All language subtitles for The Thin Blue Line - 01x05 - Night Shift

No, no.

No. No, Susan, I fear
that is not convenient.

I know he's my son too,

even if he does appear
to be the love child

of a sloth and a warthog.

Look, he is not coming to stay with me

and that is absolutely final.

Just for a fortnight then.

The problem can be
summed up in one word-

Organized crime.

Motors stolen in Gasforth

are being driven across the channel.

Blimey, you'd need a
decent underseal.

Local delinquents nick the cars

and flog 'em on to Mr. Big.

He's out there...

Somewhere,

A fat cat spinning his web,

with his tentacles in every pie.

Shouldn't be too difficult to spot then.

Gentlemen, night duty-

A time when the lamp of justice
must shine like a beacon.

I trust that you are adequately prepared

for the tasks ahead?

I'm at the very peak of my form, sir.

Well, I hope so. For who
knows what danger lurks

in the fearsome watches of the night?

It is our mission to seek it out.

To boldly go where no
man has gone before.

"To go boldly," laddie.
Don't split your infinitives.

Captain Kirk does.

Captain Kirk regularly
accepts figures painted blue

with plastic forehead extensions...

as beings from another planet.

I think we may readily dismiss him

as an authority on anything.

Oh! Oh my god.

Hi, Maggie. You look great.

I'm really looking forward to
spending the night with you.

No, no, I mean,

we'll be on the job together all night.

I know why you like night shifts, Kevin.

Oh my.

It's probably the only
time you get to stay out late.

Next!

All right, Goody, what's all this?

Another promising contender
for the regional heats

of young delinquent of the year?

- What have you been up to, sonny?
- I ain't been up to nothing.

In which case, you must've
been up to something.

You'll find the English language serves
you far better if you use it properly.

So what's he been up to?

Taking without consent,
guv. Hit a lamppost.

Don't call me "guv," laddie.

It's a short step from saying "guv"

To using cockney rhyming
slang, and I won't have it.

Sorry, chief.

If you're even thinking
about being sick on my desk,

first think about removing this
truncheon from your earhole.

Has the doctor been called?

On his way, guv-chief-boss-sir.

I've called inspector Grim, sir.

He asked to be informed if
we picked up any joyriders.

"Joyrider" is not a term I will
allow in my station, constable.

This young lout was involved in
potentially murderous delinquency.

I'm sorry, I was only saying...
I know what you were "only saying," constable.

But it's not good enough.

Crime is crime and
should not be trivialized.

What next? Are we to refer
to grievous bodily harm

as "fun punching"?

Assault with a deadly weapon
as "a laugh and a stab"?

Occupation?

Ducking, diving, dodging, weaving.

So I'll just put total prat, shall I?

All right, Nigel Mansell,
empty out your pockets.

You ain't got no right to search me.

Now there you are wrong.

I have every right to search you.

Indeed, if I suspect
you of possessing drugs,

I am entitled to conduct
an internal body search...

Involving a rubber
glove and a large spoon.

Would you like me to suspect
you of possessing drugs?

So one ballpoint pen, blue.

One contraceptive device-

Aniseed flavored,

two tickets to a rave. Hardly a
professional's car pinching kit.

I fear inspector Grim will
find slim pickings here.

I can't take anymore!

I'll do for someone, I swear!

You're all dead!

Yes, sir, can I help?

Smack. Gotta have smack.

Certainly. Goody, the
gentleman wants a smack.

Two, four, six, eight,
bog in, don't wait!

Habib, handcuffs please.

Constable Goody, are you chewing?

No.

I'm going to ask you that
question again, Goody.

Before I do so, I want you
to consider the consequences

of deliberately lying to a
superior officer whilst on duty.

Those consequences include dismissal,

loss of pension, ostracism
within the community,

and in all probability
a lifelong dependency

on prescription antidepressants.

Now let's try again.
Are you chewing, laddie?

Yes, I am, sir. Helps me think.

I can't say I'd noticed.

He's cuffed, sir.

All right, Habib, well done.

Take the man down.

Cold showers, exercise
and regular roughage

help a man think, Goody,

not Wrigley's juicy fruit.

