Should I send her a card?

Yeah, of course. That would be completely appropriate. Do you want to give me £8?

Yeah, erm... I was kidding!

It was a joke.

It was a joke... OK.

OK.

It's Robyn. Robyn Murdoch, isn't it?

That's Robyn Murdoch? Yeah, yeah.

I always thought Robyn Murdoch was a bloke. No, no.

I thought THAT... was Robyn Murdoch's secretary.

I always thought that was someone whose name I didn't know. No, that's Robyn.

Oh. Turns out I didn't know her name after all,

but I had it attached to someone unknown's face.

She'll be much easier to cut out of the loop with the factory visit.

Can we send out a revised biography and not that photograph of me with the fucking moustache?

I look like a disgraced geography teacher. I can't help you with that.

Why not? I've been seconded. I'm off for the week.

We beg to fucking differ. Where do you think you're going? Number 10.

I've been talent-spotted.

He said I was over there for the week if it's OK with you,

which he said it would be.

Oh, well, obviously it is then.

Oh. They'll only want him to make cappuccinos.

Well, he does it very well.

I think it's the way you waggle your finger in the milk.

Yeah, you think it's my finger, bitch.

Where's Neil? Leicester, poor fucker.

You'd think when you achieve a certain status,

you'd be excused visiting Leicester.

Have you seen the whip's numbers? NOMFuP. Eh? NOMFuP.

N-O-M-F-P. Not my fucking problem. I like that. Do you?

I think I'll use that quite a lot today. I'll use it as well.

Ho! Well done with fatty's profile.

I nearly liked the enormous fucker reading it.

Any time. What if the MoD breaks tonight?

What I'm hearing is the overspend's getting more brutal by the hour.