Simon Foster: Judy and I thought I could row back on Question Time, tonight Malcolm Tucker: You're not going on Question Time tonight, you've been disinvited Simon Foster: We've been prepping Question Time! Judy: Why wasn't I told about this? Malcolm Tucker: Why the fuck would I tell you about it? I've just told you to fuck off twice yet you're still here? Judy: You should tell me about it as it's a scheduled media appearance by a member of this department and therefore it falls well within my purview! Malcolm Tucker: Within your 'purview'? Where do you think you are, some fucking regency costume drama? This is a government department, not some fucking Jane fucking Austen novel! Allow me to pop a jaunty little bonnet on your purview and ram it up your shitter with a lubricated horse cock! Judy: Your swearing does not impress me. My husband works for Tower Hamlets and believe me those kids make you sound like... Angela Lansbury! Malcolm Tucker: [to Simon] She's married? Poor bastard. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Fuckety-bye-bye then! ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: "Climbing the mountain of conflict"? You sounded like a Nazi Julie Andrews! ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Y'know, I've come across a lot of psychos, but none as fucking boring as you. You are a real boring fuck. Sorry, sorry, I know you disapprove of swearing so I'll sort that out. You are a boring F, star, star, CUNT! ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: Twelve thousand troops. But that's not enough. That's the amount that are going to die. And at the end of a war you need some soldiers left, really, or else it looks like you've lost. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: This is the minister of international development here, he should be talking about... food parcels... not... fucking, arse-spraying mayhem! ________________________________________ Paul Michaelson: Am I calm? I'm fucking ZEN! ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: You sure you're working as hard as I am, 'cause I'm sweating spinal fluid here! ________________________________________ Judy: You know they're all kids in Washington? It's like Bugsy Malone, but with real guns. ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: You think that's his real name? Iceman? To Mr. and Mrs. Man, a son... Ice? ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: General Flintstone... Was it you? Did you leak PWIP-PIP? Lt. Gen. George Miller: No, I didn't leak it. I'm not like some little gay mercenary running around doing other people's dirty work. Malcolm Tucker: Hey, I'm doing my own dirty work. I'm doing my job. Lt. Gen. George Miller: I think you're doing Linton's dirty work. You're his little English bitch and you don't even know it. Bet if I came to your hotel room tonight, I'd find you down on all fours, him hanging out the back of you. Malcolm Tucker: Oh, that's nice. That's really tough talk coming from the Armchair General. Put your feet up on a pouffe and go back to sleep, why don't you. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Look, Tucker, you might be some scary little poodlefucker over in England, but out here you're nothing. You know what you look like? A squeezed dick. You got a big blue vein running up your head all the way to the temple. See, that's where I'd put the bullet. Only I'd have to stand back 'cause you look like a squirter. Malcolm Tucker: Have you ever even actually killed anybody? Really? Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah. Malcolm Tucker: Falling asleep on someone, that doesn't count! Lt. Gen. George Miller: That's funny. What about you, pussy drip? Ever kill anyone? Malcolm Tucker: Maiming's what I prefer. Psychologically. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah? Why don't you try to maim me? I'll hit you so hard in the face you'll be shitting teeth. Malcolm Tucker: Go right ahead. I can see the headlines now. "Peace-Loving General Starts Brawl in U.N., Swiss Intervene". I don't know, I'm no expert on spin but that could hurt your career. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah? Malcolm Tucker: Right. Do excuse me, I've got to get back to work. [pause] Malcolm Tucker: Don't ever call me fucking English again. ________________________________________ Toby Wright: [looking at George Washington monument] See that? Pull that out, America deflates. Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, it's very easy to mock. The closest you'll ever get to one of those is buying a fucking Toblerone. I'll wait in the car. Simon Foster: So what are we going back to, apart from a nice cup of tea and some knife crime? Toby Wright: Constituency surgery in Northamptonshire. Simon Foster: Oh, great. Meeting my constituents. It's like being Simon Cowell, only without the ability to say, "Fuck off, you're mental". ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: So you're not resigning? Karen Clarke: Are you still playing the hawk? Simon Foster: Well, in... in a way I'm playing a much cleverer game than that... I'm a fake hawk. Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] A what? Simon Foster: ...Fake hawk? Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] You're an idiot. Or are you a... fake idiot? ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Do I look like I've ever set foot in a stationery cupboard? I do all my shagging in five-star hotels! ________________________________________ Linton Barwick: I can't stand to see a woman bleed from the mouth. It reminds me of that Country & Western music which I cannot abide. ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: All right, that's enough with the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries. Toby Wright: Wh... What's Oxbridge about saying hello? Jamie MacDonald: SHUT IT, Love Actually! You want me to hole-punch your face? ________________________________________ Chad: You're like the woman from The Omen. You've given birth to a demon, and now it's gonna kill you. Liza Weld: You probably identify with the kid from The Omen, right? Chad: Ooh! Liza Weld: See, you're an only child, aren't you? Chad: I gotta say, I don't understand how my parents' limited reproductive ability reflects badly on me. I'm the sperm that made it! ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: Turn that fucking racket off! It's just VOWELS! Subsidised... foreign... vowels! ________________________________________ Linton Barwick: It's early days, my friends. All roads lead to Munich. [leaves] Malcolm Tucker: 'All roads lead to Munich... ' What the fuck does that mean? Simon Foster: Well, I think it means, uh... actually, no, no, I don't know what it means. ________________________________________ Sir Jonathan Tutt: Let me tell you the process here, Malcolm, and why that's not possible... Malcolm Tucker: Just fucking do it! Otherwise you'll find yourself in some medieval war zone in the Caucasus with your arse in the air, trying to persuade a group of men in balaclavas that sustained sexual violence is not the fucking way forward! ________________________________________ Simon Foster: That's not supposed to be out there... Malcolm Tucker: Well, it is out there, it's out there now, lurking like a big hairy rapist at a coach station. You know, if I could, I'd punch you into paralysis! ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: I'm a voracious reader. I'm the Gore Vidal of the Pentagon. Karen Clarke: Gore's gay. Lt. Gen. George Miller: No, he's not! Karen Clarke: I beg to differ, but... Lt. Gen. George Miller: He's gay? 'Cause I've been saying that Gore Vidal line. Karen Clarke: He is gay. Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] Guess I'd better stop saying that then. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: You concentrate on nothing! You stay detached, or else that's what I'll do to your retinas. Simon Foster: Can I go to bed now, please? Malcolm Tucker: Oh no. We're gonna stay here, and you are gonna rehearse saying nothing. Simon Foster: ...Am I being tortured? ________________________________________ [first lines] Malcolm Tucker: Good morning, my little chicks and cocks. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: Tobes, I don't want to have to read you the riot act but I am going to have to read you some extracts from the riot act, like section one, paragraph one: don't leave your boss twisting in the wind and then burst in late, smelling like a pissed seaside donkey. Toby Wright: Look, alright, I was late for the meeting, Simon, I am sorry, but it's not like I threw up in there, is it? Simon Foster: No, you're right, I'm being unfair. I should be thanking you for not throwing up. Well done, you're a star. You didn't wet yourself, did you? You're in the right city. You didn't say anything overtly racist. You didn't pull your cock out and start plucking it and shouting "Willy Banjo". No, I'm being really unfair. You'd got so much right, without actually being there in the beginning of one of the most important moments of my career. Thanks, you're a legend. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Fucking hung up, haven't you? You fucking hoity-toity fucking... Tourist: Hey, buddy? Enough with the curse words, all right? Malcolm Tucker: Kiss my sweaty balls, you fat fuck. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Linton! Linton! Linton Barwick: Mr Tucker, isn't it? Nice to see you again. Malcolm Tucker: Are you fucking me about? Linton Barwick: Is there a problem, Mr Tucker? Malcolm Tucker: I've just come from a briefing with a nine-year-old child. Linton Barwick: You're talking about AJ. AJ is one of our top guys. He's a Stanton College Prep, Harvard. One of the brightest and best. Malcolm Tucker: Well, his briefing notes were written in alphabetti spaghetti. When I left, I nearly tripped up over his fucking umbilical cord. Linton Barwick: I'm sorry it troubles you that our people achieve excellence at such an early age. But could we just move on to what's important here? Now, I understand that your Prime Minister has asked you to supply us with some, say, fresh British intelligence, is that true? Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, apparently, your fucking master race of highly-gifted toddlers can't quite get the job done... Linton Barwick: All right. Malcolm Tucker: ...between breast feeds and playing with their Power Rangers. So, an actual grown-up has been asked to fucking bail you out. ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: [calling Tucker] OK. Your phone is off, but there's been a catastrofuck here. Someone's leaked Liza Weld's PWIP PIP paper to the BBC. I reckon it's going to be on the six o'clock news, one o'clock your time. That is going to fucking fist your UN vote to death. Right. Missing you loads. PWIP PIP toodle-oo. ________________________________________ A.J. Brown: So, you made it in OK, right? Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, hunky-dory, thanks. Can I get a coffee? A.J. Brown: Sure, sure. If we just get started, my assistant should be bringing in coffee shortly. Malcolm Tucker: Your assistant? A.J. Brown: Yeah. So, item. We need to have a conversation about the mood of the British Parliament, the bumps in the road ahead and what not. Malcolm Tucker: I'm sorry, I don't... This situation here is... Is this it? No offence, son, but you look like you should still be at school with your head down a fucking toilet. A.J. Brown: Your first point there, the offence? I'm afraid I'm going to have to take it. Your second point, I'm 22, but item, it's my birthday in nine days, so... if it will make you feel more comfortable, we could wait. Malcolm Tucker: Don't get sarcastic with me, son. We burned this tight-arsed city to the ground in 1814. And I'm all for doing it again, starting with you, you frat fuck. You get sarcastic with me again and I will stuff so much cotton wool down your fucking throat it'll come out your arse like the tail on a Playboy bunny. I was led to believe I was attending the war committee. A.J. Brown: Yes, Assistant Secretary of State Linton Barwick asked me to brief you on the work of the Future Planning Committee. Malcolm Tucker: I'm away. [AJ's assistant walks in with the coffee] Malcolm Tucker: And here we are. The fucking Vice President has also graced us with his presence. Give him a bottle of milk. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: It'll be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. Toby Wright: No, it's going to be difficult-difficult-lemon-difficult. ________________________________________ Sir Jonathan Tutt: So, you must be Simon. I'm the British Ambassador to the UN, Sir Jonathan Tutt. Well, this is it, ladies and gentlemen. This is the United Nations. We, sir, are in here. So, if there's anything you need, just give me a whistle. You know how to do that, don't you Malcolm? What do you do? Hm? That's right. You put your lips together and you blow. I'm going to head up to this delegates' reception. I hope there's some nibbles, because I'm ravenous. Malcolm Tucker: Nibbles. Who still says "nibbles"? Toby Wright: Fuck the nibbles. What was with the homoerotic tension? ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Right. Was it you? Simon Foster: No, it wasn't. No. What? Malcolm Tucker: You do know what I'm talking about, don't you? Simon Foster: No. And... And... whatever it was, I almost certainly didn't do it. Malcolm Tucker: Was it you, the baby from Eraserhead? Toby Wright: No, no. Malcolm Tucker: Then it must have been you, the woman from The Crying Game. Judy: It wasn't me. ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: Well, if it isn't Humpty Numpty. Simon Foster: What is this? Surround bollocking? Jamie MacDonald: Hey, with due respect, I hadn't finished. If it isn't Humpty Numpty sitting on top of a collapsing wall like some clueless egg cunt. Now, I'm finished. Simon Foster: Hi, Jamie, this is Toby. Toby Wright: Oh, um... Toby Rice, I'm Simon's aide. Jamie MacDonald: Hi, Toby, Toby. Very pleased to meet you. Please sit down. Now, right, that's enough of all the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries. Toby Wright: What's Oxbridge about saying hello? Jamie MacDonald: Shut it, Love Actually! Do you want me to hole punch your face? Malcolm Tucker: Right, I'm off to deal with the fate of the planet. Be gentle with them. Jamie MacDonald: Oh, you know me, Malc. Kid gloves... but made from real kids. Right, Butch and Gaydance, this wall story is playing badly. There's a cartoon of you in here as a walrus. Simon Foster: A walrus? I'm not fat, I don't even have a moustache. Fuck, they've given me tusks. Jamie MacDonald: Wal-rus. You get it? Wal-rus, wal-rus. Toby Wright: We called some builders. They didn't turn up when they said they would. Jamie MacDonald: What did you expect? They're builders! Have you ever seen a film where the hero is a builder? No, no, because they never fucking turn up in the nick of time. Bat-builder? Spider-builder? Huh? That's why you never see a superhero with a hod! ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: You, hey, put the snifter out there that if the BBC ambushes a minister with another surprise question about the war, I'll drop a bomb on them. Judy: I can't do that, can I? That's political. Malcolm Tucker: Does that not fit within your purview, Marie Antoinette? Why don't you just scuttle off back to fucking Cranford and play around with your tea and your cakes and your fucking horse cocks. Let them eat cock! [to Toby] Malcolm Tucker: Hey, you! Ron Weasley, you do it. ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: You're beautiful. Karen Clarke: Oh, thank you. I'm sure you say that to all the girls. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yes, I do... And some of the soldiers, too. Karen Clarke: That's why you shouldn't run for office, bimbo eruptions. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Come on, don't believe that shit. I'm not gonna run for office. I'm just trying to do something different. Karen Clarke: It's one of the reasons I like you. I know your passion about education and housing and... Lt. Gen. George Miller: Lingerie. Karen Clarke: There you go. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Bestiality. Karen Clarke: I'd forgotten about that. Are you still allergic to the dog? Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yes, yes, I wake up and my eyes are closed and my head is swollen and I look like a giant ball sac. Karen Clarke: Oh, my God. You know, they do have modern medication for that sort of thing. Beautiful ball sac, though. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Thank you very much. ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: [to Karen, about Linton Barwick ] He's got his little cannons and he's got his little guns, and... This is the problem with civilians wanting to go to war. Once you've been there, once you've seen it, you never want to go again unless you absolutely fucking have to. It's like France. ________________________________________ Linton Barwick: My golly, I can't see why anyone would choose to work in a glass office, huh? Glass offices, in my opinion, are for perverts. Bob Adriano: I could request the glass be frosted. Linton Barwick: Frosting is on cakes, huh? Now, what else happened in London? Bob Adriano: Ah, generally positive, two glitches... Linton Barwick: Really, what? Bob Adriano: Karen flagged a report by one of her staffers. She's obviously trying to use it as some kind of roadblock. It's called PWIP PIP. Linton Barwick: PWIP what? Bob Adriano: PWIP PIP. Linton Barwick: What is it, a report on bird calls? What does it even stand for? Bob Adriano: I can't recall. It's factish. Intel for and against intervention. Linton Barwick: We have all the facts on this we need. We don't need any more facts. In the land of truth, my friend, the man with one fact is the king. You said there was something else, what is that? Bob Adriano: In the meeting with the Foreign Office, the committee was accidentally and briefly alluded to. Linton Barwick: Which committee? Bob Adriano: The... [quietly] Bob Adriano: The war committee, sir. Linton Barwick: All right, Karen is not to know about this, huh? She is an excitable, yapping she-dog. Get a hold of those minutes. I have to correct the record. Bob Adriano: We can do that? Linton Barwick: Yes, we can. Those minutes are an aide-memoire for us. They should not be a reductive record of what happened to have been said, but they should be more a full record of what was intended to have been said. I think that's the more accurate version, don't you? ________________________________________ Linton Barwick: So, we're getting a little close to the wire, Mr Tucker. Where is that intel, huh? What sort of intel have you rustled up? Malcolm Tucker: Ah, the smoking intel? Linton Barwick: Yeah. Malcolm Tucker: Well, honestly, I haven't got it. Linton Barwick: You haven't got it? All right. OK. Well, then, can you delay the vote? lt'd give you the time to get it. Malcolm Tucker: I've just had it brought forward. Linton Barwick: I am telling you, delay the vote and make yourself some time to get the intel, because I need it, my friend. Malcolm Tucker: Hey. OK. Just a quick reality check here, J Edgar Fucking Hoover, I don't work for you. You don't fucking tell me what to do. Linton Barwick: OK. Firstly, don't raise your voice. This is a sacred place. Now, you may not believe that and I may not believe that, but, by God, it's a useful hypocrisy. And, secondarily, I believe your Prime Minister has instructed you to work for me. Oh, the great Malcolm Tucker. One of your guys leaks a paper - you can't do anything. Huh? We tell you to get some intel - you can't do anything. I need you to move the vote back - you can't do anything. I am afraid you are nothing but a useless piece of S star-star T. ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: 12:30. Bob Adriano: Hold on. General? Yeah... Secretary Linton Barwick asked me to let you know that his last meeting looks like it's overrunning, he sends his apologies. Lt. Gen. George Miller: When will he be here? Bob Adriano: I don't have that information at this moment. Lt. Gen. George Miller: What the fuck? Huh? Did he stand me up? Bob Adriano: No, no, sir. You're more than welcome to wait. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Do you know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to take a nice big shit on his desk, just to let him know that I was here. Is that OK with you? Bob Adriano: I don't think he'd like that too much, sir. ________________________________________ Chad: Liza? Everyone is so hot for this paper, I just wanted to let you know. I'm about to run off another ten copies. Liza Weld: Just stop. Chad: It's like a Harry Potter book, if Harry Potter made people really, really angry. You're in hot water, you're lobsterising. Do you smell lobster? Because I smell lobster. Strong... bisque wafting this way. Liza Weld: How far would you go with Linton, you freaky little stalker? Downtown? Or all the way up Brokeback Mountain? Chad: Smells like bisque. Liza Weld: Smells like bisque? Chad: Smells like bisque. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: Come on, Malcolm, he asked me for a personal opinion. Malcolm Tucker: Why didn't you say? He asked you. Fuck, of course, that explains it. If he'd asked you to fucking black up, or to give him your PIN number or to shit yourself, would you have done that? Simon Foster: I would have blacked up, yes. It was radio, nobody would've known. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: Hey, listen, the war committee. What you have to do is you've got to look for the ten dullest-named committees happening out of the executive branch. Because Linton is not going to call it "The Big Horrible War Committee". He's gonna hide it behind a name like "Diverse Strategy", something so dull you're just gonna want to self-harm. ________________________________________ Toby Wright: Suzy, this is probably going to sound a bit odd under the circumstances, but... Suzy: A quickie? Toby Wright: No. Thank you, but no. It's about Liza. Liza wrote a paper, it's called PWIP PIP. Michael Rodgers: PWIP what? Toby Wright: PWIP PIP. Michael Rodgers: Who wrote that? Charles Dickens? Toby Wright: Post War Planning Implications... Suzy: Yeah, all right. Toby Wright: Right. I think, it could, if it was leaked, stop this kind of rush towards a war, you know, too quickly, that sort of thing. Just if it was leaked. Suzy: You are such a coward. Take your backlog of Mojo and your shit clothes and your eighth of dope and your flute and piss off. ________________________________________ A.J. Brown: [on the phone] I just got off the phone with Linton, who proceeded to bitch me out for allowing "I Heart Huckabees" on the troops' DVD roster. Yeah. You know that phrase, "I'm too old for this shit"? Well, I'm too young for this shit. You know? ________________________________________ Linton Barwick: Well, I don't want to be accused of micro-managing, but I cannot understand why "I Heart Huckabees" is on a list of DVDs considered suitable for armed-forces entertainment. That self-indulgent crap is not suitable for combat troops. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: All right now, my lovely friends, the bottom line is... Michael Rodgers: Oh, God, I hate that phrase. "Bottom line." I mean, we're not in retailing. Malcolm Tucker: Sorry. Michael's quite right. I won't use that again. The bottom line is the President is going to the UN. This will be the vote to commence military intervention. And the Prime Minister has decided that we should join him. Rob, Innis, Little Bo Cock Jockey and the Leakey Fucking Mingebox, go back to your desks and prepare to start briefing now. Simon Foster: Michael, do you mind if we use your office? Michael Rodgers: What? Simon Foster: For a couple of minutes? Malcolm Tucker: Yeah. Michael, sorry. Bottom line is, can you come out again? ________________________________________ Michael Rodgers: No, no, no, you needn't worry about the Canadians, they're just happy to be there. [pause] Michael Rodgers: Yes, well, they always look surprised when they're invited. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Why didn't we nail the line? Judy: Simon, I did try to warn you... Simon Foster: Yes, you tried to warn me, but you didn't actually stop me, did you... Judy: Well I can't tackle you to the ground... Simon Foster: ...by shouting 'train' at somebody as they get hit by a train. You should go 'train! there's a fucking train!' ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Simon, I don't like finding out about people employed by this government via the news unless they've just died. Be here, now, ________________________________________ Lt. Gen. George Miller: My loyalty is to the kids. I am a soldier. Karen Clarke: You're not a soldier. Lt. Gen. George Miller: I've been a soldier my whole life! What do you mean I'm not a soldier? I'm a soldier! Look at the uniform - what, do you think I'm one of the fucking Village People? Karen Clarke: When did you shoot a guy last? Lt. Gen. George Miller: What, just because I haven't shot someone in fifteen years. I'm not a soldier? You know, the Army doesn't make you drag some bullet-ridden bloody corpse into the Pentagon every five years to renew your soldier's license! ________________________________________ Toby Wright: What if our meeting has finished? What if Karen comes back and then we're still sitting here? It's going to be embarrassing, isn't it? We're going to look like groupies. Simon Foster: What if the meeting hasn't finished? And she comes back and we've disappeared? Toby Wright: Maybe I could call Judy? She could... Simon Foster: Please can we try and just do one thing without Judy? I think we've drawn long enough from that... teat. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: Has a decision already been made in principle to advocate invasion? Linton Barwick: I would refer you to the recent comments of our colleague from the UK, mister Simon Foster, in that regard. Karen Clarke: Yes, I think that mister Foster would have something to say to that. Simon Foster: I'm certainly hearing both sides. In England we have a saying for a situation such as this, which is that it's difficult difficult lemon difficult. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Right, OK. Is it up, have you got it up? Jamie MacDonald: Yeah, it's all fine. Malcolm Tucker: Ok, cut the top paragraph and paste it into page five. Jamie MacDonald: Right, yeah, we've done it. Malcolm Tucker: Page six, get rid of the footnotes. Jamie MacDonald: Done. Malcolm Tucker: Go to, uh, page nine. Jamie MacDonald: Go to page nine. Malcolm Tucker: Highlight from that page right thru the end of the document. Jamie MacDonald: Go on... do it. Michael Rodgers: The caveats. Malcolm Tucker: Right, OK, delete. Jamie MacDonald: Right, Ok, we're doin' it. Delete it. Michael Rodgers: You, you can't delete the arguments against the war. Jamie MacDonald: Oh, there's a little shake of the head here, Malc. I think he's crashed. Malcolm Tucker: Just give him a thump. That usually works. Jamie MacDonald: Let me just try a wee bit of manual override. Let's see if it is possible to delete the arguments against the war. Hey, you could delete it after all. It's done. Malcolm Tucker: Great, right, now attach that to an e-mail. Jamie MacDonald: Yes, got it, got it. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: In the words of the late, great Nat King fucking Cole, unforeseeable, that's what you are. ________________________________________ Toby Wright: Liza Weld. She did the Kennedy Scholarship at my college. I had a little thing for her at the time. Judy: I can imagine, yeah. Toby Wright: Don't think she remembered me, to be honest. Judy: That is one of the side-effects of Rohypnol. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: Linton has set up a secret war committee. I just know it. I mean, Linton is an absolute lunatic, Liza. He is dangerous. The voices in his head are now sing barbershop together. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: Christ on a bendy-bus. Don't be such a fucking faff arse. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: When you go to America, talk to Karen Clark at the State Department, yeah? Simon Foster: Right, OK. I'll give it a whirl. Malcolm Tucker: Keep away from Linton Barwick. He's pushing the war for Caulderwood's lot. I'll deal with him. He uses a live hand grenade as a fucking paper weight. That's a true story. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: I feel like we should have hookers, do you know what I mean? I mean in here... now. Limo Driver: Do you want girls? Simon Foster: No, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not. No, sorry. No hookers, it was just a joke. I hate hookers. Not in an aggressive way, but, no, thank you. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: Yes, Assistant Secretary, on point six, it feels like there's already been an assumption that we're invading and don't you think that we should discuss the practical implications? I mean, this is, after all, the War Committee. Linton Barwick: This is the Future Planning Committee. Karen Clarke: Well, unofficially, it is called the War Committee. Linton Barwick: Well, Karen, unofficially, we can call anything whatever we want. I mean, unofficially, this is a shoe, but it's not, Karen, it is a glass of water. And this is the Future Planning Committee. Lt. Gen. George Miller: Well, unofficially, this appears to be bullshit. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: What's going on there, Simon? Simon Foster: It's... It's departmental business. It's about a wall. Karen Clarke: Oh, Gaza? Simon Foster: Uh-huh. Karen Clarke: I'm wondering where you were in committee, Simon. I called for back-up and you sat there like a dumb sack of shit. Only maybe worse, because, actually, on a molecular level, shit is probably fizzling with energy. Simon Foster: I have to say, Karen, I do have a clear strategy on this, which is I'm playing the long game. Karen Clarke: They've bounced us into a short game, and you just sat there like a... What do you call it in England? A wanker. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: I was going to eat lunch in here. Can you digest? Do you want some food? Lt. Gen. George Miller: Oh, yes, I can digest, yes. Karen Clarke: Chinese OK? Lt. Gen. George Miller: Why don't you order me some little mammals? A little bunny and a little puppy, and a little cat, so I can twist their fucking neck off and drink their blood. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: So, this is all going to spin along from here. We're going to have a vote and go to war. We'll fight people, kill them. Our children will get killed. This is exactly the sort of thing that I didn't want to do when I went into politics. This is the opposite of what I wanted to be doing. Malcolm Tucker: That's why you have to stay in Government, to influence things. In here, you can influence things, you can delay things. Out there, you're just another fucking mouthy, fucking shouty mad fucker who people don't want to make eye contact with. Remember Mary? Remember what happened? She took a stand on health. Everybody decided that she was mental. Simon Foster: Because The Sun showed a picture of her with wide eyes and her head on a cow. Malcolm Tucker: Well I happened to find that a particularly powerful image. Look, the Prime Minister of this country, he's not a fucking Viking, is he? He doesn't drink blood. He doesn't go around biting tramps. Simon Foster: I know the Prime Minister isn't a Viking, Malcolm. Malcolm Tucker: Unlike me, he abhors physical violence. Simon Foster: Where is the intelligence, the hard evidence? Malcolm Tucker: We have got the fucking intelligence. Simon Foster: I haven't seen it. Malcolm Tucker: The intelligence we've got is so deep, so fucking hard, it'll fucking puncture your kidneys. Simon Foster: Where's it coming from? Malcolm Tucker: There is an informant. Ice Man. Simon Foster: Ice Man? Malcolm Tucker: I don't name them. Ice Man. Yeah. And the fact is, the stuff that he's given us is... I've seen it. It would make your blood run cold and clot and turn your insides into fucking black puddings. But certain box lickers are sitting on it, but you're going to see it, because the PM regards you as a key player in this now. ________________________________________ Simon Foster: In the motorcade, can we get a car without Judy, please? Toby Wright: You want hookers? You like hooky fucky, sir? ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: See that fax? Michael Rodgers: Yes. Jamie MacDonald: That is your career. And I think it might be fucked, but let's just check. Yeah, yeah, it's pretty fucked. Now, I hope you can play the spoons, because you're too old to go back to being a gentleman's fluffer. ________________________________________ Malcolm Tucker: [on the phone] Hi. BBC News Desk, please. Malcolm Tucker. Hi, Ben. Listen, I hear that you might be preparing a story that we might not like. Yeah, please. I just wanted to say, please, this garden-wall story, don't run with that. Simon Foster's constituency office wall. That's what you've got, haven't you? Oh, shit. I haven't let the cat out of the bag, have I? Please, don't run with that. My reputation will be in tatters. [hangs up] Malcolm Tucker: And he is gone! ________________________________________ Jamie MacDonald: Ah, right, Frank and Nancy Sinatra. I've got good news for you. You're NOT fired. That's great news, isn't it? Michael Rodgers: Well, it sounds ominous. Jamie MacDonald: We want to get Liza Weld's PWIP PIP out there properly, in the public domain. We just need to refine it a bit. Michael Rodgers: What do you want to refine? Jamie MacDonald: Just mess it up. Move the paragraphs. Change the name of the main informant. Michael Rodgers: Well, that's a complete fabrication. Jamie MacDonald: Changing his name doesn't matter. Do you think he's really called Ice Man? Huh? "To Mr and Mrs Man, a son... Ice." So, change it to another name. What's the name of the fuck with the fiddle? Michael Rodgers: This happens to be Debussy. Suzy: Debussy. Jamie MacDonald: Well, we'll change it to Debussy, then. Michael Rodgers: No, we will not! Jamie MacDonald: Now, your prints are gonna be all over this, Michael, but that's the only way you can save your job, you leaky fuck. Michael Rodgers: Don't make me do this. Suzy: It wasn't him. Michael Rodgers: Somebody must have come in there and used the fax machine. It could have been anyone. Jamie MacDonald: Fax machine? Ah, no! Don't worry about that. No, I made that up. No, the document was leaked by e-mail. It's just, the fax machine was there, and it's easier to kick. Come on, Thick White Duke! Come with me. ________________________________________ Karen Clarke: I am gonna go into Linton's office and I'm gonna pull the little pin on that fucking grenade. Liza Weld: Don't do that. Karen Clarke: I'm fucking joking. I'm not gonna do that.
