You all right? What are you looking for?
Hand? Blow? Anal? Toe?
Hi, Mum. Oh, hello, love!
What are you doing here?
You changed the Wi-Fi password again. Oh, we did.
Oi! You're not getting paid to chat shit...
Hello, son! Oh, yep.
Tim, what did we change the Wi-Fi password to?
Wasn't it, "Get in the van, you slag"?
But the "you" is a letter U, all lower case.
Well, isn't this sort of undercover thing for, like, lower ranks?
You've got to keep your hand in, son.
He's always got his hand in. Gross.
Oi!
If you're here to spray a cock and balls on the sign, you can piss off.
Er, trainee! Early bird catches the worm.
Don't you call me a worm, or I'll put a hex on your vagina.
I wasn't. Is that even a thing?
As it happens, I'm in rather a good mood,
so I'm gonna let that one slide.
I, erm... I was at an all-night party.
I haven't actually been home. Oh, right.
Just nipping in for a quick refresh of the old pits and bits.
It's 40 winks on the crash mat and at my desk by nine,
and I said "winks", before you start visualising
all sorts of nonsense, you weirdo.
Are you drunk? How dare you?
I have inexpensive implants that render me somewhat lopsided.
Oh, no! Your shoe fell. Thank you.
Want a hand?
It's a throbbing bollock of a situation.
I can't make it any clearer than that.
Could you try? Jesus.
Surveillance think we have a prune in the nest.
It's not difficult, Bob. Intel from the CIC is limited.
Sorry, CIC? Cocks In Charge.
No details. We just know that he or she is connected to an OCG.
Organised Crime Group. Yes.
And the NCA aren't happy.
It's the National Crime Agency. I know, wanker.
They suspect the plan is to get this fucker trained,
and then a year or two later, get them into an AC unit.
Air Conditioning. What?
AC unit. Anti-Corruption.
It's also that, yes,
but I dare say he or she may at some point
have to squeeze themselves into a ventilation shaft or some such.
HE CLICKS TONGUE, BLOWS RASPBERRY
Yes.
Has anyone got a pen? Steph? Oh, Afia, have you got a pen?
SHE SCOFFS OK. Gotta bagsy my chair.
Oh, yeah. I'm, er, putting my name down for Cheese Club.
Cheese Club? Yeah, I love cheese.
It says Chess Club, Paul. Oh, shit.
I don't know how to play chess.
Hi, Geeta. Hotel India.
SHE GASPS Hotel India.
Bravo Uniform November? Bravo Uniform November!
Yankee Uniform Mike! Mike, Mike.
Let him go, Steph. Let him go. Paul? Hotel India?
You what? Hotel India.
Maybe. I mean, I've only ever been Spain before.
I'll think about it, yeah?
And how's the new battalion shaping up? Early days, Chief.
Like, primordial soup kind of early. Ooh, soup.
Yes, the danger with quotas to fill, I suppose.
You open the floodgates and get absolutely drenched in arseholes.
And we're not looking for arseholes. Quite the opposite.
What? Front holes? Ah, just the person!
If anyone can tell us about clamping down on arseholes, it's Melanie. Ah!
They taste a bit like chicken, apparently. Ooh, chicken.
Yes, well, ears to the ground, everyone.
But anything you need, I'm here for you.
I don't believe in leading from the rear, you know that.
I lead from the front, on the streets, in the trenches.
Wherever I'm needed, that's where I'll be...
PHONE PINGS AND VIBRATES Oh, excuse me.
Erm... Well, I've been sacked. Sacked?
You go to one leaving do as Stephen Hawking!
Well, that just doesn't make sense.
Stephen Hawking's an incredibly brainy astronaut.
HE SCREAMS
Bastards! Ooh!
Apologies. Mm.
Apologies.
Tren... Do we have trenches?
Bob, a very large vacancy has just opened up.
Or maybe he meant truncheons. Cunningham gone, eh?
SHE CHUCKLES
Well, that's really put some lead in my nipples. Hm!
MUTTERING: Trenches...
THEY GIGGLE
I mean, why'd they put all the sexy ones in that group?
They didn't, it's just random. Doesn't look random to me.
Why's Steph in this group, then? Yes, exactly. Thank you, Paul.
