be quite a good one, I believe.
The Americans are doing that. I've just got the contact numbers.
What's she so fucking happy about?
She's probably just on a personal call.
Why has she got control of the blinds?
I think it's...
I'm a government minister and I don't have control of my own blinds.
I could order you some blinds. I could order you some nice, heavy curtains,
with swags and a pelmet maybe.
Yes, do that.
OK.
Will you come with me?
So, listen...my team for the US, Team Simon...
I'm thinking of taking you and leaving Judy.
I could work with that, definitely.
Plus, she can be a bit, you know...
"Everything's a bit shit, isn't it?" Like that.
Yeah, it's true. No, she can be,
"Oh, so you're the President and I'm supposed to be impressed by that?"
"My husband works in Tower Hamlets. Meh, meh, meh."
"Which is much harder than being President."
Yeah, OK. Well, that's settled. Fuck it, she's staying here. Go and tell her.
What?
- Well, that moves us on to any other business.
I think I've flagged everything that I need to discuss, as I usually do.
Everything you're preparedto discuss.
What is that? What are you doing?
I understand you've started a new committee, Linton. What is that called?
What makes you think that?
It was mentioned at our meeting in London.
Well, you must have misheard me.
No. I misheard the word "committee"?
Maybe it was another word.
Like, say, Khomeini.
- You're sitting on a new Khomeini? - Possibly. There are a lot of words.
Kansas City. Kitty.
- Itty. - "Itty?"
"Itty" is not a word, Bob.
- Commissary. - Thank you, James...
Why don't you just recap for me, at the moment,
all the committees that you're currently sitting on?
I'm sorry, Karen, but you... you appear to be bleeding from the teeth.
Let me see that. Holy Mother of...
Well, don't try to change the subject.
I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sorry. Just ignore the blood.
- We haven't finished the meeting. - I can't ignore... I'm sorry.
I don't mean to be rude, but this is a tad repulsive.
I'm sorry. Excuse me. Liza, come with me, I need you.
Chad, stay here.
Go, Buffy, you belong to the vampire queen now.
- Liza. - I'm coming.
Oh, my God. Shit! He's in there alone.
I cannot stand to see a woman bleed from the mouth.
It reminds me of country and western music, which I cannot abide. Huh?
That stuff is just choking the airwaves.
- Look, sorry, we just need... - Oh, my God!
- It's really bad. It's really bad. - I can't touch anything...
- Nobody was joking. - It's... I need to catch it.
How far are you with the committees?
I've got it down to two, actually.
One is the "Aims and Policy Alignment Committee".
The other is the "Future Planning Committee".
It's not the first one, because I set that up.
Does it really sound dull to you? I thought it was a good name.
Right, no... it is a good name.
Well, find out if it really is the... "Future Planning Committee".
Find out if it really is that.
Um...OK, well, I might go and do that.
You're not going to shout at me if I go and do that, are you?
I'm not a monster, Liza. OK?
Will you stop implying that I'm some kind of monster?
Bob!
- Oh, hey. - Hey.
I wanted to tell you we're having this stupid
"hunk of the month of the office" kind of contest.
And I just didn't want, you know, you to feel objectified in any way,
- or anything like that. - No, not at all.
And Karen knows about the Future Planning Committee.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
- No? - No.
Excuse me.
Future Planning Committee, that's what it is.
Wow!
This is fucking cool.
Don't be callow, Toby, we're on official business.
- This way, gentlemen. - Oh, thanks.
That was a little bit fucking cool.
Yep.
- Did you book a car? - Me? No.
Well, Judy will have booked a car.
Judy?
- Hi. - For fuck's sake!
I was wondering what the car situation is?
It's Robbie's job to book it and your job to check it.
There's obviously... some snarl-up at her end, I think.
- "Simon Forester." - Oh.
Thank you very much.
"England Government, Simon Forester."
My name's Simon Foster, it's British Government.
Hey, Gav, I'm in a fucking motorcade.
Yeah.
I feel like we should have hookers, do you know what I mean?
I mean in here... now.
- Do you want girls? - No, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not.
No, sorry. No hookers, it was just a joke.
I hate hookers. Not in an aggressive way, but, no, thank you.
Strange hotel.
- It's like a hangar for businessmen, isn't it?
- That's better, isn't it? - It's big, yeah.
Just bring them here, that's fine.
Tobes, have you got any m...
Well, I haven't been to an ATM, so I've not... I've only got English.
I mean, I don't suppose English money is...
This and this, sorry that's...
It's usually a dollar a bag.
Ooh, well, there's the Capitol,
you can see there through that window and that tree.
Technically, you've got a Capitol Hill view.
Hi.
Excuse me.
Hello. How are you doing?
Was it something I said? I haven't seen you in a month.
I haven't felt that in years. Thank you.
You're beautiful.
Oh, thank you. I'm sure you say that to all the girls.
Yes, I do... and some of the soldiers, too.
That's why you shouldn't run for office, bimbo eruptions.
Come on, don't believe that shit. I'm not gonna run for office.
I'm just trying to do something different.
It's one of the reasons I like you.
I know your passion about education and housing and...
- Lingerie. Bestiality. - There you go.
I'd forgotten about that.
Are you still allergic to the dog?
Yes, yes, I wake up and my eyes are closed and my head is swollen
and I look like a giant ball sac.
Oh, my God. You know,
they do have modern medication for that sort of thing.
- Beautiful ball sac, though. - Thank you very much.
- How's the Pentagon? - It's kicked up a little.
They're talking invasion reasonably seriously.
Is there somewhere we can talk about this?
- I don't know. - There must be.
- I don't live here. - Follow me.
- Go that way. - Don't let people know we're leaving.
This is good. Her daughter's not home, I talked to her.
- In here? - Yeah.
Although, I don't know what we'll say if somebody comes in right now.
No, I can't think of a good possible excuse, no.
No, me neither, me neither.
- What? - Come here.
Just be careful, don't mess stuff up.
- Oh, come on, it's toys. - Let's sit down.
- So... - Yeah.
Not enough troops.
Total minimum European Theatre requirement.
The Far East, Asia.
- OK. That's how many we have? - Total there, yes.
And then we have the contingency already deployed.
OK, I don't... You've lost me.
Hold on a minute...
Oh, fuck this.
What?
# La la la, la la la la, la la la.
Good.
Your military hardware is impressive, General.
Yeah, well, not any more, it isn't.
- So, you add these together.
So this is the number of combat troops available for an invasion,
according to these figures.
12!
Thousand?
No, 12. 12 troops.
Oh, come on, you're shitting me?
I am shitting you. 12,000 troops, 12,000 troops,
but that's not enough... that's the amount that are going to die.
And at the end of a war you need some soldiers left, really,
or else it looks like you've lost.
Bye, for now.
You know what? I've got some Brits I have to meet tomorrow.
A guy named Simon Foster.
Who's Simon Foster?
He's this guy that said publicly that war was unforeseeable.
And I think he could be very useful on the war committee.
He can internationalise the dissent, start to.
You're going to use him as a little meat puppet?
Tobes... hi.
Hi.
What are we gonna...do tonight?
Gonna do tonight?
Yes, what are we up to, my... my chief aide...?
Well...yeah, I mean, I sort of thought tonight
we'd probably be just a bit tired, really.
No, I am tired. But I'm also a career politician, Toby,
in the political powerhouse of the world for 48 hours,
and I thought it might be nice to go out rather than just sitting in my room
trying to spank one out over a shark documentary,
because I'm scared if I watch a porno
it'll end up in the register of members' interests. So...
What have you got...for us to do?
Right, what have I got? Well, so far we've got...
Well, there's a leaflet through the door
for happy hour at the bar which might be interesting.
