In the Loop (film)

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In The Loop is a feature film spin-off of the BBC TV series The Thick of It.

Malcolm Tucker[edit]

  • [On mobile phone] Okay, okay, go ahead and print "unforeseeable." Listen, see when I tell your wife about you and Angela Heaney at the Blackpool conference, what would be best? An email, a phone call, what? Hey! I could write it on a cake with those little silver balls: "Your hack husband betrayed you on October the 4th and congratulations on the new baby." Yeah, maybe it's better to spike it. Yeah, okay, fuckity-bye!
  • [On mobile phone] I'm not holding any longer; what's he waiting for, a fucking sex change? NO, YOU RELAX! 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!
  • Yeah, diarrhea of a nobody, yeah, I like that.
  • [To Simon Foster] In the words of the late great Nat King fucking Cole, unforeseeable, that's what you are.
  • We've got enough Pentagon goons to stage a fucking coup d'etat.
  • "Climb the mountain of conflict"? You know what you sounded like? You sounded like a fucking Nazi Julie Andrews!
  • Christ on a bendy-bus, Simon, don't be such a fucking faff-arse.
  • You sure you're working as hard as me? 'Cause I'm sweating spinal fluid here! I'm a fucking husk!
  • [to Simon Foster] You know, if I could, I'd fucking punch you into paralysis!
  • [to Sir Jonathan Tutt] Mr Ambassador, with your big baldy head, you are spoiling us!
  • [to Linton Barwick] 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 you disapprove of the swearing, so I'll sort that. You are a boring F-star-star-CUNT.

Judy Molloy[edit]

  • They're all kids in Washington. It's like Bugsy Malone but with real guns.
  • [about Jamie MacDonald] You know, my theory is that Malcolm built him in a lab out of bits of old psychopaths.

Simon Foster[edit]

  • I really hope there isn't a war. It's gonna be a nightmare; it's bad enough dealing with the fucking Olympics.
  • Meeting my constituents? It's like being Simon Cowell but without the ability to say "Fuck off, you're mental."

Toby Wright[edit]

  • Good luck at the Foreign Office, try not to annoy Russia.
  • It's a bit manic, it's not like Agriculture. People rarely get this swear-y about wheat.

Jamie MacDonald[edit]

  • Y'know me, Malc. Kid gloves, but made from real kids.
  • What did you expect? They're BUILDERS! Have-- 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! Batbuilder? Spider-builder? Huh? That's why you never see a superhero with a hod!


  • Chad: You couldn't write a paper that clashes more with the current climate if you were trying. And it seems like you almost were trying.
  • General Miller: 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. [pause] It's like France.


Judy Molloy: Mark, you're coordinating the millennium goals on the press release, aren't you?
Mark: Yes.
Judy Molloy: Coordinate it better, please.

Simon Foster: [In a radio interview] Well, personally, I think that war is unforeseeable.
Malcolm Tucker: Sam! Sam!
Eddie Mair: [On radio] "Unforeseeable"?
Simon Foster: [On radio] Yes.
Malcolm Tucker: No, you do not think that! Sam, I'm going to have to go to International Development and pull Simon Foster's fucking hair.

[Judy hangs up the phone]
Simon Foster: Who was that?
Judy Molloy: Malcolm. He's coming to see you.
Simon Foster: Oh shit, he's still alive. When's he due?
Malcolm Tucker: [Entering the room] Now. And don't say you weren't prepared, because I rang ahead.

Malcolm Tucker: [to Toby] Hey, foetus boy, lesson one: If I tell you to fuck off, what do you do?
Toby Wright: Umm... Eff off?
Malcolm Tucker: You'll go far! Now fuck off.
Toby Wright: Right. [leaves the room]
Simon Foster: Judy and I were thinking that I could row back on Question Time tonight—
Malcolm Tucker: You're not going on Question Time, you've been disinvited.
Simon Foster: We've been prepping Question Time!
Judy Molloy: Why wasn't I told about this?
Malcolm Tucker: Why the fuck would I tell you it?! I've told you to fuck off twice, and yet you're still here!
Judy Molloy: You should tell me about it because it's a scheduled media appearance by this department's secretary of state, so therefore it falls well within my purview!
Malcolm Tucker: "Within your purview"?
Judy Molloy: Yes!
Malcolm Tucker: Where do you think you are, in some fucking regency costume drama?! This is a government department! Not a fucking Jane fucking Austen novel!
Simon Foster: Malcolm...
Malcolm Tucker: Allow me to pop a jaunty little bonnet on your "purview" and ram it up the shitter with a lubricated horse-cock!
Judy Molloy: Your swearing does not impress me. My husband works for Tower Hamlets and believe me, those kids make you sound like... Angela Lansbury!
Malcolm Tucker: [to Simon] She's married? Poor bastard.

