Original subtitles

I'm fed up of it!

In 1995, a crack police squad was formed to infiltrate and bring down criminal

empires across the United Kingdom.

Codenamed Operation Good Guys, this squad was headed by the enigmatic D .I.

Beach, otherwise known as Sylvia Laplage to his friends, except in Vauxhall,

where he prefers to be called Betty.

After a series of disasters, including blowing up the Queen Mother in a port -a

-loo and a fracas on the cobbles with Prince Charles,

the cracked scene was publicly disowned by Her Majesty's police force

and quickly disbanded, never to be seen again.

Until now.

This program is dedicated to tracking down the disgraced team and finding out

where are they now.

Let's go on with the show.

the good God.

I told you before to piss off!

Go on, sling your hook!

You're typical, aren't you? Typical of a bloody documentary crew, always

snooping around, prying on people's misfortunes.

Well, we're not misfortunate. No, we're deep undercover, aren't we, Ray? Yes, we

are. We're sleeper agents, that's what we are. Just waiting to be awoken with

the word, the coded word. And when it comes, we're gone. We look like

out of traps.

We're just waiting in like a coiled spring to be awoken. And then you better

wash it all, you... bloody criminals out there, because Beach and Ash are back

and we're coming to get you. Yes, you, we're coming to get you.

You, we're coming to get you.

What's wrong?

I can't do this anymore.

What?

We're not undercover at all, are we?

What do you mean we're not undercover?

I'm starving.

I'm starving, aren't we?

Mark, please help us. It's an old time thing. Can you get us out of here?

You're lying. Mark, just give us a hand. I think I've got a few quid you can

give us.

Just to get us out of here.

Get us to the cafe. We're nice and warm. I can't believe you lied.

I didn't mean to lie to you, but I just did it for your own good. I wanted to

protect you.

But you had all the beans.

Well,

obviously I was a bit upset when I found out Sir was lying to me all the time

about being undercover.

You know, the past six months really have been hell living out here.

But anyway,

we've had our minor difference and I forgive him.

And I've tucked him up in bed and he's calmed down a bit now.

So I just wanted to really show you that it wasn't all that bad.

I'll show you around our home if you like.

Excuse me, sir. I'm just showing them around the home, all right?

All right, well, it's perfectly waterproof.

It's got all this cardboard roof here and we use the bin bags to keep the rain

off when it's raining.

It's got all these lovely little posters up there and his little nightcap.

We've got food.

And this candle, it doubles up. It's our cooker and it's our heater. And on a

cold winter's night, that really comes into its own, that does.

And of course, we keep our personal hygiene up. Sir insists on that.

I wouldn't use it as a toothbrush, though, would you?

And that's about it, really. I mean, you know, we're making do with what we've

got. And it's cosy.

We're just a...

After a month in detox at a health farm, Beach and Ash were like new men.

Beach insisted on a photo call at his local park to show the world that the

beach is back.

I owe a big thanks, I think both Ray and I do, to the BBC.

If they hadn't paid for our treatment in the priory, we'd have been in a black

hole now.

So, I was deluding myself. I realise that now.

I must have been mad to think that someone was going to come along, tap me

the shoulder and say, Detective Inspector, you're back on the force

Bastards. It was never going to happen, was it? No.

But I am back.

And I am going to put that force back together again.

Stronger than they ever were before.

And we're going to go out and we're going to crack crime.

In the private sector.

Oh yeah, they have crime there too, you know. Yes, the public don't have the

monopoly on crime. Oh no.

But I do want to say thanks.

We were on the brink of hell.

I was looking into an abyss.

And if it weren't for you guys, I'd be in that black hole now.

Well, look, how can I put this?

Well, the best way for me to put this, Mark, is, well, you're crap, aren't you?

Well, crap's a little bit strong. Look, I mean, if you were doing my wedding

video, which you're never going to do, I would say, yes, do it, fine.

In your own sort of workmanlike, amateurish way, you're very good.

And I'm talking as an experienced documentary maker, OK?

You kids are straight out from film school, you're wet behind the ears, I

suggest you get a little camera, little digicam, and go off and practice.

So I'm taking over, all right?

This is about me. Who knows more about me than me? I got rid of that presenter.

I'll tell you why I got rid of him. Because he was a niff -niff, mamby

voice. I don't want that on my film. All right?

So with the greatest of respect, you're fired.

Okay?

After exhaustive, intense, painstaking investigation, we tracked down our old

pal Bones to a public house where he's employed as a doorman.

Well, it was hardly painstaking, was it? You just called him on his mobile.

Shut it, Ray.

Well, since leaving the job, I've moved into security.

Private security, that is.

Well, it's in this pub.

And I see it as a...

a stepping stone to much bigger and better things.

It's not dissimilar from my old job in the respect of looking after members of

the public and their safety. I'll give you an example of that.

Just last week, there was this big, horrible, psychopathic woman in there

was about to run amok, so I had to disable and restrain her for the safety

the other customers in this establishment.

Well, I'll tell you what happened. I'm scared to go out now.

I went to my local pub and they put on a show of bingo every Wednesday for us

elderly people.

And we go and we enjoy ourselves.

Suddenly came bingo. To my amazement, I had a full house. I couldn't believe it.

So I put my hand quickly, bingo, to say bingo.

A guy comes across, pulls me by my head, drags me outside, and he broke the

three of my ribs.