电影应该属于Yes, Minister类型的政治讽刺。但是，Yes Minister里面的人物跟这个比起来简直就成了小绵羊，就是阳春白雪啊。这个电影得到这么多的好评，是不是现在的导演不会像以前那样很微妙地反映政治斗争残酷性了？转念一想，In the Loop就是基于真人真事啊，或许导演的水平没有什么差别，而是我们生活的时代就是如此了。
Simon Foster: Judy and I thought I could row back on Question Time, tonight
Malcolm Tucker: You're not going on Question Time tonight, you've been disinvited
Simon Foster: We've been prepping Question Time!
Judy: Why wasn't I told about this?
Malcolm Tucker: Why the fuck would I tell you about it? I've just told you to fuck off twice yet you're still here?
Judy: You should tell me about it as it's a scheduled media appearance by a member of this department and therefore it falls well within my purview!
Malcolm Tucker: Within your 'purview'? Where do you think you are, some fucking regency costume drama? This is a government department, not some fucking Jane fucking Austen novel! Allow me to pop a jaunty little bonnet on your purview and ram it up your shitter with a lubricated horse cock!
Judy: Your swearing does not impress me. My husband works for Tower Hamlets and believe me those kids make you sound like... Angela Lansbury!
Malcolm Tucker: [to Simon] She's married? Poor bastard.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Fuckety-bye-bye then!
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: "Climbing the mountain of conflict"? You sounded like a Nazi Julie Andrews!
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Y'know, I've come across a lot of psychos, but none as fucking boring as you. You are a real boring fuck. Sorry, sorry, I know you disapprove of swearing so I'll sort that out. You are a boring F, star, star, CUNT!
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Twelve thousand troops. But that's not enough. That's the amount that are going to die. And at the end of a war you need some soldiers left, really, or else it looks like you've lost.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: This is the minister of international development here, he should be talking about... food parcels... not... fucking, arse-spraying mayhem!
________________________________________
Paul Michaelson: Am I calm? I'm fucking ZEN!
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: You sure you're working as hard as I am, 'cause I'm sweating spinal fluid here!
________________________________________
Judy: You know they're all kids in Washington? It's like Bugsy Malone, but with real guns.
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: You think that's his real name? Iceman? To Mr. and Mrs. Man, a son... Ice?
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: General Flintstone... Was it you? Did you leak PWIP-PIP?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: No, I didn't leak it. I'm not like some little gay mercenary running around doing other people's dirty work.
Malcolm Tucker: Hey, I'm doing my own dirty work. I'm doing my job.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: I think you're doing Linton's dirty work. You're his little English bitch and you don't even know it. Bet if I came to your hotel room tonight, I'd find you down on all fours, him hanging out the back of you.
Malcolm Tucker: Oh, that's nice. That's really tough talk coming from the Armchair General. Put your feet up on a pouffe and go back to sleep, why don't you.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Look, Tucker, you might be some scary little poodlefucker over in England, but out here you're nothing. You know what you look like? A squeezed dick. You got a big blue vein running up your head all the way to the temple. See, that's where I'd put the bullet. Only I'd have to stand back 'cause you look like a squirter.
Malcolm Tucker: Have you ever even actually killed anybody? Really?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah.
Malcolm Tucker: Falling asleep on someone, that doesn't count!
Lt. Gen. George Miller: That's funny. What about you, pussy drip? Ever kill anyone?
Malcolm Tucker: Maiming's what I prefer. Psychologically.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah? Why don't you try to maim me? I'll hit you so hard in the face you'll be shitting teeth.
Malcolm Tucker: Go right ahead. I can see the headlines now. "Peace-Loving General Starts Brawl in U.N., Swiss Intervene". I don't know, I'm no expert on spin but that could hurt your career.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yeah?
Malcolm Tucker: Right. Do excuse me, I've got to get back to work.
[pause]
Malcolm Tucker: Don't ever call me fucking English again.
________________________________________
Toby Wright: [looking at George Washington monument] See that? Pull that out, America deflates.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, it's very easy to mock. The closest you'll ever get to one of those is buying a fucking Toblerone. I'll wait in the car.
Simon Foster: So what are we going back to, apart from a nice cup of tea and some knife crime?
Toby Wright: Constituency surgery in Northamptonshire.
Simon Foster: Oh, great. Meeting my constituents. It's like being Simon Cowell, only without the ability to say, "Fuck off, you're mental".
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: So you're not resigning?
Karen Clarke: Are you still playing the hawk?
Simon Foster: Well, in... in a way I'm playing a much cleverer game than that... I'm a fake hawk.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] A what?
Simon Foster: ...Fake hawk?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] You're an idiot. Or are you a... fake idiot?
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Do I look like I've ever set foot in a stationery cupboard? I do all my shagging in five-star hotels!
________________________________________
Linton Barwick: I can't stand to see a woman bleed from the mouth. It reminds me of that Country & Western music which I cannot abide.
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: All right, that's enough with the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries.
Toby Wright: Wh... What's Oxbridge about saying hello?
Jamie MacDonald: SHUT IT, Love Actually! You want me to hole-punch your face?
________________________________________
Chad: You're like the woman from The Omen. You've given birth to a demon, and now it's gonna kill you.
Liza Weld: You probably identify with the kid from The Omen, right?
Chad: Ooh!
Liza Weld: See, you're an only child, aren't you?
Chad: I gotta say, I don't understand how my parents' limited reproductive ability reflects badly on me. I'm the sperm that made it!
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: Turn that fucking racket off! It's just VOWELS! Subsidised... foreign... vowels!
________________________________________
Linton Barwick: It's early days, my friends. All roads lead to Munich.
[leaves]
Malcolm Tucker: 'All roads lead to Munich... ' What the fuck does that mean?
Simon Foster: Well, I think it means, uh... actually, no, no, I don't know what it means.
________________________________________
Sir Jonathan Tutt: Let me tell you the process here, Malcolm, and why that's not possible...
Malcolm Tucker: Just fucking do it! Otherwise you'll find yourself in some medieval war zone in the Caucasus with your arse in the air, trying to persuade a group of men in balaclavas that sustained sexual violence is not the fucking way forward!
________________________________________
Simon Foster: That's not supposed to be out there...
Malcolm Tucker: Well, it is out there, it's out there now, lurking like a big hairy rapist at a coach station. You know, if I could, I'd punch you into paralysis!
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: I'm a voracious reader. I'm the Gore Vidal of the Pentagon.
Karen Clarke: Gore's gay.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: No, he's not!
Karen Clarke: I beg to differ, but...
Lt. Gen. George Miller: He's gay? 'Cause I've been saying that Gore Vidal line.
Karen Clarke: He is gay.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: [pause] Guess I'd better stop saying that then.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: You concentrate on nothing! You stay detached, or else that's what I'll do to your retinas.
Simon Foster: Can I go to bed now, please?