[After Simon's "mountain of conflict" statement]
Simon Foster: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! Why didn't we nail the line?!
Judy Molloy: Simon, I did try to warn you.
Simon Foster: Yes! Yes! You did try to warn me, but you don't actually stop me, did you?!
Judy Molloy: I can't tackle you to the ground!
Simon Foster: That's like shouting "Train!" as someone gets hit by a train! You should go; "Train! It's a fucking train!"
Judy Molloy: [her phone rings] Bollocks!
Simon Foster: [his phone rings also] Fuck, it's Malcolm!
Judy Molloy: Mine's Malcolm too.
Simon Foster: How does he do that?
Malcolm Tucker: [talking on two mobiles] Simon, I don't like finding out about people employed by this government via the news unless they've just died. Be here, now!

Malcolm Tucker: I'm here, I'm there, I'm fucking everywhere. I'm the egg man.
Simon Foster: Have you come to insult me in a different timezone?

Malcolm Tucker: Karen Clark will want you to say that war is unforeseeable, and Linton Barwick will want you to talk about the "climb the mountain of conflict" line. You say nothing, okay? You stay detached, otherwise that's what I'll do to your retinas.
Simon Foster: Right, can I go to bed now, please?
Malcolm Tucker: No, no, no, no, no! You're gonna stay here, and you're gonna rehearse saying nothing!
Simon Foster: Am I being tortured?

Linton Barwick: 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.
Bob Adriano: I could request the glass be frosted.
Linton Barwick: Frosting is on cakes, huh? Now, what else happened in London?
Bob Adriano: Ah, generally positive, two glitches...
Linton Barwick: Really? What?
Bob Adriano: 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.
Linton Barwick: PWIP what?
Bob Adriano: PWIP PIP.
Linton Barwick: What is it, a report on bird calls? What does it even stand for?
Bob Adriano: I can't recall. It's factish—intel for and against intervention.
Linton Barwick: We have all the facts on this we need, we don't need anymore facts. In the land of truth, my friend... the man with one fact is the king.

Simon Foster: 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 1, Paragraph 1: Don't leave your boss twisting in the wind, then burst in late, smelling like a pissed seaside donkey." [impersonating Toby] "The British are coming!"
Toby Wright: Okay, okay, Simon, I was late for the meeting. I am sorry. But it's not like I threw up in there, is it?
Simon Foster: No, you're right. I'm being unfair. I should be thanking you for not throwing up. Well done. You're a star. And 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, start plucking it and shouting "Willy Banjo!" No, I'm being really unfair. You got so much right... without actually being there for the beginning of one of the most important moments in my career. Thanks. You're a legend.

Malcolm Tucker: I'm sorry... I don't... This situation here... Is this it? No offense, son, but you look like you should still be at school with your head down a fucking toilet.
A.J. Brown: Your first point there, the offense? I'm afraid I'm gonna have to take it. The second point, I'm twenty-two, but it's my birthday in nine days, so if it'd make you feel more comfortable, we could wait.
Malcolm Tucker: 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 wee tail on a Playboy Bunny! I thought, I was led to believe I was attending the War Committee!
A.J. Brown: Yes, Assistant Secretary of State Linton Barwick asked me to brief you on the work of the Future Planning Committee.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm away. [as A.J.'s assistant walks in with coffee] Oh, and here we are. The fucking Vice President has also graced us with his presence. Give him a bottle of milk!

Malcolm Tucker: [On mobile to Judy] Where's the War Committee? I thought I was going to the War Committee.
Judy Molloy: Simon's going to the War Committee, I thought you were doing your one-to-one.
Malcolm Tucker: Just tell me where the fuck it's happening.
Judy Molloy: The State Department, seventh floor. Malcolm, do you like how I'm telling you what's going on where you are?
Malcolm Tucker: Let me tell you what's going on where you are, sweetheart. A certain vinegar-faced manipulative cowbag is about to discover she's out of a fucking [Judy hangs up] job. Fucking hang up, haven't you, you fucking hoity-toity fucking—
Passer-by: Hey, buddy, enough with the curse words, all right?
Malcolm Tucker: Kiss my sweaty balls, you fat fuck!

