THE END

Ian, Geoff here. It’s in the bag, when you land get your arse over to Heathrow, we’re flying all the way to Grand Cayman and there’s a big pot of gold at the other end with the words “Dollars, Truffles, Fanny” written on the side in great big gold fucking letters. We might even have time to get ourselves barred from the business class lounge again before our flight if you hurry. See you soon mate.

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

From: Iain Shaft (iain@shaftfutures.ky)
To: Geoff Hunt (geoffhunt56@aol.com)

Geoff! Great news, we were getting ready to sell your shares off to the Chinese. So glad I don’t have to now, I know it’s old fashioned but I just don’t trust foreigners with money. Can’t wait to get down to business and start working with you, but more to the point I can’t wait to get involved in a bit of that famous banter. Dad used to tell me what you guys got up to after work when I was a kid, it was kind of his version of a bed time story. Such an inspiration, I wouldn’t be where I am today without it. Danny will pick you up from the airport, you’ll love him, cut from the same cloth as you guys. He just got back from doing a deal in Rio, apparently he went skinny dipping on Copacabana Beach at 4 in the morning, got arrested for taking a shit in a bin. Classic.

See you soon,

Iain

Iain Shaft
Shaft Futures

From: Geoff Hunt (geoffhunt56@gmail.com)
To: Iain Shaft (iain@shaftfutures.ky)

Iain, Geoff here. I haven’t got time to fill you in on the details, but me and Swanton need to take up those directorships rather sooner than we had previously planned. It seems the UK is no longer open for business for Geoff and Ian. If we fly over tonight can you start setting things up? And while you’re at it, put a few bottles of Perrier-Jouet on ice and tell your team to take the day off tomorrow, the Shaft boys are having a reunion!

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Ian, Geoff here. I do remember him, Marko I think his name was, looks a bit like a giant plastic mannequin of Ross Kemp that’s melted? That night was both the first and last time I ever saw a man drink 24 cans of Red Bull and then punch himself in the head hard enough to put himself in a coma for three weeks. Top lad. I’ve just spoken to John Holt, apparently the rozzers found a collection of smut on Cleese’s computer that would make Gary Glitter blush. I’m not sure the Lunsbury is safe, apparently that Polish girl on reception got arrested this morning, you know the one you knocked up? She was there that day when I snorted a shot of Bailey’s and started giving out Andy Coulson’s mobile number at the bar, I think they might be trying to put something else together to pin on me. I’m going to get in touch with your namesake and see if I can sort out an exit strategy, I’ll be in touch. Oh, and it sounds like MDMA you bought. Enjoy your flight.

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Geoff, Ian here. I’m in Spain, some turdpan of a town called Algeciras. I’ve just bought some chuff off a couple of kids, doesn’t look right, it’s kind of pink, more like crystals than a powder, burns your nozzers to fuck. Anyway it must be something because I feel fucking off-colour mate, if I don’t find a toilet in the next 10 minutes my arse is going to explode out of my trousers. Mind you, I bet my ring won’t chafe as much as yours must be right now after a month being Ian Huntley’s shower bitch. As regards the ‘how come I’m not dead’ piece, basically your friends in high places sent some east European knucklefist to finish me off, but I gave him some coke and got chatting, turns out he’s a mate of Saif Gaddafi, apparently you got the two of them completely winehoused in Mahiki one night when you were teaching at LSE? Anyway I’ve been living in Tripoli with the Colonel, bloody top banter mate, although he does go a bit weird when he’s had a drink. They put on a leaving party for me on Sunday night and he drank half a bottle of raki straight, then he made the band stop playing, pinned me down, held the microphone to his backside and farted on my balls. It was like George Osborne’s wedding all over again. Anyway I’ve got to go, I’m driving to Gibraltar, Phil’s lending me his Learjet so I can fly back to Biggin Hill. Probably best we meet somewhere discreet - Lunsbury at 5?

Sent from my Sent from my Sent from my >>>>>>>>>>>>>

From: Derek Montoya (d_100711@gmail.com)
To: Renegade Spear (r_100711@gmail.com)
CC: Artful Dodger (c_1000711@gmail.com); Rapunzel (b_100711); Green Mist (g_100711@gmail.com); White Velvet (w_100711); Alpha (a_100711)
Tue, 1 August 2011 @ 11.58 BST

Hi all,

The shit has hit the fan so hard it’s come out the other side like brown piss. Swanton has popped up in Morocco and Hunt has been released, they’ve got some dirt on Jabba. Cleese has been dealt with, but this is now a code black, we’re shutting the whole thing down, make sure you delete everything. Steve at Google will make these accounts disappear, don’t try and use them again. Full deniability on this, none of this ever happened. When the shit starts getting in your hair, you know you’ve put your head too far into the bowl.

