Original subtitles

Where are we?

Seems to be a lion on a dining table.

I can see cutlery.

I've either died and come back as a suckling pig, or we're still at the

room.

What can you see?

Nothing.

I think I've gone blind.

Hell of a do.

What did we do?

I've no idea.

Everything after the loyal toast is just colours.

Movement? No.

The last thing I remember is my head

in the cold.

unforgiving lavatory bowl.

Dave, that wasn't the lavatory bowl.

It was the punch bowl.

Hark at Mr. Memory Man.

I'm bleeding.

No, you're not.

That's red lipstick.

wearing red lipstick?

Because maroon would have clashed with your eye shadow.

You should know better than to pass out unconscious when the boys from the

vice squad are around.

Last night, I think we made one.

Is it all gone?

Starting with a few beers, fine.

A few glasses of wine, lovely.

But the Yard of Advocate drinking race might just have been a bridge too far.

And our second mistake was letting Leather Liver Lawrence persuade us that

can't really mix a good dry martini without the addition of window lean.

our third, final crowning mistake.

Is that a punch bowl?

Dave,

while you're up there, get us the punch bowl.

I might as well resign.

Career's over.

Been very nice working with you, Bob.

You were up on the ceiling, hanging from the light fitting.

Not sure it was having a lie down in a cold buffet.

And I was dancing the lambada with the wife of the commissioner of the

Metropolitan Police.

Commissioner Boyle's wife.

How did I get up onto the ceiling?

The motorcycle display team formed a human pyramid, but that was not...

I did the lambada with the commissioner's wife.

I took her out to the cloakroom.

Bob!

I snubbed her!

I've got her telephone number.

999? That's her work number. Her home number's on the back.

Are you sure it was the Commissioner's wife?

Absolutely sure.

She was sat with him on the top table early on.

Red hair, yellow dress, looked a bit like Sandy Gore.

And that was Mrs Commissioner?

Oh.

Bob.

Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Always the same.

Every year, you're worse than pigs.

Yeah, pigs.

Exactly.

You ought about there catching criminals.

Criminals.

Hmm.

I don't know. Where's me watch?

Is this what you're looking for?

What have we here?

Peter Sebastian Anthony Swainsbrook. The Marquess of Tipperary.

Well, well, well.

All of human life is here this morning, isn't it?

One cat burglar, one flasher, and now a Marquess. Should I bow or curtsy?

Apprehended at the Green Channel at Heathrow. When challenged, he was seen

swallow something, sir.

Naughty boy.

It was a throat sweet.

So, what's the ammo?

Well, we've got to keep him here till the drug squad get here. Take a seat,

Uranus.

I've got a couple of guys coming up from West End Central.

Ooh,

detective inspectors, eh?

Only the best for his worship.

Apparently, they've had him under surveillance. They reckon he might be

some big American operation.

Officer, why don't you just call my father and save us all a lot of time and

embarrassment? This old man's got a bit of a pull, apparently. You'll probably

catch him having elevensies with the Home Secretary.

Get him out of here.

Shall I put him in a cell?

No. Better put him in one of the interview rooms. But don't let him out.

even for a royal wee.

You wouldn't want him flushing away the evidence.

Right. Let's go, Poppet.

Oh.

Oh.

Dive.

Turn the star enough, will you?

Caesar!

Come on, get on with it.

What's all the rush for?

Last night, before the lights went out, the super told us we'd got to be at

Paddington Green by nine.

We're only half an hour late.

Look, I'm in enough trouble to be here.

Yeah, you're right.

The super said it's something to do with the identification of a suspect.

It's all in that.

To the naughtiest detective in my husband's police force.

Kiss, kiss.

All my love and tonguey -tickles.

Marjorie. Underneath that. What's written underneath that?

P .S. Call me Friday. Misery Guts is at a conference.

Underneath that.

Tonguey -tickles.

Come on, what does it say?

Oh, brilliant.

Gordon Patrick Opkirk, age 40, also known as Flash Gordon.

Today and all days, a flasher. It gets worse.

He's also been known to call himself John F. Kennedy, Claudia Huddyford and

Dalai Lama.

17 convictions for indecent exposure, history of delusions, arrested for

flashing in Texas home base in Paddington.

