Series 2 – Episode 2

This programme contains strong language.

It's up to the PM. I'll go wherever he wants. Bye-bye. Morning. Morning, Minister.

You just off to your 8.30 with Malcolm?

Yep. First one.

Into the lion's den. Viper's pit.

The belly of the beast. The lair of the white worm.

The eye of the snake. Mm.

Not all of departments get asked to the 8.30. That's true.

So it's a great honour to be there with the big hitters. Always best to be inside the tent pissing out.

Absolutely. If you were doing this at Environment and Rural Affairs, 8.30,

you'd be very much outside the tent, wouldn't you? Probably at Coffee Republic.

Covered in piss. Yeah. Good luck. You'll be fine.

You don't need good luck. Yeah.

What about the...piss? No, no, no, it's just a figure of speech.

I'd better go. See you later, Robyn. OK. I'm sure there's a way of..

Robyn? Robyn, sorry.

Could you try and pick up any signals you can from Malcolm about...about...

..about the reshuffle, you know.

I've really got to go now cos I'm going to be late.

Yeah, God, don't be late! Apparently they shout things at the last one in.

If anyone shouts at you, they'll have to answer to me.

I'll box his ears.

Box his ears?

If that was flirting, that was absolutely crap. Why? Box his ears?

How long is it since you've had sex?

That is between me and my internet service provider. Anyway about this morning...

You've actually gone red, Glenn.

You have. You've gone red.

I have not gone red. That's red.

Yeah. Look, he can hardly walk properly.

Morning, morning, morning. Morning. OK, I want to have a little bit of a think

about some of our presentational issues with regard to yesterday.

There seems to have been a bit of a problem last night with Liam on Newsnight.

I would like to know, why did we have a minister on last night who did not appear to know the lines?

It's not his fault. We grilled him before... Grilled him? He's got a new baby...

I don't care if he's got a new baby. I don't care if he's tired.

He looked like he didn't know what he was fucking talking about.

He doesn't know what he was fucking talking about, but he's got to appear as if he does, right?

And that is your job and your job yours, yours, yours, and yours, yours, and yours.

For all your respective ministers.

Give them the lines. Right?

Yep. Give them all the lines to say?

This is the delightful Robyn. She's just with us today.

She's standing in for Terri Coverley at the Department of Social Affairs. So let's be gentle with her, please.

No remarks about the Department of Stuffed Anuses or the Department

of Stupid Announcements, or the Department of Sod All.

Right, next. Reshuffle?

Yes, there is a pending reshuffle. I can see we're not going to get anything past you.

There was a young girl from DOSA who helped herself to a samosa...

Ah! No, next time. Sorry, just a bit of fun.

Um, yes, the reshuffle. No, yes, well, definitely... We don't know anything.

I don't know anything, so, um, we can't say anything, but even

if we did, we wouldn't, but we don't, so we both can't and won't.

Last cabinet before reshuffle. What do you think? Should I go in there with all guns blazing,

new policy ideas and do a big sort of ha-cha-cha-cha-cha, you know?

Or should I be more "mmm", like Buddha? You don't have to do either.

You could just sort of nod quietly, nod wisely every so often and just,

have a policy in your back pocket just in case you feel...

OK. What's the policy I've got in my back pocket?

Tripling the number of quiet carriages on intercity trains.

Oh, wow, what a big exciting hard-on moment that's going to be.

That's not bad at all. Did you just think of that? Straight out of there.

Hugh, after Cabinet, you are going to...

Talk to Tucker about the reshuffle. Yeah. I'll pop in and just slip it in during the conversation.

Good. Much as you intended to do with Robyn, I suspect.

Right, next. What about Julius Nicholson?

I got it yesterday he was looking at the MoD taking over UK security from the Home Office.

That was flown by one of Nicholson's mob. I'm spending half my time

dealing with this rubbish that Nicholson's putting out there.

There's a Sunday piece in the pipeline about you and him not getting along.

I wondered if you'd got a line. Julius Nicholson is a hugely respected adviser.

He now has a wide-ranging brief and his blue-sky vision and

helicopter thinking will enable this government to go,

in his own phrase, "beyond delivery and beyond that".

That's the line, OK? And if he does stick his baldy head round your door and comes up with some stupid idea

about policemen's helmets should be yellow or let's set up a department to count the moon,

just treat him like someone with Alzheimer's disease, you know?

Just say to him, "Oh, yeah, that's lovely.

"We must talk about that later," OK?

In no way, shape or form is it going to have... KNOCK AT DOOR

Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off.

I'll come the fuck in, then. It's just something that Nicholson's flown.

It's a kind of brain exercise, like, "What would it be like if men had tits?" You know?

