Glenn Cullen
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Quotes for
Glenn Cullen (Character)
from "The Thick of It" (2005)

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"The Thick of It: Spinners and Losers" (2007)
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.

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.

Ben Swain: Hi Glenn.
Glenn Cullen: Ben. How's everything with you? How's the huddle? What is the next mooove?
Ben Swain: The next mooove, my aged retainer, will be the next mooove.
Glenn Cullen: Oh well, gosh, I got to write that down, does it mean anything?

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!

Glenn Cullen: [on the phone with Nick] Nick! Mister Hanway! Good afternoon! Well, I'm fine, thank you. Everything here is a little bit odd, you know. A little bit 'Bob Todd'. Oh, the Hughster! No, he's always been a very big admirer of Tom, so I don't see why he wouldn't back Tom.

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!

Robyn Murdoch: I'm getting a lot of calls.
Glenn Cullen: Well, you're Communications, Robyn, that does tend to happen.
Robyn Murdoch: Don't do jokes, Glenn, you're not a funny man, you're not that type.

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.

Jamie: [to Robyn and Terri] Hey, Desperate Houswifes! You found out who's leaking yet?
Glenn Cullen: I have! It's Julius! He's just told me.
Jamie: Julius? Nicholson? That-baldie-pussy? I tell you, if you think he's leaking now, wait till you see him when I'm finished with him! He'll look like fucking Mel Gibson's Jesus!

Glenn Cullen: [to Terri] It's not the same. You're on the last chopper out of Saigon, I'm having it up the ass with Ho Chi Minh!

Glenn Cullen: I'm supposed to be keeping Hugh abreast of everything but I'm feeling about as up to date as a Gregorian calendar, I'm completely out of the loop.
Julius Nicholson: Join the club. I'm having a bit of a Robinson Crusoe moment myself, but, between you and me, I'm beginning to piss myself with excitement because I've started to leak the immigration figures to the press.
Glenn Cullen: You're leaking? That is funny. Julius Nicholson, the wild one.
Julius Nicholson: I'm the new Che Guevara. I just need a new moustache and some laser correction eye treatment.

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!

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 to 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.

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.

Jamie: [to Terri and Robyn] Hey, Desperate Housewives! You found out who's leaking yet?
Glenn Cullen: I have! It's Julius! He's just told me.
Jamie: Julius? Nicholson? That-baldie-pussy? If you think he's leaking now, wait till you see when I'm finished with him! He'll look like fucking Mel Gibson's Jesus! Fuck!


"The Thick of It: Episode #1.2" (2005)
Hugh Abbott: So, how do we respond to this?
Terri Coverley: Right, we don't exchange insults with bloody Simon arsepipes... tittytwat.
Oliver Reeder: Is that honestly the best swearing you can come up with?
Glenn Cullen: This is a bucket of shit. If someone throws shit at us, we throw shit back at them. We start a shit fight. We throw so much shit at them, that they can't pick up shit, they can't throw shit, they can't do shit.
Hugh Abbott: That's top swearing Glenn, well done.