Simon Foster: I've got this covered. Go and find the next thing, talk to that Chad boy. The boy from The Shining. He knows things.
Toby Wright: Don't make me pump Chad!
Simon Foster: I am making you pump Chad. Go on, it'll be easy-peasy-lemon-squeazy.
Toby Wright: No it won't, it'll be difficult-difficult-lemon-difficult, that's what it'll be. (leaving the room) Have a lovely afternoon. Stop a war for me.

Linton Barwick: So, welcome to the somewhat engorged session of the Future Planning Committee.
Karen Clark: Yes, Assistant Secretary, on point six, it feels it feels like there's already been an assumption that we're invading. Don't you think that we should discuss the practical implications? I mean, this is, after all, the war committee.
Linton Barwick: Uh, this is the Future Planning Committee.
Karen Clark: Well, unofficially, it is called the war committee.
Linton Barwick: Well, Karen, unofficially, we can call anything whatever we want. (holds up a glass of water) 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.
General Miller: (holding his own glass of water) Uh, unofficially, this appears to be bullshit.

Malcolm Tucker: (to Barwick) Linton! Linton!
Linton Barwick: (turns around) Mr. Tucker, isn't it? Nice to see you again. (handshake)
Malcolm Tucker: Are you fucking me about?
Linton Barwick: (chuckles) Is there a problem, Mr. Tucker?
Malcolm Tucker: I've just come from a briefing with a nine year old child.
Linton Barwick: Oh, you're talking about A.J. He's one of our top guys. He's one of our brightest and best.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, well his briefing notes were written in Alphabetti Spaghetti. When I left I nearly tripped over his fucking umbilical cord.
Linton Barwick: Well I'm sorry that it troubles you that our people achieve excellence at such an early age. But can we just move on to what's really important? Now I understand that your Prime Minister has asked you to supply us with some, let's say "fresh", British Intelligence, is that true?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, apparently your fucking master race of highly-gifted toddlers can't get the job done...
Linton Barwick: All right.
Malcolm Tucker: ...between breast feeds and playing with their Power Rangers, so an actual grown-up has been asked to fucking bail you out.

Toby Wright: [Looking at the Washington Monument] See that? Pull that out, America deflates.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, it's very easy to mock. The closest you'll ever get to seeing one of those is buying fucking Toblerone.

Malcolm Tucker: [reading a newspaper] "While Foster jets around at the taxpayer's expense, his constituent's wall is collapsing and he doesn't give a shit!"
Simon Foster: It doesn't say that.
Malcolm Tucker: No, but it does say "Wall-ace and Gromit"!
Simon Foster: Wall-Ace, though!
Malcolm Tucker: You're being portrayed as the biggest twat in Northamptonshire, and that's going, son! I've got bigger fish to fry, believe me. I'm giving this to someone else. [shouts outside his office] Jamie!
Simon Foster: Ah, the crossest man in Scotland.
Jamie MacDonald: [enters the office] Well, if it isn't Humpty Numpty!
Simon Foster: What is this? Surround bollocking?
Jamie MacDonald: Hey, with all due respect I wasn't finished. If it isn't Humpty Numpty, sitting on top of a collapsing wall like some clueless... egg cunt. Now I'm finished.
Simon Foster: Hi, Jamie! This is Toby!
Toby Wright: Hi, I'm Simon's aide.
Jamie MacDonald: Toby, very nice to meet you, please, sit down. Right, that's enough all the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries!
Toby Wright: What's Oxbridge about saying hello?
Jamie MacDonald: SHUT IT, Love Actually! Do you want me to hole-punch your face?!
Malcolm Tucker: Right, I'm off to deal with the fate of the planet. Be gentle with them!
Jamie MacDonald: You know me, Malc, kid gloves, but made from real kids.
Malcolm Tucker: Haha. [leaves.]
Jamie MacDonald: Right. Butch and Gaydance, this wall story is playing badly, there's a cartoon in here of you as a walrus!
Simon Foster: A walrus? I'm not fat, I don't even have a moustache. Fuck, they've given me tusks!
Jamie MacDonald: Wall-rus? Do you get it? Wall-rus. Wall-rus.
Toby Wright: Look, we called some builders, they didn't turn up when they said they would—
Jamie MacDonald: What did you expect?! THEY'RE BUILDERS! Have you ever seen a film where the hero is a builder? 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!