Mark Mardell, yeah. That's very good actually.

All right then, see you then. Hugh. I thought you would want to know as soon as possible. What?

Terri's dad... Yeah?

No news at the moment. Right, so you've come to talk about the reshuffle? Yeah, I have.

Yeah? In terms of shuffly stuff,

how is Neil? I mean,

is his heart...?

Have you not heard? No.

He's paralysed. Oh, no.

Neil's on wheels.

You're kidding. He's a vegetable.

Oh, my God. Yeah.

Mind you, that means you could have his department. You are kidding. Well, fuck you very much.

I know you're looking for mouth-to-mouth on the reshuffle, but I know nothing.

The PM is still working it out on the back of a Coldplay CD as we speak. Are you in, sir?

Oh, this is Julius Nicholson. Hello. Nice to see you again. What proposals have you got for us today?

How about a ban on sandcastles?

No, I just wanted to find out if you're coming to my FSG briefing this afternoon.

FSG briefing? Forward Strategy Group.

Well, you know, Julius, I think I'm just going to have to send one of the boys.

I have got so much work to do here, what with this...

Well... .the MoD.

As the minister said to the prince, "Don't be surprised if we abolish you."

I'll leave it with you.

That was a bit, um...

Are you all right? I'm fucking all right. I can fucking look after myself.

Under the spotlight now, aren't you? Well, you should just watch your own back,

what with the missus dripping poison into the big guy's ear about you. What missus?

The Prime Minister's missus. Oh, you don't know?

She doesn't like the cut of your jib, son. She doesn't... She's hardly seen my jib.

I just had a conversation with her at the New Year's party, that's all.

Why doesn't she like me? I mean, what's not to like?

You just didn't click. We couldn't click! We were talking about the fucking Euro!

How are you supposed to click over the Euro? It's fucking impossible. Don't take it so personally.

You're telling me she doesn't like me as a person! How else am I supposed to take it?

Robyn, can you send these back to archives cos they're just not even...

It's not highlighted. I'm not gonna plough through that myself.

I also need the last four months of the European Digest. I'll...

Is it because you fancy me? Is that what this is all about?

Sorry? Why you're so bloody rude to me.

That's got to be the reason. Other people, when they come in here,

they knock and they say "hello", "good morning", "thank you" and "nice top" sometimes.

Right, um... Well, no. I mean, for a start, I don't fancy you.

I don't know where you got that, but it's best to get it out of your head.

If I'm slightly polite to you, on a semi-regular basis, will that, in any way bypass it?

That would definitely do it. Well, thank you very much for the work you do.

Hi, by the way, how are you?

I'm very well actually. You look lovely.

Thank you. Can I have the fucking digest, please?

That would be terrific.

All you had to do was ask, please. Yeah, well, all I did do was ask.

Phwoar! It was a joke.

Hello. Hello. Um... Morning, Minister.

Um, I need to have a word with you, Ollie.

Then can you get me Terri on the phone, please? Where is Glenn?

Er, Nicholson hauled him in for one of his chats.

Oh. One of his bright ideas for inflatable churches for rural communities or tattooing immigrants.

Apparently, the PM's wife doesn't like me.

Did you know this?

No. Um...why?

Well, two reasons - cut of my jib and insufficient clicking.

So I'll be a minor footnote in British political history

cos I didn't have an anecdote about Charlotte Church's puppies. We can brainstorm small-talk...

Ollie, realistically, I'm not going to get promotion, not while this Prime Minister's still in power?

Not while he's married to this wife. Mind you, knowing your luck,

he'll leave her, she'll marry his replacement.

I did mention your great quiet carriages thing and he just...

..went, you know. What does that mean? Fuck knows what it means,

but I don't think it means, "Oh, Hugh, you're fantastic.

"Here, become Home Secretary," and even if it did mean that, when he's

in bed tonight with Mrs PM, she'll say, "What do you mean Hugh Abbott as Home Secretary?

"The man is a social spastic and very probably a registered nonce, darling."

Terri on line one, and there's her dad's name.

All right. Dad's name? Hell...hello.

Hello, how are you? 'I'm not great actually, Hugh...'

Yes, goodness me. Please be sure to send my best to...to...

to your dad.

Look, I heard today that the PM's wife doesn't like me.

Did you know about this? 'Yeah, I did know that.'

I know about the lack of click. Was there anything else? 'Hugh, my dad is dying.'

Of course. Thanks so much for taking the time to talk to me Terri, really.

It must be a...you know... Well, obviously, it's a very, very hard time for you and,

it's just ironic that it happens to have coincided with such a very hard time for me.

Because, you know, I thought I was solid with the reshuffle.

