The Thick of It

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The Thick Of It is a British sitcom, satirising the inner workings of modern government, that is currently in its third series and stars Peter Capaldi as Malcolm Tucker. See also In The Loop, a spin-off feature film.

Contents

[edit] Series 1, Episode 1

Malcolm Tucker: He's as useless as a marzipan dildo.
Malcolm Tucker: I've booked you in for the usual soapy, tit-wank farewell at No. 10.
Cliff Lawton: You've told the Lobby that I'm going?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah. Sorry, Cliff.
Cliff Lawton: Minister.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, get used to 'Cliff'.
Malcolm Tucker: What did the Prime Minister actually say to you?
Hugh: He actually said this is exactly the sort of thing we should be doing.
Malcolm: SHOULD be doing. "Should" does not mean "yes".
Malcolm Tucker: You don't seem to understand that I'm going to have to have to mop up a fucking hurricane of piss from all these neurotics.
Hugh Abbott: I'm not quite sure what level of reality I'm supposed to be operating on.
Hugh Abbott: I want a new driver. Get me a new driver. I don't wanna see this guy ever again.
Glenn Cullen: On what grounds?
Hugh: Smiling! Inappropriate smiling! And smirking! Smiling and smirking! I don't wanna see that smile or smirk ever again, ok?

[edit] Series 1, Episode 2

Hugh Abbot: I work, I eat, I shower. That's it. Occasionally... I take a dump, just as a sort of treat. I mean, that really is my treat. That's what it's come to. I sit there and I think, "No, I'm not going to read The New Statesman. This time is just for me. This is quality time just for me." Is that normal?
Glenn Cullen: It's sad.
Hugh Abbot: He's calling me the political equivalent of the house wine at a suburban Indian restaurant.
Terri Coverley: We don't exchange insults with bloody Simon arsepipes titty-twat.
Olly Reeder: Is that honestly the best swearing that you can come up with?
Glenn Cullen: This is a bucket of shit. If someone throws shit at us, we throw shit back at them. We start a shit fight. We throw so much shit back at them that they can't pick up shit, they can't throw shit, they can't do shit.
Hugh Abbot: That's top swearing, Glenn, well done.
Olly: Watch and learn.
Malcolm: Ok, this is what we're doing. I'm putting it about through a number of cronies that Hewitt's piece was a packet of bollocks; he did it as a favor to Cliff.
Ollie: Cliff being...
Glenn: Cliff Lawton.
Malcolm: Hugh's predesessor. He and Hewitt are as tight as arse cheeks.
Hugh: Are they now?
Malcolm: Fuck knows, but that's what we're saying. It's personal, it's backslapping, it's borderline homoerotic, and you are an innocent victim of a nasty media stitch-up.
Glenn Cullen: It is, as my dear old mother would have said, double wank and shit chips.
Malcolm Tucker: It's damage control, ok. We put out the story the way we want it before Hewitt fucks us up the bugle.
Hugh: How fucked am I?
Olly: Well, you look awful, you look terrible. I mean, you often look quite bad, but...
Hugh: In terms of negative publicity. On the fuckometer, where am I?
Glenn: Oh, 12.
Olly: Yeah. 12, say.
Hugh: Out of what?
Glenn: Er... 50.
Olly: Oh. Mine was out of ten.
Glen: My gut still says no.
Malcolm: Yeah, well, substantial as they are, they've been outvoted.
Hugh: She's an actress.
Glenn: What do you mean?
Hugh: Well, I mean... No, there's no clearer way of saying it — she's an actress.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm good but I can't hold back the tide!

[edit] Series 1, Episode 3

Hugh Abbot: [Dictating a press release to Terri] "Following a successful report stage debate, Secretary of State for Social Affairs, Hugh Abbot, today announced, 'I'm the fucking daddy!'."
Dan Miller: If you're going to make an omelette, you're going to have to have some frank and honest discussion with the eggs.
Malcolm Tucker: [To Olly, talking about Angela Heaney] I'll just have to kill the both of you then, won't I?! That's a joke, by the way, not a very nice one, a nasty one, which masks a lot of very negative feelings about this fucking department.
Hugh: They should just clone ministers, you know, so we're born at 55 with no past, and no flats, and no genitals.
Hugh Abbott: [Sarcastically] What d'you want me to do? Resign?! [Sees the look on Malcolm's face] No!
Malcolm Tucker: It is possible to have a good resignation!
Hugh: A good resignation? Well, I'm looking forward to how you're gonna sell this to me!
Malcolm: Look, people really like it when you go just a bit early! You know; steely jawed, faraway look in your eyes! Before you get to the point when they're sitting round in the pub saying "Oh, that fucker's got to go!", you surprise them! "Blimey, he's gone! I didn't expect that! Resigned? You don't see that much anymore! Old school! Respect! I rather liked the guy! He was hounded out by the fucking press!" How about that, eh? What a way to go!
Olly Reeder: I'm just the counter man in McDonald's. You're the clown running the shop. You're the one that they want to see strung up from a lamppost by his fucking wig.
Glenn Cullen: What does that make me?
Olly: Ronald McDonald.
Glenn: Fuck off!
Malcolm: [To Olly] Feet off the furniture, you Oxbridge twat. You're not in a punt now.
Hugh: I've missed my ideal resigning point. With every day I delay, it's another year before I can get back again. If I had resigned the day I was appointed, I'd actually be prime minister by now.

