ANTAGONISING

Ah, diarrhoea. This is Minister for international Development. He should be talking about food parcels, not fucking arse-spraying mayhem. Oh, say it again. Yes, very good. What is this, the shitting forecast?

Be here, now. You are supposed to be a Cabinet minister! You are supposed to be the officer class! Don't do this, don't make fucking waves.

Department of Social Affairs. Department of fucking, shocking, shitty, charlatan shits. That's what… Feet off the furniture, you Oxbridge twat. You're not in a punt now.

FUCK'S SAKE! Jesus! Christ! We'll never get another fucking adjective til I get to fucking smug and glum. ... haven't we - FUCKING RETARDED! Jesus Christ - Do you not think it would have been germane to check who you're talking to - it's a fucking newspaper office! it's not a fucking sanatorium for the fucking deaf - is it?!

I don't care. I don't care if he's tired. He looked like he didn't know what he was fucking talking about. Now, I know he doesn’t know what he’s fucking talk about, but he's got to appear as if he does, right? And that is your job, and your job. And yours and yours and yours and yours and yours and yours and yours. With all due respect to ministers, give them the fucking lines. Right?

So, the wires are all currently reporting that you're going to resign over the war.

Yeah, we've got to plug that leak. l don't know what else they've got and where's this intel? Are you sure you're working as hard as me? l'm sweating spinal fluid here. l'm a fucking husk. Jesus.

You know Jackie fucking Chan about me. You know fuck all about me! I am totally beyond the realms of your fucking tousle-haired, fucking dim-witted compre-fucking-hension. I don't just take this fucking job home, you know. I take this job home, it fucking ties me to the bed, and it fucking fucks me from arsehole to breakfast. Then, it wakes me up in the morning with a cup full of piss slammed in my face, slaps me about the chops, to make sure I'm awake enough so it can kick me in the fucking bollocks.