I don’t normally post snippets of WiPs, but I wrote this in season 1 because I wanted, however impossible with the timeline, a Veep/The Thick of It crossover. Or at least Malcolm in some universe with Veep.
It’s been sitting on my Drive ever since and I want to finish it some day, but I don’t know if it’s going to happen.
“Doesn’t anyone else think it’s ironic that we are having a dinner to muster support for an obesity awareness campaign?”
The door swings open with the too familiar air of “devil-may-shit-on you” and Mike’s question to the room is promptly forgotten.“Who’s the PoTuS liaison that’s a sex machine to all the chicks?”
He answers himself in falsetto when no one else volunteers. “Jonah!”
From his desk Dan offers, “You see this cunt Jonah is an annoying mother-”
“You shut your mouth!” Because the only time Amy ever agrees with Dan is when it comes to Jonah.
“I’m just talkin’ ‘bout Jonah.” Dan hasn’t looked up from his iPad yet, but he’s going to see the whole thing through if it means not having to hear Jonah’s voice for a few more seconds.
“Then we can dig it.” Any’s also not looking up from her phone, but for her it’s knowing that, to Jonah, eye contact now means you want genital contact later.
Jonah makes a face.“Oh, ha ha, you guys—”
Mike doesn’t have time for this shit—even if he did afford himself a chuckle.
“Why are you here, Jonah? As much as I would like to have Sue schedule at least an hour of every working day dedicated to insulting you, we’re kind of busy here with the Obesity Awareness dinner tonight.”
“That’s why I’m here. PoTUS wants you to float around the idea of making this campaign a little more global.” He emphasizes by making a circle with his hands, like only White House staffers have a true sense of just how round a globe is.
“So, he entrusted me to call in a favor or two to try to muster some international support. Better call the caterer and tell them to expect a few more seats because I got you—and get ready for this—the UK Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship.”
Mike turns the color of his hair and just might rip out Jonah’s throat with a stapler.
“You did WHAT.” It’s not a question. Mike’s eyes might just bug out of his head and the commotion of him flailing around and hyperventilating is enough to make Selina poke her head out of the office. She looks around, first at Mike having a conniption and then at Jonah and makes the connection.
“Jesus Christ, Jonah! What did you do to him now? He looks more wound up than a kid on cocaine and Pixie Stix.”
Mike freezes mid-stride. “DoSaC.” He spits out the word like he’s accidentally frenched his own sister. ” Thanks to Hashtag Fuckface over there, Malcolm Tucker is coming to the dinner tonight.”
Selina’s hand claps over her mouth, but everyone in the office can hear her muffled cry. “SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.”
She marches up to Jonah and—to hell with Jonah’s foot and a half height advantage—grabs him by his tie to bring him down to her. “I am going to tear you in half with my TEETH, Jonah, and hang your carcass in the lobby to serve as a warning to all the other Jonahs that come after you.”
Selina reels around in a desperate attempt to get some control over the situation.
"Gary? Gary, I need you to go out to all the drugstores and get all the painkillers you can get. And if you run into some crack dealer on the way—a high priced one that sells it pure and uncut—I need you to get that, too, and I need you here with it all by 9, ok, Gary? Gary? Don’t look at me like that.”
“She’s joking about the crack, Gary. Stop clutching your heart like a Southern belle.” Amy rolls her eyes.
With Amy’s back turned, Selina shakes her head and mouths, “I’m not kidding about the crack.”
Amy pushes Gary out of the office. “Yes, she is, Gary. Just get her a bottle of Advil and some kind of relaxing tea or something.” She closes the door in his face, almost catching the strap of his bag.
Selina puts on her best unfuckable face as she summons Amy and Dan into her office. “Jesus Christ, Amy. I’m the Vice President of the goddamned United States of America and if I feel like taking up a drug habit for a day—in Washington, DC, even—I think I am entitled—”
“Ma’am, if this office has survived all the shitstorms of the past few months, I don’t think this one man is going to bring us down now. He has no real power here anyway—as long as we keep him out of our files and no one lets anything slip.” But Amy’s read the bio on this guy and she hasn’t stopped pacing since she remembered the time Mike regaled everyone with the tale of a disastrous state dinner they both attended in the 90s that ended with Mike sleeping at his desk for two weeks straight while his office fought to undo the mess and keep secrets out of the British press.
“Yeah, Amy, ok. You’ve never met the guy. I’m pretty sure JK Rowling modeled Voldemort after him. He’ll find something on us. He’ll get something out of someone. Probably Jonah. Shit.” She presses the intercom button. “Sue? You have one job today. Keep fucking Jonah away. I don’t care how you do it. Lock him out, pay someone to kidnap him, fuck him, kill him and dump his weighted body in the Potomac, I don’t care.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She probably doesn’t mean to say it with as much glee as she does and Seline doesn’t need the intercom to hear Jonah protesting loudly in the next room.
Selina ends the call and turns to Dan and Amy. “We are in deep shit. Deep. Haggis flavored. Shit.”
(to be continued. I Think.)