[Unfortunately, Malcolm is now about to take out his bad mood on Howie.]

Look, you keep on about the fucking language and I'm gonna put George Carlin's Seven Words on my iPod on fucking repeat and weld the headphones to your ears and you can spend the rest of the day hearing shit, piss, cocksucker, cunt, motherfucker, tits, and fuck until your brain falls out, you got that? And yes, I work in Whitehall. I'm only the Prime Minister's fucking Director of Communications, aren't I?