Original subtitles

It was that time of year again - Mr Teesside beauty pageant,

a competition based on beauty, talent and bulges.

Every town in the Tees Valley was eligible,

and every man and his dog wanted that cash prize - 20,000 big ones.

And the men of Teesside will do anything,

and I mean anything, to win that title.

Fuck's sake.

You wanted to see me?

You took your tiiiiime!

I couldn't remember where I put my favourite trilby.

Take a seat!

CAT SCREECHES

What's Mr Teesside?

Only the biggest...

SHE GASPS

..competition...in the Tees...Valley.

SHE CHUCKLES

Right. And what's that got to do with me?

THIS is my master plan, Bobby.

I've been working on this for a number of years,

and I've finally figured out the formula.

LAUGHTER ECHOES

Formula for what?

The formula to win...

..MR TEESSIDE!

SHE CACKLES

Right.

SHE MUMBLES

Dumb twink.

Let me introduce you to one of the finalists of Mr Teesside,

representing my beautiful home town of Stockton.

Looks like he's not going to make it to the competition!

NAN CACKLES

So that's where you come in, Bobby. But why me?

I'm not even from Teesside. I'm from South Shields.

Not any more!

Listen very closely...

Can I just stop you?

I'm sorry to interrupt, but is this all true?

What are you on about?

Well, it just feels a bit far-fetched, and overly stylised.

I'm, er, trying to create a bit of drama for you, babe.

I know you tabloid people love a bit of sensationalism.

Well, we're not really about that here at the Northeast Journal.

Our readers appreciate the truth.

So, what I'm more interested in is what happened at the competition

itself and, more importantly, the cheating scandal that occurred.

Well, in that case, I'll start at the very beginning.

It's a very good place to start, chick.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

I still couldn't believe that Stewart,

the human embodiment of a perverted rat,

had made it to the final of Mr Teesside.

I still can't believe that Stewart,

the human embodiment of a perverted rat, has made it to the final

of Mr Teesside. Oi! Stop being such a bitter old queen.

Just because you didn't get chosen.

Mam? Do you think we'll make it on time?

I got an email saying they'll deduct points if we're late.

I'm going as fast as I can, chick.

Oh, stay still, Stewart. This stubble's going everywhere!

I can't help it.

Why do I need stubble? Listen, hon.

I've been to Mr Teesside every year for a decade, so I know what

makes a winner, and as lovely as your smooth, baby-faced skin is,

I know for a fact that those horny judges love a bit of rough.

I've got all your outfits in that suitcase

so I'll come backstage and help you change.

Oh, thanks, Lucinda.

You really don't need to do all this for me.

I'm not going to lie, hon. I'm actually doing it for all of us.

If you win Mr Teesside, you'll be able to get us

into every VIP area in the Tees Valley.

Oh, you're joking, aren't you?!

What's the matter?

That frigging speed camera has just flashed at me!

I think it's the wrong one! AHHHH!

Fucking hell. I shit myself.

Are you OK, Sal?

I'm sorry, lads. I must have been dreaming.

'Ere, how are we getting on, Mam?

I told Mel I'd meet her half an hour ago.

We're supposed to be onstage now.

We're just round the corner, chick.

Eee, God. I'm proper shitting meself.

LUCINDA: You'll be amazing, hon.

I was profoundly grateful when we arrived at the venue,

as the stench of Stewart's desperation had contaminated

the air inside the ice-cream van.

Come on, you lot, in you go.

Isn't that Nan?

What's that haggard old wench doing here?!

I don't know, but she's looking proper shifty.

I think she's with the Mr Stockton finalist.

He looks familiar.

Why was Nan acting so suspicious?

Who was that bald, muscly twink?

I had to investigate, and I instantly knew who to call.

This was a job...

..for Detective Sexy.

I mean, you definitely weren't that quick getting into that costume.

Did I interrupt you?!

You haven't let anyone else talk!

Uh! Nya-nya-nya! Nurgh! I'm blind!

Sorry about this.

The smell of beer-saturated carpets

and excited menopausal women could mean only one thing -

Mr Teesside.

There was something really slippery about Mr Stockton

and I just had to find out who he was.