And I'm still suffering now. I'm really in pain.

And how can I say it? I feel strong because it annoys me so much when I

him. But that's all.

I hope you catch him.

Well...

That's her side of the story.

She could have had an axe in her bag.

Anyway, I apologise. What more does she want?

Having bought off the old lady, our now unemployed bones rejoined the team.

Our next task was to track down Strings.

We eventually caught up with him in a North London studio.

I wasn't expecting you. Give us one minute, yeah?

Quick, take that Mars bar out and get in the cupboard with the gimp.

Well, basically,

when we were unceremoniously kicked out of the police force, I suffered

terrible stress and my IBS, my irritable bowel, really started playing up.

So I thought, well, I'll have a little claim up, you know. Why not? Everyone

else does.

So I got a little payoff.

from the police and with the proceeds from that i thought right i'm going to

for it i'm going to start my own record company my own label so well 500 pound

doesn't go that far these days but as you can see we've got a little set up

and uh we've signed our first act which is me here we go first cd

medieval knights you see that got that it's available in all good record shops

and of course the internet now download

And it's a concept album about the plight of a gay medieval knight, which I

thought was a subject matter that hadn't really been tackled before in any great

depth. I'll play you a little bit, if that's all right.

This is the title track, Chainmail Love, it's called.

Lance in your hand as we make love.

I feel your spurs riding up and down my back.

Pull down my drawbridge and make your attack.

Medieval night.

A helmet shining bright.

Your shoddy teal boots turn me on.

Your chin -chi -chi melts on.

Medieval night, I love your thick green tides.

You be king and I'll be queen, a champion in my dreams.

But it's so hard when night

turns to gay.

Do you reckon about that?

With strings attached, excuse the pun, and having promised him some TV

we went in search of the Commissioner's nephew, Mark Kemp, who I personally

think is a total twat, but nonetheless one of the team.

Well, as you know, my uncle is the commissioner, and he disbanded the good

which I thought was very unfair. I thought he was doing a good job. He saw

that we were fools and incompetent, blah, blah, blah, whatever.

So I remember going to him in his office, and I said, you know, I want to

resign.

And he was absolutely adamant that I wasn't going to resign.

Now, whether that had anything to do with the police ceremonial goat is

matter.

But what he did suggest at that meeting is that I become Socko.

And I have to confess, at the time, I thought he was managing a football team.

I'm quite into football.

But what it actually was was seeing a crimes officer, Socko.

So, I mean, it's a very important job. You get your own office.

You get broadband, you know, just ten times faster. It's great for games. Just

playing cutthroats nuka. It's quite good.

You know...

But apart from that, I don't really do a lot of police -y things.

If something serious happens, other people just seem to do it. I sort of

here.

But what I really do like, a new vocation for me, is dancing.

And what I've done is I've applied and been successful in getting a residency

the Closet Club in Soho. I don't know if you... Do you know it? Yeah.

It's a small one, isn't it? It's nice when they put the smoke and all that.

So, you know, I do that at night times, which I think I find really rewarding.

I'll tell you what, if you want, do you want to come and see me rehearse?

Something like that, yeah?

If we stop off there, I need to get a cucumber and some whipped cream and

yeah? Cool.

With Mark firmly tucked under my wing, along with incriminating photos of the

Commissioner and the ceremonial goat, we set about finding Bilzebub and Dessard.

This would not be an easy task, since they went missing soon after catching a

gang of bank robbers red -handed with £5 million in cash.

We never did find out what happened with our money, did we?

Oh, I think this is it.

Yes, this is definitely it. It's Gisard and Zeebub the boat.

My God, I mean, look at that.

They've done all right for themselves, haven't they?

Good God.

Hello? Hello, Phil?

It's Sir and Ray.

Well, we've got the full picture now. It appears that Bill and Desard, they're

not there, by the way. They're in Bolivia.

Bill had a big lottery win, apparently.

And by strange coincidence, Desard won the football pools. Can you believe

And they're now residing in South America with their 16 wives.

About eight each, I suppose, Ray, isn't it? I think Desard's got seven.

Has he?

Bill got nine, then.

Very nice.

And so the charismatic, debonair, urbane, square -jawed, godlike Jim Beach

gathered his specialist crew once more to fine -tune them to come forth in a

era like a phoenix from the flames and walk among mere mortals with purpose.

But this is not the end of the quest, my friend.

Oh no, it's only the beginning.

Medieval man with a chainmail glove.

Chainmail glove.

Lanced in your hand as we make love.

He makes love.

Feel your spurs riding up and down my back.

Will you shut up, shut up.

Pull down my drawbridge and make your attack.

Medieval night.

Your helmet shining bright.

Those pointy steel shoes turn me on.

And your dainty chain mail phone.

Medieval night.

I love your thick green tights.

You be king and I'll be queen.

A champion in my dream.

But it's so hard.

When night turns to gay, au noir homme, je t

'aime.

Medieval man with a cockpiece long, chain mail glove.

Play upon my lute and I'll sing you a song.

He makes love.

Take me to your castle and lock me away.

Shut up, shut up.

Mount upon your feet and we'll joust all day.

Medieval night.

Your helmet shining bright.

Those pointy steel shoes turn me on.

And your dainty chain mail phone.

Medieval night.

I love your thick green tights.

You be king and I'll be queen.

A champion in my...

But it's so hard When night turns

to gay

Ha ha ha!