Paddington? It was Paddington Bear.

If he was nicked in Paddington, why aren't the Paddington Club dealing with

Well, according to the computer, he fits the description of that bloke who

exposed himself in our local branch of the Iceland Freezer Centre two weeks

What is his description?

White, short, wrinkled.

If he does it in a freezer centre, what does he expect?

Oh, and he's got a noticeable operation scar above his right hip.

Now listen to me. What?

I dance with who I like, when I like.

And you can call me a maverick, but I didn't spend the entire evening crawling

up Superintendent Cottom's backside trying to improve my chances of

Okay?

Now see what they've got to say to that. This is Superintendent Cottom.

Tea? Two sugars.

My name is the Dalai Lama, and I don't take sugar in my tea.

When are you letting me out of this pigsty?

Sorry about the crockery. The Wedgwood's in the dishwasher.

Have you put the call through to my father?

It's been taken care of. Look, you do know who my father is, don't you? I

they have told you that he's a very close friend of the Home Secretary and

Commissioner Boyle. I don't care if he plays poker with the Pope.

Titles don't mean anything in here to us. You're just another con.

Oh, we'll see about that, you stupid little man.

Any sign of the two blokes from the drug squad?

They should be here any minute.

I wish it was me who was dealing with him. You don't think they'd let oiks

us loosen him, do you, eh?

Anyway, the commissioner's office had called.

Really? And they said we're not under any circumstances to talk to the press

about our blue -blooded guest.

No surprise there. One rule for them, one rule for the rest of us.

It must be them now.

Sorry we're a bit late.

Been having a drink with Commissioner Boyle.

And his wife.

That's very nice.

You'd better come in.

So, they make you dress up to interview a Marquess, do they?

Marquess? I ain't got one of them on the list. I suppose you want some tea sent

in? Yeah, and some Alka -Seltzer. Or some Ruka's aid.

Oh, you're going to flush it out of him, are you? And some water and three

aspirin. You'd better make that five.

And a Mars bar or a Twix for me?

How about liquid paraffin?

Does that help? Apparently.

Well, I'll give it a go.

Can't be any worse than Winderley.

So... Are you Gordon Patrick Upkirk of No Fixed Abode?

No. I'm the Marquess of Tipperary. Of course you are.

And he's Mungo Jerrold.

Five aspirins. Five aspirin. A Mars bar.

Mars bar.

A Twix. Twix. And ask them to try to get hold of some liquid paraffin.

Paraffin? Paraffin.

And some liquid paraffin.

Let's get this unpleasant business over as quickly as possible. My friend and I

are just a little bit tired.

I demand to talk to my father.

Just drop your trousers.

Just drop them. Let's see the evidence.

That you will not drop my trousers.

You've gone all coy all of a sudden, have we?

Come on, get them up. Without raging.

You know, as well as I do, you're not allowed to make any physical or internal

examination without a warrant order.

Interrogation Procedure, Section 4, Subsection 15.

We knew that.

Of course we did.

Smartass.

Not according to this description.

Why would you want me to drop my trousers anyway?

Tell him, Bob.

We know about the operation.

Operation?

What do you know about the operation?

It's all down here in black and white.

I have nothing to say.

So, what sort of shape is he in?

Well, the last time I spoke to him, he thought he was the Dalai Lama.

The Dalai Lama? That's what he said.

The stuff has reached the stomach. The container might have burst. He might be

hallucinating. Your Highness, your visitors have arrived.

Are you Peter Sebastian Swainsbrook, the Marcus of Tipperary?

Yes, yes, that's me, sir. The Marcus of Tipperary.

We've got to hang it here.

You've got balls.

With my record, sir, I would say that is beyond question.

Oh, you won't get your trousers off.

Let's talk about the time you exposed yourself in Texas. I went to Texas on

business, and you don't have a shred of evidence to prove otherwise.

Okay, what about the incident in Iceland?

Iceland?

Mum's gone to Iceland?

Except when Mum goes to Iceland with you around, she has more than a frozen out

of touch, if you can tell me.

I don't know what you're talking about.

What about the cold meats counted as bee jams?

Bee jams?

1984, possession of cannabis resin.