Malcolm Tucker: Ok, this is what we're doing: I'm putting about through a number of cronies that Hewitt's piece was a packet of bollocks, he did it as a favor to Cliff.
Oliver Reeder: Cliff being...
Glenn Cullen: Cliff Lawton.
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh's predesessor. He and Hewitt are as tight as arse cheeks.
Hugh Abbott: [surprised] Are they now?
Malcolm Tucker: Fuck knows, but that's what we're saying, ok? It's personal, it's backslapping, it's borderline homoerotic, and you are the innocent victim of a nasty media stitch-up. I'm fixing you up with a "Me and My Media" piece with
[points to Ollie]
Malcolm Tucker: your ex Angela Heaney. But, this is a perfect opportunity to show just how clued-up you are, actually! Hughey Abbot, the in-touch guy! You're on the ball! You know the price for a pint of milk! You love HBO imports, VH1, Pixar, you dig the Streets.
Hugh Abbott: Yeah, yeah, yeah, they're all great.
Malcolm Tucker: You've got absolutely no fucking idea what I'm talking about, do you?
Hugh Abbott: Yes, I do.
Malcolm Tucker: Who's the only gay in the village?
Hugh Abbott: Eddie Grundy. I dunno... No, he has children. Mind you, alot of them do these days! Ben at the Foreign Office...
Malcolm Tucker: What's a chav?
Hugh Abbott: Ch... erm...
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh, what is a chav?
Oliver Reeder: Come on, you must know this!
Glenn Cullen: Chav!
Malcolm Tucker: Chav!
Hugh Abbott: Just saying "chav" isn't really helpful!
Malcolm Tucker: This is important stuff, Hugh! Right, we do a weekly digest for the Prime Minister, we boil down the week's television, cinema, music, so on.
Oliver Reeder: The Zeitgeist tapes.
Malcolm Tucker: Exactly, the Zeitgest tapes. EastEnders highlights, choice bits from all the reality shows, 10 seconds music videos, that kind of thing.
Hugh Abbott: That's why the PM always looks so clued-up! I always thought he was jenuenly quite with it.
Malcolm Tucker: No, no, he's as bad as you, he uses phrases like "with it" as well. Right, I'm gonna bike that over to Terri, watch it, ok? And listen, when you talk to Angela Heaney, remember to stick the boot into Hewitt. I'm putting it about that Cliff offered him two free weeks at his Toscan villa for that piece, ok?
Hugh Abbott: Ten-four, daddy-o!
Malcolm Tucker: Hey, hey, hey, this is serious! You've got 24 hours to sort out your policy on EastEnders, right? Or you're for the halal butchers!
[Ollie does an imitation of the EastEnders opening music]
Malcolm Tucker: Even he knows.

Malcolm Tucker: [shouting at Mary, the focus-group actress] You just want to think about what is gonna happen tomorrow!
Hugh Abbott: Because tomorrow, you are gonna find the press all over you.
Mary: In a good way?
Hugh Abbott: No, not in a good way!
Malcolm Tucker: You know that film Notting Hill, have you seen that?
Glenn Cullen: She's probably fucking in it!
Malcolm Tucker: You know the bit when the guy opens the door and there's like millions of journalists and hacks and photographers and all flash bulbs going off? In four hours time that's gonna be you, they're gonna be all over you like fucking cockroaches!
Hugh Abbott: [trying to calm a disstressed Mary] It's ok.
Malcolm Tucker: No, no, no, it's not ok, it's not going to be ok, and I tell you why. Because you're fair game, so I hope your knickers are clean because every seat-sniffing little shitbag that's ever filed a by-line is gonna be questioning you! Because now it's in the fucking public interest, isn't it? And they are gonna hit you with any shit they can find and you're gonna be spread out infront of them like a trollop in the stocks!

Malcolm Tucker: [night, everyone's in Tucker's office, except for Abbot, who's in the car on his way home] I've never seen headlines like it!
Oliver Reeder: In what way?
Malcolm Tucker: It's all gone to shite!
Glenn Cullen: Oh, the papers didn't like the policy?
Malcolm Tucker: They hate it, they fucking loath it! Are you getting all this, Hugh?
Hugh Abbott: [on the phone] Yes, you're very clear.
Terri Coverley: Do they all hate it? The Times?
Malcolm Tucker: Especially The Times.
Hugh Abbott: Wait a minute, the first edition hasn't even gone to bed yet, how do you know?
Malcolm Tucker: Because I'm connected, I'm plugged into the Matrix. I AM the fucking Matrix.
Hugh Abbott: Sorry?
Malcolm Tucker: Have you not watched that tape yet?
Hugh Abbott: I'm taking it home now, gonna watch it there. We just bought a new video player of the back of Alicia's obsession with Pingu.
Malcolm Tucker: Ok, I want you all to pay attention - this Arts policy is dead. Ok? As of now. Get a press release out and bung it in the owen. Fuck off, the lot of you.

Malcolm Tucker: Ok, this is what we're doing: I'm putting about through a number of cronies that Hewitt's piece was a packet of bollocks, he did it as a favor to Cliff.
Oliver Reeder: Cliff being...
Glenn Cullen: Cliff Lawton.
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh's predesessor. He and Hewitt are as tight as arse cheeks.
Hugh Abbott: Are they now?
Malcolm Tucker: Fuck knows, but that's what we're saying, ok? It's personal, it's backslapping, it's borderline homoerotic, and you are an innocent victim of a nasty media stitch-up.