[edit] Series 2, Episode 1

Hugh: How long since you've had sex?
Glenn: That is between me and my internet service provider.
Hugh: That was quite funny.
Glenn: I didn't think it was funny.
Hugh: I'm an elected representative of the people. It was funny.
Hugh Abbot: Robyn, all events are regional. Everything that happens in the world has to happen somewhere. Do you see? Even JFK's assassination was a regional event. But it was also very important. Like this factory visit.
Jamie: Have you seen the Whip's numbers?
Malcolm: NOMFuP.
Jamie: What?
Malcolm: NOMFuP. N-O-M-F-P. Not My Fucking Problem. I quite like that. Did you like that? I'll use that quite a lot today.
Malcolm Tucker:Y'know what's worrying me? Is this dodgy?
Jamie: I dunno, the kid's firm was the second lowest bid. He says they never talked, what does it matter?
Malcolm: Well, you know me, I'm a man of principle. I like to know whether I'm lying to save the skin of a tosser or a moron.
Jamie: Probably a moron.
Malcolm Tucker: Your're worse than dead meat. I don't know what you're laughing at. You're too toxic to even feed to the vultures.
Malcolm Tucker: How much fucking shit is there on the menu and what fucking flavour is it?
Malcolm: There is a difference between allowing someone's natural tittishness to come through, and just exploiting it through camera work here! You're sticking one tit moment on top of another tit moment. That wouldn't happen in real life.
Malcolm: Stats, percentages, international comparisons, information. E-mail them fucking wads of information. And tell them to get their heads around it before they put pen to paper, or I'll be up their arses like a fucking Biafran ferret, right? Come on, unleash hell!
Hugh: I know this is what they think people like me think, so I hate thinking it, but I just find myself thinking that they're from a different fucking species. You know, with their t-shirts and weird trousers and tabards. Why do they wear clothing with writing on it? And why are they so fat?
Jamie: Well, go, for fuck's sake, you big fucking prick! I'll cut your fucking ears off! We need it done.
Olly: When I met you this morning, I thought you were the nice Scot.
Malcolm: [On the phone to Olly] Have you sorted it, Olly?
Olly: It's not quite sorted just yet, Malcolm. It's difficult...
Malcolm: Shall I send Jamie over? Would you like that? You and Jamie and a rubber truncheon, locked in that fucking newsroom together.

[edit] Series 2, Episode 2

Malcolm: Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off.
Hugh: Well I'll come the fuck in then.
Hugh: Just thought you'd want to know as soon as possible. Terri's father... there's no news.
Malcolm: Oh, so you've come to talk about the reshuffle?
Malcolm: Don't take it personally.
Hugh: You're telling me she doesn't like me as a person. How else am I supposed to take it?
[Discussing Julius Nicholson]
Hugh: Can't we just kill him, shoot him?
Olly: What about we just fire him at a wall from a cannon. Just a wall two feet away.
Glenn: I know, we force feed him with a mixture of garlic and Dettol in Cup-a-Soup.
Hugh: What about the old red-hot poker up the arse? Edward II?
[Julius walks in]
Olly: I'd like to nail him to a tree through the head and watch lice slowly crawl over his body, eating off the flesh in a slow and painful death. But that rather bitter anomaly aside, most of the responses to the Warwick report press cuttings were pretty positive.
Hugh: [telling a joke at his party] And Julius, Julius Nicholson, says, ”I'm sorry but I think you'll find you're sitting in my seat.”
[No one laughs]
Hugh: And this was to God, as I mentioned in the setup. Anyway, have a lovely time.
Hugh Abbot: You saw me in there. I was swinging like a colostomy bag.
Hugh: Since when, Glenn, does the Secretary of State for Social Affairs have to find out from the fucking press that every morning at 8:30 I'm being fisted up to the gallbladder by a bald man?