WOLF-WHISTLING

That's the only thing with calling on Detective Sexy.

No matter how hard she tries to stay undercover...

Now we're talking!

..the straight lads can't get enough.

Um, I don't remember that happening, actually, Dickie.

Yeah, well, I don't remember you happening, Stewart! What? What?

Look, I haven't got a lot of time.

Maybe I could just get a brief summary from someone else.

How about you?

I'll start at the very beginning.

It's a pretty good place to start, chick.

We were on the way to the Mr Teesside beauty pageant.

I could not believe I'd been picked to represent Boro.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that I'd submitted my audition video,

where I tap-danced to Meghan Trainor's All About That Bass

to Middlesbrough Council.

And now, here we were on the way to the final!

Mam? Do you think we're going to make it on time?

I got an email saying they'll deduct points if we're late.

I'm going as fast as I can, chick!

Oh, stay still, Stewart. This stubble's going everywhere!

Oh, you're joking, aren't you?!

I think it's the wrong one! AHHHH!

Come on, you lot, in you go.

It was magical inside.

People had gathered from all over the Tees Valley.

Some had even come all the way from Hartlepool.

You're late, Mr Middlesbrough.

There'll be a point deducted for that. Come with me.

This is your station.

We're starting soon, so get ready to go on.

The six contestants from the Tees Valley that had made it

to the final were getting ready backstage.

Just as I thought. What?

It's Nadia on the judging panel again.

She never misses a year.

She's the one you've got to impress, Stewart.

She has the most influence,

and she's the one who likes 'em rough and ready, and hairy.

Well, I've got my stubble on.

We're going to need more than stubble.

More?

I know for a fact she loves a hairy chest.

Get this on.

OK. Yes!

Here we go.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Not this tattooed tit. Oh, hi, guys.

Didn't realise you were in the final, Stewart. Congrats.

You too, Neil.

OK, well, er, better go to my station,

get ready for the first round.

Fuck's sake. I'm starting to find it a bit weird,

you bringing this costume everywhere you go, hon.

Listen, there's something unsavoury going on,

and I'm not talking about Stewart's aftershave.

What are you on about? That bald lad over there,

Mr Stockton.

He arrived with Nan, they were being all suspicious.

If he does anything out of the ordinary, let me know.

Mmm? Okey dokey, hon. Mmm?! OK.

CRASH!

AHHHH!

Oh.

You all right, chick?

What happened, Sal? Fell back off my chair, Stew.

You OK, hon?

Oh, aye.

Why don't you tell us what you remember about the competition?

All right, babe.

I suppose it's best that I start at the very beginning.

It's not such a bad place to start, chick.

So, which colour wire do I cut, like?

ON RADIO: Try the green one, babe!

There's isn't a green one.

ON RADIO: Hmm, I'd go yellow. What would you do, Stewart?

ON RADIO: Don't ask me, I'm colour-blind.

Ten seconds left. Lucinda, help me out.

ON RADIO: Cut the red, hon. Are you sure?

Never been more sure of anything.

ALARM BLARES I think it's the wrong one! AHHHH!

Fucking hell.

You OK, Sal? Listen.

I don't mean to be rude,

but I don't need to know what sodding dreams you've had.

Not even the sex dream involving Hillary Clinton and Keir Starmer?

Why don't I take over, hon? I've the memory of an elephant.

Go ahead.

I'll start at the very beginning.

It's a bountiful place to start, chick.

I think I've got a good idea of what...

I was buzzing when Stewart told me he made it through

to the final of Mr Teesside.

I felt like we had a real advantage, because I have been to every

single Mr Teesside that has ever been, so I knew how to win.

Stay still, Stewart, this stubble's going everywhere.

Sorry to interrupt, but I've already heard this detail

and I don't have a lot of time, so if you don't... Eee, sorry, hon.

I'll speed up. So, I was applying Stewart's stubble in the van,

then we arrived at Mr Teesside and then we got shown backstage and I

gave Stewart a hairy chest, then Neil came over, then Dickie showed

up and told us to keep an eye on Mr Stockton

because he was being suspicious.

BEEPING

Ooh! Fairy cakes are ready.

Ooh! Mmm.

Anyone fancy a fairy cake?