Oliver Reeder: Focus group companies do it all the time, if they can't cobble together the, yknow, right cross section, they call a casting agency
Glenn Cullen: Dial-An-Opinion, is this, send me three liberals, two fucking mavericks and a racist?

Terri Coverley: [Talking about her role in the department in relation to policy] It's not my role to have a preference - I sell the apples. If you want me to sell the apples, I'll sell the apples. But if you want me to sell oranges, then I'll go and tell people that the apples, the apples are shit Olly, they're shit - I'll say go on, check out our oranges.
Hugh Abbott: Do you have a pref- which do you prefer, you know, apples or oranges?
Terri Coverley: [Exasperated] Apples!
Hugh Abbott: Apples?
Terri Coverley: Apples.
Hugh Abbott: OK, thank you!
Glenn Cullen: Hugh, if we are going to spend taxpayers money putting violent thugs into productions of the fucking Cherry Orchard then we're gonna get crucified, and rightly so!
Hugh Abbott: Hang on a second - Terri, which was apples, was Olly apples or was Glenn apples?
[Terri has left her desk]
Hugh Abbott: oh, she's gone.

Glenn Cullen: This is a bucket of shit. If someone throws shit at us, we throw shit back at them. We start a shit fight. We throw so much shit back at them so they can't pick up shit, they can't throw shit, they can't DO shit.

Malcolm Tucker: Ok, this is what we're doing: I'm putting about through a number of cronies that Hewitt's piece was a packet of bollocks, he did it as a favor to Cliff.
Oliver Reeder: Cliff being...
Glenn Cullen: Cliff Lawton...
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh's predesessor. He and Hewitt are as tight as arse cheeks.
Hugh Abbott: Are they now?
Malcolm Tucker: Fuck knows, but that's what we're saying, ok? It's personal, it's backslapping, it's borderline homoerotic, and you are an innocent victim of a nasty media stitch-up.


"The Thick of It: Episode #3.3" (2009)
Glenn Cullen: Ah, you got past mad conference security, then.
Nicola Murray: It's bonkers, isn't it? It's like trying to get through Israeli customs wearing a t-shirt saying "I heart bombing Israel".

Glenn Cullen: Listen, John, on the outside chance she might just prefer to meet a human being, I'm going down with you.
Oliver Reeder: Good idea. You could buy her a coffee. You could buy her a collapse-achino.
John Duggan: Might bring back memories of her Latte husband. As in late husband.
[to Ollie]
John Duggan: Like Dick and Dom, aren't we? Great chemistry.
Glenn Cullen: Except neither one of you are Doms.

Glenn Cullen: Are you in on this?
John Duggan: Oh, no, I'm just obeying orders. Like a Nazi guard, but in a non-gassy way.

Glenn Cullen: I don't think that Malcolm saw my point of view. I got punched.

Malcolm Tucker: [Glenn's in the bathroom after Tucker punched him. Tucker comes into the room] Where's the patient?
Glenn Cullen: I don't wanna speak to you right now, Malcolm.
Nicola Murray: I think you should leave.
Malcolm Tucker: Do you?
Nicola Murray: Yes. What, you gonna hit me?
Malcolm Tucker: I don't fucking hit women.
Oliver Reeder: Except Glenn, obviously.
Malcolm Tucker: Just fucking leave Glenn out of this. Glenn's been through enough as it is. Listen mate, I'm really... I'm really sorry about what happened at the heat of the fucking moment, yeah? I'm under a lot of pressure right now. I'm trying to plug a lot of leaks. I've had my finger in the dyke but the dyke's really very squirty.
Oliver Reeder: As in Fat Pat? I've heard that she's a...
Malcolm Tucker: Shut up. We're old soldiers, right? This is like the war time, ok? I mean, every now and then you're gonna get an incedent of friendly fire. Yeah?
Glenn Cullen: Yeah.
Malcolm Tucker: Good man.

Glenn Cullen: I feel I'm in a therapy group being run by my own rapist.