Also I do have the number of a guy
I was at uni with who works for CNN out here.
- No. - No?
- Where are you? - I'm waving at you.
I don't see you, be more visible.
I'm, like, practically on top of you, I'm coming to you, is what I'm going to do.
You can stop talking on your cellphone now.
Of course I can.
Look, I have to leave. Phone Simon Foster's guy.
Tell them, come to the war committee.
I'll give them some face time tomorrow around ten o'clock.
It'll be coffee and Danish. Tea. They'll want tea.
Tea and sympathy, tea and a hand job, whatever.
..great deal that is unknown about hammerhead sharks,
such as their mating habits.
You can definitely spot the female ones.
Hello.
Hi, Toby, what are you doing tonight?
Well, no, it's unbelievably hectic. Actually we're...
Their courtship is a violent affair.
The male will bite the female until she acquiesces.
The war committee, that's a big thing, Liza.
Yeah, well, I have been on committees before,
the Challenges For The Cheese Market, that was one of the big ones.
Yeah, God, yeah. Love a drink.
40 minutes is perfect, yeah, yeah.
Bye-bye. Bye. Bye. Bye, bye.
- Matty, how's CNN? - Great.
I can't, mate, no.
Liza Weld has got us onto the Future Planning Committee in the morning.
The "war committee" to the likes of you and me.
What are you talking about?
The Future Planning Committee is Linton's war committee.
Do you not work for CNN or is it the Cartoon News Network?
Come in. I just wasn't expecting to see you here.
Physically here. Obviously you're always in my heart.
I'm here, I'm there, I'm fucking everywhere, I'm the egg man.
Have you come to insult me in a different time zone?
Yeah. No, sorry, I'm just off out for a drink with her just now.
No. You're barking up the wrong cock there, my friend.
Little Toby is staying very much in his hammock this evening.
- Simon, I've got us on the... - Hiya.
Jesus Christ, fucking hell, Malcolm.
You're supposed to shit yourself in there, not out here.
I've got us on Linton's Future Planning Committee for tomorrow morning.
Brilliant. What is that?
It's the war committee.
What? The actual war... the actual war committee?
- Who's going to be there? - Karen Clark, Liza Weld,
me and Simon...
Simon and me.
How about the rest of the committee, who are they going to be?
Jimmy Osmond, Gwyneth Paltrow? It's a diversion.
The real committee, that's happening at the White House.
I'll text you the details, because I'm going to go out
for a drink with some State Department bods just now.
Don't mention this to the press, OK? Don't mention it to anyone.
If the press get a whiff that there's a war committee
even a cardboard one, every fucker in this town
is gonna turn up and try and get on it.
So no matter what gay bar you end up in, keep it shtoom.
I was watching that.
Yeah, well, I have to have a word with you.
You might want to slip into your negligee.
- You see this mosh pit? - Yeah.
Well, they're mostly house staffers, senators' interns.
Tonight they rage hard, but tomorrow they go back to the Hill
and argue noise-reduction legislation.
- Is this yours or mine? - I don't know, I've got three.
So one of these has got to be yours.
Those are like fluids that I've never... would you call wax a fluid?
No, it's not a fluid, it's more of a...
- It's very intimate. - It's an ooze... it's an ooze.
Ooo...eugh!
Karen will want you to say "War is unforeseeable."
And Linton will want you to talk up the "climbing the mountain of conflict" line.
You say nothing, OK?
You stay detached, otherwise that's what I will do to your retinas.
Right. Can I go to bed now, please?
No, no, no, no. We're going to stay here
and you are going to rehearse saying nothing.
Am I being tortured?
You look worried.
It's the paper that I wrote for Karen.
It's called PWIP PIP, it's about war.
The pros and cons, and I came up with too many cons.
I'm, like, fucking worried because...
this is, like, my career on the line.
I thought you were worried, because you were looking worried.
But you know, don't... I mean, don't... don't worry.
- Thank you. - OK.
- Sure. - Thank you.
God damn it!
- Are you OK? - Yeah, I'm just taking off my shoes.
Why is that? Is it a mosque?
It's just, like...
Is it... Is it a bouncy castle?
Can I just say, what happens in Washington,
stays in Washington, yeah?
Well, I live in Washington, so that doesn't, like, really work for me.
Yeah?
A number for a cab company in Washington DC, please.
Just straight through, straight through. Hi, I need a cab.
Well, I don't know. I'm outside number 1427, moving on...
I don't know, it's a nice street, it's quite leafy,
federal houses.
Marcel's is nice.
I like their wraps.
And you should go to La Taverna, the Greek place, that's fantastic.
They do that thing where they set fire to the cheese.
What's that called? It's a lot of fun.
Yes, it sounds fun.
And, well, there's the Aerospace Museum and the National Gallery.
Do they set fire to the pictures?
Yeah.
Hi, sorry I'm so late for the meeting. One or two issues getting here, but...
- I'm Karen. - Hi. Toby.
Pull an all-nighter?
- Well, I... I was led astray. - Oh. By who?
I... I just ran into some people from the MoD and...
Not Penny Grayling?
No.
Another...gang.
Wow, I didn't realise we had so many delegations in town.
No, well..."The British are coming!"
So...
Yeah, you know what? I have a lot of things to check on just now.
So this would probably be a good place to break things up.
No problem.
Brilliant.
Bye.
I've brought your bag for you.
Cheers, man.
Tobes, I don't want to have to read you the riot act here,
but I am going to have to read you some extracts from the riot act.
Like section one, don't leave your boss twisting in the wind,
and then burst in late smelling like a pissed seaside donkey.
"The British are coming."
All right, I was late for the meeting. I am sorry,
but it's not like I threw up in there, is it?
No, you're right, I'm being unfair.
I should be thanking you for not throwing up.
Well done, you're a star. You didn't wet yourself, did you?
You're in the right city. You didn't say anything overtly racist.
You didn't pull your dick out and start plucking it
and shouting, "Willy banjo."
No, I'm being really unfair.
You'd got so much right without actually being there
for the beginning of one of the most important moments of my career.
Thanks, you're a legend.
That was just the beginning, do you think? Are we going back in there?
I don't know, we barely said hello.
I've had muggings that lasted longer.
All we talked about was flammable cheese.
- What if our meeting has finished? What if Karen comes back,
and then we're still sitting here?
It's going to be embarrassing, isn't it? We're going to look like groupies.
What if the meeting hasn't finished?
And she comes back and we've disappeared?
Maybe I could call Judy? She could...
Please can we try and just do one thing without Judy?
Fine.
I think we've drawn long enough from that...teat.
Surprisingly enough, a lot of the marble in the building is not imported.
- Really? - It's really interesting...
- If you study the stonework... - Not at the moment.
So, you made it in OK, right?
Yeah, hunky-dory, thanks. Can I get a coffee?
Sure, sure.
If we just get started, my assistant should be bringing in coffee shortly.
Your assistant?
Yeah. So, item.
We need to have a conversation about the mood of the British Parliament,
the bumps in the road ahead and what not.
I'm sorry, I don't... This situation here is... is this it?
No offence, son, but you look like you should still be
at school with your head down a fucking toilet.
Your first point there, the offence? I'm afraid I'm going to have to take it.
Your second point, I'm 22, but item, it's my birthday in nine days, so...
if it will make you feel more comfortable, we could wait.
Don't get sarcastic with me, son.
We burned this tight-arsed city to the ground in 1814.
And I'm all for doing it again, starting with you, you frat fuck.
You get sarcastic with me again
and I will stuff so much cotton wool down your fucking throat
it'll come out your arse like the tail on a Playboy bunny.
I was led to believe I was attending the war committee.
