Fucking brilliant!

Eight missed messages.

Sleep lightly.

He's incredible.

Colin Sykes didn't know who I was.

I don't know who Colin Sykes is. There you go. Swings and roundabouts.

Who am I? Well, we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?

Morning, morning, morning. So what's the story in Bala-fucking-mory?

Reshuffle. Excellent. You win a year's supply of condoms. Which in your case is four.

Anything? Fattie's just been in.

You know, he just managed to squeeze past the policeman.

If you were promoted, good for you.

If it was a relegation, hard cheese.

If he dumps me, I'm going to find that wife of his

and click her right through the fucking head. Yeah. PHONE RINGS

How d'you like this jib, darling? Bang! That noise is the phone.

I know, I know. I'm in denial.

If you don't know whether or not you were promoted or relegated, guess what? You were fucking relegated.

Great. OK, bye-bye. He wants me to go in.

Just hope it isn't farmers.

I just don't want to pretend to be nice to farmers.

Knock it out the park! Yeah, good luck.

Welcome back to lovely Robyn from the all new,

totally revamped Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship. APPLAUSE

I've got no fucking idea what that means either, but it spells SAC.

Thank you. Thank you very much. No autographs please.

SAC unfortunately are being turfed out of their rather tatty

old building, to be replaced by Julius Nicholson and his Advanced Implementation Unit.

And onto the broadcast schedule for today. Colin did Today which was lovely.

Sweet FA for the World at One, please, as usual.

You know the lines, "Most women ever.

"Younger average age than the AC Milan defence."

This programme contains very strong language.

I'm the Minister for fucking Social Affairs.

Hugh Abbott. Problems?

Terri, explain that I'm the reason they're here.