fuckitybye

[Yes, it's that time again, government officials and propaganda employees. By the way, Malcolm's briefings are eminently leakable. If, say, you were a disgruntled propaganda officeworker or a secret dissident somewhere in the Master's power structure ~~Judas~~.]

Well, my little shitbirds, we have a new and interesting problem to counter this morning. Seems that there's some rumours circulating in our fine armed forces, and we need to fucking stop them two days ago.

Now, I'm gonna tell you what the rumour is, but let's fucking underline the fact that this wad of fuck is exactly fucking that: a rumour. Some shitheels are claiming that the army won't be paid for the upcoming assault on the Barge, and what's more, that we've skimped on the body armour.

You know and I know that this is not fucking true, but the grunts on the ground will apparently believe that shit is chocolate. So we need two things. One: overt messaging in the general populace from print and social networking that that the government always fucking supports the troops, and so do the rest of the citizens of this fine world, yeah? And two: covert messaging to spread through the rumour mill. New body armour technology in research, forthcoming announcements of new weapons—what the fuck ever, just ensure that it's a. plausible and b. unprovable. You know the drill, lads and lasses, we've fucking done this a million times before.

Meanwhile, keep that Friends and Family campaign running like a fucking doped-up racehorse. In addition to the Doctor, add to the list ... [he glances down at Martha's surveillance bulletin] Morgan Adams, Findthee Swing, 11-12, and 47. Descriptions and additional information to follow.

Keep up the good work, kids. Tucker out.

ETA: [Special Delivery to the Master.]