[edit] Series 2, Episode 3

Olly Reeder: Who wants to go and watch bollockvision? Mr Malcolm Tucker, turning it all the way up to eleven, down in the lobby.
[The Department of Social Affairs has been renamed The Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship]
Glen Cullen: So, Hugh, this new word 'Citizenship', did the PM tell you what it meant?
Hugh Abbot: Honestly, I think he was making up the reshuffle as he went along. I think we're lucky that 'citizenship' was the first thing that came to mind. Otherwise we could have been The Department for Social Affairs and Woodland Folk.
[Olly has made a joke about special needs kids]
Hugh: You just took a shit with your clothes on, Olly.
Olly: Why?
Hugh: Glenn's boy, Peter, he went to a special needs school.
Olly: Oh.
Hugh: Yep.
Olly: Glenn's had sex?
Olly: I had a girlfriend with Special Needs once, actually. [Smiles smuttily] Fortunately, I was able to fulfil them.
Hugh: You're such a prick, Ollie.
Hugh: Christ, Malcolm, how do you appear out of nowhere in a building made entirely out of glass?
Malcolm: I'm a shapeshifter.
Hugh Abbot: It's going to be like sitting on a tea crate, having chicken shit sprayed all over me.
Miscellaneous Civil Servant: Can you stop swearing, please?
Malcolm: Oh, I'm terribly sorry, you won't hear anymore swearing from us you MASSIVE, GAY, SHITE! FUCK OFF!
Hugh: I categorically did not knowingly not tell the truth. Even though unknowingly I might not have done.
Hugh: I don't know what else can go wrong now. Unless the flexible energy system sets fire to my office and the puts it out by squirting liquefied human shit through the ceiling sprinklers.
Malcolm: Hey, I'm going to have a swear box installed on Monday.
Hugh: What?
Malcolm: Fucking joking, you twat! I'm on turbo.

[edit] Special 1- Rise of the Nutters

Ollie: Very powerful, very attractive sexually due to all this power-
Jamie McDonald: Ey, Poxbridge! Hey dickhead, Happy New Queer!
Malcolm: I'm really sorry, don’t be so offensive, I apologise for my friend’s behaviour. Did you have a nice Poofmas?
Ben Swain: [Talking about Australia] It's just the world's largest collection of poisonous things.
Ollie: God yeah, if you want to hang around with poisonous snakes you might as well stay here!
[Nobody laughs]
Ollie: [Ironically] Throw a blanket on me, I'm on fire.
Stuart: Just wondering whether you're fully conversant with the new line. Whether you're really up to speed?
Peter: Well, I don't know, am I? Because I get people stopping me in the street and saying "Are you still for locking up yobbos?" and I say "Yeah, of course we are!" and then I think 'Are we?' because maybe I missed a memo from you. Maybe I should understand yobbos, or not even call them yobbos. Call them young men with issues around stabbing
Malcolm Tucker: Did you ever travel, like, a 100 miles per hour head first through a tunnel full of pig shit?
Jamie McDonald: He will eat you up, set you out, and grout his fucking wet room with you.
Jamie: [During Ben Swain's Newsnight interview] The cameramen are laughing.
Malcolm: Pull it. Puncture his life belt. Pull it, give him the signal. If he shits I'll give you 500 quid.
Phil: [commenting on Ben's interview] This is like watching a lion rape a sheep--in a bad way.
Peter Manion: [reading a comment on his blog] You've always got such a pained expression. Do you take it up the chutney?
[Ollie's girlfriend has stolen his policy idea]
Malcolm Tucker: Your fucking girlfriend. Jesus Christ.
Jamie: You should have dumped that mad bitch ages ago.
Ollie: I would've done! She is mad! She's a mental woman! But you two kept telling me to go out with her in case I found anything out!
Jamie: Oh and what did you find out? That you've been leaking intelligence to them? You're the fucking shittest James Bond ever. You're David Fucking Niven.
Malcolm Tucker: The story isn't me, Glen, Ok? Nobody is interested in me and I would be pleased if you would remember that, ok?
Glen Cullen: You sure you don't want Hugh and me to come back? We could give you some cover.
Malcolm: Hugh is not coming back. It would look like we're panicking and we're not panicking. But I need you back here fucking ASAP to let them know that we're not panicking.
Glen: So you want me to interrupt my holiday in a panic so Hugh doesn't have to interrupt his holiday and look like he's panicking?
Malcolm: You get back here! I wanna see you popping a bollock for me!
Ollie: Malcolm, you're bullying me and... y'know...
Malcolm Tucker: How dare you. How dare you! Don't ever ever call me a bully. I'm so much worse than that.
Jamie: [To Peter Mannion] Which one were you? Were you the forced abortion or the love child? Or the one who asphyxiated himself with a kiwi?
Peter Mannion: Just the love child. I was the quiet one.
Malcolm: [to Ben Swain] You're like a sweaty octopus trying to unhook a bra.
Jamie: You take the piss out of Jolson again, and I will remove your iPod from its tiny nano sheath and push it up your cock! And then I'll plug some speakers up your arse and put it on shuffle with my fucking fist! And every time I hear something that I don't like, which will be every time that something comes on, I will skip to the next track by crushing YOUR balls!
Ollie: [To Phil Smith] I will so not sorry to not ever have to talk to you again you massive floppy blonde tit. I hope your blog gets done for libel and you get knobbed in prison by men.
Ollie: [To Emma Messinger] It is over, you self-serving, crypto-fascist, horse-loving, posh, weekend at daddy's, vacuous nothing!

