"[On mobile phone] I'm not holding any longer. What's he waiting for, a fucking sex change? NO, YOU RELAX! Get me fuck…"

"[to Simon Foster] I will marshal all the media forces of darkness to hound you to an assisted suicide."

"Yeah, diarrhea of a nobody. Yeah, I like that."

"[to Simon Foster] In the words of the late great Nat King fucking Cole, unforeseeable, that's what you are."

"We've got enough Pentagon goons to stage a fucking coup d'etat."

""Climb the mountain of conflict"? You know what you sounded like? You sounded like a fucking Nazi Julie Andrews!"

"Christ on a bendy-bus, Simon, don't be such a fucking faff-arse."

"You sure you're working as hard as me? 'Cause I'm sweating spinal fluid here! I'm a fucking husk!"

"[to Simon Foster] You know, if I could, I'd fucking punch you into paralysis!"

"[On mobile phone] Okay, okay, go ahead and print "unforeseeable." Listen, see when I tell your wife about you and Ang…"