The Thick of It (TV Series)

Episode #3.5 (2009)

Peter Capaldi: Malcolm Tucker

Quotes 

• Malcolm Tucker : Here's the fucking thing. Nobody talks about fucking dodgy donors, okay? Because it makes everybody look bad.

  Stewart Pearson : Okay, I'll go with a different angle, then. How do you think it would land with your female voters if they were to find out that Tom Rudd forced his secretary into having an abortion?

  Malcolm Tucker : That was her own personal choice and by the way, it wasn't his.

  Stewart Pearson : Wow! So him paying for that private clinic, then, was just because he's such a nice man?

  Malcolm Tucker : He IS a nice man. What about your nice man at central planning, eh? The one who got a bit carried away and fucking slapped his kids about a little bit too much? Fucking broke the skin! But he wasn't such a nice man, was he? But I suppose that's just part of your common sense checklist, yeah. All they need is a good slap, and do please remember to leave your fucking rings on!

  Stewart Pearson : You go check your facts, Malcolm, that was a domestic accident and nothing more.

  Malcolm Tucker : Domestic accident, yeah, 'cause he's got fucking hands the size of fucking doors!

  Stewart Pearson : Oh, you want to talk about hardmen, Malcolm, yeah? Now, I know you've got to be hard to be a chief whip, but really, coke dealing at university?

  Malcolm Tucker : Oh! Please, please!

  Stewart Pearson : Hey, am I right in thinking he's now godfather to one of the PM's kids, yeah?

  Malcolm Tucker : Listen, you know what I have got at the back of my fucking filing cabinet? I have got a fucking photograph that I've been waiting for a fucking rainy day to show everyone, which is a photograph of your fucking shadow chancellor at one of his fucking parties dressed up in fucking bra, suspenders and fucking blackface! What's his defence going to be, hey, when I email that to the fucking Sun? "Oh, well, I am just de shadow chancellor."

  Stewart Pearson : Malcolm, he won't have a defence because you haven't got that picture because that didn't happen.

  Malcolm Tucker : I have!

  Stewart Pearson : However, I do have a statement from a rent boy...

  Malcolm Tucker : Oh, that's very useful for you. You can claim that against your expenses, can't you?

  Stewart Pearson : Oh, yeah, funny, very funny.

  Malcolm Tucker : And you'll get that for free. Is that one of the fucking perks of the job?

  Stewart Pearson : No, listen, his statement says he will swear that one of your prominent back-bench MPs paid him to shit on his chest.

  Malcolm Tucker : Don't!

  Stewart Pearson : Right, look, this is out of order, okay? Here's the deal. We both, both make statements saying that our guys in there, they were not in possession of all the facts. Hmm? But we're looking into it.

  Malcolm Tucker : You'd do that? Hang your own guy out to fucking dry?

  Stewart Pearson : What? Peter Mannion, MP? Yeah! Old guard? We're not sending him to DoSAC to fatten him up, we're putting him out to pasture, Malcolm.

  Malcolm Tucker : We should just go home.

  Stewart Pearson : We can do that. We can just seal this in. Contain the toxicity. Chernobyl FM.

  Malcolm Tucker : I mean, you carry on like this and I might not find you utterly fucking contemptible.

• Malcolm Tucker : [on the phone]  No, I don't give a fuck whose birthday it is. I'm gonna enjoy myself here, listening to this Murray/Mannion ding-dong on the radio. The fat-cat's story breaking, so the Opposition are gonna be sweating like Vegas Elvis on a squash court.

  Sam : [Sam comes in with a box]  Happy Birthday Malcolm.

  Malcolm Tucker : Stop saying that, right? Just you go home. What is this? Is this my new anal beads? OK, this has been X-Rayed, yeah? I'm not gonna get a fucking present bomb in the face.

  [opens the box. inside is a cake with "Happy Birthday C*nt" written on it] 

  Malcolm Tucker : . This could be from anyone.

  [reads the card that says "Love. The Prime Minister"] 

  Malcolm Tucker : It's from Prime Minister. This is fucking Tom's idea of a joke. He wonders why we don't let him out in public.

• Malcolm Tucker : [on the phone to Glenn]  Are you producing porno now for the visually impared?

  Glenn Cullen : What?

  Malcolm Tucker : Because what's happening here on the radio is Nicola Murray getting roundly fucked. What is it, bukake at bedtime?