DM

Ian, Geoff here. What the fuck happened to you, I thought they’d put a couple of bullets in the back of your fat pink head and dumped you at the bottom of the Med? That greasy fuck butler Cleese has got something to do with this, I saw him being dragged out of a van in bracelets this morning as I was leaving, he was shouting something about James Murdoch and buttplugs. I think they might have stitched him up as well. Anyway, good work on the Ken photo, they’ve dropped all the charges against me, although I hope you cropped my bell end out of that photo before you sent it to John. Are you coming back to London? We need to get together over a few brandies, a couple of cigars and the Telegraph business section and work out where we go from here.

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Geoff, Ian here. I’m in Tangier, just bought a new BlackBerry off some bloke with a monkey on a string at the market. I’m not sure what I found more disgusting, him or the monkey. I’m not sure if it’s fully genuine either, it keeps translating everything into Arabic and turning itself off. Anyway, I’m up to speed on everything that’s been going on, but I’ve been a bit... out of the loop, as it were. I’ve just sent Big John at the Mail that picture you sent me of Ken Clarke, so you should be out of Bumrape Alcatraz in no time, drop me an email when you’ve got your BlackBerry back.

Sent from my BleckBarry Wiresless Handyheld

From: Jorge Da Costa (j.dacosta@google.com)

To: Paul Cleese (paul.cleeseuk@gmail.com)

Wed 27 July 2011 @ 11.00 BST

Dear Mr Cleese,

Thank you for your enquiry. I would like to apologise for the time it has taken for you to receive a reply. As I'm sure you can appreciate, we have been very busy with the rollout of Google+ and associated queries from our first wave of users.

You are indeed right that we have a system in place to flag up certain users when rolling out new products, and having investigated your user history I can see that you are currently on a blacklist which prevents you from receiving invitations to take part in beta testing of projects such as Google+. This relates to a previous criminal investigation into yourself, in which we co-operated with UK law enforcement services and of which you have already been notified by both ourselves and the police. Due to the nature of the offence you were convicted of, you are excluded from the Google+ project on account of the potential threat you may pose to specific vulnerable demographic tranches of our user base.

I must also tell you that we have recently received a request from the police for your account information in relation to a high profile police investigation that you may have heard about in the media (Operation Weeting), and regretfully we believe that your account may have been illegally accessed by a third party as part of the alleged criminal activity which is currently being investigated. The police will be in touch with you shortly to provide you with more information on this matter.

I hope that I have been of some assistance with your enquiry, however I regret that we are currently unable to extend an invitation to you to join the Google+ project. If you have any further customer service queries, please do not hesitate to get in touch.

Kind regards,

Jorge Da Costa

Google UK Helpdesk

From: Paul Cleese (paul.cleeseuk@gmail.com)

To: 'ukhelpdesk@google.com'

Tue, 19 July 2011 @16.02 EDT

Dear Google,

I am writing regarding a matter which is of some concern to myself. As a quick glance through my user profile will attest, I have long been an impassioned supporter and evangelist of the Google vision. I was using Gmail when most people were still using Royal Mail, I beta tested Chrome, and I briefly ran an investment fund which took a risk on Android and lost millions when it first came out. I have consistently carried the torch for Google products in the corporate space, and indeed you may be aware that I was nominated for an award at last year's Central Europe Division Google Corporate Symposium for my work with the Schaft-Mannheim group, where my pioneering approach to cloud-centric B2B interfacing resulted in the group becoming the first financial institution to maintain a database exclusively stored on Google Docs, a system which delivered massive cost savings, prior to the company's share price collapse and subsequent liquidation following a series of data security breaches.

Anyway I digress, the reason I am bringing all this to your attention is that I am frankly appalled and insulted that I have not yet received an invitation to join Google+ in its initial rollout phase. I simply cannot believe that you do not have some kind of system wired in to the delivery of the project which allows you to flag key stakeholders such as myself, and ensure that they are included in the architecture of the first phase. If you want this venture to succeed, you cannot afford to exclude social media barometers such as Paul Cleese from the conversation. You, my friends, risk losing the very kudos that trended your brand in the first place.