"The Thick of It: Episode #2.1" (2005)
Glenn Cullen: [about Ollie being seconded to Nr.10 for a week] They only want him to make Cappucinos.
Hugh Abbot: He does it very well. I think it's the way you waggle your finger so hard in the milk.
Oliver Reeder: Yeah, you think it's my finger, bitch.

Hugh Abbott: Have you, though?
Glenn Cullen: What?
Hugh Abbott: Ever cleaned up your own mother's piss?
Glenn Cullen: No, I never knew my mother, Hugh, as you remember.
Hugh Abbott: Oh, sorry. Have you ever cleaned up your stepmother's piss?
Glenn Cullen: No, I never cleaned her piss, it wasn't that kind of relationship.
Hugh Abbott: No, nor me. Though I have to say, I've done Alicia's piss, and then Charlie's piss, I mean, you know, loads of it. But, you know, it's only piss... I mean, she was going on as if it was sort of toxic waste or something. But it's... what's a bit of piss?

[just before he leaves, Ollie slaps Glenn round the back of the head, to get him back for "happy-slapping" him before]
Glenn Cullen: Stupid boy.
Hugh Abbot: That was funny.
Glenn Cullen: That was funny?
Hugh Abbot: Yeah.
Glenn Cullen: I don't think it was funny.
Hugh Abbot: I'm an elected representative of the people. It was funny.

Hugh Abbot: [on a rooftop, talking to Glenn on the ground below over the phone] Glenn? Is she still saying it?
Glenn Cullen: Oh, God, yes.
[to the angry Welsh woman who is still complaining to him]
Glenn Cullen: Would you please just give me a moment?
[to Hugh]
Glenn Cullen: Yes, yes, she's banging on about it even now. The trouble is, Hugh, they reckon they've got some great shots, you know...
Hugh Abbot: Great shots?
Glenn Cullen: The thing is, don't panic, you know...
Pauline McKendrick: [to Glenn as he tries to talk to Hugh on the phone] ... this is what you do though because it's disgusting! You cannot treat people like this!
Glenn Cullen: [suddenly whips round on her] CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT UP! For one fucking minute? I'm asking nicely. Please!
[he resumes his call with Hugh]
Glenn Cullen: Now, Hugh, look, I'm going to have hang up. I'm going to have to deal with her...
Pauline McKendrick: Did you enjoy that? Did you enjoy that?

Hugh Abbot: Sometimes I... you know, when you meet the real, the actual people... don't you, I mean, you just look at the little beady eyes and mean mouths sort of sneering, and... I mean, I know this is what they think people like me think so I hate thinking it, but I just find myself thinking they're from a different fucking species. You know, with their t-shirts and weird trousers and tabards and... Why do they wear clothes with writing on? And why are they so fucking fat?
Glenn Cullen: I know. And stupid.


"The Thick of It: The Rise of the Nutters" (2007)
Glenn Cullen: [on the phone to Hugh, after the PM's resignation] You know, as far as the click thing goes, you really click with Tom's wife and Fatty's, you know, not wife, whatever, so that particular glass ceiling is smashed!

Glenn Cullen: [to Ollie, about Ben's performance on Newsnight] It was the worst thing I've ever seen. And I was in 'Nam.

Glenn Cullen: Listen, Ollie, you may be babysitting a Nutter, he may look like a Wamble, but he's got Nutter eyes and Nutter ears, so keep an eye on.
Oliver Reeder: Alright, the minute any chicken blood turns up on the paperwork I'll be straight onto you, don't worry.