Malcolm Tucker: 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?
General Miller: No, I didn't leak PWIP-PIP, I do everything up-front. I'm not like some creepy little gay mercenary who sneaks around doing other people's dirty work.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm doing my own dirty work. I'm doing my job.
General Miller: No, I think you are doing Linton's dirty work. You're his little English bitch and you don't even know it. I bet if I went to your hotel room tonight, I'd see you down on all fours, with little fish-nets on with him hanging out the back of you.
Malcolm Tucker: Oh, that's nice! That's really tough talk coming from the fucking armchair general! Why don't you put your feet up on the pouffe and go back to sleep, why don't you?
General Miller: Look, Tucker, you might be some scary little poodle-fucker back there in London, but out here you're nothing. You know what you look like? A squeezed dick. You've got a big blue vein running up the side of your head. See, that's where I'd put the bullet. Only I'd have to stand back, 'cause you look like you'd be a squirter.
Malcolm Tucker: Have you ever actually killed anybody, I mean really?
General Miller: Yeah.
Malcolm Tucker: What, falling asleep on someone? I mean, that doesn't count!
General Miller: [laughs] That's good! That's very good! How about you, pussy drip? Ever killed anybody?
Malcolm Tucker: Maiming is what I prefer. Psychologically.
General Miller: Well, why don't you try and maim me? I'll knock you so hard in the face you'll be shitting teeth.
Malcolm Tucker: Go ahead. I can see the headlines: "Peace-loving General Starts Fight at the UN, Swiss Intervene." I don't know, I'm no expert on spin, but that could hurt your career.
General Miller: Yeah?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah. Now do excuse me, I've got work to do. [pause] Don't ever call me fucking English again.
[Malcolm walks off, leaving General Miller confused.]

Michael Rodgers: Suzy, well done. This is absolutely superb.
Jamie McDonald: [entering the room] Hey, Horse of the Year, was it you?
Suzy: Was what me?
Suzy: Was what me, Jamie? I—I—I have no idea what you're talking about.
Michael Rodgers: She can't answer the question, can she? Unless she knows what it is.
Jamie McDonald: You leaked Liza Wells' paper to the BBC, right? Now, tell me you leaked it.
Suzy: No, I—I didn't leak it.
Jamie McDonald: I know the leak came from in here. From this fucking fax machine right here.
Suzy: No, there's no— there's no way!
Jamie McDonald: [sliding the fax off the table] Do you see what I'm doing to this machine?
Suzy: Jamie, don't— [fax falls off the table] Jesus Christ! Fuck! Jamie! What the fuck?!
Jamie McDonald: [kicking the fax] Do you see how angry I am with the piece of office equipment that leaked this document?! Huh?!
Suzy: Michael—
Jamie McDonald: [kicking the fax] Can you even imagine how angry I am with the person who leaked it?! Can you?! Can you, huh?! Can you, Suzy?!
Michael Rodgers: Jamie, it was me.
Jamie McDonald: Oh, don't get all fucking Spartacus on us now!
Michael Rodgers: I leaked it.
Suzy: Michael, what are you doing?
Jamie McDonald: [about opera music playing in another room] Hang on, hang on, FOR A START, TURN THAT FUCKING RACKET OFF!
Suzy: Turn it off.
Jamie McDonald: IT'S JUST VOWELS! Subsidised, foreign fucking vowels! [turning the music off] 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?!
Michael Rodgers: I just sent it. I read it, I thought it was important—
Jamie McDonald: Good! Good! Fine! Fine! See that fax? Yeah? THAT is your career, and I think it might be fucked, but let's just check. [kicks the fax] Yeah, yeah, it's pretty fucked. Now, I hope you can play the spoons. Because, I mean, you're too old to go back to being a gentleman's fluffer, aren't you?!