Well, it's cos she's almost sexy, but not quite.
And you're sexy... over my dead body?
I heard, yeah, they're all having sex with each other already.
Are they? Why aren't we all having sex?
Maybe we just don't have them sexual vibes, you know.
Maybe we're the sexless ones. Or the married ones?
I'm sexy. Yeah.
But you have to let other people say it, Dev,
cos you don't want to come across like Steph.
I never said I was sexy. Pretty much.
OK! I'm a massive, ugly goblin.
LEGGO AND DEV SIGH
Oh, now look what you've done.
That's my chair!
Did you bring it from home? It's MY chair.
I have to sit there. Is it a magic chair?
Like, do you use it to suck up police procedures
through your bum hole?
All right, settle. SHE CLEARS THROAT
What does that word make you think of?
Winnie The Pooh?
And that is an example of a trigger, a button pusher.
Whether you know it or not, you will have a button.
Might be your restricted height, er, your jug ears,
colour, gender, your tiny teeth.
You'll be screamed at, spat at,
pissed on, jizzed on, and puked over,
all for who you are and the uniform you so proudly wear.
Yeah, I get called too pretty a lot, which is quite annoying.
Oh, my family used to call me runty. My mother wanted to drown me.
So, get to know your buttons, people. Push them yourselves.
Poke them. Probe them, even!
Again and again and again,
until they are worn down to a nubbin.
Because if you let others push that button for you, all is lost.
You will be tempted to overreact, trust me.
You will really, really, really, really want to kill.
You OK, Paul? Yeah, sorry.
I didn't hear anything after "nubbin".
I've had all sorts thrown at me. I like the pink, round coconut ones.
All sorts of insults.
Many of which have been both very hurtful and very accurate.
"Massive bitch" was fair, certainly.
But I did draw the line recently at "withered hag",
especially as I'd been declared barren that very morning.
Did you just write down "withered hag"?
You don't have to write down every single thing I say.
Stop writing.
Put the titting pen down and listen.
Put...
down...
...the...
...pen!
No!
Wait, isn't it baroness rather than baron for a lady?
I was declared barren. Infertile.
Ah, gotcha. Condolences.
I'm not dead. Right, that is it!
Nobody is to lend this student any form of writing apparatus
for the rest of the day.
Is that clear?
ALL: Yes. STEPH: Yes, Ma'am.
OK.
Go and take a piss break if you must.
And by that, I am referring to the canteen coffee, obviously.
SHE CHUCKLES
AFIA SIGHS
IDLE CHATTER
Room for a petite one? Ah, look, it's staff only, yeah?
Hello. Are you a bit lost, are you, love?
Love? Student Officer Jackson, you mean?
Student officer (!) Shmudent shmofficer.
Look, Steph. The staff, we sit together.
The students also sit together, but at different tables, yeah?
So, sort of like an apartheid system? Yes.
No, Daz, not like an apartheid system at all.
Well, a little bit.
How come he gets to call you Steph, then? Oh, I'm so sorry.
Erm... We're a thing. We're not. We're not a thing.
Well, how would you describe it? As not a thing.
Hang on. You two have done it.
Well, that's an understatement, because, yes, we have.
You got your bird to join up? No.
Yeah, pretty much.
He did the big, hard sell on the police, the little scamp.
IMITATING: Little scamp. HE LAUGHS
Fuck me. Fair play, mate. You got it on tap now, 24-7.
Any time you need a slippery one, wham, bam, nice one.
Oh, Jesus, Daz, there's ladies present, yeah? Yes-ah!
Although he's got a point. Bye. Bye, Mike.
Hi, Steph.
Yeah, just some chips, please. Chips, eh?
Don't get much call for special orders.
You want that sort of thing, you have to come round to the back.
Karen, you take over.
I mean, I don't... I don't have to have chips.
It's me, you fool! Aunty Nooch.
Aunty Nooch? Oh, I didn't recognise you with the tabard.
I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?
It's great you got a job. I mean, you've only been out a month...
Oh, right. Yeah.
Cousins thought if they were gonna have someone on the inside,
they should have someone else on the inside
to keep an eye on the first person on the inside.
