Incident Reports

I've got to go. The minister's just walked in.

Don't interrupt your call because of me. You're a minister of the Crown.

my cock-up, as usual. I thought that Graham Dixon was doing a briefing, and it turns out it's Graham Hughes.

God, look, I'm sorry about the fuck-up about the coffee. Oh, God...

How am I supposed to run a department if I can't get the Prime Minister's enforcer a cup of fucking coffee?

With all this shit in the paper about whether I'm going or not... Yeah.

Would you like some coffee? Fuck off! Tea?

You fuck off, darling.

Minister... Yeah, get used to "Cliff".

Look, you don't need to do all this. What about Tom, yeah? Everybody knows he's fucking up Transport.

I know what Transport fucking entails!

HUGH SIGHS DEEPLY

Some very nice fucking things indeed! I had a lump in my throat, and you know why?

I wonder why(!) Look, you're in no position to dish out fucking sarcasm, that's over.

before you are pushed. We were going to push you because of your deeply-held fucking personal issues!

Get on the fucking phone!

He's here now, so don't worry. Morning, Hugh!

because I had a chat with my very good friend the Prime Minister of Great Britain... Oh, really? Oh?

The Prime Minister's view is, "Fuck the spending implications, I like it."

It's a chance for me, Glenn, to get on Richard And Judy and plant that flag right on their fucking sofa.

So the Prime Minister's authorised you to announce it?

It was a fucking e-mail! It wasn't a text message. She'll write what we want. She's easy.

The Prime Minister is above the Treasury in the hierarchy.

Very good, Minister, I'll get to it. Yeah. You're just doing your job. Yeah. (Not very well.)

Thanks. The driver. ..Technically. Yeah. Will it be my driver? Yes. I don't fucking like him. Why not?

No. Hugh he likes you, I'm sure.

'The World At One, this is Nick Clarke with 30 minutes of news and...' You can fuck off!

'This afternoon the Social Affairs Secretary, Hugh Abbot...' Evening!

'First, estimates of fatalities from yesterday's train disaster in Bangalore have risen overnight...'

What the fuck was that? Was this whole Snooper Force thing from you?

I'll tell you why I'm upset. I'm upset because these fucking morons over at the Treasury are paranoid!

Malcolm... You don't seem to understand that I'm going to have to mop up a fucking hurricane of piss

from all of these neurotics. What did the Prime Minister actually say?

Well, fuck the TV cameras! Think of something else to say,

but don't mention the Snooper Force or whatever the fuck you call it!

Hugh, talk to me. Hugh, what's going on? What's the matter?

What's the problem? Fuck...

Hugh, what? Stop saying what. Right. I shouldn't have been sucked in! Is this Tucker jumping on this?

I think he was right. He's always fucking right.

Hugh... When Tucker was talking to me, "should" didn't mean "yes".

Something like, Social Affairs Minister Hugh Abbot

It isn't fucking appreciated right now.

The last thing I want to do today is be stuck in a fucking lay-by, begging my ex-girlfriend!

Yes. You should have said something before, Glenn, because I've got a file that fucking thick of that

and they said it was fucking disgusting, the state of it.

That's shit, isn't it?

You've fucking cracked! Are you mad?

That's what we've been doing! We've been doing our fucking jobs! Yes, they never print that stuff, do they?

Well, that was a fucking disaster.

Fucking well done, mate! You turned it around.

All those years at the coal-face, hanging in, taking all the shit.

When you're senior Cabinet minister, then we'll show them. And Snooper Force... What? We'll get rid of that.

Oh, for fuck sake, yeah! Fiddling while Rome burns. Fucking right!

Instead of all the shit that we do. Have to do. It's a means to an end!

Fuck me, Malcolm! How do you do that?

Prime Minister, obviously he's on the plane in Stockholm, and somebody hits him with The World At One.

Don't should me, Hugh,

It's should in the sense that you should do as you're fucking told. Yeah. What...

Fuck them.

I have to fucking explain it to you! You haven't been here long enough.

You cunt! We're fucked! Great(!)

This is the real world, Terri. We're fucked.

a fucking porn picture of a girl sucking a big cock,

with your face and name on it, Glenn's, Hugh's, and big arrows showing who spoke to who

and how you all fucked it up! I think I could write that one myself, Olly.

or a fucking whiff of a story, so long as she kept her sorry hack bitch face

Hello? Hugh Abbot here...

and making snide remarks about how I don't know who Gail Porter is! We did dick her about, Hugh. Yeah.

You look like shit. I know.

Look, Hugh do yourself a favour stay over in the flat.

Ooh, good call. Yeah Hugh, not remembering the dead,

We're going to get this tosser, Hugh, don't you worry.

This is a bucket of shit, if someone throws shit at us we throw shit back at them.

We start a shit fight, we throw so much shit back at them

that they can't pick up shit, they can't throw shit, they can't do shit.

Litter? Dog shit? Aiming high(!)