Let me spell it out for you. My nephew has been invited to join Google+, and he requires the assistance of a carer just to type his own name. My mother, who only opened an email account for the first time last weekend so she could join eBay, has been invited to join Google+. I, Paul Cleese, founder of Cleese UK Consulting Ltd and former director of Nilsson Consulting Southwest, have not been invited to join Google +. In these times of transparency and full disclosure, can you please explain to me how in God's name you have allowed this to happen? And can you please send me an invite to Google+?

Best,

Paul Cleese

From: Renegade Spear (r_100711@gmail.com)

To: Derek Montoya (d_1000711@gmail.com)

Mon, 18 July 2011 @ 22.58 BST

Hi Derek

Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, been hella busy getting shit together for this thing tomorrow. Dad said I shouldn't be using email at the moment, but I don't really see what the problem is - not like anyone's gonna hack me is it!

In answer to your question vis-a-vis the leaks, maybe you're right, maybe it's the other bank guy. What was his name? Brian? We're a bit screwed now White Velvet's been knocked out the ballpark, you're gonna have to get hands-on and pull this one out of the bag. It's time to step up to the plate Derek, don't let me down. I'm screwed otherwise Derek. So fucking screwed.

James

From: Derek Montoya (d_100711@gmail.com)

To: Renegade Spear (r_100711@gmail.com)

Wed, 14 July 2011 @ 17.01 BST

Hi Boss

I know you've probably got enough shit on your plate, to the extent where you're probably having to ask the waiter to put the rest of the shit in a doggy bag to take home so you can fill your already fairly shitty fridge with it, but apparently another story's about to break, the Tube guy this time. We've done some digging around as per your request and we don't think it's that bint on Twitter, and White Velvet doesn't think it's coming from G. He says the job may not have been carried out properly at the other end, thinks that chubby paedo might have twatted things right up. You want me to lean on the PN a bit harder, get them to find out where the shit got wiped and how big the stain is?

DM

From: Paul Cleese (paul@cleeseuk.tc)

To: Derek Montoya (d_100711@gmail.com)

Tue, 12 July 2011 @ 15.51 EDT

Derek

I did everything you asked, G has been removed from the equation, no need to be getting the dicky willies. And seriously, Renegade Spear? Did he come up with that one himself? That's so 2.0.

One other thing, did you have any luck tracking down those photos? That was part of the deal too, right?

Best,

Paul

Paul Cleese

cleese uk : robust solutions as a core value

unit 6a, commercial house

cherokee road, providenciales

turks & caicos

t: (+001 649) 3667 9877

e: paul@cleeseuk.tc

From: Derek Montoya (d_100711@gmail.com)

To: Paul Cleese (paul@cleeseuk.tc)

Mon, 11 July 2011 @ 22.34 BST

Hi Paul

Renegade Spear satisfied so far. We have transferred 50 as agreed, the rest will be transferred when the matter is concluded. I should let you know that I'm hearing some worrying noises from our man inside. If you've ballsed this up you're going to find yourself so far up shit creek that you'll discover a part of the creek that has up until now never been discovered, where little indigenous shit people live little shitty lives in ancient shitty pyramids made out of huge, perpetually steaming piles of shit, untouched by thousands of years of human civilisation, in a rancid and barren shitty landscape all stinking of foul and rancid shit and piss. Will be in touch.

DM

6 July 2011 Last updated at 22.:54

Former Coulson aide arrested in murder probe

A 55 year old man who worked as an assistant to Andy Coulson, the former editor of the News Of The World, has been arrested in connection with the disappearance of a man in Monaco.

The man, named tonight as Geoffrey Hunt, was taken into police custody at Heathrow Airport in the early hours of Wednesday morning. It is believed that he was attempting to flee to the Cayman Islands.

In the latest twist to the phone hacking allegations engulfing News International, an unnamed police source revealed to the Guardian newspaper that Mr Hunt, a former investment banker at Shaft Capital, was believed to have leaked details of the allegations against the News Of The World while working as an assistant to Andy Coulson during his ill-fated stint as prime minister David Cameron's communications director.

Today's arrest is in connection with the disappearance of Ian Swinton, a former colleague of Mr Hunt at Shaft Capital, who went missing from his home in Monte Carlo in April. At that time Swinton was working as a consultant for the retail tycoon Philip Green, and it is alleged that he was still in regular contact with Hunt via email when Coulson resigned in January, which was shortly followed by Hunt's own resignation.

While details of Swinton's disappearance remain shrouded in mystery, police investigators in the principality are believed to have been treating the case as a murder investigation after a tip-off from another former Shaft employee, who has not been named. Police would not comment on the case this evening, other than to confirm that a man is being questioned in connection with an ongoing murder investigation.