But all they said to me was,
"Get bedded in, instructions would follow."
First of all, there ain't no beds.
Second of all, I can't find any instructions.
This is your instructions. You've got to get a flash drive.
Oh. All right, well, I think Ryman's does them, so... Wait!
It's in Superintendent Spry's office. Oh.
With a green luggage label. Big Cheese needs it.
Big cheese? Oh, I didn't know cheese would be involved.
That's brilliant.
How d'you think you got through the vetting?
I don't know... what vetting is.
Christ. Just go and find it.
I heard what you said...
...about chips... back here.
Oh.
Chips.
Yeah. Yeah, chips.
Yeah, chips.
KNOCK ON DOOR Mmm.
Here we are, Sir.
Timetable and notes for this morning's session,
freshly highlighted by me.
Ah, de-escalation. AS A ROBOT: De-escalate.
De-escalate.
Oh, it's very, very sad, isn't it, about the, erm,
about the Chief Super?
But I do wonder what that might mean for you, Sir.
Ah, yes. It means I should probably send a card.
"Sorry you got the sack." Sir,
hypothetically, if someone were to do all the work
so you didn't have to worry and entered you for...
Entered me?
...for, say, Britain's Got Talent, you would do it, wouldn't you?
Britain's Got Talent?
HE STUTTERS What? We're doing what?
Oh, I don't know. You're very, very, very skilled.
HE STUTTERS Britain's Got Talent.
I could see that happening,
in which case, I would graciously accept.
And... Oh, no, look, the three dots has come up again.
Oh, let me get that for you, Sir Bob.
HE GROANS
Ah, yeah, yeah, it's gone. It's gone. Mmm.
Paul, Paul! Can I have my pen back?
Pen? What did it look like? Pen-like.
The one I gave you this morning at the notice board.
Oh, well, the superintendent said we wasn't to give you a pen.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. She said no-one was allowed to lend me a pen.
And you're not. You're giving me back a pen I'd already lent to you.
Well, I think I lent it to Spencer.
Sorry (?) You lent a pen you borrowed to someone else?
Well, no, I... I gave it to him, really.
Wasn't planning on asking for it back.
Oh, my God, which one's Spencer? Thor.
Thor? Looks a bit like Thor, son of Odin.
He's part of the sexy group.
You know how some people are so good-looking,
you sort of feel bad asking them to give you a pen back.
No. No, I don't. Hang on, wait a minute.
I think Spencer gave it to Steph,
probably when she was asking him if she could join the sexy group.
Steph. Right. All right, in a bit.
BOB EXHALES
Ah, Bob. Mm?
I am throwing my hat into the ring.
What, your actual hat or your "metabolical" hat?
Am I wearing a hat?
No, but you... you could have one in your bag.
Am I carrying a bag? No, but you...
you could have a bag with a hat in it in your locker.
I don't. Well, keep it under your imaginary hat.
Could be nothing.
I think I might be appearing in Britain's Got Talent.
WHISPERS: Fuck's sake.
Ah, Melanie! I would like to be a contender.
Well, you won't win. I will win.
Win what? What are you talking about?
Cunningham's position.
CV. Application form. Right, right, right.
Can it wait until I've done the same for Bob Superintendent Weekes?
Another worthy applicant. Oh, you're shitting me.
Bob The Bellend?
He's never shown the slightest interest
in any big job before, for fuck's sake.
He wouldn't be doing this just to get on my tits, would he?
Has he any interest in your tits, Ma'am?
Well, I wouldn't have thought so, no.
Well, that's a huge relief... SHE WHISPERS: ..for some of us.
What is that hippy shit? That's my twat catcher.
Your twat catcher?
If the little feathers flutter or the little bells tinkle,
it means there's a wrong 'un nearby.
Well, we catch twats with modern detective methodology,
Melanie, not with new age mumbo jumbo.
It's my gut instinct in feather and willow hoop form.
It's cultural appropriation. Grow up.
BELLS CHIME
It works!
Well, I tried.
HE SIGHS
Er...
Are you wanking? What? No.
Then what are you doing, then?
HE STUTTERS Well, yeah, no, I was wanking.
You can't just go around rubbing your cock
and blasting one off on police property.