I'll not have my officers going
about the place like louts.

What do you think we
have plainclothesmen for?

Now swallow it.

Oh, what a night.

Let me tell you,

I shall be glad when we're
tucked up in bed together.

- Really, Raymond?
- Oh yes, certainly.

For I shall be out like a light.

I expect you will too.

Mm-hmm.

But sometimes before we go to sleep

wouldn't it be nice
to share a moment of...

Excitement together?

Hmm, by all means, darling.

I tell you what I could do...

I could read you another chapter
of "King Solomon's Mines."

Constable Goody, have you run mad?

What's the matter, boy?

I think he's choking, inspector.

It's that bubblegum
you made him swallow.

- Bend over, Kevin. Head below your chest.
- Well done, Habib.

Great heavens,
what's the man swallowed,

A bubblegum-flavored elephant?

Get him up. Give him to me.

Look, now fists clenched, thumb inward

between navel and breastbone,

other hand on fist, pull up sharply

to force the upper abdomen
against the lower lungs,

thus driving out the remaining air.

Go on, sir, force it up!

I'm trying to force it up!

What's this then, Fowler?

Some bizarre uniform
branch initiation rite?

Thank you, sir.

Sorry to spoil your fun, Raymond.

Carry on, constable.

Police work remember it?

Where's this car thief?

Not necessarily a thief, Derek.

In this country, a person is innocent

until a judge or jury
find them otherwise.

And god, don't we hate
all that fannying about!

Why don't they change it round?

Presume everybody in the
country is guilty of something-

Which most of them are-

And lock 'em up.

What, the entire population?

Certainly the entire population.

And anyone who can, to the
satisfaction of a senior judge,

prove themselves to be wholly

and fundamentally
innocent would be released.

There'd be a bit less fannying
about then, wouldn't there?

Here we have proof of reincarnation-

Stalin has come back
as an English detective.

I do not advocate a
police state, Fowler.

No, you just want to see everyone live

in abject fear of authority.

Well, it would be nice.

Now then, where's this young lout?

He's with the doctor. His head is cut.

Diddums. Get him out here.
I haven't got all night.

I've got a wife and kids to go home to.

Until the doctor is satisfied,
nobody is seeing him.

Obstructing C.I.D.

In the course of an
investigation, Fowler?

That's a very serious offense that.

I've half a mind to charge you.

You have half a mind full stop.

Endangering the life of a suspect

by denying him proper medical care

- is also a serious offense.
- Right.

You can mollycoddle the scum
of the streets if you want,

I need my kip.

I've got a lot of
important meetings tomorrow.

- Good night.
- Important meetings.

Huh, where's he think
he's going, Scotland Yard?

I doubt it.

I shall certainly be glad
to get out of here tonight.

Oh god, a bit of peace-

No noise, no distractions,

no revolting kids.

Hmm, yes, absolutely.

Lovely.

No revolting kids at all...

Except Bill.

What?

Oh, didn't I tell you?

My son Bill's coming
to stay for a few weeks.

His mother's sick of him.

That's nice, isn't it?

I bought a new nightie today, Raymond.

Mm-hmm.

I couldn't resist it.

It's so... Silky.

It's called "satin passion."

Really?

I know it's extravagant,

but it was in the sale.

- £60.
- What?!

Take it off. Take it off right now!

- Do you really want me to?
- I most certainly do.

That's going straight back to the shop.

£60? But there's hardly anything to it.

Really, if you're going to spend
that kind of money on a garment,

you might at least purchase
something functional.

Running round in that
you'll catch your death.

I suggest you change it
for something knee-length...

In flannelette.

Thought you might like it.

Thought it might turn you on.

Patricia, I think you've
known me long enough to realize

that a reckless disregard
for the value of money

is scarcely likely to excite me.

I'm all for the occasional rash
and exuberant gesture of frivolity,

but £60 for a whisp of
chiffon and a shoelace

is palpably absurd.

Now if you'll excuse me,
I will return to my book.

Oh, Raymond!

I feel like a dried up old prune!

