The Thick of It2005

Cliff Lawton:
Malcolm, look, if you do this, it's the bollocks of a jungle out there. They're like wolves, pissed wolves.

Malcolm Tucker:
I've made the announcement, I've told the lobby you're going, Cliff.

Cliff Lawton:
You've told the lobby I'm going?

Malcolm Tucker:
Yeah, sorry, Cliff.

Cliff Lawton:
Minister.

Malcolm Tucker:
Yeah, get used to Cliff. I've booked you in for the usual soapy tit-wank farewell at Number 10 in twenty minutes. Also, drafted you a letter of resignation. Gives you the chance to say that you're jumping before you're pushed, although obviously we're gonna be briefing that you WERE pushed, sorry.

Cliff Lawton:
Erm... look, you don't need to do all this. What about Tom? Everybody knows that he's f***ing up Transport.

Malcolm Tucker:
We can't sack Tom at Transport. We can't lose anyone at Transport, they're important.

Cliff Lawton:
What, and Social Affairs isn't?

Malcolm Tucker:
Ok, the Department of Social Affairs is very important, but it's not Transport! Transport's cars, busses, trucks!

Cliff Lawton:
I know what Transport f***ing entails! [Tucker looks at him frighteningly] Look, I'll look at it. [reads the resignation letter] Personal reasons?

Malcolm Tucker:
Yeah, I thought it would give you an ediquate scope.

Cliff Lawton:
Scope? What, like shooting up at the Cabinet office, or something? Stuffing a cat up my arse and having a wank, what do you mean, scope?

Malcolm Tucker:
You know, this could be agreat deal worse. You have had a good innings, you've been here for 18 months. And, you know, I've written some very nice things about you in the PM's reply to your resignation. Some very nice f***ing things indeed! I had a lump in my throat! And you know why? Because no one who matters thinks any less of you over this SO FAR, ok? Right, one more thing. The Daily Mail. David Topham has got it into his head that we are gonna sack you because of press presure.

Cliff Lawton:
I wonder why.

Malcolm Tucker:
Look, you are in no position to dish out f***ing sarcasm, that's over! You no longer have punctures in the sarcasm world! Get on the phone! Tell him that you're jumping before you're pushed, although we were going to push you, but not because of press presure but because of your deeply held f***ing personal issues, whatever they are!

Cliff Lawton:
You want me to write my own obituary.

Malcolm Tucker:
Get on the f***ing phone, do it now.