Ooh! Yes, please! I fucking love cake. For fuck's sake!

We were just about to finally get to the next part of the fucking story!

Sorry, chick.

Listen, why don't I take over from here?

Fine.

But please, just get to the point.

Ooh! Right. I'll start at the very beginning.

No! Stop starting at the fucking beginning, you morons!

Ooh! Someone doesn't want a fairy cake. Please...

Please. If you wouldn't mind just going from the point

of the competition starting.

Well, you see, I wanted to be a sexy detective as well.

Mam! What are you wearing?

Well, I wanted to be a sexy detective as well.

Eh, we could be a sexy detective duo, like Cagney and Lacey,

or Shakespeare and Hathaway.

Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to Mr Teesside!

ALL CHEER

Brought to you by Rock 'Ard energy products.

It's just glorious we can all gather here annually to celebrate

the talent, brains

and anatomies of our wonderful men from all across the Tees Valley.

So, without further ado,

please welcome to the stage your Mr Teesside finalists!

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

# Mr Teesside

# You're the future You're the pride

# Mr Teesside

# Now you stand here Side by side

# And the gift you leave behind

# Is the promise of tomorrow For our children... #

WHISPERS: For our children.

LET'S GET FUCKING WILD, LADIES!

CHEERING

Please make some noise for Mr Hartlepool!

CHEERING

Mr Darlington!

CHEERING

Mr Stockton!

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Mr Middlesbrough!

CHEERING

Boo! Hey!

Come on, ladies! Mr Redcar!

Meanwhile, backstage, I was lint-rolling Stewart's shorts,

ready for the short shorts round, which was coming up shortly,

when I suddenly remembered what Dickie said.

That bald lad over there,

Mr Stockton.

He arrived with Nan and they were being all suspicious.

If he does anything out of the ordinary, let me know.

Sorry, babes, I'm a bit confused.

Is this a flashback within a flashback?

Yes, hon. Keep up. Anyway...

I decided this was the perfect snooping opportunity to

rummage through the bald, muscly twink's bag.

Who wants some pole dancing?

First up, it's Mr Hartlepool.

MUSIC BLARES, CHEERING

Ooh!

Mr Middlesbrough!

ALL CHEER

Ugh! He used to be so flexible. I don't know what's happened to him.

Look what I found! It's Bobby!

I knew I recognised him! He's not from Stockton, is he?

He's not even from Teesside. He's from South fucking Shields!

Stewart!

We practised this! Get your legs above your head!

That pole dancing class was pointless!

He's stiff as a bloody board!

Who's ready for some short shorts?

I've got to go and wedge Stewart into his short shorts.

There was something massively afoot.

It was time for Detective Sexy and Inspector Voluptuous to investigate.

So ridiculous.

You what?

I just don't know why you chose that name.

What's wrong with it? Don't know, it's just a bit...

It's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?

Oh, yeah, cos Detective Sexy rolls right off the frigging tongue.

Anyway, I'd just about managed to squeeze Stewart's

curvaceous Kardashian arse cheeks into

the smallest shorts I could find.

And even though the shorts were short, the points were massive.

There is a clear winner in the short shorts round, ladies.

AUDIENCE: Ooh!

Mr Stockton!

FANFARE PLAYS, CHEERING

And as is tradition, I will also announce the longest shorts,

and therefore the pathetic shithead loser of this round.

And that person is...

..Mr Hartlepool.

BOOING

Long shorts wanker!

Oh! Will we have this for dinner tonight?

Oh, yeah.

Will we have beans with it as well? Oh, yeah.

So, it was the talent round next,

and I think this was the moment Nan was hoping to clinch a win

for Mr Stockton, because Bobby has one of the most beautiful voices.

Fucking hell, Stewart, why don't you just marry him?

I love you!

All right, ladies.

MUSIC STARTS

# When I am down

# And, oh My soul so weary

# When troubles come And my heart burdened be

# Then I am still

# And wait here in silence

# Until you come And stay awhile with me

# You raise me up

# So I can stand on mountains... #

OUT OF TUNE: # ..You raise me up... #

MICROPHONE FEEDBACK

# ..To, to all... #

BOOING, MUSIC STOPS

Bobby had blown it.