[edit] Special 2, Spinners and Losers

Malcolm: Has anybody seen Jamie?
Ollie: Oh, don't tell me he's gone feral! 'cause he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash.
Malcolm: [On phone to Jamie] There is a fucking glacier of shit at DoSaC! I need you over there with a blowtorch right fucking now!
Malcolm: Shut it! You're using all the minutes on my Talk until you get head cancer tariff.
Ollie: [on the phone to Malcolm] Yes, fantastic actually, Malcolm. Because obviously I have a very suitable one tattooed on the underside of my scrotum.
Ben: What do you think?
Nick: To be honest I was really hoping that was going to be shit because, I'm tired, and I'd quite like to hit someone.
Jamie: I'm not leaving it to you, you couldn't organise a bum-rape in a barracks.
Malcolm: Au contraire.
Malcolm: If you do think about running with this pill story, I'll personally fucking eviscerate you, right? I mean, I don't have your education, I don't know what that means. But I'll start by ripping your cock off and I'll busk it from there. OK?
Malcolm Tucker: The Tom wobble; it's over.
Ben Swain: So what does that mean?
Malcolm: Well it means that the rats are now returning to a Very bouyant ship... and they're playing deck tennis. So that's lovely isn't it?
Ben: What does that mean for me, then?
Malcolm: I guess that means that you're standing in the chamber of the house of commons with your big flaccid dick hanging out with a Vote for me sticker on the end.
Ben Swain: But you said I had a chance! About half an hour ago you said I was in with a shot!
Malcolm: Well, half an hour you were in with a shot. This is half an hour hence! We've fucking time travelled, yes? We're in a weird and wonderful world where everything is different! Maybe outside the polar ice caps have melted, maybe there's fucking robots knocking about and Davina McCall's the new pope. Maybe you can download rice! I want you, right now, to think about your future, OK? Think about what you are doing! Get yourself back on the train to fucking Tomsville, yeah?
Malcolm: Tomorrow, from broadsheets to wank rags, I want pages one, two and three to be a profile of Tom looking like a fucking political colossus. Y'know: Tom meeting the Pope, Tom in an NHS hospital chatting to little, baldie kiddies. I want pages four and five to be a timeline of British politics with me at the center looking fucking indispensable and fucking benign. And I want page six to be... fucking Israel or some bullshit. Not a fucking DoSAC dipshit legacy-distracting Cockup!
Jamie: Hey, desperate housewives, have you found out who's leaking it yet?
Glen Cullen: I have. It's Julius! He just told me-
Jamie: No, no, no, wait, Julius? Nicholson?! That baldy pussy! Well, I'll tell you, if he thinks he's leaking now, wait 'till you see when I'm finished with him! He'll look like fucking Mel Gibson's Jesus FUCK!! FUCK FUCK!! FUCK!!
[Jamie has found out that Nicholson has leaked Immigration figures]
Jamie: Nicholson! The immigration shit. It was you, wasn't it? You Mimsy, Bastard, Quisling, Leak Fuck!
Julius Nicholson: [Smirking] Sorry.
Jamie: Yeah, you will be sorry! You inflatable cock! You sold us out didn't you?! Deny it!
Julius: Well, James, I can't deny something until I have the actual charge presented to me.
Jamie: You mean apart from the charge you're gonna get when I clamp jump leads to your baldy bollocks? OK, OK! You, Julius Nicholson, being of sound mind but with a body that looks like a giant sex toy did knowingly do us up the shit-hole by passing confidential information to the enemy! And I am going to have your guts as a skipping rope! And your lungs sundried and turned into a little fucking waistcoat!
Julius: Jamie, technically it was not a leak, because firstly-
Malcolm: Eat that prawn.
Julius: -there's not confidential-
Malcolm: Eat that fucking prawn.
Julius: I'm not eating prawns, Malcolm.
Malcolm: Eat that prawn. Eat a bit of fucking pizza. [throws half eaten pizza at Julius]
Julius: Don't be stupid.
Malcolm: Eat another prawn.
Julius: Stop it!
Malcolm: Have some fucking chow mein!
[Everyone else starts shouting and throwing food at Julius]
Glen Cullen: Fucking hell! Fuck! Jesus, I'm not a joke, okay, alright, hello? I am a man. I am a man, you know, you know?! This, THIS!!!! THIS IS MY LIFE!!!! I'M A HUMAN BEING, AND ALL THIS IS MY LIFE!! And, it's collapsing in front of me. You know, Tom's like that, they're never going to want me, are they? And fucking Hugh, now, he... Jesus Christ, this is all, I AM A MAN!!!!!! AND, NO YOU DON'T I'M IRRELEVANT!! NO, NO GO AWAY, I'm irrelevant, I'm irrelevant, I'm irrelevant! FUCKING HUGH JUST WANTS TO SPEAK TO TINKY WINKY?!! WELL FUCK TINKY WINKY, FUCK YOU TINKY WINKY!!! AUF WIEDERSHEN PET, THE PARTY'S OVER, GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD, WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HITLER?! WHY DID HE HAVE A MOUSTACHE AND HE LIVED OVER THERE?!! FUCK US ALL!!!!