We aimed high and now we're at dog shit. So, what you're...

Hugh's predecessor, they're as tight as arse-cheeks. Are they now?

Well, fuck knows, but that's what we're saying, OK?

Hughie Abbot, the in-touch guy, you're on the ball,

You've got absolutely no fucking idea what I'm talking about, do you?

Hugh, what is a chav? A chav, you must know what a chav...

This is important stuff, Hugh.

Right, we do a weekly digest for the Prime Minister,

then I'll go and tell people that the apples, they're shit, Olly.

Hugh, if we are going to spend tax payers' money

into productions of The fucking Cherry Orchard,

It's a song, Hugh. Yeah, I know.

It is as my mother would have said, "Double wank and shit shifts."

But do you think it's got legs, Hugh?

She's shit. I wouldn't go that far.

She's a box-ticker Hugh, she can't think outside the box.

What the fuck are you playing at, Hugh?

Are you playing at being a Minister,

or are you actually a real life fucking Minister?

I'm a real life Minister.

I've never seen headlines like it. In what way? It's all gone to shite.

They fucking loathe it. Are you getting all this, Hugh?

I'm plugged into the matrix, I am the fucking matrix.

Get a press release in the oven, fuck off the lot of you.

And Hugh, watch that tape...

I enjoy domestic violence and sun dried fucking Karaoke.

it's sort of inspired by your latest policy disaster.

Fuck off back to your match reports, you twat.

Hello. Hugh, it's Terri. Yeah, hello.

Yes, snuggle up, bye-bye. Night, Hugh.

How fucked am I?

In terms of negative publicity, on the fuckometer, where am I?

Right, so I'm 24% fucked according to you

but according to you I'm 120% fucked.

I'm bringing forward Hugh's interview with Angela Heaney to this afternoon.

Shit. Yeah, I know but people watch it, this gets six million.

Oh, shit.

She's in The fucking Bill.

This doesn't necessarily have to be a total fucking disaster.

they're fucking actors so they're not technically people at all.

Your fucking legend is a fucking actress.

Hire an opinionist, it's only three Liberals, two fucking Mavericks and a racist!

Why didn't you run it past me for once? Oh, shit, shit!

Fuck, fuck!

Yes... Come out of the cupboard, Hugh. No.

Hugh, we have to sort this out.

So "middle England" is a big fucking field with one woman standing in it.

Of course he fucking will, she's his mole.

We put out the story the way we want it, before Hewitt fucks us up the bugle, get onto it now.

It's not my fault. The agency lied to us, Hugh, the agency lied to me, it's not my responsibility...

What the fuck? You're a broken vase.

You want me to wear a fucking Hawaiian shirt? I'll see if we can find one(!)

No, she can't have a car. Don't fucking mother me, OK?

Mary, you know Hugh, you've met Glenn before... Yeah...

and you end up all over the place like a crazy woman's shit and that's OUR problem.

That film Notting Hill, have you seen that? She's probably fucking in it.

That's going to be you, darling, they'll be all over you like fucking cockroaches.

so I hope your knickers are clean because every sniffing shit-bag

cos now it's in the fucking public interest, isn't it?

And they're gonna hit you with any shit they can find

I mean I don't know what shit that he made you sign

but whatever it was it was bullshit.

No I... You fucking spoke to Simon Hewitt.

He's a fat guy with a tiny little dick, you fucking spoke to him.

You didn't speak to him. She didn't fucking speak to him.

Fuck's sake. What's the matter with him? Olly...

Jesus. For fuck's sake!

She didn't even know. Fuck 'em.

Of course it's going to fucking go ahead,

I mean I'm good but I can't fucking hold back the tide!

You're fucking on your own!

I know you're asleep by now from Hugh, love to the kids,

How many did Doug's piece of shit get at report? God, at least 200.

Then it got fucked in the Lords. It was more amendment than Bill, in the end. We're doing a press release?

"Hugh Abbot, today announced...

"I'm the fuckin' daddy!"

Dan fucking Miller! Yeah.

Dan Miller is a junior minister and he's not done at all badly. Just a bit green. Now... You turning...

..a bit green yourself there, minister? What're you saying? What you saying? You saying I'm jealous?

I know where it's fucking been.

Bit of supper with the Prime Minister, just the two of us.

you give me Hugh Abbot, I'll give you bangers and mash.

to a fuckin' risotto and scallops, you know?

Fucking hell, this... No, it's not funny. Political breakthrough night!

Fuck, yes! Wish me luck. I'm going without the tie.

Obviously life and death(!) Infected ear, huge crisis,

hold the front-page Shuttle disaster(!) I had to drive 20 miles

(a huge, fuck-off, grace-and-favour pad. Why haven't I got one?)

Good evening, Minister. Oh! Thank you! If you'd like to step this way.

Ah'm gonna take you DOWN, mu'fucker! Where are you from?

I'm from Lincolnshire - the windmills, the potatoes, the shit.