Karen Clark: So you read Liza's paper I guess.
General Miller: I am a voracious reader. I'm the Gore Vidal of the Pentagon.
Karen Clark: Gore's gay.
General Miller: No he's not.
Karen Clark: I beg to differ but...
General Miller: He's gay? 'Cause I've been saying that Gore Vidal line.
Karen Clark: He is gay.
General Miller: Guess I'd better stop saying that then.

Judy Malloy: I'll- I'll just leave you to your... thoughts.
Simon Foster: 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.

Simon Foster: After the vote... I resign.
Malcolm Tucker: OH, FUCK OFF. Resigning?! How fucking impressive! Resign! The horse has bolted, it's out there now, it's getting fucking SHOT!
Simon Foster: See you later, Malcolm.

Malcolm Tucker: I know it was you who leaked Linton's war committee.
Toby Wright: Oh, right... it wasn't?
Malcolm Tucker: "It wasn't?" That's what you're going to say when they come and slip a hood over your head and fly you off to Diego Garcia and carry out a cavity search?
Toby Wright: I don't actually recall. It was a very busy time.
Malcolm Tucker: That's better. Okay, I am putting you on a probationary period from today until the end of recorded time.
Toby Wright: All right.
Malcolm Tucker: Do you understand?
Toby Wright: Yes—
Malcolm Tucker: You're my guy now, right? I own you, you are my Kunta Kinte— go and get your fucking laptop!

[The UN pass the resolution]
Simon Foster: Yep. That's that, then.
Toby Wright: Jolly good. "That's that, then" is your line for the ages, is it?
Simon Foster: What?
Toby Wright: 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?'"
Simon Foster: Piss off, Toby.

Karen Clark: I e-mailed my resignation five minutes ago. And yours should come pretty soon, for the biggest media impact.
General Miller: I've been thinking.
Karen Clark: Yeah?
General Miller: This has been the hardest political decision of my career. I'm not going to resign.
Karen Clark: Huh? What the fuck, George?
General Miller: Before the war, I was going to resign. But now that there's a war on... I can't resign.
Karen Clark: You said that this was intolerable. You said we would go together.
General Miller: 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.
Karen Clark: You're not a soldier.
General Miller: ...I've been a soldier my whole life! What do you mean I'm not a solider? I'm a soldier! Look at the uniform—what do you think, I'm one of the Village people?
Karen Clark: When did you shoot a guy last?
General Miller: What, just because I haven't shot someone in fifteen years I'm not a soldier? You know, the Army doesn't make you drag some bullet-ridden, bloody corpse into the Pentagon every five years to renew you "soldier's licence"!
Karen Clark: It's unnecessary!
General Miller: So what?!
Karen Clark: And if you were a good general, you'd have some balls!
General Miller: Look, shut up about my balls. My balls have been around, you have no idea where my balls have been!
Karen Clark: I can talk about your balls all I want, 'cause I remember when—
Karen Clark: Come on, Chad. We have to draft resignation announcements.
Chad: Actually, Miss Clark, I think I might stay with the General, if that's okay. If he's staying I might stay with him, see what assistance I can furnish.
Karen Clark: Okay... General Shrek and his faithful talking donkey.
General Miller: (to Chad) What do you need to stick around for?!
Chad: Well, I just want to let you know, sir, that I think you've got... big balls, it's like... two-thirds of a snowman.
General Miller: Dear God.

[A newspaper is reporting the collapse of Simon's constituency's wall]
Simon Foster: God, how ridiculous! And that's news, is it?
Malcolm Tucker: It's not ridiculous. It's not ridiculous at all. [beat] You're fired.
Simon Foster: What?
Malcolm Tucker: Over the wall. [Points at the paper] I mean, that's just not tolerable.
Simon Foster: It's a fucking wall, Malcolm.
Malcolm Tucker: Look, The Telegraph has a cartoon of you teetering on the Great Wall of China. Suggesting that you're 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.
Simon Foster: No!
Malcolm Tucker: Yes!
Simon Foster: You haven't--you haven't even spoken to the Prime Minister!
Malcolm Tucker: I--I--I have.
Simon Foster: You fucking haven't! I've been standing here right in front of you!
Malcolm Tucker: I have spoken to the Prime Minister. Whether it has happened or not is irrelevant, it is true! And he was very clear; you've got to go.
Simon Foster: [Laughs nervously] If you think I'm going quietly, Malcolm, you've made a mistake.
Malcolm Tucker: Well, if you want to try and turn this into some anti-war protest, expect to hear your "Mountain of Conflict" soundbite everywhere: from ringtones to, fucking, a dance mix on YouTube. And I will marshal all the media forces of darkness to hound you to an assisted suicide. [Simon stands, stunned and terrified] Right-oh, let's just go and draft your "Dear Prime Minister, just a quick note to say thanks for giving me the sack" letter. Off we tot! Come on, young Simon!