• Malcolm Tucker : That's your fucking career over, right? Okay, you're fucking dead. And those three little words, "Tim in Ruislip", are the fucking nails in your coffin, dear.

  [IMITATES HAMMERING] 

  Malcolm Tucker : Tim. In. Ruislip. Tim in fucking Ruislip. And as for Tim in fucking...

  Janice : Yeah, okay, can you stop fucking saying that, please?

  Malcolm Tucker : ...fucking Ruislip, he's fucking dead as well! That fucking texting coward. Give me his number. What's his fucking number? Give me the fucking number of Tim in Ruislip. If you don't give me his fucking number, do you know what I'm gonna have to do? I'm gonna have to fucking go to fucking Ruislip and fucking snap the thumb and forefinger off of every single person I see who I think resembles the kind of wanker that would be walking around in this day and fucking age with a name like fucking Tim! How do you think that sounds, huh?

• Malcolm Tucker : Here's the fucking thing. Nobody talks about fucking dodgy donors, okay? Because it makes everybody look bad.

  Stewart Pearson : Okay, I'll go with a different angle, then. How do you think it would land with your female voters if they were to find out that Tom Rudd forced his secretary into having an abortion?

  Malcolm Tucker : That was her own personal choice and, by the way, it wasn't his.

  Stewart Pearson : Wow! So him paying for that private clinic, then, was just because he's such a nice man?

  Malcolm Tucker : He is a nice man. What about your nice man at central planning, eh? The one who got a bit carried away and fucking slapped his kids about a little bit too much? Fucking broke the skin! But he wasn't such a nice man, was he? But I suppose that's just part of your common sense checklist, yeah. All they need is a good slap, and do please remember to leave your fucking rings on!

  Stewart Pearson : You go check your facts, Malcolm, that was a domestic accident and nothing more.

  Malcolm Tucker : Domestic accident, yeah, 'cause he's got fucking hands the size of fucking doors!

  Stewart Pearson : Oh, you want to talk about hardmen, Malcolm, yeah? Now, I know you've got to be hard to be a chief whip, but really, coke dealing at university? Hey, am I right in thinking he's now godfather to one of the PM's kids, yeah?

  Malcolm Tucker : Listen, you know what I have got at the back of my fucking filing cabinet? I have got a fucking photograph that I've been waiting for a fucking rainy day to show everyone, which is a photograph of your fucking shadow chancellor at one of his fucking parties dressed up in fucking bra, suspenders and fucking blackface! What's his defence going to be, hey, when I email that to the fucking "Sun"?

  [mockingly] 

  Malcolm Tucker : "Oh, well, I am just de shadow chancellor."

  Stewart Pearson : Malcolm, he won't have a defence because you haven't got that picture because that didn't happen.

  Malcolm Tucker : I have!

  Stewart Pearson : However, I do have a statement from a rent boy...

  Malcolm Tucker : Oh, that's very useful for you. You can claim that against your expenses, can't you?

  Stewart Pearson : Oh, yeah, funny, very funny.

  Malcolm Tucker : And you'll get that for free. Is that one of the fucking perks of the job?

  Stewart Pearson : No, listen, his statement says he will swear that one of your prominent back-bench MPs paid him to shit on his chest.

  Malcolm Tucker : Don't!

  Stewart Pearson : Right, look, this is out of order, okay? Here's the deal. We both, both make statements saying that our guys in there, they were not in possession of all the facts. Hmm? But we're looking into it.

  Malcolm Tucker : You'd do that? Hang your own guy out to fucking dry?

  Stewart Pearson : What? Peter Mannion, MP? Yeah! Old guard? We're not sending him to DoSAC to fatten him up, we're putting him out to pasture, Malcolm.

  Malcolm Tucker : We should just go home.

  Stewart Pearson : We can do that. We can just seal this in. Contain the toxicity. Chernobyl FM.

  Malcolm Tucker : I mean, you carry on like this and I might not find you utterly fucking contemptible.

  Stewart Pearson : That's an incentive. I'll get my bag.

• Malcolm Tucker : Fuck me! This is like a clown running across a minefield!

• Malcolm Tucker : [to Nichola's chauffeur]  You couldn't turn that over to Magic FM, could you mate? Otherwise I'm gonna have to tear my eyelids off and scrunch them up into fucking earplugs.