Now there's a thought, Patricia.

Delicious and very good for the bowel.

I'll have one if
you're going downstairs.

Raymond, you're not listening to me.

We are not the first and
we won't be the last couple

to have problems with our sex life.

- We do not have problems.
- We do not have a sex life!

In which case I really don't see
how there can be a problem with it.

Really, Patricia,
you're not making sense.

You can't just ignore it, Raymond.

I want us to see a sex therapist.

Oh please, not that again.

- We need help.
- We do not.

I'm quite capable of...

Satisfying the woman I love

without instructions
from a total stranger

sitting on a beanbag.

Then let's do it!

I want seeing to! I want servicing!

I want to be ravished right now,

with the lights on and your socks off!

If you love me, show me you love me.

You used to. What's changed?

Nothing's changed. Look, I-

Look, I can't, Patricia.

Not now, not with my boy in the house.

I mean, if he were to hear us, you know?

I just feels strange.

That's a pathetic excuse.

It's not!

We can only hope to curb
the excesses of youth

if we lead by example

and show some self-restraint ourselves.

There's nothing wrong with nooky!

Shh! Please, please, please.

He's still very young
and impressionable.

Not much older than that
lad we've got at the station.

He could end up going the same way.

I wonder what Bill gets up to at night.

Considerably more than
we do, I should imagine.

I'll see you in the morning.

Do you want an egg on that?

Yes, thank you, Patricia,
that'd be very nice.

Yes, well, I like a runny yolk.

Ah, good morning, Bill.

Patricia and I were just saying
how nice it is to have you home.

Oh.

You're having a friend to stay, are you?

Yeah. Is there a problem?

No, no, no, that's lovely.

You made up the bed in
the spare room, did you?

You found the sheets all right?
Top shelf, the airing cupboard.

Yeah, sure dad. Spare bed, right. Yeah.

Hmm, well. Well, come on, Bill.

You're not being much of a host,

leaving your friend standing around
like that. Get her some toast.

We can all sit down and
have a nice family breakfast.

No, thanks.

Well, I'm glad we abstained
from sex on his behalf.

Oh, come on, now, Patricia,

don't jump to conclusions.

She's just a pal.

I don't suppose anything
more intimate than that.

They've probably just gone
upstairs to revise for exams.

Practical biology, do you think?

Morning, everyone. Carry on.

We've still got that young
lad in for "twocking."

Two - "twocking,"
constable Habib?

"Twocking"? What do you mean?

I mean taking without
consent, inspector. As in cars.

Then say so, constable.

A criminal charge leaves
no room for ambiguity.

Start dropping bits willy-nilly
and where will it end?

We might arrest a fellow for burglary,

drop a couple of letters to save time,

and end up charging him for buggery.

Sir, another petition
from Lavendar close

about the loud sex noises.

Ah, the noisy nympho at number nine.

Great balls of steaming ooojah.

Is that woman still at it?

I suppose we better bring her in.

No good asking her to
come quietly, I suppose.

There is a place for smutty
innuendo, constable Kray.

That place is on "birds of a feather."

Gladstone, I suppose you
better bring the foul woman in.

She'll be abusive, sir. She always is.

Then arrest her. Put the handcuffs
on her, that might make her think.

I'll tell you what, Frank,
stick 'em on her ankles.

That'll solve the whole thing.

What are we gonna do about
this lad in the cells?

He's been charged, and
we can't hold him forever.

Detective constable
Kray, does inspector Grim

still want to interview
this car thief we're holding?

He's at Scotland Yard, sir.

This is a nationwide operation.

Everything's bigger in C.I.D., isn't it?

Scotland Yard, eh?

Huh, I've only ever been
to Scotland Yard once.

One of the best school
trips we ever went on.

Nationwide operation, eh?

Blimey.

Perhaps I'd better go and
have a chat with the lad.

All right, Goody, you've spoken
with the boy, studied him,

no doubt constructed a
detailed psychological profile.

- Have you drawn any conclusions?
- Yes, I have, sir.

Good, and what are they?

He's a right little scumbag.

