I had my finger in the dyke but the dyke's very, very squirty.

Is it Fat Pat?

I've heard that she's a... Shut up.

We're old soldiers, right, this is life in war time, OK?

I mean, every now and then you're going to get an incident of friendly fire.

Yeah? Yeah.

Good man. Yes. Good.

Now, you've lost Geordie Julie, the merry fucking widow,

you've got a hole in your speech. Have we got a contingency?

We'll figure it out. Why don't I help you?

Let's roll some tits up the flagpole and see if anyone gets wood.

Oh, Christ, it's like being trapped in a fucking boys toilet.

second holiday. We need to take the piss out of that.

OK, how about he's called Peter two-holidays Manyon? Glen?

at planning his holidays.

lobbing out there, mate. Boom.

I feel I'm in a therapy group being run by my own rapist.

Right, OK, well how about...? Oh, my God.

it was room service cold calling.

Who the fuck is leaking this out there?

Find out who is pissing this over the wall.

Well, the thing about the internet, Malcolm, is it's quite big.

It's on Rob Holt's blog. I don't know what he looks like...

You need to get your People's Champion out of this hotel

before some tabloid mince flannel starts soft-soaping her.

We've got her back now, is that right?

Don't be so fucking touchy about it. There's a lot to fucking deal with.

She's my responsibility now.

It doesn't fucking matter.

Wilma!

Fuck off. I'm making a phone call.

Make a phone call.

Phone a fucking friend.

Hello. Terri, it's Nicola again.

We're at Defcom One or Five or whichever the really bad one is.

You stupid pillock. Oh, boy racers.