Right, John, can you...

Sorry I thought, are you not going to fasttrack now?

Yeah, I am. All right, I'll get you a fucking pizza.

She is bonkers.

I, erm, might also go for a celebratory,

er, polling wee. That's what I'm going to do, so, John,

do you want to keep these good people company

without being too "Duggan" about it?

Totes, consider it done. Or about to be done, pre-done.

I'm saying yes, is the gist, basically.

Hello, hi.

Do you want me to do a ring round? Call Olly. Why?

Olly and Ben are mates. I'm sorry I have to keep walking,

this train feels like it's getting very small right now. It's not it's the same size.

Get Olly to call Ben and tell him to offer him anything he wants,

anything at all, bigger portfolio, pig roast, whatever, I...

I've just got to keep moving, I have to keep moving.

So go on then, how's life in Nazi HQ,

is it fun collaborating?

Oh, don't start all that again, I got into government by accident.

Speaking of which, how is Terri?

She's entering her dog for Britain's Got Talent.

What's the matter with you?

Please tell me you're looking for a bone marrow donor

and that I'm you're only hope.

The answer would be "no," by the way.

Bad luck, no, it's an appendix out.

I hope it is, since your lot took over the NHS

everything's a fucking adventure.

Look, this is all incredibly entertaining

but you've called me over in my lunch hour

and as you're fond of saying, I don't have many left.

So, you know all this stuff with Mr Tickle. Sad business.

Very sad business. Yeah. Mr Sad is actually very, very sad about it.

Yes, Mr Happy on the other hand, fucking delighted.

Mr Stoic's taking it on the chin.