Yes, Assistant Secretary of State Linton Barwick asked me to brief you
on the work of the Future Planning Committee.
I'm away.
And here we are. The fucking Vice President
has also graced us with his presence.
Give him a bottle of milk.
You didn't wake me up.
The thought crossed my mind, but you just looked so sweet there.
You know, with the jet lag and all.
I don't know, I thought you knew what you were doing.
Well, no. Obviously I didn't know what I was doing, I was asleep.
That's how people walk through windows, that's how that happens.
Hey, Liza? I've got another call
for you about the committee from Senator Crudden's office.
Crudden? What is going on?
I mean, how did CNN know about the committee?
Did Linton post, like, an invite on Facebook or something?
Liza? Everyone is so hot for this paper, I just wanted to let you know.
I'm about to run off another ten copies.
- Just stop. - It's like a Harry Potter book,
if Harry Potter made people really, really angry.
You're in hot water, you're lobsterising.
Do you smell lobster? Because I smell lobster.
Strong...bisque wafting this way.
How far would you go with Linton?
You freaky little stalker.
Downtown? Or all the way up Brokeback Mountain?
Smells like bisque. Smells like bisque.
Where's the war committee? I thought I was going.
Simon's going. I thought you were doing your one-to-one?
Where the fuck is it happening?
It's in the State Department on the seventh floor.
- Malcolm? - What?
Do you like how I'm telling you what's going on where you are?
Let me tell you what's going on where you are, sweetheart.
A certain vinegar-faced, manipulative cowbag is about
to discover that she's out of a fucking...
job. Fucking hung up, haven't you? You fucking hoity-toity fucking...
Hey, buddy? Enough with the curse words, all right?
Kiss my sweaty balls, you fat fuck.
- There's the grenade. - I know, I'm looking at it.
He's got "Climb the mountain of conflict" on his picture.
He's picked up on that?
I'm a bumper sticker.
Shit, there's Karen Clark.
Have a meeting, have a meeting.
What about the dialectic, as it spreads across the different territories?
- Interesting dialectic... - Oh, hi.
Hi. I'll see you at the committee.
We're just sorting out a bit of prep...
Very good, that's great.
- Liza. They're still here. - I know. I told them where it was.
OK, let's go, let's go. Come on.
Quick, we've got to keep up with them, now. Let's roll.
No, you can't say "let's roll", they don't like it here.
That's just who asked to be in on the committee, it's crazy.
- Yeah. - Hello.
Are you joining us or shall we see you there?
Oh, I'm so sorry. No, see you there.
I don't need to do any of the things
that you need to go in there to do, so I'll just see you there.
- Toby, do you need to use the...? - No, no, no.
- I don't need the restroom. - All right, OK.
Yeah, they're insane.
Where is it?
I don't know. We can wait here.
Wait round here. When they come out, we'll follow them again.
Plenty of room down the back.
We seem to be overrun with insurgents, Bob, huh?
- There must have been a leak. - Really, no kidding?
- Unbelievable! - Is this the wrestling? Is that the ring?
There's General Miller.
I think it's best that we move, reconvene to a bigger, a larger venue.
- If you follow my lead... - Take an agenda.
Please take an agenda, we want to stick to that.
- This is a cluster fuck. How did CNN know about this?
- Hold onto that one! - Could you get Miller to sign it?
If we could do this with a certain amount of energy.
Just this way, folks.
Moo!
Find a chair, wherever you're comfortable.
More this way.
Excellent. I'm room meat again.
This is a massive abattoir of room meat.
Just so you know, Karen and I did not appreciate
having to skulk around like Mulder and Scully
to find out about the committee.
Well, you're both here now, huh, John and Yoko?
We need to talk.
How about my office, 12:30 tomorrow, huh?
OK, off you go.
- What do you mean? - I've got this covered.
Go and find the next thing. Talk to that Chad boy, the boy from The Shining.
He knows things.
- Don't make me pump Chad. - No, I'm making you pump Chad.
Go on, it'll be easy-peasey lemon-squeezy.
No, it won't. It'll be difficult, difficult, lemon difficult, that is what it'll be.
Have a lovely afternoon. Stop a war for me.
So, welcome to the somewhat engorged
session of the Future Planning Committee.
Yes, Assistant Secretary, on point six,
it feels like there's already been an assumption that we're invading
and don't you think that we should discuss the practical implications?
I mean, this is, after all, the war committee.
This is the Future Planning Committee.
Well, unofficially, it is called the war committee.
Well, Karen, unofficially, we can call anything whatever we want.
I mean, unofficially, this is a shoe, but it's not, Karen, it is a glass of water.
And this is the Future Planning Committee.
Well, unofficially, this appears to be bullshit.
Hey.
- What's all this? - "Climb the mountain of conflict!"
We're just choosing a font for what looks appropriate.
What about that font the SS used?
Have you thought about using that one?
Er...well, that obviously has bad connotations.
Heavy metal?
- No, the SS. - Oh, right.
Has a decision already been made, in principle, to advocate invasion?
I would refer you to the recent comments
of our colleague from the UK, Mr Simon Foster, in that regard.
Yes, I think that Mr Foster would have something to say to that.
I'm... I'm certainly hearing both sides.
In England we have a saying for a situation such as this,
which is that it's difficult, difficult...
.. lemon difficult.
You betcha. Huh? I do think a consensus is forming.
No, No, it's not, and you have no basis for saying that.
Karen, calm down.
Because we don't want you to have another haemorrhage.
Linton! Linton!
Mr Tucker, isn't it? Nice to see you again.
Are you fucking me about?
Is there a problem, Mr Tucker?
I've just come from a briefing with a nine-year-old child.
You're talking about AJ. AJ is one of our top guys.
He's a Stanton College Prep, Harvard.
One of the brightest and best.
Well, his briefing notes were written in alphabetti spaghetti.
When I left, I nearly tripped up over his fucking umbilical cord.
I'm sorry it troubles you that our people
achieve excellence at such an early age.
But could we just move on to what's important here?
Now, I understand that your Prime Minister has asked you
to supply us with some, say, fresh British intelligence, is that true?
Yeah, apparently, your fucking master race of highly-gifted toddlers
- can't quite get the job done... - All right.
..between breast feeds and playing with their Power Rangers.
So, an actual grown-up has been asked to fucking bail you out.
Ah, Minister. Thank you so much for your support, we appreciate it.
And what did you say, that "Climb the mountain of conflict"?
- Right, that's terrific. - It's quite complicated in terms of my...
It's early days, my friend. All roads lead to Munich.
"All roads lead to Munich"? What the fuck does that mean?
I think it just means... Actually, I don't know what it means.
- You see that? Pull that out, America deflates.
Yeah, very easy to mock. The closest you'll come to getting one of those
is buying a fucking Toblerone.
I'll meet you in the car. Come on, back to London.
So, what are we going back to
apart from a nice cup of tea and some knife crime?
Constituency surgery in Northampton.
Oh, great.
Meeting my constituents.
It's like being Simon Cowell but without the ability to say,
"Fuck off you're mental."
It's stuck.
Simon, do you mind?
If you just kick it at the bottom really hard, that should do it.
I'm just going to go and deal with that guttering.
We've just come back from America, Roz.
Right. How was the President?
Good, actually. Yeah.
Good.
Oh, dear, how the mighty have fallen. From White House to shitehouse.
Actually, mate, sorry, fuck this, could you get under there?
- Is that any better? - No.
This septic tank, if we didn't even know it was there in the first place,
how come we're responsible for it now?
I think what's causing the problem
is that it's not actually a council septic tank.
- You should leave this to us now. - Really?
Certainly, I'm completely on board.
- Is he? - Thanks for coming in.
- All right? - Right, yes, thank you.
