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Malcolm Tucker: (to Barwick) Linton! Linton!
Linton Barwick: (turns around) Mr. Tucker, isn't it? Nice to see you again. (handshake)
Malcolm Tucker: Are you ****ing me about?
Linton Barwick: (chuckles) Is there a problem, Mr. Tucker?
Malcolm Tucker: I've just come from a briefing with a nine year old child.
Linton Barwick: Oh, you're talking about A.J. He's one of our top guys. He's one of our brightest and best.
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, well his briefing notes were written in Alphabetti Spaghetti. When I left I nearly tripped over his ****ing umbilical cord.
Linton Barwick: Well I'm sorry that it troubles you that our people achieve excellence at such an early age. But can we just move on to what's really important? Now I understand that your Prime Minister has asked you to supply us with some, let's say "fresh", British Intelligence, is that true?
Malcolm Tucker: Yeah, apparently your ****ing master race of highly-gifted toddlers can't get the job done...
Linton Barwick: All right.
Malcolm Tucker: ...between breast feeds and playing with their Power Rangers, so an actual grown-up has been asked to ****ing bail you out.


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