Try and stay cross-legged if you can, Peter. Don't break the circle.

I'm 54, Stewart. My knees are fucked and my patience is snapped.

Some of us had to go through this hippy shit the first time around.

I'm not talking about selling it to the electorate.

I'm talking about exploring it within the free space of the circle.

OK, give me the ball. Give me the ball. Give me the ball.

No. Give me the fucking ball, Stewart.

Let's do away with you. What?

Filters off, daddyo, let it all hang out.

Just suppose your free-range, no-consequences bullshit

was hugely entertaining when we were in opposition and shitting money

but now that we're in government and it's all gone a bit JG Ballard,

it's irrelevant and infantile.

Oh, very droll, Peter.

And maybe the reason you don't mind handing your phone in

is that it doesn't ring as much as it used to.

Oh, sorry, doesn't ring as much as it used to, yes and ho.

Er, I'm sorry but does the sign on the door say "do disturb"?

No. Sorry. It is urgent.

Your office says Peter Mannion and Stewart Pearson should check their phones and call back now, please.

Fine, well, you've, you've burst the thought bubble, erm, receptionist,

so that's great. Thank you very much. Fantastic.

OK, everyone just take...

Sorry, is that a phone, Emma?

Er, hotline, Number 10.

It's just I'm amending some boring policy drafts.

They're encrypted but I've got to keep it on me.

And Stewart hasn't got one.

Want the opinion of an old lag? Mannion will have to go.

Stick to policemen are getting younger, Glenn.

Peter's going nowhere

and I don't mean that in a Glenn's career kind of way.

I've seen a lot of people resign and they're always happier afterwards.

You're thinking of lobotomies.

Peter resigns over my dead body.

Yes, yes. That would be the ideal scenario.