Malcolm Tucker: [on the phone, talking about the "Silly Tucker" article] The story isn't me, Glenn, ok? Nobody is interested in me and I'll be pleased if you would remember that, ok?
Glenn Cullen: You sure you don't want me and Hugh to come back, we could give you some cover?
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh is not coming back, it will look like we're panicking and we're not panicking, but I need you back here fucking ASAP to let them know that we're not panicking!
Glenn Cullen: So you want me to interrupt my holiday in a panic so Hugh doesn't have to interrupt his holiday and look like he's panicking?
Malcolm Tucker: You get back here! I wanna see you popping a bollock for me!
[hangs up. Jamie comes into the office with the article]
Jamie: You seen this?
Malcolm Tucker: No, I haven't seen that. I'm the senior press guy for the government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. No, I don't look at the newspapers, that's fucking news to me!
Jamie: Allright, allright, what are we doing?
Malcolm Tucker: What are we doing? Fuck all, we're not doing nothing, because I am not the story here!
Jamie: You kind of are the story, Malcolm. They spelled your name right and everything.
Malcolm Tucker: Look, I'm not doing nothing. Not drawing attention to it!
Jamie: I'm not drawing attention to it.
Malcolm Tucker: You're drawing MY attention to it!
[Jamie looks at the article]
Malcolm Tucker: Stop looking at it!
Jamie: Allright, allright, we'll stay frozen to the fucking phone, we'll send the media to Coventry, that will help.
Malcolm Tucker: That WILL help, that is the way I wanna play it, ok? I'm going for a walk.
Jamie: A walk?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, what, I don't need your fucking permission to go for a walk!
Jamie: No,no.
Malcolm Tucker: I can go for a walk?
Jamie: Yeah, I just never seen you going for a walk before.
Malcolm Tucker: How do you think I get in here in the morning? How do I get from the front door to here, I fucking walk, don't I?
Jamie: Yeah, but you don't go FOR a walk.
Malcolm Tucker: I'm away for a walk!


"The Thick of It: Episode #2.3" (2005)
Oliver Reeder: Who wants to go and watch bollockvision?
Hugh Abbott: Bollockvision?
Oliver Reeder: Mr. Malcolm Tucker, turning it all the way up to eleven down in the lobby. Come and have a look.
[cut to them all watching Tucker shouting at another minister on an adjacent floor from a balcony]
Hugh Abbott: Poor Keith. Malcolm must fucking love this place, four ministers in one building. It's his dream, a one-stop bollock shop.
Glenn Cullen: Trouble is we're going to be getting some of that in about an hour.
Hugh Abbott: Yeah. I don't know which is worse, watching him slowly rumble towards you like a prostate cancer or him appearing suddenly out of nowhere like a severe stroke.
[Terri, whose father just died, looks at him]
Hugh Abbott: Oh. How's your sister coping?

Malcolm Tucker: So, did you enjoy the show?
Glenn Cullen: You were magnificent, darling!
Hugh Abbott: Yeah, should I phone Keith so I can get his team to watch you bollock me now?
Malcolm Tucker: No no no. Have I got my bollocking face on?
Hugh Abbott: Well, I...
Malcolm Tucker: [making a seriously scary face] No, this is my bollocking face.
Hugh Abbott: Oh, crickey, yes. Thanks for the pot plant, by the way.
Malcolm Tucker: Did I send that?
Hugh Abbott: As an office warming present.
Malcolm Tucker: Christ, she's a great PA isn't she, Sam? She always remembers the little people. Look at the size of that fucker, you can fucking crucify somebody on that!

Hugh Abbott: So, citizenshit. What we need to do to knock together some nice, touchy-feely, fondle-y, sneaky, hand-in-the-bra sort of policies.
Glenn Cullen: New bicycles for special constables, that sort of thing?
Hugh Abbott: Yeah. Yeah.
Oliver Reeder: Making special needs kids clean up graffiti.
Hugh Abbott: Yeah, that's just very mean.
Oliver Reeder: Well, yes. Not, of course, as mean as making them spell graffiti. That genuinely is very mean.
Glenn Cullen: [gets up and leaves] I'll go and have a word with Malcolm.
Oliver Reeder: OK.
Hugh Abbott: You just took a shit with your clothes on, Olly.
Oliver Reeder: Why?
Hugh Abbott: Glenn's boy, Peter, he went to a special needs school.
Oliver Reeder: Oh.
Hugh Abbott: Yep.
Oliver Reeder: Glenn's had sex.
Hugh Abbott: God, you are such a prick, Olly. There's more to life, you know, than drinks parties at the Foreign Office and having Nick Robinson's mobile number on your fucking Blackberry.
Oliver Reeder: All right, all right, fine. Sorry, Hugh. I feel for the guy, I had a girlfriend with special needs once, so I know.
[with a smile]
Oliver Reeder: Luckily I was able to fulfil them.
Hugh Abbott: Oh, God, you're such a...

