The Thick of It (TV Series)

Spinners and Losers (2007)

Chris Addison: Oliver Reeder

Quotes 

• Robyn Murdoch : The Mail's got hold of a story about Ben being racist to a cleaner and saying racist things!

  Terri Coverley : Yeah, and they're gonna run with a headline "Uncle Tom's Cabinet", which is gonna be a really big problem for us, actually, because it's a very very good headline!

  Ben Swain : I'm not a racist! I'm so not a racist! One of my best friends is an Asian! No, I know that sounds...

  Malcolm Tucker : [to Jamie]  You! That's it! I'm not standing for that! It's over! You're fucking a dead man walking!

  Jamie : You think I leaked this?

  Malcolm Tucker : What do you think I am, seven years old?

  Jamie : Kiss my bollocks, this has got nothing to do with me!

  [to Ollie] 

  Jamie : It was you!

  Oliver Reeder : No, it wasn't fucking me! Why would it be me? I thought we'd be working together in the new administration!

  Glenn Cullen : The new administration! Listen to the First Lady!

  Oliver Reeder : Shut up, Glenn. Shut up.

  Jamie : I've got it!

  [about Robyn] 

  Jamie : It was fucking Johnny Mitchel here, it was her!

  Robyn Murdoch : I've leaked nothing!

  Jamie : What are you talking about?

  Robyn Murdoch : Other than the incidental leak, obviously.

  Malcolm Tucker : [to Jamie]  I know it was you. You're a pint pot Judas.

  Jamie : It wasn't me!

  Malcolm Tucker : A pint pot Judas!

  Jamie : I'm five foot ten!

  Malcolm Tucker : Well, you don't feel that.

  Glenn Cullen : Malcolm. It wasn't him. It was me.

  Jamie : Oh, fuck off.

  Oliver Reeder : No way. No way.

  Glenn Cullen : I've been leaking for 27 years, I know how it's done. I leaked!

  Oliver Reeder : You don't leak! Well, not from the mouth, anyway.

  Malcolm Tucker : Just fucking shut up. At least this is Hugh's Glenn. All you are, mate, is fucking Ben's Glenn.

• Malcolm Tucker : Has anybody seen Jamie?

  Glenn Cullen : Why? Have you lost him?

  Oliver Reeder : Don't tell me he's gone feral, 'cause he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash!

  Malcolm Tucker : Let's not overreact.

  Oliver Reeder : Easy for you to say, he threatened to shove an ipod up my cock!

  Malcolm Tucker : You get that alot, though, don't you?

• Glenn Cullen : Tom's lot has gone into a huddle.

  Oliver Reeder : What, already?

  Glenn Cullen : This is it, you know. This is where it begins. Who's in, who's out. Fatty is out.

  Oliver Reeder : At least he'll spend more time with his fridge.

  [Tucker arrives] 

  Malcolm Tucker : Has anybody seen Jamie?

  Glenn Cullen : Why? Have you lost him?

  Oliver Reeder : Don't tell me he's gone feral, 'cause he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash!

  Malcolm Tucker : Let's not overreact.

  Oliver Reeder : Easy for you to say, he threatened to shove an ipod up my cock!

  Malcolm Tucker : You get that alot, though, don't you? Who it is that's booked to go on Today tomorrow, do you know?

  Terri Coverley : I could find out...

  Glenn Cullen : It could be Bob Ryan.

  [everyone laughs] 

  Oliver Reeder : That's exactly who it's gonna be.

  Malcolm Tucker : Yeah Glenn, probably Bob Ryan. For fuck's sake! Have you gone back in fucking time? Yeah, I believe Disraeli's standing as well.

  Terri Coverley : And Oliver Cromwell.

  Oliver Reeder : Also fish who hasn't crowled onto the land yet to form the first tetrapod.

  [everyone stare at him] 

  Oliver Reeder : I was hearing maybe... Geoff Holhurst?

  Malcolm Tucker : Geoff? No fucking way, no, he's ruled himself out for definite. Mind you, I could always go and fire a warning shot across his throat.