- Thank you. - Thanks very much.
Thanks.
- Hello. - Hello.
- Mr Foster. - Call me Simon.
- Right, OK. - You've met Roz.
- I know I have. - Lovely.
I'll keep it brief, I know you're a busy man. There's a fellow there
who wants to stop people talking in foreign languages in shops.
Yeah. Well, this sometimes can be a magnet
for people who are slightly mentally dispossessed.
And also very sensible people, like yourself, Paul.
- Paul, why don't you just... - Don't you fucking patronise me, mate.
Paul, why don't you just outline the whole issue?
Right, OK, I'll tell you again.
Your constituency side wall...
- Uh-huh. -.. is falling down.
Your wall... is falling into my mother's garden.
She tried to call the office, but she was fobbed off.
Fobbed off by your people, because she's not Lord Snooty in a posh car
or Madonna on a horse.
Well, that I... I find that sort of thing incredibly irritating myself.
It's a patch from London, it's Karen Clark. Urgent.
- Hello? Sorry, I'm not here. - Sorry, Paul.
- I have to take this. - Am I being fobbed off?
Absolutely not.
What's the difference between being fobbed off and what happened?
You won't be able to forget me, Simon.
What's going on there, Simon?
It's... It's departmental business. It's about a wall.
- Oh, Gaza? - Uh-huh.
I'm wondering where you were in committee, Simon.
I called for back-up and you sat there like a dumb sack of shit.
Only maybe worse, because, actually, on a molecular level,
shit is probably fizzling with energy.
I have to say, Karen, I do have a clear strategy on this,
which is I'm playing... playing the long game.
Still here, Simon.
They've bounced us into a short game, and you just sat there like a...
What do you call it in England? A wanker.
No, we don't call it that.
Paul. Paul.
Perhaps if I had a bomb strapped to my chest, I'd get more attention.
He's mentioned the matter of a bomb.
I'm not going to let a bomb off, I work for the National Trust.
How do I know you're not going to let a bomb off?
Listen, Paul, why don't I give you, the details of my cell
- so that you... - Mobile phone details.
- Have you got a mobile, Paul?
- Of course I've got a fucking mobile! - Roz.
What is wrong with you?
Five megapixels.
Can we see the wall? Would that satisfy you?
- Well, it's a start. - Friends again? Let's go and do it.
I'm not... not your friend, and I'm not your friend.
Thank you.
That's a pleasure.
Thank you.
Done. I'm done, I'm done.
- Thank you. - Let's go have a good look at that wall.
Four more constituents. How many do you think are going to be like that?
OK, hang on.
Also the committee got leaked and that leak came from your department.
I want a head on a plate, to go.
You're not my boss. Er...fuck off!
You can't make me sack people.
Why does she want someone sacked?
Ah, she said there's a leak...
The detail of the committee meeting in America was made public.
There shouldn't have been as many people there.
Right, and who does she want sacked?
- Somebody from our office. - Right.
Let's forget it. Come on, next person.
- Could it have been Judy? - Probably.
- Judy, can you come into my office, I need a word?
One second. Tobes, that's for you.
What is it?
- It's that madman about the wall. - The war?
Wall! Eugh.
Will you please come into my office so I can give you a bollocking?
- Yeah, OK, OK, what? - Hello.
- Argh! Fucker! - I want a word with you.
And you, Charlotte fucking Brontë.
What can I do for you, Paul?
You know those buttresses that you had put up for the wall?
They are utterly insubstantial
to even the untrained eye, and I'm looking at them.
And my eye's trained.
No, I get that, I do... I understand that.
If that wall collapsed and my mother was in the greenhouse,
that could crush her to death.
Do you know how old she is? Tell the reporter how old you are.
I'm 60.
She's 60... You're not fucking 60!
If it's going in the newspaper, I'm 60.
Olivia Newton-John's 60 and she's not on the fucking statins, is she?
- I didn't leak anything. - Don't you fucking walk out on me.
- I'm just getting my tea. - Let her get a cup of tea.
Could you just get your mum to stay away from the wall for the time being?
She can't stay away, she's got to water her plants.
Could she maybe do it with a hose, from a distance?
She's got a watering can!
Calm down, Paul, calm down.
I'm not... I'm fucking Zen.
I've brought my nunchucks if you need them, sir.
See how the meeting goes.
12:30.
Hold on. General?
Yeah... Secretary Linton Barwick asked me to let you know
that his last meeting looks like it's overrunning,
He sends his apologies.
When will he be here?
I don't have that information at this moment.
What the fuck?
Huh?
- Did he stand me up? - No, no, sir.
- You're more than welcome to wait. - Do you know what I'm going to do?
I'm going to take a nice big shit on his desk,
just to let him know that I was here. Is that OK with you?
I don't think he'd like that too much, sir.
You can wait. We have some very interesting periodicals.
- There's um... - Oh, yeah.
You want me to read a periodical at this time of national crisis? Huh?
Sit here with my thumb up my ass reading a paper?
Finding out what? Which little starlet fucked some guy this week?
No, I wasn't suggesting that, sir.
Give this to your boss.
Yeah.
Get out of my way.
Oh, my God. What's up?
Fucking Linton stood me up.
He's playing me like a turkey stick on a bass drum.
Do you know where he is? He's playing squash.
With this little fucking twit?
No, not with... No, that's Chad.
He just carries that every day, because he's hoping to play squash.
I was going to eat lunch in here. Can you digest? Do you want some food?
Oh, yes, I can digest, yes.
Chinese OK?
Why don't you order me some little mammals?
A little bunny and a little puppy, and a little cat,
so I can twist their fucking neck off and drink their blood.
My, my. All right.
While Foster jets around at the taxpayers' expense,
his constituency wall is collapsing and he doesn't give a shit.
It doesn't say that?
No. But it does say "Wall-ace And Gromit".
Wall-ace, though.
You're being portrayed as the biggest twat in Northamptonshire.
I've got bigger fish to fry, believe me.
I'm giving this to somebody else. Jamie!
Ah, the crossest man in Scotland.
Well, if it isn't Humpty Numpty.
What is this? Surround bollocking?
Hey, with due respect, I hadn't finished.
If it isn't Humpty Numpty sitting on top of a collapsing wall
like some clueless egg cunt.
Now, I'm finished.
Hi, Jamie, this is Toby.
Oh, um...Toby Rice, I'm Simon's aide.
Hi, Toby, Toby. Very pleased to meet you. Please sit down.
Now, right, that's enough of all the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries.
- What's Oxbridge about saying hello? - Shut it, Love Actually!
Do you want me to hole punch your face?
Right, I'm off to deal with the fate of the planet.
Be gentle with them.
Oh, you know me, Malc. Kid gloves... but made from real kids.
Right, Butch and Gaydance, this wall story is playing badly.
There's a cartoon of you in here as a walrus.
A walrus?
I'm not fat, I don't even have a moustache.
Fuck, they've given me tusks.
- Wal-rus. - Yes, I know.
You get it? Wal-rus, wal-rus.
We called some builders. They didn't turn up when they said they would.
What did you expect?
They're builders!
Have you ever seen a film where the hero is a builder?
No, no, because they never fucking turn up in the nick of time.
Bat-builder? Spider-builder? Huh?
That's why you never see a superhero with a hod.
You know, my theory is Malcolm built him in a lab
out of bits of old psychopath.
Hello, ladies.
OK, well, I'm just going to go to the bar.
Good idea, we're on the Sancerre.
- If you can afford that. - If you can get served at the bar.
- Yes, thank you, Oscar Wilde. - He might not get served, bless him.
Toby's got a message. Hang on.
What's that?
- Oh, fucking wow, I don't believe it. - What?