I think the Minister's ducking. He's actually ducked!

I TOLD him that fucking flat w...

Fuck! She's just gone to The Mail. I'm onto it!

Where the fuck is he?! The goldfish bowl. Fuck!

I am very sorry... Can I just borrow the minister for a moment? Sure.

..know what the fuck is going on?!

..FUCKED...! Do let me know if you need anything.

"Fuck off, he's selling it. Go away." Then Hugh's got a place in town.

Why the fuck is your girlfriend hitting us with this? She's not my girlfriend, Malcolm.

which masks many negative feelings about this fuckin' department. MOBILE RINGS

Hugh. Hmm? Did you mention me by name? Um...

Thank you very much! Thanks a fucking bunch!

"Minister In Disgusting Defecation Outburst"! Mollie Sugden at No. 10 - did you enjoy your shit, Mr Abbot?

They should just clone ministers so we're born at 55 with no past.

like that fucking brushed-aluminium Dan Miller cyberprick!

Steely-jawed, far-away look in your eyes. Before they sit in the pub going, "That fucker's got to go,"

"He was hounded out by the fucking Press!" How about THAT, huh?

(It's probably gonna be... It's gonna be Hugh that has to go this time.)

Tom's finishing up with the Prime Minister now. I'm gonna join them.

Any fucker can sit behind a pot-plant,

and I'll put the letter on Hugh's desk. I can very easily say the same!

I'M not doing that. Why the fuck not? Hugh's my friend, I'M not doing it.

by his fucking wig.

Well, fuck off!

Thank you! You're a fucking star. That's OK.

Sam... Yeah, of course. ..Hugh, Hugh.

Yes? Prime Minister. Could you...?

Oh! Hello. Is everything all right, Minister? Mmm.

What? 'Put me on the speakerphone.' It's the minister. Oh. '..Inquiry.'

Hugh. Oh! ..Malcolm's just joined us.

Right, Hugh, um...the good news.

OK, fuck off, you've a department to run.

I want you, Terri and Ollie over here right now. Not Hugh.

Do not bring Hugh to Downing Street.

Hugh, I've seen Monkton's report. It's not good. OK.

Ah, Hugh. Yup. Bye. Yup.

Hugh. I mean, with the other two, it's just another day, eh? I know.

Department of fucking shocking, shitty, charlatan SHIT! That's...

Oh, Dan! Hi, Hugh. Is Ollie about? No, he's with Tucker. They all are.

just talking about how fucked I am.

I'd actually be Prime Minister by now.

The line is we don't throw a good man to the wolves over one little fuck-up.

So Hugh's staying? Yeah.

Tell the wolves to fuck off. Not exactly.

We've been through this! Apparently, I'm Ronald fucking McDonald(!)

Grow up! Don't give me that pile of fucking bollocks!

Just because you're a civil servant, don't think your shit doesn't smell!

You're so fucking repressed... I was just playing squash!

Well DON'T, Hugh! No, I've been thinking. It'll be VERY good.

And I'll be shot of this fucking department. Takes four days to get a memo through! "Social Affairs."

What the fuck does it actually MEAN?

It's so vague. "Hello, I'm Hugh Abbot, the Minister for...

Minister, hello. Just going to see Mr Tucker. Oh, I'm sorry. Mr Tucker has someone there.

Yeah. Little shit, anyway, Dan Miller.

See you. Goodnight. Goodnight, Hugh.

Where the fuck's Terri! Oh, Terri? Did you not know? Malcolm's...

My milkman knows. Hugh, I have some wonderful news for you.

I'm sorry. I was just shitting you. It was just an early-morning joke.

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

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

Where's Neil? Leicester, poor fucker.

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

I nearly liked the enormous fucker reading it.

And how's the minister? He's shitting himself.

"Just fucking waiting."

For fuck's sake. But everybody knows the lines, yeah?

I'll punch you in your substantial gut! Fucking hell, Robyn!

You little fucker. I got it, look.

Hugh, can we do the prep for the factory visit now?

Sam, a coffee and a fucking skinny muffin if that's possible.

hat the fuck are YOU doing HERE?

Good fucking man! Good to meet you.

He's the guy that fucked the opposition for us.

Would you just nod when the big fucker talks,

but look, I've got brains coming out of my fucking arse.

Yep. Listen, don't touch the keyboard. Bob'll go fucking nuts.

What, they've been after you for stuff about me? Your fucking whips?

How much fucking shit is there on the menu, and what fucking flavour is it?!

It's like this furnace of shit.

Well, here we are, Hugh.

Hello. Hugh Abbot. Nice to meet you.

The minister would love to know.

Can you please shut up for one fucking minute?!

Now, Hugh. I'm going to have to hang up.

Yeah. Well, how did you get... No, you fucking don't!

The wrong fucking answer!

and fucking maim every single fucking one of them, OK?

He's one of these fucking Popsbridge types.