At some point, aliens will invade and humanity's ENTIRE existence will depend on me stepping up to the plate:
WILL SMITH: You can hack the mothership?!
JEFF GOLDBLUM: In theory, but I'll need the data cable for a Nokia 3310.
ME <entering with cable box>: Chill lads. I got this.
• • •
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GLENN: Malcolm, there's a problem
TUCKER: With the investigation?
GLENN: Yes
TUCKER: What?
GLENN: There's more than one Xmas Party
TUCKER: You're not actually INVESTIGATING are you?!
GLENN: You told me to!
TUCKER: I've also told you to stop being a twat. That's never stopped you
TUCKER: Glenn, do you remember what you told me when I asked you to investigate this?
GLENN: That I was at the party.
TUCKER: Aye. And do you know what quality I value you for?
GLENN: Honesty?
TUCKER:
GLENN: Um. Integrity?
TUCKER: You're a fucking coward Glenn. A weasel.
GLENN: That's not very nice.
TUCKER: You're a fucking weasel Glenn. So when I needed a weasel to weasel their way out of admitting there was a fucking party I thought of you Glenn, a weasel who was at the weasel party.
GLENN:
TUCKER: Because you're a weasel
GLENN: Yes, I got that
OLLIE: So there won't be an investigation?
TUCKER: Oh aye. There'll be an investigation. Glenn! You're in charge of the investigation
GLENN: I'm investigating the party?
TUCKER: Alleged party
GLENN: But I was there
TUCKER: Or you weren't
NICOLA: I'm utterly lost now
TUCKER: It's perfectly fucking simple. Glenn here is going to establish whether or not there was a party that he did or didn't attend
GLENN: Which I did
TUCKER: Or didn't
GLENN: But I did
TUCKER: Or did you
GLENN: Well I don't know now
TUCKER: Exactly
OLLIE: What do I do?
TUCKER: Do what you do best. Stand there looking fucking lost and occasionally text the girlfriend you wish you still had. Try to avoid being filmed again, on camera, mentioning a christmas party you went to that didn't happen. You think you can manage that?
NICOLA: Morning all! Ollie, why do you look like a sad puppy?
OLLIE: The Christmas party.
NICOLA: The 'business meeting'?
OLLIE: Um yeah. There's... video.
NICOLA: Shit. Does Malcolm know?
TERRI: It's in the papers.
NICOLA: SHIT
TUCKER <entering>: Ho FUCKING Ho everyone! /1
TUCKER: How are we today? Feeling festive? In the spirit?
NICOLA: Can we skip this bit please Malcolm?
TUCKER: Me? I'm great. I love this time of year, aye. Fucking infinite Wham fan me.
NICOLA: Malcolm I really am busy.
TUCKER: Oh aye? Lot's of meetings with Secret Santas?
NICOLA: It was a business meeting, Malcolm
TUCKER: Oh sure. Fucking business meeting
OLLIE: It's true. You can check in Outlook
GLENN: I said it was a bad idea
OLLIE: Oh fuck off Glenn
TUCKER: Business meeting. So if I ask Terri if there were minutes, she'll say yes?
TERRI: Um...
Kwasi Kwarteng glanced at Twitter. All across his timeline was that video. The one about the Christmas Party.
His phone went. Facebook video. He flicked it on.
It was Boris. He wasn't wearing any trousers. /1
"Chris!" BJ bumbled, flopping around in the wind. "How you bloody doing old chap."
"Feeling great, boss." Kwasi smiled. He'd long ago given up trying to get the Prime Minister to learn his actual name. Hell, maybe he WAS called Chris. Could the Prime Minister be wrong? No. Never
"Need you to do TV in the morning." Boris said, scratched himself and pausing to take in the odor.
"Anyway. Yes. TV. The morning. About the party. Didn't happen."
Out of the corner of his eye, Kwasi could see the video playing on his laptop. On it, Allegra Stratton was laughing