1986, possession with intent to supply.

1990, possession.

Active participant in campaign to legalise marijuana.

I suppose you think as long as it's soft and not hard, it doesn't matter, don't

you?

Something like that, sir.

You see, what I don't like is what possible pleasure you can get out of it.

It's very relaxing.

Oh, come, come. You're not going to tell me you've never tried it.

Too ridiculous.

How about you?

You look the type.

Not even once.

Not even at a party.

Well, there was... No, but... It's disgusting, that's what it is.

Oh, please, spare me the moral indignation.

You both know as well as I do it'll be legal in ten years' time.

Legal?

You are stark, raving mad.

Have you never been to Amsterdam?

Once, by mistake.

Well, you'll know that there are bars in Amsterdam where you can roll your own

in public, and it is perfectly legal.

Yes, well, there are lots of things you can do in bars in Amsterdam.

It is England, mate.

Land of toasted tea cakes and Harry Seacombe.

And you can't get away with that sort of thing here.

Especially not in B -jams.

Can we stop going on about B -jams?

OK. I think it's time we talked like grown -ups.

We all know the situation.

All we want is a few names.

Name, sir?

You cooperate with us.

Maybe we can do a deal.

Keep your name out of the papers.

Spare Daddy his blushes.

Get the commissioner off the hook.

But you want me to give you some names, sir. That's right.

You want the names of the people at the very top.

I can certainly do that for you, sir.

John.

John.

John Major, sir.

And Vera Lynn.

That's another good name.

Doesn't seem to be on the same planet.

There'll be love and laughter and peace ever after.

Superintendent Cotton, I'm here to see Detectives Briggs and Lilly.

Who? I sent them to talk to Flash Gordon. They did arrive, didn't they?

them, yeah.

Interrogation room one, down the corridor. Right.

And peace ever after.

Oh, sorry.

Wrong room.

You two.

Oh, hello, sir.

Don't you, oh, hello, sir, me.

Do you have any idea who I've just been speaking to on the phone?

No, sir. Commissioner Boyle. Oh, dear.

Having problems, are we?

Apparently, the commissioner's beloved wife, Marjorie, woke up this morning

a smile on her face.

Smiling and whispering the same name over and over again.

Bob, she kept saying.

Bob. Bob.

From what I hear, you're both as bad as each other. First of all, you lambarded

her down to the cloakroom, and then Louis here dropped down on her from a

chandelier.

It doesn't make the same sense.

Apparently, she compared you to Errol Flynn.

I know what these dues are like.

We all have one or two too many.

Even I overdid it on the punch.

You drank the punch, sir? Yes, Briggs, I did.

But I showed a modicum of restraint. I knew when to stop.

Stuff tasted disgusting anyway.

But I didn't start swinging from the light bulbs, taking advantage of a

-aged woman who's going through a very difficult time at the moment.

The commissioner was almost in tears.

Anything I can do to help.

Would you like me to put in a word?

You can shut up and all.

I'm here to see my son, Peter.

Oh, you must be the Duke of Connemara.

Is he all right?

Go and see for yourself.

Room two down the corridor.

I'll take you there myself, but I'm a bit busy today.

Sorry, Your Highness.

Okay.

Let's talk about the New York end of the operation.

New York, New York!

Stop!

It's home.

It's a beautiful city.

Problem. What?

It was. That was the Duke of Connemara. I saw him on some golf do the

Commissioner held.

So?

So, if that was the Duke of Connemara, how come he didn't...

So what's the Commissioner planning to do, sir?

He wants you both moved to the Dumfries Bovine Transferable Diseases Squad.

I don't suppose either of you have ever heard of bovine spongiform

encephalopathy.

Well, it's easy for you to find after.

I hear Dumfries is rather nice this time of year.

But only at this time of year.

Look, I have had enough of you, Flash Gordon. Just drop your bloody trousers!

What the hell is going on here?

Who are you?

I'm the Duke of Connemara.

I'm his father.

God, not another one. Father, get me out of this madhouse.

The Duke of Connemara, the Mark with the Tipperary, are all your family named

after pub.

What's your wife called? The Green Dragon.

My wife happens to be dead.

You're sure she's not just closed down for renovation?

No, it's not.