Glenn Cullen: [on the plans to shut down special schools] Inclusion is an illusion.


"The Thick of It: Episode #1.1" (2005)
Hugh Abbot: 'Should', does it mean 'yes'?
Glenn Cullen: Yes, "we should do this".
Hugh Abbot: When Tucker was talking to me 'should' didn't mean 'yes'. I mean it really didn't. I felt like a fool.

Glenn Cullen: [trying to come up with a policy idea] What we need is something that the public want, is incredibly popular and is free.
Olly Reeder: Return of capital punishment.

Hugh Abbot: I want a new driver. Get me a new driver. I don't wanna see this guy ever again.
Glenn Cullen: On what grounds?
Hugh Abbot: Smiling! Innapropriate smiling! And smirking! Smiling and smirking! I don't wanna see that smile or smirk ever again, ok?

Hugh Abbott: I want a new driver. Get me a new driver. I don't wanna see this guy ever again.
Glenn Cullen: On what grounds?
Hugh Abbott: Smiling! Inappropriate smiling! And smirking! Smiling and smirking! I don't wanna see that smile or smirk ever again, ok?


"The Thick of It: Episode #3.1" (2009)
Glenn Cullen: Well. That's Hugh gone then.
Terri Coverley: That's so sad, isn't it... Hugh.
Oliver Reeder: You don't give a shit!
Terri Coverley: No, perhaps I don't.

Oliver Reeder: Northern Ireland office - Tom Rudd. Who's Tom Rudd? Tom Rudd?
Terri Coverley: Isn't he in Harry Potter?
Glenn Cullen: Tom Rudd is army slang for standing up buggery.

Malcolm Tucker: Glenn. See this Dickensian hysteric who's just gone home? Here's what you do, right? You're make out you're the Great Oz, yeah? You make a big noise to impress Nicola. But secretly, you're wanking behind the curtain to me all the time.
Glenn Cullen: You want me to pass information on to you?
Malcolm Tucker: Don't kill yourself, well not over this, you know. I just want you to make her feel good, you know? You can be a friend of Dorothy's, can't ya? Then we'll all get some fucking peace around here!


"The Thick of It: Episode #3.2" (2009)
Glenn Cullen: It's my duty to advise you of appendix 4 of a Data Protection Acts advisory note to government departments.
Nicola Murray: Sounds like you're arresting me. Appendix what?
Robyn Murdoch: Shut it, we ask the questions here, ma'am.

Malcolm Tucker: Little pigs... Little pigs. Let me come in. Don't worry about the hair on the chiny-chin-chin.
Nicola Murray: So, what was your call?
Malcolm Tucker: What was my call? You want to know what my call was?
Nicola Murray: Was it important?
Malcolm Tucker: I'm sorry, I didn't realise that I had to run all my calls through your bed-wetters switchboard here. I usually just dial 118.
Nicola Murray: Malcolm, do you know?
Oliver Reeder: Obviously he knows.
Glenn Cullen: No, he doesn't know...
Nicola Murray: There has been a massive irretrievable data loss. The last 7 months worth of new immigrant details have gone, apparently lost in the computer.
Malcolm Tucker: Oh...
[laughs]
Malcolm Tucker: Do you know what's really fucking sad here is that I don't have the energy to pretend I already knew. Which is for the best, because I'm gonna need all of my fucking energy to fucking rip all of your bodies to bits with my bare hands and sell off, yes, sell off your fucking flayed skin as a sleeping bag to a fucking normal person!
Nicola Murray: Can I just say that getting angry isn't gonna help anything. I've done anger, I'm currently at grief, I'm working my way towards bargaining, whatever, you know, you're behind me...
Malcolm Tucker: So, what is your great strategy for dealing with this? Come on, I'm fucking all ears. I'm fucking Andrew Marr here.
Nicola Murray: So let's... Terri, let's hear what you...
Malcolm Tucker: Let's go, let's get going. High-level technical discussion, I'm up for it.
Terri Coverley: Right. Blaming the departmenet, minister, might be a high-risk strategy.
Malcolm Tucker: Oh, high-risk. Saucy. Pass F.
Nicola Murray: My pitch would be - this departement is fatally flawed. It's out of condition, it's obese, it's astmatic.
Malcolm Tucker: That's it girl, back over the net.
Glenn Cullen: You need to be really sure about that, Nicola.
Malcolm Tucker: Yes, wise words from the distinguished elderly gay fucking tennis coach here.
Oliver Reeder: Seriously, I think we should talk about my strategy futher because I really think that's the way...
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, the fucking wee boy is having a go now with his fucking tiny shorts on.
[to Robyn]
Malcolm Tucker: What about Sue Barker's little sister here? What's she got to say? You've got something to say to add to the conversation?
Robyn Murdoch: No, just that there was no Lemon zinger so uhm... This is coffee, is that alright?