• Robyn Murdoch : I just don't know what to say when the bloggers and the diary writers hit me with "what about this rumor?". I'm just not comfortable lying.

  Terri Coverley : Oh for God's sake, Robyn. Bloggers! Just tell them to bloody well sod off to their grubby dingy little bedrooms.

  Robyn Murdoch : Now I'm getting calls about Geoff Holhurst, about him standing.

  Oliver Reeder : About Geoff? Calls about that already?

  Terri Coverley : Geoff Holhurst? For leader? That would be extraordinary, very bizzare, he's got such a tiny head!

  Oliver Reeder : You're right, actually, he's got a miniature head!

  Robyn Murdoch : Is Geoff's tiny head standing? Is he out in the cold?

• Glenn Cullen : [watching Dan Miller on TV]  You don't think he's got a chance, do you?

  Oliver Reeder : No, he's just a droid, isn't he? He's just...

  [makes bleeping noises] 

  Malcolm Tucker : Hey hey, don't leat him hear you doing that sort of stuff! What happens if he does stand a chance, eh? He'll fuck you harder than Ron Jeremy and with less warmth.

• Robyn Murdoch : Someone has leaked some things about, you know, immigration policy and the computers and the Mail would like to know what our line is.

  Glenn Cullen : For fuck's sake, that's not a priority, stonewall it.

  Robyn Murdoch : But I can't just say...

  Oliver Reeder : Give them the cold cock, Robyn.

  Robyn Murdoch : What is the cold cock?

  Glenn Cullen : Look, nothing is happening on that tonight, ok? We've only got one fish-frier in here and we have a massive political fish to fry, ok?

  Oliver Reeder : Don't, under any circumstances, mention the massive political fish when you're talking to them!

• Malcolm Tucker : Where's Robyn? Robyn, come here! Quick! I'm bringing Jamie over to fire-fight this Watford story, so you'll be working with Jamie for the rest of the night, you take orders from Jamie. I want you to bury this Watford arsey tonight, because tomorrow morning - from broadsheets to wank rags - I want pages one, two and three to be a profile of Tom looking like a fucking political colossus, you know - Tom meeting the Pope, Tom in a NHS hospital chatting to little baldie kiddies. I want pages four and five to be a timeline of the last years of British politics with ME at the center, looking fucking indispensable and fucking benign, and I want page six to be fucking Israel or some bullshit, not a fucking DoSAC deepshit legacy-distracting COCKUP!

  Robyn Murdoch : It's just Jamie, I find him just a little bit frightening...

  Malcolm Tucker : Relax, he has never hit anyone! Or at least anyone he's hit has never had the bollocks to take it to a superior! It's a fucking joke, it's a joke, ok? The man is a professional, you will be fine!

  Glenn Cullen : Actually, Malcolm, we still have no word on Dan Miller, he's gone dark, he's not answering his phone...

  Malcolm Tucker : Maybe he's in a hotel with his own huddle! Ring around, try and find him.

  Glenn Cullen : What, ring every hotel in London and ask if Dan Miller's booked in?

  Malcolm Tucker : Yeah! Although he could be using an assumed name...

  Glenn Cullen : So, you want me ring round every hotel in London and ask if anyone of any name has booked in?

  Malcolm Tucker : Keep you busy! You know, you have to keep the mind active at your age.

  [to Ollie] 

  Malcolm Tucker : You! Walk my way. I need you to go over there for me. I need you at that hotel.

  Oliver Reeder : You wanna to have a loop.

  Malcolm Tucker : Fuck you, Andy-Pandy, I AM the loop. I want you in there for reason that will not become cleat to you for about 200 years so just do it. Specifically, see if any of Dan Miller's army are mincing in fish nettings and high heels. And I want updates every five.

  Oliver Reeder : Ok.

  Malcolm Tucker : Oi, and listen, get onto your ex at the Mail, allright? Tell her no fucker is standing, it all evaporated like cat's piss on a hot tin roof. Ok, twat-weasel? You got that?