The fact, Goody, that you possess
a G.C.S.E. in English language

casts a dark shadow of doubt

across the entire british
educational system.

And who is he?

He won't give us his name.

He says he never sees his family,

says his father left home.

Lives where he likes,
does what he chooses.

Sad, isn't it,

when fathers desert their
responsibilities and break families up?

Yes.

Yes, I suppose it is.

Young blokes get
married without thinking,

get some poor bird up
the duff and naff off.

It's really terrible.

How is your ex-wife, sir...

And your son?

Well enough, thank you, Goody,

considering the overwhelming social
burdens that I place upon them.

All right, laddie,
don't play games with us,

or we can make life pretty
difficult for you if you do.

- Now give me your name.
- Ivor.

You see, Goody,

the firm authoritative
approach normally bears results.

All right, Ivor, what's your surname?

- Biggin.
- Biggin. Good.

Constable, kindly note, "ivor biggin."

Oh, I see...

A comedian.

Yes, sir, he's already named
his two scottish associates-

"ben doon" and "phil mccavity."

It's come to a funny state of affairs

when a woman can't have a bit of rumpo

in the privacy of her own bedroom.

It's having it in your back garden
that people are objecting to.

We done it in the shed.

The shed collapsed.

In fact, sheds collapsed like
dominoes all along divinity road.

Mr. Jones from number 36 phoned us.

He claimed his compost heap
was bouncing round the lawn.

Look, sergeant,

you're a woman, you know
about a woman's needs.

When a woman needs love
she's got to have it.

Otherwise she's just
a dried up old prune.

It doesn't strike me that
banging away in the potting shed

screaming, "do it to me, big
boy," at the top of your voice

has much to do with love.

I love it.

I love sucking the middle
bits out of walnut whips

but that doesn't mean I have the right
to make everybody listen to me do it!

Take her away and charge her.

Cup of tea, Pat?

You all right?

You look a bit down.

Don't be silly, Maggie.
I'm just a dowdy old drab

with the sex appeal of a toilet brush.

Why on earth would I feel down?

Sergeant Dawkins,

I'm back from Scotland Yard.
Were there any messages for me

while I was at Scotland Yard?

- No, inspector Grim.
- Good. Good, good.

So no messages from Scotland Yard then?

It's just I've been at Scotland Yard,

I thought there might be a message.

Good.

Ah, inspector Grim.

Yes, I've been to Scotland Yard.

The yard
it's not such a big deal.

I wish people wouldn't
keep going on about it.

This business of yobbos
nicking cars for major villains,

big worry for the boys at scotters.

That's why they sent
for Grim of Gasforth.

Yes, well, we're still
holding one of the hooligans.

- Perhaps you'd like to...
- All in good time.

After I've had my lunch, Fowler.

Kray, did you book somewhere nice?

Of course I did, sir. A pizza...

Ah, thank you constable Habib.

No chockie hobnobs?

I'm afraid not, sir. Only rich tea.

Well, perhaps that's as it should be.

Perhaps a man who has
failed in his duty to society

doesn't deserve his choice of biccy.

How's that, sir?

That lad we're holding
in the interview room.

Arrogant, rude, opinionated, unpleasant.

He could be my own son.

- You think so, sir?
- Yes, I do.

Tomorrow perhaps, it will be my boy.

The lad we've collared comes from
a broken home just like my lad.

Broken home? That's a
terrible thing to say, sir.

Lots of couples split up.

It doesn't mean their kids are
going to turn out to be louts.

Oh, true, true.

I suppose the first six
children in line to the throne

come from broken homes.

That's right, sir. Can't
see much chance of us

pulling William and Harry for twock-

Taking without consent.

Thank you, constable Habib.

You have a wise head on
those young shoulders.

I'd like to say something else
if that's all right, inspector.

Very well, constable, what is it?

It's none of my business,

but I think you might worry a bit
less about your old relationships

and a bit more about your current one.

Sergeant Dawkins, you mean.

I know it's not my
place to interfere, sir,

but she does seem very low.

Hmm. Hmm.

Yes, well, perhaps you're right.

Thank you for bringing this
matter to my attention, constable.