Oliver Reeder: Glenn, mate... What would you do if you found that a dongle that everyone had thought was lost was right at the bottom of your second best bag?
Glenn Cullen: I don't think, we'd want it back. Right now, Ollie, Nicola hates us but if she knew we'd found it - she'd start laughing. Hating is better than laughing. Trust me.


"The Thick of It: Episode #2.2" (2005)
Hugh Abbot: [arguing about Hugh remaining in the dark on the 8:30's situation] Why didn't you tell me, Glenn? What possible reason did you have? You saw me, I was swinging like a colostomy bag!
Glenn Cullen: Oh, Hugh, grow up! Stuff happens in this department every day, I can't tell you everything!
Hugh Abbot: Since when, Glenn, since when does the Secretary of State for Social Affairs have to find out from the fucking press that every morning at 8:30 I'm being fisted up the gallbladder by a bald man?

Malcolm Tucker: Alright, guys, thanks very much for staying on. Julius Nicholson, right? Blue-sky thinker? Ex-business guru? Dog rapist? He's being a nuisance to me, he's also got plans of squizzing your department so hard, you'll be lucky to be left with one bollock between the three of you. So all I'm doing here is asking you, formally, if you will join me in a little bit of a circle jerk?
Hugh Abbot: Circle jerk?
Oliver Reeder: Alot of guys in a circle, all, you know... Well, I assume you don't mean literally, do you? Presumably?
Malcolm Tucker: [to Glenn] Tony Mack in the Lobby, you know him, right? Call him, now. Tell him that you're getting that Nicholson is gonna get Foreign Sec in the reshuffle.
Glenn Cullen: [on the phone] Tony! Hi! How's it dangling, yeah? Listen, I just want to run something past you. I wonder if you're hearing what, you know, I've been hearing, that Nicholson's gonna be getting Foreign Sec.
Malcolm Tucker: Hugh, who is your top mate in the commenteria?
Hugh Abbot: Colin Sykes.
Malcolm Tucker: Colin Sykes? That's your top mate? Call him up!
Hugh Abbot: [on the phone] Hi, Colin! It's Hugh Abbot speaking, how are you? Got a decent back hand yet? Hugh, Hugh Abbot, we played tennis together. Yeah, yeah!
Glenn Cullen: [on the phone] I know it's probably bollocks, but that's what we all thought when Jim was up for Home Secretary. Next thing we know, he's given up the Colombian marching powder and taken up the sacraments.
Hugh Abbot: [on the phone] Foreign Secretary is exactly where he should be, he's a smart guy. I think at one point I called him a dog rapist.
[Tucker's phone rings]
Malcolm Tucker: [on the phone] Cath! I don't know where it's come from, I've been getting it as well! Stonewall them, ok? I'll talk to the boss!
[hangs up]
Malcolm Tucker: And now I'm gonna phone the Prime Minister of Great Britain.
[on the phone]
Malcolm Tucker: Allright, boss? Yeah, look, I'm really sorry to interrupt you, but we're getting hit on the blind side here! Stuff about Julius Nicholson? Cath's and I phones are both white hot. Stuff about him becoming Foreign Sec! Am I out of the loop here? Well, person that's most likely to be getting his mates to put this kind of stuff around is Julius Nicholson. You put so much hope in them, they always let you down. I think maybe Julius needs to have his wings clipped a wee bit, you know. Do you wanna do it? I think you're right, I think it's better if I just had a little chat. I'll see you in the morning. Night.
[hangs up]
Malcolm Tucker: Fucking brilliant! Eight missed messages! Sleep lightly.


