"Nicola, I would like to go FOR a lovely walk with you,"

and, "Nicola, I would like to make a hat out OF your fucking entrails."

Excuse me.

Steven.

Yes. Well, you can tell Tom,

right now, that I'm fucking sweating embryos for him. OK.

Glenn, here's a thing. Apparently, you're going to be an MP.

You didn't talk to me about that.

He's not standing, don't be silly. Tell her. Put her out of her misery.

Go on. Tell me more. Terri, can I just get a word in?

Look at this, takeaway and a fight.

All I need now is a hand job in a bus shelter,

I've had the great British night out.

Excuse me. I'm off for a doze.

Nicola, I know we're not allowed to take any calls

but this is your husband.

Thank you.

James. Do you actually even know me, James?

Do you even know who I am?

I think it's shut-up time, now, James. So, one last thing.

When I promised to love, honour and obey you,

it was a massive practical joke.

Hi. Yes.

Sorry, Nicola. Just a quick cup of coffee. How was your husband?

Sounds a bit upset, is he?

Upset? No. He wants me to stand.

He thinks this is fucking great.

He just wants to show off about me to the rugby club dinner.

"Hello, everybody. This is my wife, the prime minister."

"Hello, JB. Have you met my wife, the prime minister?

"How's your wife, the little lady?"

It's nice that he's being supportive.

He's not being supportive.

James is...he is not a supporting wall.

He is a partition and I'm going to have him knocked through.

Nicola, I'm going to take off my media hat.