I don't fucking... I don't believe it, he's done it again.
Little shit, he's such a shit.
What?
- Here he is. - There you are.
The finest Sancerre in the Westminster reach.
So, this Liza, you shagged her, yeah?
What? No.
Were you aware he was ball-deep in some Washington wonk?
- Suzy! - I didn't know anything about his balls.
Can we not discuss my balls and accusations in...
Just tell me why. Huh?
I don't know, Suzy. It was very weird over there, very intense.
Right.
Maybe, I don't know, on some level, subconsciously,
it was like a... it was just... it was a last-ditch attempt to...
..stop this...awful war, you know?
Just on a... I mean, you know, I don't mean, obviously, to try..
- Wow. - That's classic.
...to try and actually stop it.
Toby, did you just say that you had sex to stop the war?
No, no, no.
An anti-war shag? Is that what you thought, Toby? Because, that's... Wow.
Can we just go and discuss this
somewhere where there aren't enormous children eating snacks?
He's got his little cannons and he's got his little guns, and...
..this is the problem with civilians wanting to go to war.
Once you've been there, once you've seen it,
you never want to go again, unless you absolutely fucking have to.
It's like France.
Is there anything besides this to eat?
Have something else. This has got a little protein, have that.
What's this, fish ass?
- So, you read Liza's paper, I guess? - Yeah,
I'm a voracious reader.
I am the Gore Vidal of the Pentagon.
Gore's gay.
No, he's not.
I beg to differ, but...
He's gay? Because I've been saying that Gore Vidal line.
He is gay.
Guess, I'd better stop saying that, then.
It's ridiculous.
The case against war is far stronger than the case for war
and the case for war is caveated all to hell.
"Most analysts believe the state is looking
to expand aggressively beyond its borders."
Then you look down the caveats. "The only source is "Ice Man".
A possible alcoholic" - he probably does ten bags of methamphetamine a day.
The Ice Man.
If he even exists.
"The INR says we can't trust him." We're disputing our own intelligence.
We should leak this, you know.
When do you wanna leak it?
Me?
- Isn't that what you were suggesting? - No.
You don't have to say that it came from you.
No, I'm not leaking it.
Liza looks good today.
- I mean, has Linton read this thing? - I don't think Linton reads.
- Why don't you give it a couple of weeks to settle down?
- Oh, great, just what we need. Old Anti-war Fuck is back.
- What the fuck's Cocoon doing here? - What are you doing here?
- Well, I live here. - Well, you don't, actually, Toby.
- Want another cup of tea, Michael? - Yes, please. I'd love one.
OK, right, I'm taking all my stuff from the kitchen.
- Do you want me to go? - No, you stay there.
He's just getting his brie and his peri-peri.
- Do you want me to help him pack? - And certainly my quince paste.
Quince paste, he's such a prick.
Just going to gather up his shit clothes.
Shut up.
That's not how you fold them.
I'm not going to fucking Fiji, I'm getting chucked out of my house.
They're all going in bin liners.
It makes all the difference at the other end.
There is no other end, that's the point.
- Has she got big tits? - Oh, Christ alive.
Yes, actually, she has. She's got massive tits. Yes.
Look them up on Google Earth. They've got their own postcode.
They're so enormous that they actually
suck in other tits from the surrounding area.
Like you?
Thanks. See you, then.
OK.
Um...
Suzy, this is probably going to sound a bit odd under the circumstances, but...
A quickie?
No. Thank you, but no.
It's about Liza.
Liza wrote a paper, it's called PWIP PIP.
- PWIP what? - PWIP PIP.
Who wrote that? Charles Dickens?
- Post War Planning Implications... - Yeah, all right.
Right. I think, it could, if it was leaked, stop this kind of rush towards a war,
you know, too quickly, that sort of thing.
- Just if it was leaked. - You are such a coward.
Take your backlog of Mojo and your shit clothes,
and your eighth of dope and your flute and piss off.
OK, I'll just leave it there.
- I need advice myself. - Let's take care of the car.
This should not be here. This should not be here.
Sir. Everyone.
- The car is ready? - All taken care of, sir.
- I'm handling travel. - Why are people running around?
This had better be a fucking fire drill.
The President just announced he's vetoing tariffs on Chinese auto imports.
That means, right, he's buttering the Chinese up?
That he needs the Chinese to at least abstain on the Security Council.
OK, so we're going to the UN.
- Yes, we're going to the UN. - Shit.
Why didn't you tell me, Liza?
Since I created the budget deficit,
the President doesn't tend to run things by me any more.
Don't get funny with me. I am not in the mood to joke.
I'm... I'm getting that.
If you say we're leaving in ten minutes that means we're leaving right now.
Not that I don't trust you, but I don't trust you.
I am gonna go into Linton's office
and I'm gonna pull the little pin on that fucking grenade.
- Don't do that. - I'm fucking joking.
I'm not gonna do that.
We have an elevator waiting for us.
Good. Step in, thank you very much, just...
I just...
This job is incredibly stressful, you know that?
Simon, you're not a lion tamer,
you're not a snooker player.
I don't want to back a war, Judy.
Look, put some hints out there, put some nods and some winks out
that I'm toying with resignation, OK? See if the PM reacts.
- You want me to put out some winks? - And nods, yeah.
What? Big nods?
No, no, just sort of... that sort of size nod.
OK.
No, no, that's much too big.
I'm just nodding normally to say I understand the need for a small nod.
Oh, yeah. No, no, sorry, yeah.
All right now, my lovely friends, the bottom line is...
Oh, God, I hate that phrase. "Bottom line."
I mean, we're not in retailing.
Sorry. Michael's quite right. I won't use that again.
The bottom line is the President is going to the UN.
This will be the vote to commence military intervention.
And the Prime Minister has decided that we should join him.
Rob, Innis,
Little Bo Cock Jockey and the Leakey Fucking Mingebox,
go back to your desks
and prepare to start briefing now.
Michael, do you mind if we use your office?
- What? - For a couple of minutes?
Yeah. Michael, sorry. Bottom line is, can you come out again?
- Um...might need to turn the music off.
Yes.
- Right. - OK.
So, this is all going to spin along from here.
We're going to have a vote and go to war.
We'll fight people, kill them. Our children will get killed.
This is exactly the sort of thing
that I didn't want to do when I went into politics.
This is the opposite of what I wanted to be doing.
That's why you have to stay in Government, to influence things.
In here, you can influence things, you can delay things.
Out there, you're just another
mouthy, shouty mad fucker who people don't want to make eye contact with.
Remember Mary? Remember what happened? She took a stand on health.
Everybody decided that she was mental.
Because The Sun showed a picture of her
with wide eyes and her head on a cow.
I happened to find that a particularly powerful image.
Look...the Prime Minister of this country,
he's not a fucking Viking, is he?
He doesn't drink blood.
He doesn't go around biting tramps.
I know the Prime Minister isn't a Viking, Malcolm.
Unlike me, he abhors physical violence.
Where is the intelligence, the hard evidence?
We have got the fucking intelligence.
- I haven't seen it. - The intelligence we've got is so deep,
so fucking hard, it'll fucking puncture your kidneys.
Where's it coming from?
There is an informant.
Ice Man.
Ice Man?
I don't name them. Ice Man. Yeah.
And the fact is, the stuff that he's given us is...
I've seen it.
It would make your blood run cold
and clot and turn your insides into fucking black puddings,
but certain box lickers
are sitting on it, but you're going to see it,
because the PM regards you
as a key player in this now.
Simon, the Prime Minister wants to speak to you in ten minutes.
He wants you to go to the UN.
OK.
See? You're on the A list now.
You're there in the VIP lounge. You're a fucking Kennedy.
