What is GFU? Good for us. Mmm?
Oh, shit with a capital shit. We've got to go.
Great.
No, no, no. Sit.
The Guardian have received an e-mail from Fergus.
Actually, do you know, strike that. Chain of emails.
Oh, perfect. With all of our comments about Mr Tickel underneath.
Oh, God. Not the one where we all piled in with the Mr Men jokes?
Yes, that one, Phil.
Oh, you kid me. Jesus!
I kid you not!
Oh my giddy fuck.
They've leaked all the bloody emails.
"Mr Tickel sounds like a gropey clown at a kid's party".
I can't see! Can I make it bigger?
Go to settings. "Poor Ickle Mr Tickel, perhaps he's meant to be sickle".
That's from Fergus.
Is this settings?
Ah! I think I've just taken a picture of my feet.
PHONE RINGS
Yep?
What? Where?
Right. I don't know.
OK. Rugby tackle him, or, or taze him. Gaffer tape him to a seat.
He can't come up here.
Er...Glenn is in reception.
Hoddle? Miller? Close? Morangie?
Cullen. Glenn Cullen is in reception.
Glenn?
Yeah.
Why are you even fucking telling me that?
When the Queen's butler finds a cockroach in the pantry,
he just stamps on it.
Yes. She doesn't even know.
OK, OK. I'll go and stamp on the cockroach, Malcolm.
'..the whole enquiry into the whole culture of leaking...'