What, are you trying to fuck that filing cabinet or what,
you weird fuck?
I've just been really stressed at work and all that.
Oh, yeah, that old story!
I've just been really stressed,
and I had to find a filing cabinet and jizz everywhere.
Get out! Yes, Sir.
Ah! I'm sorry.
Yeah, urgh! HE BLOWS RASPBERRY
HE SNORTS Bloody perv.
Steph. Pen? My pen?
Right, here's a lovely long word for you. De-escalation.
How might we go about that? Huggins, any ideas?
De-escalation. Could use a tablet.
Beg your pardon? Or, like, a sachet?
Because we've got, like, a coffee machine and there's...
there's a sachet, and you put the sachet...
No, no, what you've got there is descaling. Oh.
It's not quite the same thing.
There's not much call for descaling in everyday police work. No.
Can anybody help Huggins there with a definition of de-escalation?
Erm, is it when you use...
IN A CARIBBEAN ACCENT: ...the escalators?
Racist. What? It's just an accent.
Mocking a historically oppressed race.
Which wasn't what I was doing. Doesn't matter.
It's how it's perceived that counts.
Well, he said "de-escalation" first. You wrote it on a board!
I didn't mean it racistly. Well, welcome to my world.
Try telling her that. Do you want to get thrown out?
Erm... yes. Yeah.
Well, nice try. HE CHUCKLES
Come on, everyone.
Look at this. What's this word here? Triggers.
Can somebody say something that they think might trigger me?
Anything you like. I've been in the force 38 years.
Anything you like. Give it both barrels.
Come on, try and upset me. You've underachieved.
Not, not that. Why not that?
Cos I say so. No, but it's true, though.
Tell me I'm fat. You're a fat underachiever.
No, just the fat. You don't get to pick
which insults you get on the street, do you?
No, cos on the street, people aren't gonna know...
THINK that I have underachieved, because I haven't,
so that's quite... IMITATING PHONE: Brrp-brrp.
So sorry, it's a text now. What's... It's not, that's an orange.
Oh, so much, so, so many...
Oh, I knew it. I've got to be somewhere pretty urgently,
so hard being important and in charge of things and...
Come, get your skates on, will you, Bob? Oh, gosh.
Right, now...
That was a good lesson. Yeah.
Steph, can I have my pen back?
What pen?
She's got my pen, my favourite pen, and she won't give it back!
Who has a favourite pen? What are you, eight?
So, why won't you give her her pen back?
Did you lick it? Or put it somewhere gross?
No, I haven't got her stupid pen. She borrowed it from Thor,
who got it from Paul, who borrowed it from me.
But she says she hasn't got it.
Why are you believing her? I don't know.
She just looks more honest than you. SHE SCOFFS
It's not a race thing. I-I just fancy her more.
How can you fancy a pen thief? Pen thief?
Yeah, what is the mark-up on them bad boys? Is it, like, 30%?
And do you cut it and shut it or do you, like, strip it for parts?
Not about the pen. It IS about the pen, because with no pen,
I have no notes, and with no notes, I won't know everything.
And if I don't know everything,
I won't get to be policewoman of the year,
and if I don't get to be policewoman of the year,
my dad will treat me like a girl
and won't let me borrow the big car like my brothers!
STEPH AND LEGGO: Wow. GEETA: Told you.
OK, what you need right now is a pen.
Here, have my pen. It's made of dreams.
SHE SCREAMS
HE GRUNTS
I heard a crunch.
Melanie, I think I've had a brilliant idea.
That doesn't surprise me, Sir.
You are an extraordinary human being.
Here goes. I am going to apply for Cunningham's job.
Oh! Well, my word, that is clever.
Well, I'm not one to underachieve, as you know,
so I may have to put Britain's Got Talent on hold
and enter the fray.
Obviously, I realise that Superintendent Spry
has also applied, but, er... we are very much equals,
so, it should be a good scrap.
Mm, and don't forget you'd have me on your side, Sir.
Good to have you in my corner.
What, actually? No, as in the boxing, you know.
You will be my second. Was there a first?
Yes, there was. Jennifer Hepburn.
I was 17, and she smelt of wet cardboard.
No, they'll throw her out for this, 100%.