  Oliver Reeder : Yes, thank you.

  [walking away] 

  Oliver Reeder : Malcolm Tucker, an investor in people.

  Malcolm Tucker : Yes, I heard that! Fuck you!

• Oliver Reeder : Ben. A quick thought.

  Ben Swain : Come on, then, enlighten us, grasshoper.

  Oliver Reeder : Tom's dying. He doesn't have to die. We can take his DNA and transfer it to a healthier host.

  Ben Swain : What are you talking about?

  Oliver Reeder : Science fiction analogy. What I'm saying is why don't we sound out a potential fallback?

  Nick Hanway : Who?

  Oliver Reeder : Claire Ballantine. She's highly regarded, she's clean...

  Nick Hanway : Yeah, yeah, I get it... To be honest, I was really hoping that was gonna be shit because I'm tired and I quite like to hit somebody.

• Oliver Reeder : [on the phone]  Listen, Angela, how far have you got with the Ben Swain thing?

  Angela Heaney : Why?

  Oliver Reeder : Well, however far you've got with it, basically, that is too far.

  Angela Heaney : It's not happening.

  Oliver Reeder : I'm reverse-floating it now. I'm sucking it back in the pipe.

  Adam Kenyon : [Adam joins in the conversation on his phone]  Hello.

  Oliver Reeder : Yeah, Adam, hi. Listen, I'm really sorry about this Ben Swain thing.

  Adam Kenyon : Yeah, you know, these thing happen, don't they?

  Oliver Reeder : They do happen.

  Adam Kenyon : Do you know what I'm gonna change page 4 and 5 to now? It's gonna say "Junior government gimp wrecks ex-girlfriend's career." How about that? Do you like that? Do you know what I'm gonna do, Oliver Reeder? I'm gonna spend the rest of my life dedicated to persecuting you in the most poisenous vendetta ever known in the British media, how about that? You have a great day, you have a smashing fucking day.

  [hangs up] 

• Oliver Reeder : [on the phone with Ben Swain]  Mister Ben Swain, my main man, the Swain man! Yeah, no, I just told them I was popping out for a sandwitch, which I was, in fact I still am, listen.

  [chewing] 

  Oliver Reeder : Hear that? That is the sound of my teeth. Already? You're in a huddle with Tom NOW? Offcourse I want in! Well, yeah, absolutely. 'Cause you're my man, aren't you? You're the Ben. You're THE Ben. You know, you're Ben Nevis, Bently Hill. You know, I was thinking, it's just like Election night. We know that we won, already.

• Oliver Reeder : [on the phone]  Angela.

  Angela Heaney : Ollie! How are you?

  Oliver Reeder : I'm Tickety Fockety Boo, thank you very much!

  Angela Heaney : Sorry?

  Oliver Reeder : Tickety Fockety Boo. Just something Ben said.

  Angela Heaney : You and Ben Swain big buds, then?

  Oliver Reeder : Well, you know... Could you hang on just a second?

  [goes to the lavatory] 

  Oliver Reeder : Things are just a little bit fluid here, and Glenn's not really a big Ben fan. Ben Swain, obviously, not the clock. Well, it's not the clock, it's the bell that's called Big Ben.

  Angela Heaney : So, go on, tell me, who else is running?

  Oliver Reeder : Well, no one. No one's gonna stand against Tom, surely he's going to be unnopposed. They'll be re-branding him as we speak, I would imagine. New hair, Ted Baker teeth, all the modern trappings of your political leader...

  Angela Heaney : Ollie! Are you pissing?

  Oliver Reeder : Ah, no, that's the flush of the automatic urinals in the gentelman's lavatory.

  Angela Heaney : I don't wanna talk to you while you're holding your penis.

  Oliver Reeder : Well, that's not what you used to say, Angela.

  Angela Heaney : Yes it is.

  Oliver Reeder : No well, actually that's precicely what you used to say.

  Angela Heaney : We're hearing that someone has booked in to do a Today programm in the morning to announce they're standing.

