Ben's threatening to resign. Ben?

Nah, he's just a fucking air bag.

I know he's a fucking air bag,

but if he goes off now in Nicola's face,

she'll crash, so you've gotta call and stop him, OK? We...

And you've hung up.

Wow, I'm fine, thanks, for asking, Wednesday fucking Addams.

Olly, this is the shittiest lunch break

I've had since Stewart took us all out for sushi.

Patience, old man, and you can watch the fuck puppet master at work now.

'Ben Swain!'

Benign tumour, bental illness.

Ol... Oliver cyst,

Olivetti spagett...

I don't really have time for chit chat, Olly.

Are you resigning, mate? Are you dropping the R-bomb? Benola Gay?

And I'm not just talking about the rumours.

Let's just say it is time to prepare the hidey hole

for Madame Hussein, her reign of error is over.

And out of interest, Ben, what would it take to stop you from resigning?

'Why, what's Nicola offering?' Name your price.

All right, Shadow Chancellor.

OLLY LAUGHING Ah, you still got it, Benny.

I'm serious, stop fucking laughing. All right, I'll, I'll call you back.

This is a fucking joke. Ben Swain, Chancellor.

He goes into debt every time he passes a sweet shop.

Let's pass it on to the new Glenn. She's about to lose her job,

so she's more like the old Glenn.

Yes.

'He would like Chancellor.'

He wants Chancellor.

Just give it to the fucker. It's fine.

What? Are you jerking my turkey? Chancellor?

It's a panicky thumbs up, from the vestibule.

Shit a thimble. Right, well.

'Shadow Chancellor Swain.'