I will act on information received.

Sorry about trying to kill
you last night, inspector.

I didn't mean no harm by it.

Contrition is the first
step to rehabilitation.

What you have to do now
is smarten yourself up.

Think positively, exercise,

fresh air, plenty of roughage.

And stop taking heroin.

I think that has to be very
much a factor in the new you.

Good luck in court.

- Patricia?
- Yes.

I would rather drink from
the bladder of a baboon

than say what I am about to say.

However, I have decided
that it is unfair of me

to ignore your frustrations any longer.

I have been selfish.

People have to work at relationships.

It's like anything in life-

You get out what you put in.

Exactly so.

You haven't put
anything in for a long time.

Yes, yes. I'm aware of that.

I'm aware of that.

I've therefore decided
that possibly one day,

as a very last resort,

once we've tried acupuncture,

oyster diets and watching
late night channel 4,

that I might possibly consent

to us visiting some
form of a sex therapist.

Thank you, Raymond.

I'll phone and see if she
can see us this lunchtime.

Please, please, please, believe me,

talking about sex is not embarrassing.

Nipple, flap, bottom,

hide the sausage-

I'm not remotely embarrassed.

So very much on your own there then.

Last night I did it bent backwards

over the sitting room pouffe.

Doing something like that
is as normal and ordinary

as saying "good morning."

I don't want to hear about
you bending over backwards.

That's because you're repressed.

No, I just want to keep my dinner down.

Don't be hostile, Raymond.

We agreed to give it a try.

The first principal of sex therapy

is sex deprivation.

You must agree not to have sex,

to deny each other all physical contact.

Do you think you can do that for me?

Patricia, this woman's costing us £40.

Right.

Now tomorrow I want
you to come in wearing

only your underwear.

You will sit facing each other

but won't touch each other.

This way the spark of
desire will be rekindled

through deprivation and denial.

After which, of course,
the licking can start.

Please, don't worry.

In order that no one
should feel embarrassed,

I too will be wearing only underwear.

Of course, by the end of the week

we shall all be completely naked.

Come on, let's not wait.

Let's do it now.

Sir, detective inspector Grim said he
wanted to see you when you got back.

Thank you, constable nipple.

So this young twocker comes
from a broken home, eh?

You're a divorce,

aren't you, inspector Fowler?

Left your wife alone with a kid,

did you not?

I'm sorry for you, of course.

As a dedicated family man,
I know what you've missed.

Right then,

let's have a look at this car thief.

More a delinquent than a thief, I think.

I doubt this lad has the
brains to fence a stolen car.

Allow me to be the
judge of that, Fowler.

As a highly-trained detective
and confidant of scotland yard,

I shall know instantly

whether this lad is a
malevolent criminal genius

or the cretinous child
of a brainless swine.

- Darren!
- Hello, dad.

I am not a vindictive man, Patricia,

which is probably why
I've remained in uniform.

We charged the lad with taking
without consent, of course,

but I have agreed to keep the
matter as quiet as possible.

I don't know why.

Inspector Grim's such a pig.

Why should you do him any favors?

Virtue is its own reward.

In this case, Grim gave me two
tickets to tonight's all-night rave,

which his son will not now be attending.

I thought perhaps you and
Rhona might like them, Bill.

- No, thanks, dad.
- Oh.

So you're staying in tonight then?

Are you sure you can't be persuaded
to wildly prance off with your pal?

No, I'm going down to the library.

You don't get to university
going to raves, do you?

And it's to prance wildly, dad.
Don't split your infinitives.

Come on, Rhona.

Perhaps I misjudged the boy.

The point is that we are alone.

Yes, Raymond.

And what I should like to propose

is that we clear away the things,

do the washing up,

and then perhaps a bit of rumpy.

I'll just have another cup of-

I beg your pardon?

I should like to make
love tonight, Patricia.

And perhaps... Tomorrow morning.

I might even be persuaded

to have a bash at a different position.

This is so sudden, so-

So the sex therapist worked?

Worked? She's a genius.

Because I will do anything,
absolutely anything,

as long as I don't have to
visit that foul woman ever again.