Ian, Geoff here. It's gone beyond tits up over here, the tits have gone so far up they're about to reach a critical mass and start raining back down on us. Coulson's left the building with his balls in a cardboard box and the rest of the bloodhounds from Number Ten are sniffing round like a bunch of Japanese businessmen looking for a schoolgirl's soiled knickers. I don't know what's happened to you but I need you to break your radio silence and tell me what's happened to the money in the Caymans. John Holt's shitting bricks the size of Marble Arch and if anyone finds out I leaked the stuff about the phone hacking I'm finished here. Get in touch you fucking nonce.

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Hi Geoff,

Great news about the health reforms going through. Can you imagine, trusting someone like me with all that cash?! Ian said something about the Cayman nest egg hatching in a hurry though? My money will be safe, won't it? I only ask because I remember what happened in Macau, and Melissa's never really forgiven me for selling that wedding ring. Are we still on for squash next week?

J

John Holt M.D.
Manor Surgery
4, The Cinnamons
Brocklehampton Manor
TN3 7HH

Ian, Geoff here. There's a bit of a shit storm brewing over here which I need you to plug before the brown cloud bursts all over my head. Turns out some okra-chewing limp-wrist Guardian hack found out about my little conversation with the lad from Defence in the clubhouse on Sunday. I leaked a few more details on the whole Coulson phone hacking thing to buy us a bit of time before he spills the lentils, but we need to clear our dollars out of the Caymans otherwise he's going to follow the paper trail all the way up my chutney. Can you and Tina Turner find some way to make it disappear over there? If the worst comes to the worst just head over to the casino, knock back a few brandies and work your magic on that blackjack table. Remember that night in Macau when you stuffed all the chips down your arse crack while the croupier was wiping the vomit off his shoes? Like that, but try not to get deported this time.

By the way I spoke to your parents like you asked, they said they'd have to find your adoption certificate before they can fill out those forms. You did know you're adopted right?

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

Geoff, Ian here,
  Actually, I won't be back in any U.K. taxable regions for another week. Phil's set me up in Monaco with his wife Tina. Those U.K. Uncunts have made everything a bit more complex for him, and the tax-man is sniffing round Phil's privates more than Cameron did at the '09 Tory fund-raiser. Basically, he can't give any more taxable income to his wife, so he's legally adopting me as his son.

I'll be honest, I was a little worried at first, but it's all hand-jobs and Martinis over here. Tina's a right fucking laugh. The other day she vomited a day's worth of vodka onto her dinner, and then forced one of the little waiter chaps to eat it! Classic.

Attached are a few legal documents for Mum and Dad. If you could just get them to sign it and send them back. If Mum won't do it then just get her declared legally insane again.

Great news about Cleese. Schoolboy error. Primary schoolboy. Yup, send the pics over. Have you got any videos? Tina loves that shit.

Ian, Geoff here. Just heard you're back from Switzerland, cock in hand and ready to plug into the deficit reduction glory hole I hope? I can't believe it took you so long, that place was already being sucked down the shitter when I left and that was way back before the election! Anyway I'm glad my little chat with Phil convinced him that you're ready to win big over at Arcadia. I know retail is a bit of a step down for you, but then so was your wife after that French bird left you for your brother. I wouldn't worry your coke-smashed little brain too much though, Phil's got his thumb in a big slice of government pie now, and with my help you'll be able to force it a little deeper.

Coulson's doing my fucking nut in over here, he keeps rewriting my press releases because he says words like 'scum' and 'illegals' are 'no longer acceptable political currency in the modern ideas exchange'. I mean, what the fuck does that even mean? I'm not sure I'm really suited to this job, not at my age. Back when I was in PR at Shaft we pretty much sent the Guardian envelopes stuffed full of £50 notes that we'd wiped our arses on. Still, it's a means to an end I suppose. I'm playing a couple of rounds at the Lunsbury with one of Liam Fox's guys on Sunday, so our little joint venture should see a few contracts coming its way before too long. If there's one thing I can invest in and not feel guilty about, it's laser guidance systems. Every time I see one of those news reports with some street in Pakistan covered in blood, all I can think about is buying that yacht and mooring it off St Tropez, sitting out on the deck with a glass of Burgundy in one hand, copy of the FT in the other.

Anyway ding me when you're up and running, we'll have to have a large one at the Wharf to celebrate. Not to celebrate your return, to celebrate the fact that Cleese is back in prison. I'll text you the photos. Seven years old this time. SEVEN.

Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld