Original subtitles

Good evening, everybody.

You know, sometimes police officers are called upon

to restrain activities of which they personally approve.

At such times,

stern duty must be our master.

Because above all, the police must obey orders.

Even if some orders, as we shall see,

are like the instructions for the timer

of an eight-day video recorder...

Extremely difficult to follow.

Well, I'm off then.

I said, I'm off then!

I said...

I'm off then.

Patricia, you are demeaning

the good name of Gasforth police force.

I don't give a donkey's doo-dah for the Gasforth police force.

You do give a donkey's doo-dah.

I don't give a donkey's doo-dah, and I'm going!

Patricia, I forbid you to go.

Please, Raymond, don't forbid me.

I'm a bit late and I just haven't got time

to roll around on the floor laughing till I'm physically sick.

- But you are a policewoman. - No, I'm not.

I'm an anarchist. For the next two weeks,

I am a crazy, wild-eyed child of the forest.

I am dedicating my life-

Your holiday.

My holiday to the traveling road protesters

known as the dongas.

And my name is not Patricia,

it's Squirrel.

- Squirrel Baggins. - Heavens and horlicks, Patricia.

Gasforth needs a bypass.

And you won't stop it by frolicking about in the woods

calling yourself Troll or Gonk

or Nutkin the sweet little tree-dwelling imp.

Well, I have to try!

We do not inherit the earth from our parents,

we borrow it from our children.

We don't have any children.

Yes, I'm aware of that.

But the fact that you are a one-bonk-a-year man

does not relieve me of my responsibility

to preserve the environment for future generations.

You've changed since you became a donker.

I feel I hardly know you...

Squirel.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall return to my newspaper.

Well done.

Carry on, carry on.

Now as I'm sure you're all aware,

the whole town is agog with talk of this new bypass.

From road rage to road protest,

anything to do with cars seems to provoke people's passions

in a quite extraordinary manner.

I'll find him, I swear I'll find him.

I've seen some criminal swine in my years as a copper,

I have witnessed some vile and horrendous deeds,

but this-this has left me sad and sickened.

Good heavens, Grim, what on earth happened?

Some maniac has dinged my car.

Not the Nissan micra with the go-faster kleenexes on the back shelf?

Yes, yes!

I think he scratched the paint.

I can't tell till I get a magnifying glass out and have a proper look.

But we were both pulling up at the lights,

and the vile, despicable criminal

scraped along my side.

Perhaps you were in his lane.

Perhaps you scraped him.

What did you say?

Well, I was just-

I am a superb driver.

- Where you changing lanes? - Yes, and I indicated.

Nonetheless, you were changing lanes while approaching a traffic light.

I have just told you I am a superb driver!

Did you get his number?

How could I? I was retuning the radio when it happened.

I'll tell you though,

if I hadn't had a cup of coffee in the other hand,

I'd have given chase.

Hey, here is a thought, sir.

There's security cameras all over town,

perhaps your dinger's been caught on video.

Well done, Boyle!

Requisition all tapes countywide.

This insane maniac must be stopped before he can scratch again.

So as I was saying,

roads and cars are areas where passions run deep.

And there can be no deeper passions

than amongst the environmentalists of the donga tribe.

Sergeant Dawkins has joined them for her holiday, hasn't she?

I think it's great.

Yes, me too.

I wonder if she's had her nipples pierced yet?

Be quiet, Goody!

It's not compulsory, is it?

- Oh no, no. - Okay.

It's just when they're cavorting naked in a haze of marijuana,

it gives them somewhere to hang their keys.

Yes, well...

nipples aside-

I mean, nip and-I nip-

I don't know what I mean, actually.

Where were we?

Preparing to police the destruction of the planet, sir.

Ah yes-really, constable!

I do tire of this leftist hectoring.

Have you read the police code of common purpose recently?

Of course, sir. Every day, can't put it down.

Then you'll be aware that it says that our job is to enforce the law,

not to enforce the law if we happen to think it's a nice one.

These environmentalists may have admirable intentions,

but being decent and fair and honest

doesn't necessarily make a person right, Habib.

If it did, Rolf Harris would be prime minister.

Now, in order to prepare ourselves for the tactics of these dongas,

I intend to employ a role-playing technique.

We will create a scenario and act out the parts.

Acting, how exciting!

Does that mean I can call you "darling"?

Only if you wish to spend the rest of your career

putting out traffic cones on the M25, laddie.

Now then, since you seem so eager to act, Goody,

we are going to role-play a protestor tied to a tree.

Goody, you take that part.

Thank you, sir. I am brilliant at acting.

What are you doing, Goody?

I'm doing what you told me, I'm being the tree.

I meant be the protestor.

Besides which, you don't look a bit like a tree.

I thought you said you could act.

You look like a plank.

Where's your willowy bendiness?

I want to be able to picture your gnarled old trunk.

I beg your pardon, sir!

I can do an impression of a plum tree, sir,

but it means taking my trousers off.

No, Gladstone.

No, Gladstone, thank you.

I will be the tree. I will be the tree.

Now, I've just got to get my focus,

and...

are you doing it now, sir?

- Yes, of course I'm doing it now, Habib. - You look like a moose.

Well, I feel like a tree.

- Well, it's very interesting, sir. - Thank you, Habib.

A talking tree, you don't get many of them.

Cleverness is unattractive in a police officer, Habib.

I've got an idea, sir.

Why don't you hold my apple?

My mom gives me one every day

but I never eat it because I prefer sweets.

Thank you. If you think it'll work.

How about stuffing my pot plant

in your jacket, sir?

Ah, good. Give you a bit of foliage.

Yes, perhaps. Thank you, Gladstone.

I was accrington brownies' origami champion, sir.

Look, a swallow!

Ah, good. Excellent, excellent.

There you go, tweet, tweet.

Role-playing is the key to modern training and props are important.

So, I am now a totally convincing tree.

Totally, sir. If I was a dog, I'd lift my leg.

Yes, thank you, Habib. Thank you.

Now, Goody, you be an angry protestor.

I won't! I don't want to. I hate you, I hate you!

Goody, I didn't mean protest about just anything.

- Oh, okay. - Now, get hold of that rope

and pretend to tie yourself to me.

And remember you are an environmental protestor.

- Yes, yes. - Come on.

My womb is the earth...

my breast milk its rivers.

I am the she-goddess lesbos!

Goody, what in satan's sausage sandwich are you saying?

I am being a protestor, sir.

When I was a cadet, we policed a no-nuke demo

and a gang of women sang that at us for 15 hours.

We're not gonna sing it here. Get back to your desk.

Shall I pretend to untie the pretend knot I just pretended to tie?

- Just go. - I was just trying to make it more real.

Sir, sir.

I can tell you how to deal with a tree and a person.

Well, make it quick. My arms are aching.

Idea, sir-pretend it's autumn, drop the apple.

Maybe you could be a Virginia Creeper, sir. Then you could lean against the wall.

- Just get on with it, Gladston. - Yes, yes.

You see, as a young constable in London

I was party to a a very regrettable incident involving a man with no trousers

chained to the railings of Buckingham palace.

Good heavens! Was the fellow protesting.

I should think I was, sir. I was getting married that morning.

Anyway, the police cut me free and I got married.

Wrapped in a suvenier tea towel.

So, what you are suggesting is that when we encounter chained protesters

- we should call the police? - Well, it worked with me.

For heaven's sake, we are about to police a serious public disorder.

I have created a brilliant evocation of a mighty and towering oak tree-

- Apple tree. - A mighty and towering apple tree-

- With one apple. - I've had a heavy windfall.

I'm sorry, sir.

It's just more common for the protestors

to remain up the tree in their dwellings.

Really, Kevin should be nestling in your foliage.

Perhaps if he was to sit on your shoulders,

then Frank and I can try and get him down.

Hmmm, yes, you may be right there, Habib.

Certainly worth a try. Constable Goody, get up on my desk please.

- Yes, yes. - Feet apart, come on.

Yes, can't constable Habib do this?

I'm not sticking my head in there, Kevin.

- No, you get your leg over inspector Fowler. - Goody!

Constable Habib is a woman of the opposite sex.

If I'm going to get between anybody's legs, it's going to be a man's.

Come on, boy. Spread your haunches.

Okay. Don't bend my Curly Wurly, please.

- Oh, oh, oh! - Good.

- Mind out for my love blobs. - Oh, be quiet, Goody!

Be quiet. Now, Goody is the protestor,

I am the tree,

Habib and Gladstone, how are you, the police, going to get him down?

I'll come down, I'll come down!

When our next door neighbor cat gets stranded in a tree,

the old man always put a saucer of milk at the bottom

to tempt it down.

I see. And you think the same technique might work

with committed environmental activists?

Well, maybe if we add some biscuits?

- I could make some fudge. - You're going quite bald-

Really, this is quite absurd! None of you are able

to respond at all to the simplest of role-playing techniques.

I'm going to put you back on your desk, Goody.

Okay, mind my gonks.

I can't keep you up all day.

Actually, you know the feeling of someone's ears on your inner thighs

isn't entirely unpleasant.

So that's the trick then, is it, sir?

Just wait around till the tree gets tired?

Smarty pants gets no thanks, Habib.

Clever clogs get scragged in the bogs.

We learnt in training

that the only way to get these tree-dwellers down

is to attach a locked line to them

and gently tease them down.

Right. In that case, I will be the tree-dweller this time.

Gladstone, will you kindly be a tree?

- Oh yes, sir. - Not your plum tree!

Not your plum tree! Just come here and hoist me up.

- Oh, okay, sir. - Come along, come along.

Now, somebody get hold of one end of the rope.

Hand it up to me. Thank you. Goody, you get hold of the other end.

- Yes, yes. - Now, pull it,

and gently tease me.

- Excuse me? - I can't stay up here all day, laddie!

I've got a large constable between my legs. Tease me, tease me!

All right, okay. Umm...

okay, what's the difference between inspector Fowler

- and the canteen cabbage? - What?

The cabbage once had a bit of life in it.

I'm afraid I can't take credit for that one, sir.

- It was constable Habib's. - Thanks a lot, Kevin!

- Goody! - Here's one Gary Boyle made up.

- No, I didn't. - What's the difference

between the manager of Barclays having a fight

and inspector Fowler having a conversation?

One's a warring banker,

- the other one's a boring- - right, let me down!

Let me down!

It worked, he's coming down!

Goody, I meant tease as in "pull the rope"!

Not tease as in "run a very serious risk of being charged."

Honestly, I've done my best for you lot.

You began this briefing totally and utterly unprepared,

and you complete it

slightly less prepared than that.

Well, the coach leaves for the protest at 11:30.

Good luck. Try to keep your tempers, disport yourselves with dignity,

and above all, try not to arrest Seargent Dawkins.

Dismissed.

Tools of the road lobby, that's what we are.

Don't be so soft. We need this bypass.

Blimey, if I weren't a copper and allowed to park on the pavement

and drive up one-way streets, I don't think I'd bother owning a car.

The way to reduce traffic

is to get people to share their cars.

I'm not sharing my car with anyone,

especially veggie environmentalists.

I don't want some bean-eating greenie

blowing off into my leatherette.

What are you lurking about for, Kevin?

- Oh, nothing. - Well, get on the bus then.

Well, actually,

I've got something under my jacket that I'd quite like to show you.

But I think I'll wait until the swelling goes down.

- I should speak to your mother! - God no! Don't, she'd kill me!

You see, the thing is...

I've got a new belly button.

- A new belly button? - As good as.

I've had it pierced.

- No! - Yes!

I was very influenced by these road protestors.

See, no more Mr. Nice Guy, no, no.

I'm young, I'm virile,

and I've got a bright red swollen belly button to prove it.

- Didn't it hurt? - Well, yes,

I did feel a bit of a prick.

But it will be worth it if you're so impressed with it

that you drag me back to your place

and you give me a right flipping seeing to.

Kevin, you could staple your belly button to a double-decker bus

and I still wouldn't give you a seeing to.

Quite franky, I'd rather get my legs over a dead halibut.

So you'll think about it then?

Look, Kevin,

you really should forget about me.

There's lots of nice girls out there, you know?

Good-looking bloke like you,

swollen belly button,

you could take your pick.

Get out there, lean on people,

call in favors, bend the rules if necessary.

And watch yourselves.

What we had hoped was a simple ding

has now been confirmed as a scratch.

We are dealing with a scratcher.

A vicious, immoral, imbalanced maniac.

Inspector Grim, can I have a word, please?

- Be quick, don't fanny about. - Of course.

I have no time for fannying, about or otherwise.

Fanny about on someone else's time, not mine, 'cause I haven't got any.

Find someone who's got time to fanny about, and fanny about with them.

I haven't, mate, so fannying about with me is out.

Look, Derek, you're clearly late for your lobotomy. I'll come back later.

Very funny, Raymond, tres drolly.

And while you are taking the crumbles, society piddles.

I mean, while you are taking the piddle, society crumbles.

Listen, I've had a letter from the chief constable

warning us of an MI5 undercover operation in this area.

Apparently they're infiltrating these road protestors.

Hardly James Bond is it? From dinner jackets and kalashnikovs,

to anoraks and jam jars full of cold urine.

I haven't got time, Raymond.

I am involved in serious police work.

If you get in the way, I'm responsible.

Your cock up, my ass.

Oh, I'm sorry, Grim, I thought you might be interested

in the fact that parliament is allowing the authority of the police

to be usurped by secret and unaccountable organizations.

You're not listening to me, Fowler.

Let me spell it out. Someone has dinged my motor!

Inspector Grim, kindly keep your personal emotions under control.

"My personal emotions"? Oh my.

I'm not the one whose bird would rather spend the night

with a bunch of flea-bitten criminal hippies

than sleep with her bloke.

If you're referring to sergeant Dawkins,

she is not sleeping with me

in order to preserve the planet!

Blimey!

She must be desperate

to come up with an excuse like that.

My Tina just says she's got a headache.

- Trees, not roads! - Trees, not roads!

- Trees, not roads! - Trees, not roads!

- Trees, not roads! - Come on lads.

Now tthese demonstrators play by pretty rought rules.

So we have to be tough. Tougher than a gravel sandwich.

Excuse me.

Stop that you swine! You have no right to use force.

I shall arrest the pair of you.

- Are you alright, Patricia? - Thanks, gum.

Didn't realize there are any decent pigs left.

Just checking. Carry on you men, carry on.

Come here! Come here, you!

- All going well, inspector? - I don't know, I haven't found her yet.

♪ You can't kill the spirit ♪

♪ she's like a mountain. She's big and strong. ♪

♪ She goes on and on and on ♪

♪ you can't kill the spirit- ♪

All right, miss, move along now, move along.

I'm chained to a tree. And I have thrown away the key.

How can I move along, pig?

Yes, of course,

Hello, Mr. Thickie.

Now I hope that you've told your men to be as gentle as possible.

Particularly to the women.

Particularly the blonde women.

5 foot 6, blue eyes, sometimes chew their lower lip-

But- those sort of women.

Go on, and get her.

Unhand this tree, you eco-nazis!

Excuse me. Stop, stop! I'll handle this.

My name's Elf.

Elf, it's a beautiful name.

My name's Kevin.

Patricia, come down this instant.

I will not. The earth needs me.

Why are you doing this, Kevin?

Did you join the police to fight for justice

or to strut about in a nice uniform?

It was a bit of both really.

Then join us, Kevin, chain yourself to me.

Help me protect our children.

You're making an absolute fool of yourself, Patricia.

My name is Squirrel Baggins.

Giving an alias to the police is an extremely serious matter.

It is not a criminal offense to take an assumed name.

It is if it's Squirrel Baggins.

♪ You can't kill the spirit ♪

♪ she's like a mountain... ♪

Now...

I'm going to attach this rope to you-

Get back, get back, you fascist!

- Ow! - Patricia, are you all right?

Police brutality! Police brutality!

Hey!

Stand back, pig!

Aren't there any burglars and muggers out there?

Or does the public pay you to defend it from

beautiful, wounded woodland nymphs?

Gosh.

- Ha! - Whoa!

Let me down! Let me down at once!

If you don't, you will leave me no choice but to arrest you.

Right, that's it. You are under arrest.

Come along with me.

♪ She goes on and on and on and- ♪

Kevin!

- What do you think you're doing? - My name's not Kevin.

It's Pixie.

And I'm protecting the planet.

And I think I might be on here.

Dereliction of duty is an offense, Pixie,

even in the magic forest.

I thought you lot were supposed to be against the exploitation of dumb creatures.

Mmm, yes, you.

I don't even know your name.

That's right, Patricia, get the swine's name. Well done.

What are names? I'm known by my deeds.

I'm the green avenger,

the one the bypass builders fear most.

They'll have to build a bypass just to get round his head.

Most people call me...

Stallion.

My name is Squirrel Baggins.

- Squirrel? - Yes, Stallion?

I came here to protect things of great beauty,

but I never dreamed I would end up protecting something as...

- beautiful as you. - Oh, please!

I have a woodland hideaway perfect for a squirrel.

You can rest and perhaps nibble on my nuts.

Come with me now. Deep,

deeper into the forest, and I will show you my beautiful bender.

Patricia!

Raymond, he means his secret dwelling made from bows of fallen wood.

Don't you, Stallion?

Well, I can certainly show you that as well, if you like.

Ours is not to reason why, Habib,

ours is but to do and, um...

get suspended from a tree by the dongas?

Well, you've all done very well today

and acted with great restraint.

What we must remember

is that these people are deeply frustrated.

Yes, I know how they feel.

Some crusty called me a fascist.

Me! I said, "listen mate,

I've had skinheads shove dog doo through my letterbox."

Well said, constable.

And did he slink away suitably cowed?

No. He said he hadn't called me a racist,

he'd called me a fascist,

which is an authoritarian opposed to democracy and liberalism.

Ah, and what did you say to that?

Well, I was a bit stumped, quite frankly.

So I said, "shut your mouth, you pompous git!"

And I nicked him.

Ah, those years at Accrington school

debating society not entirely wasted then.

I remember skinheads putting dog doo through our letterbox.

One day I heard it happening, so I open my window

and I empty a full baby's potty on him.

- Did he ever come back again? - He had to.

It was the postman.

What a world, eh?

Sometimes I wish I could just go and live somewhere on Radio 4.

Oh well, I'll be wending my sad, lonely, weary way.

Dismissed.

Good night, everyone.

I think you should be very proud of sergeant Dawkins, sir.

She's standing up for what she believes,

suffering discomfort and cold.

It'll be horrible out there in the woods tonight.

Yes, that's true, isn't it?

Thank you, Habib,

you've made me see things differently.

A night or two shivering in a forest and she'll soon come running back.

Well, I'm going home for a nice cup of horlicks.

I rather doubt Patricia'll get

anything warm and satisfying inside her tonight.

Oh-what am I doing?

This is terrible.

Squirrel...

we're wood folk,

free spirits. We aren't chained by society.

We reject their roads and we reject their conventions.

They can't make us small and guilty like them.

That's a sort of nice way of asking for a bonk, isn't it?

Squirrel, I am nature-

A savage, an earth creature. Are you?

Well, I am a member of the national trust.

Then act like a member of the national trust.

Provide me with unhindered access to your areas

of outstanding natural beauty.

Patricia!

Come on, squirrel.

You've been avoiding earth moving equipment all day.

I've got one set of earth moving equipment

you won't want to protest about.

Stallion.

You don't mind that we didn't-

It was too soon, I couldn't.

That's okay, babes.

There's nothing I like more than spending a ngiht with a bird who's desperate for it,

but too up-tight to admit it.

See ya. I've got a world to save.

I'm not desperate for it.

♪ We walked a while, we rushed a while, we're two miles from home. ♪

Well, we played by the rules.

They are destroying the earth.

- We're gonna fight! - Yeah!

Peaceful protest isn't working.

We must destroy the destroyer!

I'll show you how to make bombs.

We can burn their death machines!

Get stones, bricks, clubs, knives.

This time, when they come with their security men and their pigs,

- we'll be ready! - Yeah!

You can't do that, you bloody idiot!

They'll bring in tear-gas,

riot police! What will you do then?

I can get guns if you want them.

Mr. Stallion, I am a police officer.

And you are under arrest for incitement to riot and violence.

Dream on, babes.

No pig'll ever take me.

Will you follow me?!

Yes!

If you do, you'll be following him to jail, I'm afraid.

- You, sir, are under arrest. - Another pig.

Ha!

Now be careful. I've been trained.

Thanks. We'll drink it later.

Ha!

All right, then,

Come on. Come on.

So you finally bonked me, babes. I knew you would.

I brought your breakfast, Patricia.

I had to do it. But I hate myself.

He was so wild, so strong.

You didn't bonker-donker.

Only on the head.

And then I arrested him. But I still admire him.

He cares about the future, and he'll go to prison for his beliefs.

I fear not, Patricia.

Mr. Stallion is free.

- Thank you, Habib. - Yes, sir.

On the grounds that he, like us,

is in the employ of her majesty.

What?!

Carlton, MI5...

babes.

A secret agent?!

One of britain's elite.

Britain's elite? Ha!

Throughout the cold war, you were run by the KGB...

as a sort of gay, sexualist dating agency

for grumpy alcoholics.

Burgess, Maclean, Philby,

blunt, the fifth man, the sixth man,

the eighth man from the left.

If you told them the time of the last coach to Croyden

they'd have flogged it to Moscow for a bottle of scotch

and a copy of "zipper."

Go on, clear off.

No, I want to know what he was doing.

Agent provocateur, babes,

infiltrate the protestors.

Penetrate them, if possible.

Identify the hotheads

and provoke them into violent action.

- What about people's beliefs? - Is this chick for real?

You're nothing but an oily little sneak,

and a coward.

My boyfriend Raymond

is twice the man you'll ever be.

And what's more,

not having sex with him

is 10 times nicer than not having sex with you!

Yes, well...

least said, soonest mended, perhaps.

Go on, clear off.

Go and listen to somebody's phone calls.

Ha!

- Has he gone? - Yes.

Shame, I'd like to have met him.

I must say, it's quite a treat,

having a real live spy in the station.

Very special breed of men,

tough, ruthless,

no fannying about.

I'm sorry I missed him,

I think we might have bonded.

Whose is the Nissan Micra in the car park?

- Who are you? - Carlton, MI5.

Oh, it's mine as it happens.

Grim, C.I.D. it's a lovely motor, don't you think?

- You fancy a spin? - You dinged my Aston!

Do you drive an Aston Martin?

A dinged Aston Martin. Dinged by you.

- You dinged me! - I did not!

- You dinged me! - No way, mate!

- You dinged me! - Learn to drive, why don't you?

- You learn to drive! - Get some glasses!

Get-a hearing aid!

Right.

Ha!

Look...

maybe we should just exchange names and addresses.