Malcolm Tucker: Oh no. We're gonna stay here, and you are gonna rehearse saying nothing.
Simon Foster: ...Am I being tortured?
________________________________________
[first lines]
Malcolm Tucker: Good morning, my little chicks and cocks.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: Tobes, I don't want to have to read you the riot act but I am going to have to read you some extracts from the riot act, like section one, paragraph one: don't leave your boss twisting in the wind and then burst in late, smelling like a pissed seaside donkey.
Toby Wright: Look, alright, I was late for the meeting, Simon, I am sorry, but it's not like I threw up in there, is it?
Simon Foster: No, you're right, I'm being unfair. I should be thanking you for not throwing up. Well done, you're a star. You didn't wet yourself, did you? You're in the right city. You didn't say anything overtly racist. You didn't pull your cock out and start plucking it and shouting "Willy Banjo". No, I'm being really unfair. You'd got so much right, without actually being there in the beginning of one of the most important moments of my career. Thanks, you're a legend.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Fucking hung up, haven't you? You fucking hoity-toity fucking...
Tourist: Hey, buddy? Enough with the curse words, all right?
Malcolm Tucker: Kiss my sweaty balls, you fat fuck.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Linton! Linton!
Linton Barwick: Mr Tucker, isn't it? Nice to see you again.
Malcolm Tucker: Are you fucking me about?
Linton Barwick: Is there a problem, Mr Tucker?
Malcolm Tucker: I've just come from a briefing with a nine-year-old child.
Linton Barwick: You're talking about AJ. AJ is one of our top guys. He's a Stanton College Prep, Harvard. One of the brightest and best.
Malcolm Tucker: Well, his briefing notes were written in alphabetti spaghetti. When I left, I nearly tripped up over his fucking umbilical cord.
Linton Barwick: I'm sorry it troubles you that our people achieve excellence at such an early age. But could we just move on to what's important here? Now, I understand that your Prime Minister has asked you to supply us with some, say, fresh British intelligence, is that true?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, apparently, your fucking master race of highly-gifted toddlers can't quite get the job done...
Linton Barwick: All right.
Malcolm Tucker: ...between breast feeds and playing with their Power Rangers. So, an actual grown-up has been asked to fucking bail you out.
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: [calling Tucker] OK. Your phone is off, but there's been a catastrofuck here. Someone's leaked Liza Weld's PWIP PIP paper to the BBC. I reckon it's going to be on the six o'clock news, one o'clock your time. That is going to fucking fist your UN vote to death. Right. Missing you loads. PWIP PIP toodle-oo.
________________________________________
A.J. Brown: So, you made it in OK, right?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, hunky-dory, thanks. Can I get a coffee?
A.J. Brown: Sure, sure. If we just get started, my assistant should be bringing in coffee shortly.
Malcolm Tucker: Your assistant?
A.J. Brown: Yeah. So, item. We need to have a conversation about the mood of the British Parliament, the bumps in the road ahead and what not.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm sorry, I don't... This situation here is... Is this it? No offence, son, but you look like you should still be at school with your head down a fucking toilet.
A.J. Brown: Your first point there, the offence? I'm afraid I'm going to have to take it. Your second point, I'm 22, but item, it's my birthday in nine days, so... if it will make you feel more comfortable, we could wait.
Malcolm Tucker: Don't get sarcastic with me, son. We burned this tight-arsed city to the ground in 1814. And I'm all for doing it again, starting with you, you frat fuck. You get sarcastic with me again and I will stuff so much cotton wool down your fucking throat it'll come out your arse like the tail on a Playboy bunny. I was led to believe I was attending the war committee.
A.J. Brown: Yes, Assistant Secretary of State Linton Barwick asked me to brief you on the work of the Future Planning Committee.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm away.
[AJ's assistant walks in with the coffee]
Malcolm Tucker: And here we are. The fucking Vice President has also graced us with his presence. Give him a bottle of milk.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: It'll be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.
Toby Wright: No, it's going to be difficult-difficult-lemon-difficult.
________________________________________
Sir Jonathan Tutt: So, you must be Simon. I'm the British Ambassador to the UN, Sir Jonathan Tutt. Well, this is it, ladies and gentlemen. This is the United Nations. We, sir, are in here. So, if there's anything you need, just give me a whistle. You know how to do that, don't you Malcolm? What do you do? Hm? That's right. You put your lips together and you blow. I'm going to head up to this delegates' reception. I hope there's some nibbles, because I'm ravenous.
Malcolm Tucker: Nibbles. Who still says "nibbles"?
Toby Wright: Fuck the nibbles. What was with the homoerotic tension?
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Right. Was it you?
Simon Foster: No, it wasn't. No. What?
Malcolm Tucker: You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?
Simon Foster: No. And... And... whatever it was, I almost certainly didn't do it.
Malcolm Tucker: Was it you, the baby from Eraserhead?
Toby Wright: No, no.
Malcolm Tucker: Then it must have been you, the woman from The Crying Game.
Judy: It wasn't me.
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: Well, if it isn't Humpty Numpty.
Simon Foster: What is this? Surround bollocking?
Jamie MacDonald: Hey, with due respect, I hadn't finished. If it isn't Humpty Numpty sitting on top of a collapsing wall like some clueless egg cunt. Now, I'm finished.
Simon Foster: Hi, Jamie, this is Toby.
Toby Wright: Oh, um... Toby Rice, I'm Simon's aide.
Jamie MacDonald: Hi, Toby, Toby. Very pleased to meet you. Please sit down. Now, right, that's enough of all the fucking Oxbridge pleasantries.
Toby Wright: What's Oxbridge about saying hello?
Jamie MacDonald: Shut it, Love Actually! Do you want me to hole punch your face?
Malcolm Tucker: Right, I'm off to deal with the fate of the planet. Be gentle with them.
Jamie MacDonald: Oh, you know me, Malc. Kid gloves... but made from real kids. Right, Butch and Gaydance, this wall story is playing badly. There's a cartoon of you in here as a walrus.
Simon Foster: A walrus? I'm not fat, I don't even have a moustache. Fuck, they've given me tusks.
Jamie MacDonald: Wal-rus. You get it? Wal-rus, wal-rus.
Toby Wright: We called some builders. They didn't turn up when they said they would.
Jamie MacDonald: What did you expect? They're builders! Have you ever seen a film where the hero is a builder? No, no, because they never fucking turn up in the nick of time. Bat-builder? Spider-builder? Huh? That's why you never see a superhero with a hod!
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: You, hey, put the snifter out there that if the BBC ambushes a minister with another surprise question about the war, I'll drop a bomb on them.
Judy: I can't do that, can I? That's political.
Malcolm Tucker: Does that not fit within your purview, Marie Antoinette? Why don't you just scuttle off back to fucking Cranford and play around with your tea and your cakes and your fucking horse cocks. Let them eat cock!
[to Toby]
Malcolm Tucker: Hey, you! Ron Weasley, you do it.
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: You're beautiful.
Karen Clarke: Oh, thank you. I'm sure you say that to all the girls.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yes, I do... And some of the soldiers, too.
Karen Clarke: That's why you shouldn't run for office, bimbo eruptions.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Come on, don't believe that shit. I'm not gonna run for office. I'm just trying to do something different.
Karen Clarke: It's one of the reasons I like you. I know your passion about education and housing and...
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Lingerie.
Karen Clarke: There you go.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Bestiality.
Karen Clarke: I'd forgotten about that. Are you still allergic to the dog?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Yes, yes, I wake up and my eyes are closed and my head is swollen and I look like a giant ball sac.
Karen Clarke: Oh, my God. You know, they do have modern medication for that sort of thing. Beautiful ball sac, though.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Thank you very much.
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: [to Karen, about Linton Barwick ] He's got his little cannons and he's got his little guns, and... This is the problem with civilians wanting to go to war. Once you've been there, once you've seen it, you never want to go again unless you absolutely fucking have to. It's like France.
________________________________________
Linton Barwick: My golly, I can't see why anyone would choose to work in a glass office, huh? Glass offices, in my opinion, are for perverts.
Bob Adriano: I could request the glass be frosted.
Linton Barwick: Frosting is on cakes, huh? Now, what else happened in London?
Bob Adriano: Ah, generally positive, two glitches...
Linton Barwick: Really, what?
Bob Adriano: Karen flagged a report by one of her staffers. She's obviously trying to use it as some kind of roadblock. It's called PWIP PIP.
Linton Barwick: PWIP what?
Bob Adriano: PWIP PIP.
Linton Barwick: What is it, a report on bird calls? What does it even stand for?
Bob Adriano: I can't recall. It's factish. Intel for and against intervention.
Linton Barwick: We have all the facts on this we need. We don't need any more facts. In the land of truth, my friend, the man with one fact is the king. You said there was something else, what is that?
Bob Adriano: In the meeting with the Foreign Office, the committee was accidentally and briefly alluded to.
Linton Barwick: Which committee?
Bob Adriano: The...
[quietly]
Bob Adriano: The war committee, sir.
Linton Barwick: All right, Karen is not to know about this, huh? She is an excitable, yapping she-dog. Get a hold of those minutes. I have to correct the record.
Bob Adriano: We can do that?