No! Leggo, please?
PAUL: What's going on? This one bit this one.
Fucking hell, where? Over there, by the lockers.
No, which bit of him did she bite?
My fucking fanny finger. Oh, no, that's gross.
I'm actually on Afia's side now.
Anyone who has a fanny finger deserves to have it bitten off.
Right, Steph, you can have the pen. Keep it, it's OK.
Just PLEASE don't tell anyone.
I don't have your bloody pen. Don't start that again.
He's gonna snitch on me. You bit me.
Oh, don't be such a baby.
My kids bite each other all the time. There's no...
Oh. OK, yeah, you need to get that looked at. Not by you.
A shark with tiny teeth has savaged my second most important appendage.
And now Afia's bitten it as well. Oh, he's had no luck, has he?
THEY GRUNT Oi, you know what I like? Right?
Yeah? And that's in films, yeah?
Yeah. Where you think a guy has run out of bullets, but...
I'll tell you what Mike likes. OK, boundaries, yeah?
Trainer's area. Sorry, I just, erm...
I just need to talk to Mike about something, er, personal.
What is wrong with you? Have you got the mental health?
Above his bed,
he's got a picture of himself in just a thong and aviator shades.
I bet he has. OK. So...
What, what are you doing? Oh, sorry, am I oversharing?
Can you just stop it? Stop it. Stop... your mouth.
Well, can you just admit that we're a thing?
OK. OK.
We're a thing. No, no, no. So the caveman can hear.
All right, we're a thing.
Oh, my God, Mike, stop going on about it.
It's embarrassing. Wow.
You know, she reminds me of my dad's ferret, Tina.
Once she bit, she never let go.
We had to have her put down
while she was biting my dad's inner thigh.
Yeah, that's Steph.
Shame all the fit ones have the mental health.
HE GRUNTS
IDLE CHATTER
Fantastic. Pint for you, mate.
Oh-ho, legend! So, did they ask you what happened?
Well, yeah.
Now, obviously, I could have said it was a sex injury.
Who bites during sex? Not you, clearly.
What do you mean by that? Oh, watch out. It's Hannibal Lecter.
Hide your fingers. LEGGO CHUCKLES
Obviously, I'm really sorry and all that, but did you...?
Tell them about you? I did. And...
Really? Yeah.
It turns out I slipped and fell into a yawning Alsatian in the dog unit.
I don't believe it. Well, it's not true, is it?
You bit me.
No, I don't believe you did something nice. No offence.
Hi. Good news about your pen.
So, I spoke to Spencer,
and he said he gave it to Steve, not Steph.
See, I thought he said Steph. So, yeah. That's Steph off the hook.
And, hey, at least I can get my pen back.
Nah, Steve's went and flushed it down the toilet, the mug.
He was trying to unblock a monster.
Great news, Paul. Yeah, no worries, mate.
Oi, Steph, turns out you didn't take that pen after all.
Thank you for letting me know, Paul. Yeah, you're welcome.
For someone who doesn't want to be in the police,
covering up for your colleague seems very cop-like.
Yeah, must have cop juice in your blood.
You can be different from your family, you know. Yes!
Yes, you can!
VOICE BREAKING: You fucking can. AFIA: Mm.
You can. Anyone fancy going down to the gym?
Oh, sorry, Dev, mate, I've got Cheese Club.
Oh, wait. No, I haven't, have I?
No. Oh, I was looking forward to that.
Oh. Mm.
You wearing slippers?
Yes, Melanie encourages me to look after my arches, the kind girl.
Oh, I think you should know that I've applied for the top dog job.
You do know what Cunningham's job requires, right?
A lot of things, I imagine.
Being in charge, NOT dressing up as Stephen Hawking.
It... It's a position that calls for intelligence, leadership,
hard work and... intelligence.
Yes, I should coco.
Not a job for a terminally ineffectual yes-man.
Yes, well, if you say so.
Somebody who lacks even the basic knowledge
of the world around them.
Hang on. You're talking about me, aren't you?
Stay in your lane, Bob!
You don't stand a tiddler's chance of getting a job like this.
We shall see, and may the best superintendent win. Ha-ha!
That's a cupboard. I know!
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I know.