But Nan had other evil tricks up her sleeve.

She told Nadia that Shirley Ballas was on the phone to

compliment her judging skills.

And apparently, that Nadia is a total slut for compliments.

SHOES TAP, MUSIC STARTS

Oh, I'm going for a piss.

Eee, hang on. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

I am, babe.

I've tried telling him before he's dog-shite at tap dancing,

but for some reason he keeps doing it. No, look.

It's Nan disguised as one of the judges.

Oh, shit! Be right back.

Hiya, chick. Lads,

Nan's somehow managed to get onto the judging panel.

You're kidding me! So that was her plan all along.

She's trying to fix Mr Teesside so that Bobby wins,

and she can get all the prize money.

Oh, it's lovely, that.

MAM BELCHES

We had all the evidence we needed.

It was time for Detective Sexy

and Inspector Voluptuous to blow Mr Teesside wide open.

The talent round was over.

It was now or never.

Ladies, the judges have deliberated and we have a unanimous decision.

CHEERING

The winner...

..of Mr Teesside is...

STOP!

Stop the competition.

I hope you'll all excuse my intrusion,

but my name is Detective Sexy, and whilst you've all been enjoying

the show, I've been carrying out a very extensive investigation

into a crime, and the results may come as a shock to some of you.

THEY GASP

You see, not everything is as it seems.

Somebody on this stage is a fraud!

Fucking hell!

In my brassiere I have the driving licence of Mr Stockton.

Or should I say...

..Mr South Shields!

AUDIENCE GASPS

That's right.

Mr Stockton isn't even from Stockton.

He isn't even from the Tees Valley!

South Shields? What on earth?!

Let me call you by your real name...

..Bobby.

How did you know? I'm wearing a bald cap.

Hmm. But let's not be too harsh on Bobby, ladies,

because Bobby was merely a puppet and somebody else's pawn.

The real puppet master was operating under our very noses,

in plain sight.

Yeah, it's Nan. Yeah, she's right there.

Mam! I was about to do a whole dramatic thing!

You found me out.

Boo-hoo-hoo.

Clever little gay boys.

Well, let's see how clever you are...

..now! She's got a gun!

SHE CACKLES

SCREAMING

Give...me the 20 grand cash...

..or I'll blow your bastard balls off.

We haven't got the cash here. You what?

I mean, it's in the bank.

In the...

IN THE BANK!

SCREAMING

What's it doing in the bank?!

What's the matter with yous?

You never seen a gun go off before? You bunch of woke lib-tards.

That didn't happen, did it?

Actually, it did.

Yeah.

She got arrested and everything.

I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those pesky gays.

You'll regret this.

YOU'LL ALL REGRET THIS!

Watch your head, son. Oh, cheers, mate.

Thanks very much. Really appreciate it.

PHONE RINGTONE

Dickie, is that...

RINGTONE CONTINUES

Yeah, hon. I think it is.

Your gig phone!

Gig phone? What's a gig phone?

His burner phone.

Whenever Dickie gets booked for a drag show,

it comes straight through to that line.

I forgot you had it, to be honest, chick.

Well, answer it!

Hello?

Yeah.

OK.

No, that's, um...

Yeah.

Thanks.

Thanks for letting me know.

OK. Bye.

Who was that, like? Guys...

..I've got a drag gig!

THEY CHEER

Woohoo! Had you good there! Had you good!

Oh, Dickie! Stop it! What a fucking topper!

Woo! Oh, yes! That's great!

Fucking hell.

So, when will it be published?

I just need to process...it.

So how did you leave it, then? With this Neil?

Well, I haven't actually told these guys yet, but...

Life's too short.

You what, Neil?

That's what I was thinking when we were about to be shot.

Life's too short.

OK, hon.

You've got to follow your dreams now, or it might be too late.

So, with that in mind...

What you doing?

Lucinda...

..would you do me the greatest honour...

..of being my wife?

PF-F-FFRT!

Well? What did you say?

# We are Teesside

# We're the future We're the pride

# We are Teesside

# Now we stand here side by side

# We are Teesside

# Now we hold our heads up high

# And the gift we leave behind

# Is the promise of tomorrow

# For our children. #