But, er, now, you know with the not clicking bombshell...

I need to give the impression that I'm not budging, I'm staying exactly where I am,

you know, I'm here for ever, like, you know, like, um...

like Ken, um...

Livingstone? Russell?

Hom? Barlow?

Barlow, like Ken Barlow, I'm solid.

Fucking arse clap. Robyn...

Look, I don't want to say this too many times, but the fact is Nicholson's shafted us.

He's cut us out of the 8.30 briefings.

That's awful. Yes, I know, but for now, this

department is no longer going to any of Malcolm's 8.30 briefings, OK? Tomorrow morning, I just stay here?

That's right. I don't want to alarm Hugh... God, this gets worse! Listen to me, Robyn.

He's got quite enough on his mind at the moment, so tomorrow morning, what you do is you leave here at

the same time, about 8.20 and you fuck off out of and go and sit in a park or something, OK?

Not tell Hugh? Yes. It's only temporary.

I'm going to sort it out.

Won't it just be a bit demeaning?

Terri says there's a list of Question Time producers in her top desk drawer. Are you OK, Robyn?

Um, yeah. Have you been touching her inappropriately?

Fuck off. Yes, I've got the producer's names, so

thanks for that and is there anything else, though, that I could do, like photo ops or, er, a little party?

Schmooze the broadsheets, you know, tell them how much I love running social affairs.

'Whatever, whatever.' Yeah, that would work wouldn't it? Everyone loves a party?

Yeah. Well, I don't personally, but people do. Get your head round this. You'll go to a park. Which park?

Just choose... Green Park. I don't like Green Park.

Which park do you like? St James's Park.

Right, you go to St James's Park, then, OK?

I think we should tell the Minister. Listen, Robyn, I really like you, but fuck off!

Has he been touching you inappropriately again?

Don't you start. Oh, God, I'm rubbish, apparently.

That's why Nicholson has banned us from the 8.30 meetings, and I've got to go and sit in

St James's Park and pretend I'm in a meeting drinking coffee all morning.

I wouldn't worry. There should be about five of you there doing that.

Oh, God! This is just another example of thinking out of the box

by someone who's clearly out of his fucking tree. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, OK, bye.

Malcolm Tucker. Julius Nicholson, what can I do you for?

I am keen to have a chat with Keith Percival.

Yeah, er, that won't be possible.

And I need to read the O'Rourke papers. I'm afraid not. Anything else?

Look, Malcolm, you and I both know full well that my power and authority

flows directly from the PM. If you've got a problem... Keith is so busy with real governmental work

that he doesn't have time to discuss with you your ideas and theories.

The O'Rourke papers are not relevant to anything we can actually action at this moment.

That's slightly funny because when I played tennis with the PM, which I do, as you know,

every Sunday, he was saying just how much he was looking forward to seeing that paper.

He does think that your theories are interesting. He tells me that because I see him every day.

I also see him on a Sunday when I see his family and I make the fucking waffles.

But I cannot allow you to come in here

and interfere with the actual process of government.

Malcolm, that is my job. That is what is happening.

Malcolm, Malcolm, sorry, there are going to be big changes around here.

Are there? Get used to it. We'll announce all this at the reshuffle.

With all due respect, Julius, the reshuffle is the business of the PM,

and the PM alone, which means that is my business, my remit.

Malcolm, historically yes, but now it's part of my remit. OK, I'll tell you what we should do.

Why don't we just get our remits out, slap them on the table and see who's got the biggest fucking remit?

Malcolm, we need to talk about accommodation, we need to talk about access...

Accommodation? Why am I talking about accommodation? It's a 21-man department.

We can't fit upstairs. This is ideal.

21 men in here?

Not just in here, no. This office here... Yeah.

..will be perfectly usable for not only myself... That's not an office. It is an office. It's a pantry.

Whatever it is, we will refit this out as a working office and... Julius, it's a fucking pantry, look.

So what? What we'll do is we will kick through this,

bang, straight into the PM's private study.

What are people going to say

when they come in and they say, "Where is Julius Nicholson?"

I'm here. He's in the pantry! Here I am. They're going to ridicule you. They'll start saying...

Why would they ridicule me over the fact... "Where's the bankrupt in the cupboard?"

Why are you behaving like a complete and utter prick?

I'm supposed to polish you up, burnish you up, when get your big break and you're on fucking

Call My Bluff or whatever it is, I'm supposed to be... Come back in here!

Hey, come back in here! Julius, get the fuck back in here!

Please, please, come back.

Let's be civilised. Let's be civilised about it.

Let's be civilised. There are human resources outside. There are human resources outside.

Go over to your fucking pantry, right. This is a perfectly usable office space.