Must be the pension.

Lord, may I say what a great pleasure it is to meet you again.

Did I just see the Duke of Connemara?

You did.

And it did come, didn't it?

It did. Oh, that's Flash Gordon.

And that was a typical reason, yes.

You may not remember me, sir, but I did have the very great pleasure of meeting

you at one of the Commissioner's golf evenings.

Oh, yes.

And may I say, sir, what a wonderful evening it was. And what a marvellous

speech you made in honour of the Home Secretary.

Yes. Yes, thank you. So you're... A Cottom, sir.

Superintendent Cottom.

Are you in charge here, Cotton?

Well, after a fashion, sir.

Well, Superintendent, there's obviously been some sort of mistake concerning my

son.

This is your son?

Excuse me, there seems to be some sort of mix -up.

Hello, Louis.

Well, that's all we need.

Bill and Ben, the drug squad, men.

Been recognising without your make -up.

Hell of a do, wasn't it?

What are you two doing here?

We're here to interview the Marquess of Tipperary. I'm the Marquess of

Tipperary. No, you're not. You're Flash Gordon.

No, he's Flash Gordon.

No, sir, you got it wrong, sir.

I'm Sparky the Magic Piano. This is a farce. In that case, you won't mind if I

drop my trousers.

Chill, lads. You identified your man.

Listen, nicking one lousy flusher is not going to save the career of two men.

who spent the early hours of this morning playing hide -the -ferret with

Commissioner Boyle's wife.

The commissioner, you say?

Yeah, the commissioner.

Me and him are being transferred to Dumfries.

I wouldn't worry about Commissioner Boyle, lads.

Well, you wouldn't.

It's not you going to Dumfries to have your Niagara's frozen, is it?

It's within wheels.

But if they can scratch each other's backs, then so can we. Very interesting.

Yeah, give us a swig of this liquid tariff.

You're not thinking, are you, lads?

Come with me.

I'm sorry about all that, sir.

No, no, no, no. It's not your fault, Cotton.

But I do think it would be best all round if we sorted this whole thing out

between ourselves.

But your son is suspected of a very serious crime, sir.

Oh, come now.

Chief. Superintendent.

Superintendent, sir.

Oh, I'm sorry, sorry.

I was just thinking ahead.

And you see, I was just now talking to the Commissioner himself.

The poor chap is rather distraught about some domestic problem.

And if this thing got into the papers, well, it would only make matters worse.

You know, I mean, some of a close friend of the Commissioner's arrested.

It wouldn't look too good, would it?

No, Your Lordship, it wouldn't. No.

So...

Frank, the Commissioner asked me to tell you that he would be very grateful if

we could just let the matter drop, OK?

I don't really have the authority, sir.

Oh, you will have, Superintendent, if you see what I mean.

Yes, sir, I do.

Then we have an understanding.

I don't see why not.

Any go, lads.

Not so fast, Your Highness.

I beg your pardon? I think we both heard what your noble dukeship just said,

didn't we, Bob? We did, Dave.

Sounded to us like nepotism, didn't it, Bob?

And it sounds to us like you're using your family connections to get your

up.

Exactly. Now, lads, lads, just a minute.

Mr. Superintendent Collaborator Quizzling, you're in on this as well.

How would it sound if this story somehow leaked?

Nay.

Trickled inexplicably onto the pages of a tabloid newspaper.

Trickle, trickle, trickle. Wouldn't look good, would it, Tom? It would look not

good at all.

It would have a nasty smell.

It would smell of favouritism.

It would smell of...

It would smell of burnt toast.

Yeah, it would. Now, you must understand.

Understandeth I not the weft and warp of mendacity?

Liketh we not the idea of police corruption?

And don't forget, Your Highness, that all police interrogations are recorded,

courtesy of your friend, the Home Secretary.

Look here, Superintendent, can't you do something about these two?

Virtue and honesty hath not a price.

Nay, nor never shall we play the wild rover no more.

What are you talking about?

Watch it, mate.

I think so.

that you should give your friend the Commissioner a little tinkle, a little

matter of a transfer, hang over the heads of my two hard -working colleagues

here?

Well, he's at home today. I don't have his home phone number.

I have.

And I have.