Yeah, Malcolm...
You've got the gold card, the complimentary drinks,
the fucking hard on.
Show me the evidence - my bottom fucking line.
Don't you start, as well.
Should I resign?
I floated that I might, then I thought l wouldn't, so it'll look convincing if I did.
I mean, do you think, is it braver to just resign
and say, "No. No war"?
- Yes. - Or...
is it braver...
..to say, "I don't agree",
and just grit my teeth and get on with it?
No.
Is the really brave thing actually doing what you don't believe?
No.
Maybe.
Because...
What's actually brave about doing the right thing?
Nothing.
You know, doing the wrong thing is...
is... is braver,
in a way, isn't it?
And wars do sometimes work.
That erm...
the War for Independence.
You know, that worked for the Americans, didn't it?
And...erm...
The Second World War.
I know, it's not... It wasn't a good idea, millions died.
No, no, I know what you mean.
The Crimean War. We got nurses out of that.
- Nurses are good. - Yes. Exactly.
So, right, well, no, exactly.
So...
You're not resigning?
In the motorcade, can we get a car without Judy, please?
You want hookers? You like hooky fucky, sir?
No, I don't want...
- I want to talk about resigning. - What again?
Yes, but with you and not her.
So, the wires are all currently reporting that you're going to resign over the war.
What? That's not supposed to get outside.
Well, it is outside. It's lurking outside, like a big hairy rapist at a coach station.
Do you know, if I could, I'd fucking punch you into paralysis.
So, you must be Simon. I'm the British Ambassador to the UN,
Sir Jonathon Tutt.
Well, this is it, ladies and gentlemen. This is the United Nations.
We, sir, are in here.
So, if there's anything you need, just give me a whistle.
You know how to do that, don't you? What do you do?
Hm? That's right. You put your lips together and you blow.
I'm going to head up to this delegates' reception.
I hope there's some nibbles, because I'm ravenous.
Nibbles. Who still says "nibbles"?
Fuck the nibbles. What was with the homoerotic tension?
OK. Your phone is off, but there's been a catastrofuck here.
Someone's leaked Liza Weld's PWIP PIP paper to the BBC.
Jesus Christ!
Ah, there we go.
I reckon it's going to be on the six o'clock news, one o'clock your time.
That is going to fucking fist your UN vote to death.
Hey, you! Freeze!
Right. Missing you loads. PWIP PIP toodle-oo.
I want a fucking word with you.
OK, Jamie, two jobs.
Job one. Find the PWIP PIP leaker and kill them. Job one has two parts.
Job two. Go to the BBC and find out who's got it there.
We need them to delay till after the vote. Yeah?
I love you.
Excuse me, I need a word with you.
Do not move from here or I'll fucking stab you.
OK.
- Right. Was it you? - No, it wasn't.
No. What?
- You know what I'm talking about. - No.
And... And...whatever it was,
I almost certainly didn't do it.
- You, the baby from Eraserhead? - No, no.
Then it must be you, woman from The Crying Game.
It wasn't me.
You've really got it in for me, haven't you?
Listen, somebody has dropped a bollock in the noodles here.
- And I reckon it was you. - Oh.
- Nice logic. - Yeah, no, that sounds possible.
Will you just keep your nib out?
Psychologically speaking.
- Springer spaniel head. - It's plausible.
You might have built up a resentment and paid it off in some underhand way.
That's a thing I've observed people do.
Observe that.
- Right, Baldermort. - Bloody hell, Malcolm.
Excuse us.
We are in a new reality here.
- OK? - Right.
And I need you to speed things up.
OK. Speed what up, Malcolm?
- The debate. - Right.
I need you to bring it from 130pm to 11 am.
Right. Let me tell you how the process works here and why that's not possible.
Just fucking do it, otherwise you'll find yourself in the Caucuses,
in a Medieval fucking war zone,
arse in the air, trying to persuade men in balaclavas
that sustained sexual violence is not the fucking way forward, OK?
It cannot be done and it will not be done. There's an end to it.
Ok, I'll do it. Through here?
You will not do it because that is a breach of protocol.
- Well, you do it. - No, I will not do it.
- In there. Do it. - I'm not dancing with you on this.
- Get through there and do it, now. - I'm not.
Right...well...
Erm...everyone, if I could just...
Is this...
Can you hear me?
I just wondered if we might er... ask for a...
..a cheeky early vote,
a sort of a little bit of an adventure.
Yeah, we've got to plug that leak.
I don't know what else they've got and where's this intel?
Are you sure you're working as hard as me? I'm sweating spinal fluid here.
I'm a fucking husk.
Jesus.
- Got everything you need? - Yeah. Yeah, thanks.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
General Flintstone.
Was it you?
Did you leak PWIP PIP?
I mean, I know you can't fire a gun, but can you use a fax?
No, I didn't leak PWIP PIP. I do everything up front. OK?
Not like some creepy little gay mercenary that sneaks around
doing other people's dirty work.
Hey, I am doing my own work.
I'm doing my job.
No, you're doing Linton's dirty work.
You're his English bitch and you don't even know it.
I bet if I went into your hotel room tonight, I'd see you on all fours,
little fishnets on, him hanging onto the back of you.
Oh, that's nice, that's nice.
That's tough talk coming from a fucking armchair general.
Why don't you put your feet up on a pouf and go back to sleep?
Tucker, you might be a scary little poodle fucker, back there in London,
but here you're nothing.
You know what you look like?
A squeezed dick.
You've got a little blue vein running up the side of your head.
See, that's where I'd put the bullet.
But I'd have to stand back, cos you look like you'd be a squirter.
Have you ever, even actually...
..killed anybody, I mean, really?
Yeah.
Falling asleep on someone. That doesn't count.
That's good. That's good.
How about you, pussy drip, ever kill anybody?
Maiming is what I prefer, psychologically.
Why don't you try to maim me?
I'll hit you so hard in the face, you'll be shitting teeth.
Go right ahead.
I can see the headlines right now.
"Peace-loving general starts fight at the UN. Swiss intervene."
I don't know, I'm not an expert on spin, but that could hurt your career.
Yeah?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Now, do excuse me.
I've got work to do.
Don't ever call me fucking English again.
- Suzy, well done.
This is absolutely superb.
Hey, horse of the year, was it you?
- Was what me? - Answer the fucking question!
Was it you?
Was what me, Jamie? I have no idea what you're talking about.
She can't answer the question, can she? Unless she knows what it is.
You...
leaked Liza Weld's paper to the BBC, right?
Now, tell me you leaked it.
No, I didn't. I didn't leak it.
I know...
the leak came from in here.
From...
this fucking fax machine right here.
No. There's no... There's no way.
Do you see...
what I'm doing to this machine?
- Jamie, don't. - See?
Jesus Christ!
Fuck, Jamie.
You see how...angry I am with the...
piece of office equipment that leaked this document?
Huh?
Michael.
Can you even imagine how angry I am with the person who leaked it, can you?
- That's really...expensive, Jamie. - Can you, Suzy?
Jamie, it was me.
Oh, don't come over all fucking Spartacus on us now.
- I leaked it. - What are you doing?
No, hang on, hang on. For a start...
turn that fucking racket off!
- Turn it off. - It's just vowels.
Subsidised foreign fucking vowels.
The only reason you listen to this shit is because it's bad form
to actually wear a hat that says,
"I went to private school."
So, tell me now, right.
- Who did you leak it to? - I just sent it.
I read it, I thought it was important, so I sent it.
Good. Fine. See that fax?
Yes.
That is your career.
And I think it might be fucked, but let's just check.
Yeah, yeah, it's pretty fucked.
Now, I hope you can play the spoons.