[edit] Series 3, Episode 1

Malcolm Tucker: He’s making Paul Remington a Cabinet Minister. Remtard Remington. I mean the guy is an epic fuck-up. He’s so dense that light bends around him.
Malcolm: Come on people, let’s get going here! I’ve got a to-do list that’s longer than a fucking Leonard Cohen song.
[discussing the Cabinet reshuffle]
Terri Coverley: Oh look, Fatty's staying put! They're not moving Fatty.
Ollie Reeder: That's because they haven’t got five big blokes and a winch.
Terri: They couldn't really demote Fatty because he knows too much.
Ollie: Well he doesn't know where the Ryvita is kept, does he?
[on the phone to a colleague about how busy he is]
Malcolm: I've got more on my plate than a spinster at a wedding. That wasn't a reference to your daughter by the way, Andrew.
[later in the episode, on the phone again]
Malcolm: Doug Hayes is a massive abortion. Again, not a reference to your daughter.
Malcolm: Here he is! Cock like the Pink Panther's tail.
Doug Hayes: I'm afraid I turned it down, Malcolm.
Malcolm: Do you know 90% of household dust is made of dead human skin? That's what you are to me.
Malcolm: Get me Nicola Murray. Yeah, if she says no the only other candidate is my left bollock with a fucking smiley face drawn on it.
[Hugh has lost his place in the reshuffle]
Terri: It's so sad, isn't it - Hugh?
Ollie: You don't give a shit.
Terri: No, perhaps I don't.
Ollie: Who's Tom Rudd?
Terri: Isn't he in Harry Potter?
Glenn Cullen: Tom Rudd is army slang for standing up buggery.
[Glen and Ollie don't know if Nicola will keep them on]
Terri: Well, thank goodness I'm safe.
Glen: We know you're safe Terri! How do we know your safe? Because you keep using the word 'Safe' like you're bloody Jim Bowen!
Ollie: [Immitating Jim Bowen presenting Bullseye] You've got DoSAC, that's safe. Do you want to go for the treasury, young lady?
Terri: Well it was a bit of a shock for us. In a good way. Like twins or a tax rebate.
Nicola Murray: [On the phone to her husband] So, I'll take your warm congratulations as... implied.
Glenn:The thing is, and please Ollie correct me here if I’m wrong.
Ollie:I will certainly do that.
Malcolm: That's the sort of thing the press will throw at you. I mean you step out of line they'll be all over you like a pigeon on a chip, you know? Is that your chair?
Nicola: Oh God yes, it's cool isn't it. It's got lumbar support.
Malcolm: Bin it. People don't like their politicians to be comfortable. They don't like you having expenses. They don't like you being paid. They'd rather you lived in a fucking cave.
Nicola: Ok, fine. So what should I be sitting on? Should I just get an upturned KFC bucket?
Malcolm: A fucking normal chair, right. Not a fucking massive vibrating throne.
Malcolm: What's up with you? You look like you've shat a lego garage.
Malcolm Tucker: We send everyone up there to support Liam Bentley. Including the PM.
Aide: You want to send Tom up there?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, fuck it, he'll be alright. So long as he doesn't do the smile.
Nicola Murray: I don't really have a choice, do I?
Malcolm Tucker: Of course you have a choice. You can choose how you say yes. Do it with a voice, have fun with it.
Nicola Murray: [Pause] Yes. [Beat] In my own voice.
Malcolm: You hit the phones, right. I'll be with you in two shakes of a crying baby.
Malcolm Tucker: You are a human dartboard and Eric fucking Bristow is stepping up every day flinging a million darts of Human shit right at You.
Malcolm Tucker: (On Nicola sending Her children to a private school) You are quietly saying that all the public schools that this Government has improved are knife-addled rape sheds and You don't think that's a fucking big story?