Deleted scenes[edit]

Simon Foster: I think the reason America is a superpower is because everyone who comes here to negotiate is out of their minds with jet-lag. If somebody offered me a pillow now, I'd happily give them Gibraltar.

Simon Foster: We'd sent someone round who built some temporary buttresses.
Jamie McDonald: And that's your headline response, is it?! "We put up temporary buttresses, says flailing walrus FUCK"?!

Jamie McDonald: I went to see that film There Will Be Blood, right? I mean it's a fucking great title. If somebody says to you, "Do you fancy going to see a film?" "Well, I don't know, will there be blood?" There Will Be Blood, right? "I'm in, I'm in!" I mean that is a fucking great title for a film. I mean you couldn't have a better title for a film. Apart from, maybe, There Will Be Tits. You could have a cinema that just shows There Will Be Blood and There Will Be Tits, you don't need any other films! That's the end of cinema right there!
Malcolm Tucker: Is this fucking going anywhere?
Jamie McDonald: Yeah, yeah, I went see There Will Be Blood, and there wasn't any fucking blood!
Malcolm Tucker: There was some blood!
Jamie McDonald: Och, there was hardly any fucking blood.

Jamie McDonald: I am gonna tear this place apart! You wouldn't believe an inanimate room can scream, but it will! There will be plaster!

Simon Foster: "Pro-war"? That's ridiculous. I use a wormery. I've been to see Coldplay twice. OK, I've got to go. Look, you've got to play that down. I mean, obviously don't make out that I smoke weed, but you've got to make it clear, I'm not in Fight Club either. I'm ... Neutral Club. First rule of Neutral Club: let's hear what the other rules are, then we'll take an overview.

Malcolm Tucker: NO, YOU RELAX! I don't need fucking acupuncture, I'll fucking acupuncture you. I'll come over there and I'll give you a fucking acupuncture treatment, you'll end up looking like the guy from Hellraiser and I'll fucking take a phonebook and bash it against your face! You'll look like a fucking leper's hairbrush! Don't you dare ever tell me— you relax! I don't need your scented candles, I'll send you a fucking scented candle stuck in the end of a fucking petrol bomb! You'll be fucking burnt to death but you'll smell of fucking sandalwood!

Jamie McDonald: Okay, shits! Put your knickers on! It's the IT Sweeney! We've come to strip-search your computers, haven't we... oh, fat man whose name I've forgotten?
Alan: Yes...
Jamie McDonald: It's only intelligence we're after, so we might be here for a while. [sees Judy] OH, LOOK EVERYBODY! IT'S LEAKY WOMAN! You ought to do some fucking pelvic floor exercises, darling! I hear you've been pissing intel everywhere!
Judy Molloy: I have not leaked anything, and I'm not going to be intimidated by some Cro-Magnon Scottish dwarf!
Jamie McDonald: Are we exploring personal boundaries here? You fucking stuck up[answering mobile] Hang on, hang on. Hi, hi. Listen, I'm in the middle of something, can I ring you back? Ta. [hangs up] Where was I? Oh yeah; you fucking stuck up, toffee pudding bitch!
[Jamie gets up into Judy's face]
Jamie McDonald: D'you know, I'm quite... aroused... by the idea of giving you a long... hard... disciplinary hearing.
Judy Molloy: Is that right?
Jamie McDonald: Mmm.
Judy Molloy: I would absolutely love you to give me a long, hard disciplinary hearing. Because you know what I'd have at the end of it? A big, fat compensation payment. So go ahead. Give me one.
Jamie McDonald: I'd like to give you one.
Judy Molloy: I'd love you to give me one.
[Jamie, intimidated, walks away]

Jamie McDonald: Okay, uh... ock, fat man whose name I still can't remember. Get on there.
Alan: It's Alan...
Jamie McDonald: What is this, a fucking speed date? Just get on it, piggy!


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