"The Thick of It: Episode #3.5" (2009)
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?

Glenn Cullen: Oh, hello. Nice dinner?
Emma Messinger: Fuck off, bagpuss.


"The Thick of It: Episode #4.5" (2012)
Adam Kenyon: [to Glenn] Hey! 2,000-year old man! Why the FUCK did you send the whole email? Huh? You were supposed to redact it! Send the top email, not the whole fucking exchange! Jesus Christ on a crystal meth binge!
Glenn Cullen: Terri and I sent what you gave me.
Adam Kenyon: [in disbelief] Terri? Why the fuc - THE ONLY REASON I'D EVER ASK TERRI FOR HELP IS - IS TO SHOOT ME IF I EVER ASKED TERRI FOR HELP!
Glenn Cullen: Same reason you gave it to me. Distance. Two people, twice the distance!
Fergus Williams: BUT TERRI DOESN'T GIVE US ANY DISTANCE! TERRI GIVE ME A TWITCH!
[points to his eye]
Fergus Williams: RIGHT HERE! Yeah, laugh it up, Glenn, BUT I'VE GOT A TWITCH CALLED TERRI!
Terri Coverley: [angrily, from behind a book shelf] I am actually here, you know!
Fergus Williams: Yeah! And that, in a nutshell, is the whole fucking problem!
[Fergus storms off, Adam follows]
Adam Kenyon: [singsong] Fuck you very much.
[to the bewildered carers, who have witnessed the entire exchange]
Adam Kenyon: Five minutes, guys.


"The Thick of It: Episode #3.7" (2009)
Glenn Cullen: Malcolm's got to keep moving or he's dead. He's like a shark, or Bob Dylan.


"The Thick of It: Episode #4.7" (2012)
Glenn Cullen: Right! Everybody listen; I've got an announcement to make.
Phil Smith: What is it? You've got an erection?
Glenn Cullen: No! I would like to tell you all that I'm resigning.
Phil Smith: Is that it?
Glenn Cullen: No, you closeted Regency homosexual, that is not it! Morally, this department is in the gutter.
Fergus Williams: Thanks for the speech, Glenn, but...
Glenn Cullen: [grabs a lamp and rushes towards Fergus] You stay and take the punishment! I will lamp you... with a lamp.
Terri Coverley: Glenn, you've gone a tiny bit psychotic, my love.
Glenn Cullen: You, Fergus... when you asked me to join you, all you had was your principles, but over the last two years you've bent like a human fucking palm tree, swaying to the guff of these six-toed, born-to-rule ponyfuckers.
Adam Kenyon: If you're gonna go, just go. Spare us this Peter Finch bullshit.
Glenn Cullen: Oh, Adam, you're waiting for your turn! Oh no, I remember... it's your turn right now.
Adam Kenyon: Brilliant. Brilliant...
Glenn Cullen: You are simply the most loathsome human being I have ever met. You were so well suited at the Mail it's a shame you came over here. You know what? I hate you both; Tweedle-Twat and Tweedle-Prick. You contribute absolutely nothing to the world so thank fucking God you have no power!
Fergus Williams: We do, actually...
Glenn Cullen: No you don't! And Peter... it's been dreadful. I hope your cock falls off. Phil, do you know what you are? You're like an eight year old trapped in a twelve year olds body.
Phil Smith: This is great! Why is no one filming this?
Glenn Cullen: And Emma...
Phil Smith: Yeah yeah yeah, do Emma, do Emma.
Glenn Cullen: Emma, I'm sorry, you're just a standard issue insipid posh bitch... that's it! Terry... I don't think I've ever met someone quite so proud, and yet quite so useless. But I do have to thank you, because I have managed to stay in shape purely through the energy I spend in pitying you every day!
Terri Coverley: Glen, you're just embarrassing yourself.
Glenn Cullen: Fuck you all up the wrongin! Ta ta! Bubye!
Phil Smith: That was better than IMAX Inception.
Terri Coverley: Poor, poor Glenn...
Peter Mannion: Should we try and get him back?
Emma Messinger: Fuck no! He's gone completely mental.