[edit] Series 3, episode 2

Malcolm: Look, don't worry. The PM is not going to sack you after a week. Sacked after twelve months, looks like you've fucked up. Sacked after a week, looks like he's fucked up.
Nicola: I'm not doing terribly, am I?
[beat]
Malcolm: [Looking out window] I love the way they've sandblasted everything around here. It's so clean!
Malcolm: [To his driver] Pull in here. See if you can take out that cyclist on the way, I think he's Shadow Cabinet.
Robyn: Do you know, Malcolm, the best way to clear a paper jam?
Malcolm: I don't know... kill a kid an hour until it sorts itself out?
Ollie: [To Glenn] You can't overwrite minutes! Well, you specifically can't because you don't know how to unlock the pdf file.
Malcolm: [Nicola has revealed a DoSAC-caused catastrophe to an on-the-record journalist] FUCK'S SAKE! JESUS CHRIST! Well, now we've got another fuckin' adjective to add to fuckin' 'smug' and 'glum', haven't we? 'FUCKIN' RETARDED!' Jesus Chri-- Do you not think it would be germane to check who you're talking to? IT'S A FUCKIN' NEWSPAPER OFFICE! IT'S NOT A FUCKIN' SANATORIUM FOR THE FUCKIN' DEAF, IS IT? ARE YOU SO DENSE?! AM I GONNA HAVE TO RUN AROUND SLAPPING BADGES ON PEOPLE WITH A BIG TICK ON SOME AND A BIG CROSS ON OTHERS SO YOU KNOW WHEN TO SHUT YOUR GOB AND WHEN TO OPEN IT?! JESUS CHRIST! OH, BUT THAT'D PROBABLY CONFUSE YOU AS WELL, WON'T IT? THAT'D BE TOO CONFUSING, YOU'D SEE THE CROSS AND GO 'OH, FUCK, X MARKS THE SPOT! I'D BETTER TELL THIS LITTLE PERSON ABOUT THE PRIME MINISTER'S FUCKING CATASTROPHIC ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION!' Oh, but not to worry, not to worry. You've sent fuckin' Ollie over there to deal with it. FUCKIN' OLLIE! HE'S A FUCKIN', HE'S A FUCKIN, KNITTED SCARF, THAT TWAT! HE'S A FUCKIN' BALACLAVA!
Nicola Murray: You said yourself that if the PM sacks me after a week, it looks like he's fucked up.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, but that was before, when your biggest problem was a fucking shit pun in a newspaper and a face like Dot Cotton licking piss off a nettle.

[edit] Series 3, episode 3

John Duggan: How was your holiday?
Nicola Murray MP: Well, we wanted to go to Florida but Malcolm "suggested" that we go to Suffolk. So the kids were miserable, the weather was miserable and Malcolm phoned to shout at me for looking miserable.
John Duggan: Well, that's not strictly true.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, well Strictly Come Dancing isn't strictly dancing, is it? There's also a bit at the beginning when an old man dribbles.
Malcolm: I don't fucking hit women.
Ollie: Apart from Glen.
Malcolm: Listen mate I'm really, I'm really sorry right. I'm really sorry about what happened in the heat of the fuckin moment, yeah. I'm under a lot of pressure right now, I'm trying to plug a lot of leaks. I had my finger in the dyke but the dyke's very squirty.
Ollie: Is it Fat Pat. I've heard that she's...

[edit] Series 3, episode 4

Peter Mannion: [Regarding their visit to DoSAC] It's a straightforward series of meetings with the senior civil servants; "Where's the stop-cock?" "Where can I get a decent cup of coffee?" "Here's our Legislative agenda for the next three years."
Malcolm Tucker: [To DoSAC, regarding the Opposition] You tell them nothing except where the toilets are, but you lie about that.
Ollie: You having trouble with the Fourth Sector ring around?
Glen: No, not really. I ring people up, say "Do you think this is shite?" They say yes, I agree. Job done.
Malcolm Tucker: [walks up to Phil] Ok, Shitehead Revisited. Did you know that Nicola Murray's daughter is about to be expelled from school for fucking bullying?
Ollie: [to Malcolm] What are you doing?
Phil: No, what...
Malcolm Tucker: [to Ollie] Don't worry. [to Phil] Did you not know that?
Phil: No, why would I... No...
Malcolm Tucker: Of course you wouldn't know that, 'cause the only people who know that right now are Mrs. Murray, her daughter, Ollie and me, yeah? If this gets into the press, I would know they came from you.
Phil: Clever.
Malcolm Tucker: And I would rain down on you so hard, you would have to be reassembled by fucking air crash investigators. [Phil tries to protest] DON'T fucking interrupt me, son, ever. Now get this into the noggin, right. You breathe a word of this, to anyone, you mincing fucking CUNT, and I will tear your fucking skin off, I will wear it to your mother's birthday party, and rub your nuts up and down her leg whilst whistling Bohemian fucking Rhapsody, right?
Phil: [nods in shock] Yeah.
Malcolm Tucker: Now, get out of my fucking sight.
Phil: Yeah. [wanders off, visibly terrified]
Peter Mannion: [Discussing Malcolm] His bark's worse than his bite. [Sees Malcolm approaching] And speaking of rabies injections...
Malcolm Tucker: I didn't know you were still alive. How's the 80's tribute band? Still doing the Robert Palmer lookalike?
Peter Mannion: Malcolm. You're looking well... for someone twice your age. Any news on the aneurism?
Peter Mannion: [Answers his mobile phone] Ah, Stewart. What flavour of nut-brown piss are you going to pour in my ear?
Stewart: How's the info-pump firing?
Peter Mannion: You mean Terri Coverley? She's useless, she knows nothing. You two would get on.
Glen Cullen: Malcolm knows Mannion was here. Text reads "I know about your fucking meeting with that aging flamenco guitarist. You are NOT to go home. There has been an escalation." He wants you at Downing street "ASAFP."
Nicola Murray: The F standing for?
Glen: 'Feasibly' I should imagine.
Nicola Murray: You haven't got any whiskey, have you?
Malcolm Tucker: Sure. It's been there a while, it's still got Anthony Eden's lipstick on the bottle.
Nicola Murray: So it's Mannion. What we do? Do we go after him with... y'know, one of those things you say... like a big bum dildo of vengeance.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, Indiana Murray and the bum dildo of vengeance. I like it.