You're too old to go back to being a gentleman's fluffer.
Simon? Simon.
Congratulations. I didn't think you had it in you.
Hi.
- This is great, Simon. - He's resigning.
- Have you seen it? It's a good picture. - Oh.
- They're running with that? - In a very big way.
I didn't say that.
What?
- What? - You're not resigning?
Are you still playing the hawk?
In a way, it's... I'm playing a much cleverer game than that.
I'm a...
I'm a fake hawk.
A what?
A fake hawk.
You're an idiot.
Or are you being a fake idiot?
So, we float it, anyway, tell the press that he confirmed to us he's resigning.
- That's what we'll do, then. - What?
- It's decided, then. - Sorry. No, it bloody isn't.
I'm me. OK?
You're not me.
I decide about all the main things about me.
- Not any more. - Not you, me.
Simon, the only thing that we can do to influence events now is to resign.
That's it, OK?
- Sacrifice ourselves. - Like a suicide bomber?
No, not like suicide bomber. A suicide bomber makes a decision.
Are you OK?
I'm thinking of becoming a suicide bomber.
Right.
- Would you like a mint? - No.
They're really not that good for the teeth, you know, rots them slowly.
- Do you like me, Judy?
Well...you're my boss, you know.
But do you really like me?
Yeah.
I'll... I'll just leave you to your thoughts.
OK?
I haven't got any thoughts.
I'm just staring vacantly into space.
While a distant voice in the back of my head goes,
"Oh, shit",
like a car alarm, in the middle of the night.
Why? Has Jamie been round?
- Because he's... - This is you, isn't it?
Suzy, can I phone you back in a few minutes for a further bollocking?
I'll just deal with this one here.
I have got something really, really big in my career lined up for me
and you're going to fuck it up because of this leak.
What did you...? What would be fucked up?
Chad, I don't need to tell you anything.
I want to tell you a story.
When the Titanic went down, there were lifeboats.
They had extra room on them and there were people in the water.
Some people on the boats just wanted room to stretch their legs,
but people in the water froze and that was on their conscience.
You talk entirely in parables. You're like a crap Jesus.
Tread lightly. OK? You are fucking with the wrong person.
- Oh, really? - Yes. I've got this town on lockdown.
We're both and so...
- Fuck you all. - A common enemy.
Hello.
Hello!
Hello, Paul.
- Guess what's happened to my wall? - Could you hold on just a second?
The Vice President's... Doesn't matter.
Of America. Yes. That one.
So, we're getting a little close to the wire, Mr Tucker.
Where is that intel, huh?
What sort of intel have you rustled up?
- Ah, the smoking intel? - Yeah.
Well, honestly, I haven't got it.
You haven't got it?
All right. OK.
Well, then, can you delay the vote? It'd give you the time to get it.
I've just had it brought forward.
Sorry, I'm just erm...getting my mints.
I am telling you, delay the vote
and make yourself some time to get the intel, because I need it, my friend.
Hey. OK. Just a quick reality check here,
J Edgar Fucking Hoover, I don't work for you.
You don't fucking tell me what to do.
OK. Firstly, don't raise your voice.
This is a sacred place.
Now, you may not believe that and I may not believe that,
but, by God, it's a useful hypocrisy.
And, secondarily,
I believe your Prime Minister has instructed you to work for me.
Take your sweeties and fuck off.
Oh, the great Malcolm Tucker.
One of your guys leaks a paper. You can't do anything.
Huh? We tell you to get some intel. You can't do anything.
I need you to move the vote back. You can't do anything.
I am afraid you are nothing but a useless piece of
S star-star T.
What the fuck do you want?
Erm...sorry, I...
I've just heard that the constituency wall has started to collapse.
A brick's fallen out. Well, that's the news I'm getting, at the moment.
There'll be more to follow.
News and bricks.
My God, that sounds important. Take care of that, Mr Tucker. Yes?
I think that's more your speed.
I can see you, with your shirt off and a wheelbarrow, whistling a happy tune.
Get on that.
You work for him?
This is very fucking complicated stuff.
After the vote...
.. I resign.
Oh, fuck off!
Resigning?
How fucking impressive!
Resign. The horse has bolted. It's out there now. It's getting fucking shot!
I'll see you later, Malcolm.
You...
You repeat...
one word of what you have heard here
and I'm going to fucking take your leg off... I'll fucking...
The shin bone.
I'm going to take the shin bone, I'm going to break it in two
and I'm going to fucking stab you to fucking death with it, right?
So, just... just...
go away.
Go away.
Hi. BBC News Desk, please.
Malcolm Tucker.
Hi, Ben.
Listen, I hear that you might be preparing a story that we might not like.
- Yeah, please. - Ow!
I just wanted to say, please, this garden-wall story, don't run with that.
Ow!
Simon Foster's constituency office wall.
That's what you've got, haven't you?
Oh, shit. I haven't let the cat out of the bag, have I?
Please, don't run with that. My reputation will be in tatters.
- Ow! - And he is gone!
My hand is really quite badly scalded now.
I know it was you who leaked Linton's war committee.
Oh. Right. Erm...
- It wasn't. - It wasn't?
That's what you'll say
when they fly you to Diego Garcia and carry out a cavity search?
I don't actually recall.
It was a very busy time.
That's better. OK.
I am putting you on a probationary period
from today, until the end of recorded time.
- All right. - Do you understand?
- Yes. - You're my guy now. Right?
I own you. You are my Kunta Kinte. Go and get your fucking laptop.
Mr Ambassador, with your big, baldy head, you are spoiling us! A word?
Excuse us, just for a second.
I'm pleased to be able to tell you that, by some huge effort on my behalf,
I've brought your vote forward by an hour and a half. Say "thank you".
- Great. Well, I need it delayed now. - Very funny.
By an hour, at least.
Well, actually, two and a half hours, now that you've brought it forward.
No. I will not put myself through that humiliation again. I'm just not doing it.
Right. What can I say? Erm...
Ah, right, Frank and Nancy Sinatra. I've got good news for you.
You're not fired. That's great news, isn't it?
- Well, it sounds ominous. - We want to get Liza Weld's PWIP PIP
out there properly, in the public domain.
We just need to refine it a bit.
- What do you want to refine? - Just mess it up.
Move the paragraphs. Change the name of the main informant.
- Well, that's a complete fabrication. - Changing his name doesn't matter.
Do you think he's really called Ice Man? Huh?
"To Mr and Mrs Man, a son... Ice."
- So, change it to another name. # Sonata for Violin and Piano
What's the name of the fuck with the fiddle?
- This happens to be Debussy. - Debussy.
- Well, we'll change it to Debussy, then. - No, we will not!
Now, your prints are gonna be all over this, Michael,
but that's the only way you can save your job, you leaky fuck.
- Don't make me do this. - It wasn't him.
Somebody must have come in there and used the fax machine.
- It could have been anyone. - Fax machine?
Ah, no! Don't worry about that.
No, I made that up.
No, the document was leaked by e-mail.
It's just, the fax machine was there, and it's easier to kick.
Come on, Thick White Duke!
- Don't shout at... - Come with me.
Right, OK. Is it up? Have you got it up?
Yeah, it's all fine.
OK. Cut the top paragraph and paste it into page 5.
Right, yeah, we've done it.
Page 6 - get rid of the footnotes.
Done.
- Go to page 9. - Go to page 9.
Highlight from that page to the end of the document.
- Go on, do it. - The caveats?
- OK. Delete. - Right, OK, we're doing it. Delete it.
You can't delete the arguments against the war.
Oh. There's a shake of the head here, Malc. I think he's crashed.
Give him a thump - that usually works.
Let me try a wee bit of manual override.
Let's see if it is possible to delete the arguments against the war.