  Oliver Reeder : Oh?

  Angela Heaney : You and Big Ben out of the loop on that one?

  Oliver Reeder : Ah, no, no, no... That's... Not Geoff Holhurst?

  Angela Heaney : Geoff?

• Ben Swain : Right, Glenn, I'm gonna leave you to your switchboard duties.

  Glenn Cullen : Don't worry about us.

  Ben Swain : Back where the action is. Don't wanna miss a chance getting into Uncle Tom's Cabinet.

  Oliver Reeder : Ok...

  Ben Swain : Problems?

  Oliver Reeder : It's hammer-time. There's been a wild cat walkout at Watford Immigration Center. Whoever's leeking has told the press we weren't prepared to spend money on the repairs of the computer system. The Mail has told them that this department refuses point-blank to do or say anything about it, so the night shift walked out.

  Glenn Cullen : Robyn! What the fuck do you think you're doing?

  Robyn Murdoch : I cold-cocked! You said to! I said nothing was happening, I said nothing was going on here!

  Glenn Cullen : For fuck's sake, where did you learn that? The Civil Servant's school of telling the fucking truth?

  Robyn Murdoch : You said 'cold cocks'!

  Ben Swain : Ollie, I want you to deal with that. I'm gonna get back to the huddle. You get onto the press, tell them I'm all over it, I'm gonna instigate this spectrum-wide sweep of every espect of the... the thing, that I'm not being distracted by leadepship debates.

  Oliver Reeder : Yeah, no problem, Ben. I'll see you at the hotel.

  Ben Swain : Ahh... Yeah, sure, but get this done, we'll see.

  Oliver Reeder : Bring me back a tiny wee Fanta from the MiniBar.

• Glenn Cullen : ...and then Liam said that someone suggested that Tom should go on Strictly Come Dancing.

  Oliver Reeder : [smirks]  He can barely even walk properly!

• Oliver Reeder : [on the phone, after the antidepressants thing breaks]  Hello.

  Malcolm Tucker : Right, what's the plan?

  Oliver Reeder : They don't have a plan.

  Malcolm Tucker : Perhaps you should give them one.

  Oliver Reeder : Oh, yes, fantastic, actually, Malcolm, because I have a very suitable one attached to the underside of my scrotum, so why don't we...

  Malcolm Tucker : Shut it, you're using up all the minutes on my talk-to-your-head-cancer tariff. Listen, get hold of Nick. Ask him if he's thought of sounding out another body. Suggest Claire Ballantine. She's highly regarded, she's clean, and she could, theoretically, occupy the same space as Tom. Call me in three.

• Oliver Reeder : Nick's ready to dump Tom if Ballantine's up for it.

  Malcolm Tucker : [gravely]  You've made me very very happy.

  Oliver Reeder : Yeah, you look it.

• Malcolm Tucker : Has anybody seen Jamie?

  Glenn Cullen : Why? Have you lost him?

  Oliver Reeder : Oh, don't tell me he's gone feral, because he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash!

• Angela Heaney : Ollie! Are you pissing?

  Oliver Reeder : Ah, no, that's the flush of the automatic urinals in the gentelman's lavatory.

  Angela Heaney : I don't wanna talk to you while you're holding your penis!

  Oliver Reeder : Well, that's not what you used to say...

  Angela Heaney : Yes it is.

  Oliver Reeder : No, well, that's precisely what you used to say.

• Glenn Cullen : I've been leaking for 27 years, I know how it's done. I leaked!

  Oliver Reeder : You don't leak! Well, not from the mouth, anyway.

  Malcolm Tucker : Just fucking shut up. At least this is Hugh's Glenn. All you are, mate, is fucking Ben's Glenn.

  Oliver Reeder : "Ben's Glenn"? That's all I am, I'm Ben's Glenn.

  Ben Swain : What's wrong with that? It's not like it's a disease!

  Oliver Reeder : It's not the "Ben" bit, it's the "Glenn" bit.