[edit] Series 3, episode 5

[Malcolm opens a box. It contains a cake decorated with the words "Happy Birthday C*nt"]
Malcolm: This could be from anyone. [Opens the accompanying card] It's from the Prime Minister. This is Tom's idea of a joke, and he wonders why we don't let him out in public.
[Terri is ogling Peter Mannion]
Peter Mannion: The stupid one keeps staring at me.
Phil: That's because she's a mentalist and she loves you. If you ever crash your car in the mountains, she'll be the one waiting to pull you out! Have you seen Misery?
Peter: I'm at the fucking BBC aren't I?
Glen: Do you mind? Some of us are trying to listen.
Phil: I can fill you in, Peter's tearing through her like a viking at a nunnery.
Malcolm: [Listening to the radio] Fuck me! This is like a clown running across a minefield!
Malcolm: [Over phone to Glenn] Are you producing porn for the visually impaired? Because what I'm hearing on my radio is Nicola Murray being roundly fucked.
Terri: For your information, I have done nothing!
Glenn: That will be your epitaph Terri.
Terri: The problem is that if you say to a journalist, "Can you avoid that topic?", that's when they really go for it. It's like saying to the school bully, "I'll wet myself if you tickle me."
[Olly throws a cup of coffee at Phil's groin]
Phil: It's only lukewarm and it's a dark suit. I still win!

[edit] Series 3, episode 6

Ollie: How are things at the department of education education education?
Ben Swain: They're going up the fuck-pump, Ollie, mostly because You are the Robin Hood of politics.
Ollie: Well, Robin Hood was a hero...
Ben Swain: No he wasn't! He was a bloody terrorist!
Ben: I'd have myself a sandwich, I'm fucking starving-
Malcolm: What did I fucking say? What did I just fucking say, I said one of the fucking times. Stand up. [Ben does not stand] I'm telling you to fucking stand up you sack of fucking cum, stand the fuck up! [Ben stands] Fucking move. Right! [Malcolm grabs a keyboard] See that?! Fucking play with that, right?! Never mind your fucking toys, play with that, [pushes Ben towards a corner] go stand in that fucking corner. Stand over there, right?! And do not move, or I will perform a fucking living fucking autopsy on you, with a fucking rusty spade and I'll have your kidneys for fucking cuff links!
Malcolm Tucker: This is a Lock-Down!
Nicola Murray MP: Oh come on, we're not in a prison drama are we?
Malcolm: We are in a prison drama. This is like The Shawshank Redemption, only with more tunneling through shit and no fucking redemption.
Nicola: [to Ben] Talking to you is like talking to a fucking whoopee cushion.
Ben: [to Noccola] It's not my fault you've dressed up like a dead geisha.
Nicola Murray: Why are you doing this?
Ben Swain: Because I'm bored, it's funny, and I hate you. There you are, the holy trinity of 'why'.
Nicola: For fuck's sake, Malcolm!
Malcolm: Shouldn't that be "Of fuck's sake"?
Nicola: What?
Malcolm: Can I just quote it to you? "The Prime Minister is the right man for the moment"
Nicola: Yeah, that's what you told me to say.
Malcolm: Of the moment! I said Of the moment! There is a huge difference between me saying "Nicola, I'd like to go for a walk with you" and "Nicola, I'm going to make a hat out of your entrails."
Nicola Murray MP: You're about as on the ball today as a dead seal.
Malcolm Tucker: Hey, that's one of my fucking lines!
Ben Swain: [On launching Nicola's Fourth Sector initiative] It's hard to smash a champagne bottle on a turd.