Linton Barwick: Yes, we can. Those minutes are an aide-memoire for us. They should not be a reductive record of what happened to have been said, but they should be more a full record of what was intended to have been said. I think that's the more accurate version, don't you?
________________________________________
Linton Barwick: So, we're getting a little close to the wire, Mr Tucker. Where is that intel, huh? What sort of intel have you rustled up?
Malcolm Tucker: Ah, the smoking intel?
Linton Barwick: Yeah.
Malcolm Tucker: Well, honestly, I haven't got it.
Linton Barwick: You haven't got it? All right. OK. Well, then, can you delay the vote? lt'd give you the time to get it.
Malcolm Tucker: I've just had it brought forward.
Linton Barwick: I am telling you, delay the vote and make yourself some time to get the intel, because I need it, my friend.
Malcolm Tucker: Hey. OK. Just a quick reality check here, J Edgar Fucking Hoover, I don't work for you. You don't fucking tell me what to do.
Linton Barwick: OK. Firstly, don't raise your voice. This is a sacred place. Now, you may not believe that and I may not believe that, but, by God, it's a useful hypocrisy. And, secondarily, I believe your Prime Minister has instructed you to work for me. Oh, the great Malcolm Tucker. One of your guys leaks a paper - you can't do anything. Huh? We tell you to get some intel - you can't do anything. I need you to move the vote back - you can't do anything. I am afraid you are nothing but a useless piece of S star-star T.
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: 12:30.
Bob Adriano: Hold on. General? Yeah... Secretary Linton Barwick asked me to let you know that his last meeting looks like it's overrunning, he sends his apologies.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: When will he be here?
Bob Adriano: I don't have that information at this moment.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: What the fuck? Huh? Did he stand me up?
Bob Adriano: No, no, sir. You're more than welcome to wait.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Do you know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to take a nice big shit on his desk, just to let him know that I was here. Is that OK with you?
Bob Adriano: I don't think he'd like that too much, sir.
________________________________________
Chad: Liza? Everyone is so hot for this paper, I just wanted to let you know. I'm about to run off another ten copies.
Liza Weld: Just stop.
Chad: It's like a Harry Potter book, if Harry Potter made people really, really angry. You're in hot water, you're lobsterising. Do you smell lobster? Because I smell lobster. Strong... bisque wafting this way.
Liza Weld: How far would you go with Linton, you freaky little stalker? Downtown? Or all the way up Brokeback Mountain?
Chad: Smells like bisque.
Liza Weld: Smells like bisque?
Chad: Smells like bisque.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: Come on, Malcolm, he asked me for a personal opinion.
Malcolm Tucker: Why didn't you say? He asked you. Fuck, of course, that explains it. If he'd asked you to fucking black up, or to give him your PIN number or to shit yourself, would you have done that?
Simon Foster: I would have blacked up, yes. It was radio, nobody would've known.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: Hey, listen, the war committee. What you have to do is you've got to look for the ten dullest-named committees happening out of the executive branch. Because Linton is not going to call it "The Big Horrible War Committee". He's gonna hide it behind a name like "Diverse Strategy", something so dull you're just gonna want to self-harm.
________________________________________
Toby Wright: Suzy, this is probably going to sound a bit odd under the circumstances, but...
Suzy: A quickie?
Toby Wright: No. Thank you, but no. It's about Liza. Liza wrote a paper, it's called PWIP PIP.
Michael Rodgers: PWIP what?
Toby Wright: PWIP PIP.
Michael Rodgers: Who wrote that? Charles Dickens?
Toby Wright: Post War Planning Implications...
Suzy: Yeah, all right.
Toby Wright: Right. I think, it could, if it was leaked, stop this kind of rush towards a war, you know, too quickly, that sort of thing. Just if it was leaked.
Suzy: You are such a coward. Take your backlog of Mojo and your shit clothes and your eighth of dope and your flute and piss off.
________________________________________
A.J. Brown: [on the phone] I just got off the phone with Linton, who proceeded to bitch me out for allowing "I Heart Huckabees" on the troops' DVD roster. Yeah. You know that phrase, "I'm too old for this shit"? Well, I'm too young for this shit. You know?
________________________________________
Linton Barwick: Well, I don't want to be accused of micro-managing, but I cannot understand why "I Heart Huckabees" is on a list of DVDs considered suitable for armed-forces entertainment. That self-indulgent crap is not suitable for combat troops.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: All right now, my lovely friends, the bottom line is...
Michael Rodgers: Oh, God, I hate that phrase. "Bottom line." I mean, we're not in retailing.
Malcolm Tucker: Sorry. Michael's quite right. I won't use that again. The bottom line is the President is going to the UN. This will be the vote to commence military intervention. And the Prime Minister has decided that we should join him. Rob, Innis, Little Bo Cock Jockey and the Leakey Fucking Mingebox, go back to your desks and prepare to start briefing now.
Simon Foster: Michael, do you mind if we use your office?
Michael Rodgers: What?
Simon Foster: For a couple of minutes?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah. Michael, sorry. Bottom line is, can you come out again?
________________________________________
Michael Rodgers: No, no, no, you needn't worry about the Canadians, they're just happy to be there.
[pause]
Michael Rodgers: Yes, well, they always look surprised when they're invited.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Why didn't we nail the line?
Judy: Simon, I did try to warn you...
Simon Foster: Yes, you tried to warn me, but you didn't actually stop me, did you...
Judy: Well I can't tackle you to the ground...
Simon Foster: ...by shouting 'train' at somebody as they get hit by a train. You should go 'train! there's a fucking train!'
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Simon, I don't like finding out about people employed by this government via the news unless they've just died. Be here, now,
________________________________________
Lt. Gen. George Miller: My loyalty is to the kids. I am a soldier.
Karen Clarke: You're not a soldier.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: I've been a soldier my whole life! What do you mean I'm not a soldier? I'm a soldier! Look at the uniform - what, do you think I'm one of the fucking Village People?
Karen Clarke: When did you shoot a guy last?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: What, just because I haven't shot someone in fifteen years. I'm not a soldier? You know, the Army doesn't make you drag some bullet-ridden bloody corpse into the Pentagon every five years to renew your soldier's license!
________________________________________
Toby Wright: What if our meeting has finished? What if Karen comes back and then we're still sitting here? It's going to be embarrassing, isn't it? We're going to look like groupies.
Simon Foster: What if the meeting hasn't finished? And she comes back and we've disappeared?
Toby Wright: Maybe I could call Judy? She could...
Simon Foster: Please can we try and just do one thing without Judy? I think we've drawn long enough from that... teat.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: Has a decision already been made in principle to advocate invasion?
Linton Barwick: I would refer you to the recent comments of our colleague from the UK, mister Simon Foster, in that regard.
Karen Clarke: Yes, I think that mister Foster would have something to say to that.
Simon Foster: I'm certainly hearing both sides. In England we have a saying for a situation such as this, which is that it's difficult difficult lemon difficult.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Right, OK. Is it up, have you got it up?
Jamie MacDonald: Yeah, it's all fine.
Malcolm Tucker: Ok, cut the top paragraph and paste it into page five.
Jamie MacDonald: Right, yeah, we've done it.
Malcolm Tucker: Page six, get rid of the footnotes.
Jamie MacDonald: Done.
Malcolm Tucker: Go to, uh, page nine.
Jamie MacDonald: Go to page nine.
Malcolm Tucker: Highlight from that page right thru the end of the document.
Jamie MacDonald: Go on... do it.
Michael Rodgers: The caveats.
Malcolm Tucker: Right, OK, delete.
Jamie MacDonald: Right, Ok, we're doin' it. Delete it.
Michael Rodgers: You, you can't delete the arguments against the war.
Jamie MacDonald: Oh, there's a little shake of the head here, Malc. I think he's crashed.
Malcolm Tucker: Just give him a thump. That usually works.
Jamie MacDonald: Let me just try a wee bit of manual override. Let's see if it is possible to delete the arguments against the war. Hey, you could delete it after all. It's done.
Malcolm Tucker: Great, right, now attach that to an e-mail.
Jamie MacDonald: Yes, got it, got it.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: In the words of the late, great Nat King fucking Cole, unforeseeable, that's what you are.
________________________________________
Toby Wright: Liza Weld. She did the Kennedy Scholarship at my college. I had a little thing for her at the time.
Judy: I can imagine, yeah.
Toby Wright: Don't think she remembered me, to be honest.
Judy: That is one of the side-effects of Rohypnol.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: Linton has set up a secret war committee. I just know it. I mean, Linton is an absolute lunatic, Liza. He is dangerous. The voices in his head are now sing barbershop together.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: Christ on a bendy-bus. Don't be such a fucking faff arse.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: When you go to America, talk to Karen Clark at the State Department, yeah?
Simon Foster: Right, OK. I'll give it a whirl.
Malcolm Tucker: Keep away from Linton Barwick. He's pushing the war for Caulderwood's lot. I'll deal with him. He uses a live hand grenade as a fucking paper weight. That's a true story.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: I feel like we should have hookers, do you know what I mean? I mean in here... now.
Limo Driver: Do you want girls?
Simon Foster: No, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not. No, sorry. No hookers, it was just a joke. I hate hookers. Not in an aggressive way, but, no, thank you.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: Yes, Assistant Secretary, on point six, it feels like there's already been an assumption that we're invading and don't you think that we should discuss the practical implications? I mean, this is, after all, the War Committee.
