Malcolm: Hi, Angela! Oh, like the hair, nice little corkscrews. How's it going?
Ollie: Fine. We were just talking about why Angela shouldn't do a big story on the big insidery piece, kinda day of spin, sort of spread in the paper...
Malcolm: Oh, I don't know. Maybe you should! Good idea!
(Malcolm leaves. Then comes back)
Malcolm: Oh, wait a minute! I know why she shouldn't! Because , you know, if she did that, she'd be dead. To me, to this department, to the government. And she'll never get another story, or even a f***ing whiff of a story as long as she kept her sorry, hack bitch face lingering around Westminster, because I would call every editor I know - which, obviously, that's all of them - and I'd tell them to gouge her name out of their address books so she'd never even get a job on hospital radio where the sad sack belongs. That's what I'd tell her. But maybe you should tell her.