[edit] Series 3, Episode 7

[The team have had their first meeting with Steve Fleming]
Ollie: What would you call that? Obsessive Repulsive Disorder?
Malcolm: I fucking love Ghee, it's like freebasing butter.
Ollie: [On the phone to Malcolm, who's on holiday] Andy Murray, famous tennis player also lovely scotch... person - The new face of healthy eating. Nicola Murray, slightly panicky minister lady wonders if that's alright?
Malcolm: Yeah, yeah. Andy Murray, Andy Pandy, fucking Ghandi have a hand-shandy, whatever, just fuck off out of my life.
Ollie: [Hangs up. To Nicola] The man from Hell Monte, he say "Fucking Aye!"
[Glen accidentally spills a box of crime figures paperwork]
Ollie: Well, that's given us an unexpected headstart. Thanks Glen. I would kill you, but I'd have to add you to the fucking figures.
Glen: You want us to work all through the night on this?
Steve Fleming: It would be very much appreciated upstairs.
Ollie: I'm an atheist.
Malcolm: Sam, prepare my horse. I ride to DoSAC!
Steve Fleming: Everyone knows we don't get on. We are the Gallagher brothers of politics.
Malcolm Tucker: Does that mean that I'm the semi-talented songwriter and you're the fucking loutish prick?
Malcolm Tucker: [knock on door] Listen, if you're not a prostitute or a pizza guy, fuck off! [to Steve Fleming] Steve, listen, could you eat or fuck whatever's at the door on your fucking way out, please?
[reading a newspaper article on Malcolm]
Ollie: Hey! There's a reference to you here, Cullen. Alledged to have assaulted an elderly aide at a party conference.
Glenn Cullen: Elderly aide? That makes me sound like a fucking stairlift.
Nicola Murray: You're all over the papers like a pissing puppy, Malcolm.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, well that's what we masters of the dark arts call a blip.
[Malcolm has organised some celebrity endorsements for the department]
Glen: Well done Malcolm.
Ollie: He is very impressive, isn't he? In the way that, you know, Chairman Mao was actually quite impressive.
Glen: Well, that's the thing about the evil, isn't it, their amazing work ethic.
Malcolm Tucker: How are the hacks?
Steve Fleming: Ready to eat their own cocks.
Malcolm Tucker: Easy, they're journalists not Rangers supporters.
[Malcolm's parting words to his colleagues after "resigning"]
Malcolm Tucker: YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN! YOU WILL FUCKING SEE ME AGAIN!

[edit] Series 3, Episode 8

Nicola Murray: Ollie! Glen! I need you in here now. Quick!
[Glen approaches the office while taking off his glasses]
Nicola Murray: Oh Glen! Don't faff around with your glasses, I know you take them off everytime you come in here. It's not impressive!
Malcolm Tucker: [At home after being sacked, Malcolm answers the phone] Philip Schofield, I fuck lobsters for money.
Terri:"Give us the Bald-facts?". It's very rude that, isn't it. I was always told never to make personal remarks about people.
Terri: That is a complete disaster. There will be nothing on television for weeks now.
Ollie: He's back!
Nicola Murray: Who? Barrymore?
Ollie: No.
Nicola Murray: Clement Atlee?
Ollie: No.
Nicola Murray: Oh fuck!
Ollie: Yes.
Nicola Murray: Malcolm.
Ollie: Yes.
Malcolm: Don't take that job, Nicola.
Nicola: God, Malcolm.
Malcolm: The anti-Tom brigade are just waiting for the first piece to fall. If you resign, it's political fucking Jenga. You will cause a landslide that will bury this Government. And you'll keep the party in opposition until Daniel Radcliffe is advertising walk-in baths in the fucking Peoples Friend
Julius Nicholson: You are a naughty bastard!
Malcolm Tucker: [Holding up Julius' report] Best thing I've read all year. It's the only thing, mind you.
Julius Nicholson: You've done some pretty awful things to me in my time, but this takes the bloody biscuit. And you've pissed on that biscuit and I've got to eat it. Well, here's the news, Malcolm, I will not eat the pissy biscuit!
Malcolm Tucker: Sam, no pissy biscuits.
[The Opposition have their first meeting with Cal "The Fucker" Richards]
Peter Mannion: I'm sensing a change in management styles. From touchy-feely to smashy-testes.
Cal Richards: Fuck, what I really need to do is to shoot you all in the back of the head! But I can't because it's illegal!
Malcolm: Let's set fire to tears!

[edit] Cast

The Government

Her Majesty's Civil Service

The Opposition

The Media

Former Characters

[edit] External links

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