The following is a transcript of a secretly recorded conversation at Heathrow Airport cargo bay.
For the sake of brevity
M: is for Mitt
R: is for Rafalca.
M: How was the flight, how are you holding up?
R: Where's Ann?
M: I asked you a question, Raf.
R: I'm not deaf. I thought Ann was coming to meet me.
[Rafalca mutters something unintelligible]
R: How was the flight? Remember saying I could take the Falcon 2000 here?
[pointing at the plane - a Learjet]
Is that the fucking Falcon 2000, Mitt? How was the flight? The flight sucked. If I wanted to travel like a peasant I would have told Seamus to make room on the m-----------g roof. How was the flight? Go f--k yourself.
M: (laughs) I do not recall having said that.
R: Yeah. Uh-huh. Maybe you retroactively promised it. Right? Jesus Christ and the Saints. Where's my f-----g salt lick?
[Mitt pulls out a restaurant salt shaker. Rafalca stares at him]
R: Where. Is. Ann.
M: Raf, Ann is not coming! (laughs) She's very busy, so I am taking you to the hotel. Okay? Frankly I think you're being a little ungrateful. I am the one running for President, for Pete's sake. I'm taking time out of my campaign for this. (laughs)
R: Oh that's what you're calling it? And stop laughing. It's f-----g weird.
M: I... (laughs) what does that mean?
R: Gee I don't know Mitt, that when you laugh at things that no one else is laughing at, you look like a f-----g psychopath.
[Mitt fights it. Smiles instead]
M: I respectfully disagree. And I was asking, in fact, about your comment on my campaign. What else would I call it? In your opinion.
R: Well if you're gonna make it that easy...
M: Now wait a second...
R: What would I call it? I'd call it a s--tshow. But that's only because you pay my bills. If you didn't, I'd say that you run a campaign like a blind person playing hide and seek in a f-----g metal factory. That's what I'd say. Don't you laugh. Don't you dare f-----g laugh.
R: Well (smirks) how bout this. I bet you one billion dollars, that I become the next President of the United States.
M: Do you have one billion dollars to lose?
R: It's not mine, but yeah. Sure I do.
[This time they both laugh]
M: Come on now, you're tired and grumpy. Let's get you to town. I got you a suite!
R: Ooohhhhh. I love the suites! Does it have a cyclone shower?
M: One? It has twelve!
[They get into Mitt's cavalcade and drive off. They do not tip the airport staff]