Linton Barwick: This is the Future Planning Committee.
Karen Clarke: Well, unofficially, it is called the War Committee.
Linton Barwick: Well, Karen, unofficially, we can call anything whatever we want. I mean, unofficially, this is a shoe, but it's not, Karen, it is a glass of water. And this is the Future Planning Committee.
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Well, unofficially, this appears to be bullshit.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: What's going on there, Simon?
Simon Foster: It's... It's departmental business. It's about a wall.
Karen Clarke: Oh, Gaza?
Simon Foster: Uh-huh.
Karen Clarke: I'm wondering where you were in committee, Simon. I called for back-up and you sat there like a dumb sack of shit. Only maybe worse, because, actually, on a molecular level, shit is probably fizzling with energy.
Simon Foster: I have to say, Karen, I do have a clear strategy on this, which is I'm playing the long game.
Karen Clarke: They've bounced us into a short game, and you just sat there like a... What do you call it in England? A wanker.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: I was going to eat lunch in here. Can you digest? Do you want some food?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Oh, yes, I can digest, yes.
Karen Clarke: Chinese OK?
Lt. Gen. George Miller: Why don't you order me some little mammals? A little bunny and a little puppy, and a little cat, so I can twist their fucking neck off and drink their blood.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: So, this is all going to spin along from here. We're going to have a vote and go to war. We'll fight people, kill them. Our children will get killed. This is exactly the sort of thing that I didn't want to do when I went into politics. This is the opposite of what I wanted to be doing.
Malcolm Tucker: That's why you have to stay in Government, to influence things. In here, you can influence things, you can delay things. Out there, you're just another fucking mouthy, fucking shouty mad fucker who people don't want to make eye contact with. Remember Mary? Remember what happened? She took a stand on health. Everybody decided that she was mental.
Simon Foster: Because The Sun showed a picture of her with wide eyes and her head on a cow.
Malcolm Tucker: Well I happened to find that a particularly powerful image. Look, the Prime Minister of this country, he's not a fucking Viking, is he? He doesn't drink blood. He doesn't go around biting tramps.
Simon Foster: I know the Prime Minister isn't a Viking, Malcolm.
Malcolm Tucker: Unlike me, he abhors physical violence.
Simon Foster: Where is the intelligence, the hard evidence?
Malcolm Tucker: We have got the fucking intelligence.
Simon Foster: I haven't seen it.
Malcolm Tucker: The intelligence we've got is so deep, so fucking hard, it'll fucking puncture your kidneys.
Simon Foster: Where's it coming from?
Malcolm Tucker: There is an informant. Ice Man.
Simon Foster: Ice Man?
Malcolm Tucker: I don't name them. Ice Man. Yeah. And the fact is, the stuff that he's given us is... I've seen it. It would make your blood run cold and clot and turn your insides into fucking black puddings. But certain box lickers are sitting on it, but you're going to see it, because the PM regards you as a key player in this now.
________________________________________
Simon Foster: In the motorcade, can we get a car without Judy, please?
Toby Wright: You want hookers? You like hooky fucky, sir?
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: See that fax?
Michael Rodgers: Yes.
Jamie MacDonald: That is your career. And I think it might be fucked, but let's just check. Yeah, yeah, it's pretty fucked. Now, I hope you can play the spoons, because you're too old to go back to being a gentleman's fluffer.
________________________________________
Malcolm Tucker: [on the phone] Hi. BBC News Desk, please. Malcolm Tucker. Hi, Ben. Listen, I hear that you might be preparing a story that we might not like. Yeah, please. I just wanted to say, please, this garden-wall story, don't run with that. Simon Foster's constituency office wall. That's what you've got, haven't you? Oh, shit. I haven't let the cat out of the bag, have I? Please, don't run with that. My reputation will be in tatters.
[hangs up]
Malcolm Tucker: And he is gone!
________________________________________
Jamie MacDonald: Ah, right, Frank and Nancy Sinatra. I've got good news for you. You're NOT fired. That's great news, isn't it?
Michael Rodgers: Well, it sounds ominous.
Jamie MacDonald: We want to get Liza Weld's PWIP PIP out there properly, in the public domain. We just need to refine it a bit.
Michael Rodgers: What do you want to refine?
Jamie MacDonald: Just mess it up. Move the paragraphs. Change the name of the main informant.
Michael Rodgers: Well, that's a complete fabrication.
Jamie MacDonald: Changing his name doesn't matter. Do you think he's really called Ice Man? Huh? "To Mr and Mrs Man, a son... Ice." So, change it to another name. What's the name of the fuck with the fiddle?
Michael Rodgers: This happens to be Debussy.
Suzy: Debussy.
Jamie MacDonald: Well, we'll change it to Debussy, then.
Michael Rodgers: No, we will not!
Jamie MacDonald: Now, your prints are gonna be all over this, Michael, but that's the only way you can save your job, you leaky fuck.
Michael Rodgers: Don't make me do this.
Suzy: It wasn't him.
Michael Rodgers: Somebody must have come in there and used the fax machine. It could have been anyone.
Jamie MacDonald: Fax machine? Ah, no! Don't worry about that. No, I made that up. No, the document was leaked by e-mail. It's just, the fax machine was there, and it's easier to kick. Come on, Thick White Duke! Come with me.
________________________________________
Karen Clarke: I am gonna go into Linton's office and I'm gonna pull the little pin on that fucking grenade.
Liza Weld: Don't do that.
Karen Clarke: I'm fucking joking. I'm not gonna do that.
天才知道做个MALCOM把FUCKING当成会说的第一个词有多累 天才知道LINTON的卑鄙能不能让他睡个好觉 同不同意战争最后不是重点 当MALCOM对那22岁不到的美国什么天才大使满嘴喷脏话说着1814年我就火烧到这儿来了的时候我扑的一下就笑了出来 尽管这人脾气极烂毒舌要命说脏话说的路人活脱脱不能忍 可我还是最喜欢这个角儿
凡是沾上政治 统统没有好角色 连KAREN和将军两位好心反战的哥们也不过是心怀鬼胎 KAREN最后败北之时将军也不可能追随而去 哪儿能心甘情愿放弃手里的军权跟了反战理想而去呢 SIMON坏在没有立场 懦弱的能憋死 FUCKING有时候都说不利落 本来你就怂就别当着新闻媒体再乱七八糟说一大堆了 结果莫名其妙心里想的反战最后竟能因为那个CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN OF CONFLICT的叨逼叨让自己看上去成了战争簇拥者 SIMON的蠢行让这影片开始
---更多的蠢行带来结束 比如所有英美官员嘴都跟带了广播站似的 一个个流动广播 什么SECRET都跟站电台自己往外嚷嚷没大区别 LINTON的助手一点经验没有就被KAREN的助手把战争委员会的事儿套出去了 TOBY更不靠谱 除了JJ控制大脑之外 还把战争委员会的事情告诉媒体 不够添乱的 更爆笑的是明明就一夜情上了床 却跟女朋友说的冠冕堂皇恨不得保家卫国 说是性爱制止战争 难怪JUDY一边吃着曲奇一边笑的喘不过气
MALCOM句句几乎不离粗口和生殖器 有的比喻却颇有意思 想象力的造诣完全能在英国文坛混个名声 后来又拽出来个JAMIE 不仅粗口连篇还无端崇尚暴力 这两人仿佛英国粗口考试的考官一样 带着四六八级专业证书 LINTON和MALCOM的互相羞辱也可窥见二人功力 不过都是挨了骂打算换以颜色或是不疼不痒的主儿 露骨或艺术的骂辞都在同意战争的意见之后烟消云散 相比较MALCOM骂的更艺术 常常引经据典带着什么简奥斯丁或简爱之类
谎言像抛了锚一样的沉在这片子里 LINTON说谎说得最多 他晃点MALCOM晃点将军去打壁球 他修改会议记录让模棱两可的句子成了肯定句陈述句 其次严重的是MALCOM 生是把LIZA的文儿给改的不见原形
语言形同虚设像是并发症 跟着谎言就一起来了 将军不跟着KAREN一起辞职了 SIMON在是不是辞职的问题上辗转反侧
片子里还没有英雄 KAREN不过是反战的另一个政客 可能这个意图和她的利益更符合 她并未善待她的助手 反战的意见非说成是助手的文章 不能拨到自己头上 动辄大吼大叫失败了恼羞成怒
哪个人物不是活灵活现的呢 政治这个大碗里好像只煮了杂碎汤 你是块儿好肉都看不出来 喜欢听古典音乐的英国绅士老头无辜的帮忙改了文章 得了 唯一值得同情的好肉也出不了这碗了
听台词明明白白就听得见什么意思知道什么是真理 没有曲里拐弯的调调 可这么接近真相却还是让我们捧腹而笑 讽刺的不下流也并非无事生非
电影应该属于Yes, Minister类型的政治讽刺。但是，Yes Minister里面的人物跟这个比起来简直就成了小绵羊，就是阳春白雪啊。这个电影得到这么多的好评，是不是现在的导演不会像以前那样很微妙地反映政治斗争残酷性了？转念一想，In the Loop就是基于真人真事啊，或许导演的水平没有什么差别，而是我们生活的时代就是如此了。
这个电影结构有些散乱，看着忍不住地走神，走神了其实也丢掉不了什么，反正是肮脏到底了。看完了忍不住等一会儿眼，你我生活的世界就是被这么一群人统治着，还装什么政治纯情啊，统统地抓紧补习，提高自己的脏话水平，早早地下地狱算了。
关于这个电影的一点现实背景，有助于理解其中的人物关系。
电影里脏话不离口的官员大概就是影射当年布莱尔的副手、臭名昭著的Alastair Campbell。听说这人在现实中就这样，连布莱尔见他都有点害怕。最后因为Dr. Kelly的自杀案爆出来政治丑闻而下台。加上这个演员在另外一个政治讽刺剧中就是扮演Campbell，完全一样的演绎，估计不会是别的什么人。
在Campbell的辅佐下，布莱尔政府把spin doctor制度发挥得淋漓尽致。这些人的工作内容不是传统意义上公务员的公共服务，而是专业从事媒体操纵。需要注意的是，很多人的评论中把他们称为政客，其实他们不是。电影里面没有交待清楚，Alastair Campbell本人原来就是个记者，他实际上是布莱尔的形象助理，很善于对付媒体。他们这些人就是为了帮助政客进行媒体攻关，也就是在媒体前后给政客擦屁股。一来二去，当政客发现他们真的能帮助自己获得公众支持，就变得对他们有了依赖性。这些人也渐渐地自我膨胀，对政客和公务员气指颐使，反而左右了政治方向。这个电影里面真正的官员是那个部长，但是他却显得很窝囊，连样子都比spin doctor们长得矮小和萎缩。而有了spin doctor作为左膀右臂，他也能占据重要位置，但是他连发言都得有spin doctor在旁边管着，说什么、什么时候说其实全不由己。
虽然政客为了选举历来要粉饰自己，但是这些spin doctors真是让英国政治彻底脱掉了遮羞布。政客不再因为信仰而决定自己的政策，而是根据媒体报道来决定。同时，以前至少是表面上严肃的事情，现在都变成了游戏，而且spin doctors们玩得如此投入，竟然没有意识到他们自己已经招致周围的人讨厌。最出名的是911时候，英国交通部Jo Moore给同事发信要求借这个机会把部里的坏消息公布出来，因为大家的注意力都在911，所以有助于淡化公众怨气。可惜，她的邮件被部里的员工披露给媒体，犯了众怒，导致她和部长双双下台。更有意思的是，后来她接受采访的时候，不是对自己缺乏人道的思想有所忏悔，而是抱怨部里面有人看不惯她。这就是spin doctors可悲的一面，他们已经看不到自己为什么招人讨厌了。但是，更可悲的是，她抱怨的政治斗争确实存在。她太习惯于自己圈子里的政治哲学了，忘了他们这些空中悬浮的气球，要面对前方悬挂的道德锋芒。把这个锋芒误以为普通的障碍物，不假思索地蹭过去，就有可能造成崩溃的结局。
当布莱尔下台之后，布朗做的第一件事就是把spin doctors从政府中赶出去，似乎真的大快人心了一会儿。可是，最终因为布朗不会经营自己的形象，从原本有利的位置被推下了政治舞台。看来在媒体当道的时代，用自己心目中的道德制高点和完美主义思想衡量着政客的大众还是习惯于媒体直接拿勺喂。这就决定了政客没有spin doctors也不行。
保守党上台几年过去了，spin doctors的动静好像不是很大。估计是有了前车之鉴，他们不再那么招摇过市，学会了貌似成熟微妙的沟通方式。
《灵通人士》是描写英国政治的喜剧，台词比较隐晦，不容易看懂，多看了几遍关节处，梳理如下。
西蒙福斯特是英国内阁大臣，具体职务是国际发展部部长。英美两国策划一次对中东某国的战争（虚构的，不是伊拉克战争，但是实际映射的是伊拉克战争），要求政府官员要对此保持沉默，不谈论此事。西蒙本身是反战人士，心地善良，缺点是好表现，比较优柔犹豫。在一次bbc 的访谈中收到主持人诱导，表达了自己对战争的看法，认为战争“不可预测”。意思就是说，战争不一定要打，这与首相的观点相左，成为“反战派”。因此受到公关部主管马克西姆的严厉训斥，并且要求其保持沉默，不许对战争表达什么观点。美国助理国务卿克拉克是反战的温和派，试图阻止战争，听到西蒙的观点后，认为可为为其所用，就在到英国召开的一个会议上邀请西蒙，希望他再说一遍战争“不可预测”。但是西蒙这次有命令在身，不敢乱说，又不想不说，就磕磕巴巴的说了些即是不变的，又是可变的胡言乱语。会后，西蒙对自己的表现很失望，在记者的追问下，临场发挥，试图通过含蓄的比喻，表达自己的观点，以弥补会上的失态，不想比喻失当，他说：“在通往和平之路上，要翻越冲突的山峰。”意思被理解成要通过武力实现和平，这样就又变成了“主战派”。数日两变。
事后西蒙到美国出差，温和派克拉克和好战派助理国务卿林顿双方都想利用西蒙。邀请他参加战争委员会的讨论，西蒙承受来自公关部主管的压力，再次表现失当，说了些很难，非常难、超级难的胡话，灰溜溜的回到了英国。
回到英国之后，因为选区的选民的一堵墙问题，收到嘲讽上了报纸。英国首相对西蒙的貌似好战的表态比较满意，又带着西蒙和马克西姆到联合国，参加对中东国家战争进行表决。西蒙不愿意成为发动战争的帮凶，意图在表决前辞职，以表示反战的决心，不想泄露到了媒体。此事为反战派知道，希望拉拢他，壮大反战派的势力，以达到阻止战争的目的。但是西蒙明显的贪恋权位，又不想辞职了。始终在摇摆犹豫中，为双方拉来拉去。
英美两国都没有证据证明必须发动战争，互相指望对方，在表决的前夕，还没有像样的情报。英国首相派来联合国的时候对美国好战助理国务卿林顿表达过，马克西姆可以提供“英国智慧”的情报，马克西姆明显没有理解上去，说“没有什么情报”（nothing）。林顿大怒，指责马克西姆无能。这时西蒙同时出现在马克西姆面前，说要辞职反战。恰巧这时西蒙选区的墙倒塌了，bbc准备报道。马克西姆狗急跳墙，冒充西蒙给bbc打电话，说不要发表“对于自己不利的新闻”。结果bbc如他所愿，立即发表了对西蒙不利的新闻，造成西门失职，首相解出西蒙职务的口实。同时自己领会了首相的意思，命令国内的新闻官，借追究文件泄密的责任的机会，让外交部的官员改造一份美国助理国务卿助手撰写的报告《pwlpp》（该报告本来是反战的，写作方式是先说发动战争的证据，再说不发动战争的证据，后者据多，结果后半部分被删去了，只有发动战争的证据。），提供给美国国务卿林顿，林顿如获至宝，以这个假情报，参加了联合国的辩论，并且通过了对中东国家发动战争的联合国决议。战争在谎言、脏话、以及西蒙的优柔中开始了！
上面是这个电影故事的主线，还有很多辅线，太繁琐，不一一说了，大家可以洗洗体会。全片都是讽刺英美两国官员的官僚作风，官员的相互内斗、陷害、利用，以及高层的无知，妄为。国家为管理者所挟持，为少部分人利用.
美国鸽派的助理国务卿Karen Clarke引用的Liza报告在罗列大量反对对某中东国家出兵的理由的同时，也引用到非常可疑的agent Ice的情报作为反面。但是Linton为首的保守派(原型参考切尼和拉姆斯菲尔德的合体)极力推动这个议案进行UN表决。
最后助理国务卿和将军商量，考虑把报告泄露给媒体形成政治压力(虽然最后泄露的是英国方面)，这也是正常的斗争手段，但是他们的对手显然已经到了毫不顾政治底线的程度- 这个Liza报告在删除所有反面意见后，摇身一变成了英国方面提供的的Birtish intel(英国情报)，倒过来贩卖给美国人，形成了这样一个loop，推动了UN的战争决议。
这个情节已经‘真实’到可怕，直接针对布什-布莱尔时代历史的绕不开的两个问号- 英国贩给美国的伊拉克的大规模杀伤性武器的情报是个什么货色，以及武器专家David Kelly自杀案。这部片子分量本来已经够了，但是编剧的手术刀显然不愿意停留在此。
于是我们看到为了推动政治议程，英国首相不惜用Tucker这样的忠心耿耿的政治打手操纵一切（非常怀疑Tucker的原型是布莱尔政府的Alastair Campbell）。最后的英国捏造的情报，是Tucker的苏格兰小弟捏着懦弱的外交部官员的手指删改而成 - 80年代那个颟须低效然而能有效反弹大臣的臆想的英国文官系统哪里去了？被布莱尔的spin doctor的手抓着送终了。
解决方法呢？最近的议员报销丑闻后，Yes Minister的作者在泰晤士报上，继续兜售他全面直接民主的主张。但是电影里选民鸡毛蒜皮的电话打到大臣助理的手机这样的直接民主，碍得了大臣Forster的这样的君子，防不了Tucker--以及Blair/Mandelsson/Campbell这样通过spin控制一切的真小人。