Caption: and his advisor, pretty much telling a member of the public to fuck off.

What can we get you?

How can... What can we...?

Your man, looking like a prat,

Right. Although, if that's going to run,

I need a picture of the advisor. OLLIE'S PHONE RINGS

Just bear with me. ..For fuck's sake!

Oliver Reeder.

Have you sorted it, Ollie? It's not quite sorted just yet, Malcolm.

Should I send Jamie over? Would you like that? No, no.

You and Jamie and a rubber truncheon locked in that fucking newsroom. No, I'm fine.

Make me happy. Bring me sunshine.

Right. I'll make you happy, Malcolm.