Hey! You could delete it, after all. It's done.
Great. Now, attach that to an e-mail.
Yes, done it. Done it.
Let's find a printer.
- Right. - The Japanese. They'll have a printer.
- Well, we can't just present it like this. - No, we can't.
Go and get me a blue folder.
- Well, OK. Where from? - I don't know.
Do I look like I've ever set foot in a fucking stationery cupboard? I do my all my shagging in five-star hotels.
Just take out all the conditionals.
Like, "might" becomes... Instead of "might have found", "have found". OK?
Be audacious. Just re-write the whole damn thing.
Ohh...
- Declarative sentences - that's what I want.
- Take 'em all out. - Linton, come here.
- What is it? - The intel your guys couldn't find.
Yeah?
I think that I am owed a massive, grovelling apology.
Congratulations, huh?
Maybe they'll give you a knighthood.
A pleasure doing business with you.
You know, I've come across a lot of psychos...
but none as fucking boring as you.
I mean, you are a real, boring fuck.
- Sorry. I know that you disapprove of swearing. - No, that's all right.
So, I'll sort that out. You are a boring F star-star cunt.
- Are we pretty much... - Everything as you requested.
Fine. Good. Ah, welcome aboard, Liza.
I will make this brief and to the point.
We're gonna go in, we're going to state our case,
with new British intelligence from source Debussy,
we win the argument, we get the hell out. All right?
Resolution 2238 is passed.
- Yeah. That's that, then.
Yeah?
Jolly good. "That's that, then," is your line for the ages, is it?
What?
Well, I remember, the day that war was declared,
I turned to the Minister, and he said...
"That's that, then. Anyone want a mint?"
Piss off, Toby.
- How long before British troops... - Well done, Michael.
You did a really, really, really good job.
Oh, for fuck's sake, don't cry.
I e-mailed my resignation five minutes ago.
And yours should come pretty soon, for the biggest media impact.
- I've been thinking. - Yeah?
This has been the hardest political decision of my career.
I'm not going to resign.
Huh! What the fuck, George?
Before the war, I was going to resign,
but now that there's a war on... I can't resign.
You said that this was intolerable. You said we would go together.
It is intolerable, but I'm going to have to tolerate it.
And I still agree with myself on that.
But my loyalty is to the kids. I am a soldier.
You're not a soldier.
- I've been a soldier my whole life. - Yeah?
What do you mean, I'm not a soldier? I'm a soldier.
Look at the uniform - you think I'm one of the Village People?
When did you shoot a guy last?
Oh, not shooting someone in 15 years means I'm not a soldier?
You know, the Army doesn't make you drag some bloody corpse
into the Pentagon every five years, to renew your "soldier's licence".
It's unnecessary! And if you were a good general, you'd have some balls!
Look, shut up about my balls. My balls have been around.
You've got no idea where my balls have been.
I can talk about your balls all you want, cos I remember when...
Oh, I fucked you once 20 years ago, and I never hear the end of it!
Every time we're together, I hear this shit. I don't even remember it!
Come on, Chad. We have to draft resignation announcements.
Actually, I think I might stay with the General, if that's OK.
If he's staying, I might stay with him, see what assistance I can furnish.
OK...General Shrek and his faithful, talking donkey.
- That was nice. - OK, well done.
- What are you sticking around for? - Well, to let you know
that I think you've got...
..big balls...
- It's like...two-thirds of the snowman. - Dear God.
- We did it, Bob, huh? - Yes, we did, sir.
There were a few moments where it got a little hairy.
No, there weren't.
No, no, no, Simon. No, no, listen.
Hey, hey, hey. Look, look, look. No, no, no.
- You still don't need to resign. - I do.
I'm resigning in an hour,
and there's nothing you can do about it now.
- Boss... - Yes?
Erm... it's all over the BBC News websites.
Partial collapse of the wall. Mrs Michaelson's greenhouse.
Obviously, a pane's been smashed.
The BBC must have had a crew down there.
God, how ridiculous!
And that's news?
It's not ridiculous.
It's not ridiculous at all... You're fired.
What?
Over the wall - I mean, that's just not tolerable.
It's a fucking wall, Malcolm.
Look. Give me the paper.
The Telegraph has a cartoon of you teetering on the Great Wall of China,
suggesting you are the only political fuck-up visible from space.
Look at this. Look at it.
No-one could survive this.
The PM's very clear about this. You're sacked - over the wall.
- No. - Yes!
No. You-You-You haven't even spoken to the Prime Minister.
I-I-I have.
You fucking haven't! I've been here in front of you.
I have spoken to the PM. Whether it happenedor not is irrelevant. It is true.
And he was very clear - you've got to go.
Ha!
If you think I'm going quietly, Malcolm...
..you've... you've made a mistake.
Well, if you want to turn this into some anti-war protest,
expect to hear your "mountain of conflict" sound-bite everywhere.
From ring-tones to fucking... a dance mix on YouTube.
And I will marshal all the media forces of darkness,
to hound you to an assisted suicide.
Right-ho. Let's just go and draft your... "Dear Prime Minster,
Just a quick note to say, 'Thanks for giving me the sack,"' letter.
Off we trot.
Come on, young Simon.
Erm...General Miller...sorry. I know this is an awkward time to be...
Go fuck yourself, Frodo.
OK.
You can fuck off yourself, then.
- Are you hanging, Chad? - Just... hanging.
- Wanna play some Facebook chess? - Yes, ma'am.
Just get away from the wall! What are you doing?
I just want a photo near the wall.
Yeah, you can go back another 12 inches. No, a bit further.
- There? - Stop there!
Check.
I haven't touched it.
- I made a move for you, which is the best move possible, and it's still...
- You might be Secretary of State some day, young man.
- You... Don't say that if you don't mean that.
- When, you know, all of this shit is over, maybe, you know...
You're a woman... I'm not a woman.
You wanna have sex again?
Well, would it be such a terrible idea?
You know - one more.
"One more for the Gipper."
Well, I don't want to be accused of micro-managing,
but I cannot understand why "I Heart Huckabees"
is on a list of DVDs considered suitable for armed-forces entertainment.
That self-indulgent crap is not suitable for combat troops.
I've got a selection of the quotations here for you.
I mean, they're all local building firms. Much of a muchness.
You know, to sort out the boundary wall.
But the... this septic tank...
That is rearing its pooey head again.
Yes.
I just got off the phone with Linton, who proceeded to bitch me out,
for allowing "I Heart Huckabees" on the troops' DVD roster.
Yeah. You know that phrase, "I'm too old for this shit"?
Well, I'm too young for this shit. You know?
- Here's the new Minister. - Malcolm!
- There she is. - Ladies and gentlemen.
- Look at you! - Thank you. Thank you. How touching.
- Minister, how are you doing? - Very well indeed.
- You've lost some weight. - Hello. Judy Molloy.
- Nice to meet you. This is Dan. - Danny. Dan. Special Advisor.
- Danny Dan? - War seems to be going great guns.
- Oh, very cheeky! Very cheeky. - Judy, have I got a desk out here?
- Careful. There's blood on the deck. - Er...yeah, sure. You can use that one.
- How about this? You can't get better than this. Very glamorous.
- It's a side-step from my previous job, but that's fine.
I think there's a wee bit of brains there.
It's the only brains that he had, actually.
Nice to meet you, Dan. Where did you go to school?
- Erm...just a school in Jersey. - In Jersey?
- Is that actually Britain? - Yeah.
- I'm sorry, but I've been standing here for 20 minutes...
Let's see you.
Look at the hair on this. Who let this woman out with fucking hair like this,
on national television?
You'd think she's got her finger stuck in a fucking electric socket.
Unbelievable.