out of one of the darkest economic periods in its entire fucking art history.

Look, at the moment, I hold all the cards,

including the card that tells you how to play so, so it's over.

The fat lady's singing. No, she's not.

The fat man from the Go Compare advert is talking.

This is tiger by the tail time,

and I am loving it, loving it, loving it.

In that case you leave me no option, Ben,

I'm gonna have to say "yes."

Ha, ha, Chumba-fucking-Wumba.

Then I resign on the dotted line.

Can you give us a minute, Ben, please?

Dan and I need to talk some strategy.

Might head in the direction of confection. Any snackage, anyone?

No, no.

Is this for real?

No, of course it's not for real, Malcolm.

I'm offering him Chancellor,

I may as well offer bass player in The Wurzels,

because that burley haemorrhoid's not in any fucking Cabinet of mine.

Good. So how you gonna shaft him? That's not my problem.

That's your problem, Malcolm.

Right, so this is a little test? You're weighing my balls?

Should we get Ben?

Oh, he'll be back. Like the shit Terminator.

There he is.

Ben Swain. I know, she's a crazy woman. Nicola's got to go.

Any time a decision has to be made on anything

she just starts flapping about like Christ in a crucifix shop.

She's a nightmare.

She backed the hospital flats sell off, a man is dead because of that policy.

Oh wind it up, Polly fucking Toynbee.

All right fine, think of it this way.

Do it for yourself then, Glenn. Do it for the sheer revenge.

What has it actually been like, hey?

The last two years stuck in that fucking office