HOT FUZZ
Nicholas Angel: What's the matter, Danny? Never taken a shortcut before?
[proceeds to leap over a series of backyard fences]
DS Andy Wainwright: It's alright, Andy! It's just bolognese!
[over shop radio]: Annette - that Sergeant Angel's coming into your shop. Get a look at his arse.
[after having been shot]
Reverend Philip Shooter: Jesus Christ!
Joyce Cooper: FASCIST!
Nicholas Angel: Hag!
DS Andy Wainwright: You do know there are more guns in the country than there are in the city.
DS Andy Cartwright: Everyone and their mums is packin' round here!
Nicholas Angel: Like who?
DS Andy Wainwright: Farmers.
Nicholas Angel: Who else?
DS Andy Cartwright: Farmers' mums.
Nicholas Angel: [having a crackdown on underage drinkers in the pub] Oy! When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #1: 22nd of february.
Nicholas Angel: What year?
Underage Drinker #1: Every year!
Nicholas Angel: Get out!
Nicholas Angel: [to the second underage drinker] When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #2: 8th of may... 1969...
Nicholas Angel: You're 37?
Underage Drinker #2: Yeah!
Nicholas Angel: get out!
Nicholas Angel: [turns to last drinker] When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #3: [high pitched] Uhhhh...
Nicholas Angel: Out!
Metropolitan Police Inspector: [darkly] You don't want me to get the Chief Inspector down here do you?
Nicholas Angel: Yes, I would actually.
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Very well.
[to a man by the door]
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Kenneth?
Nicholas Angel: The swan's escaped, right, and who might you be?
P.I Staker: Mr. Staker, yeah, Mr. Peter Ian Staker.
Nicholas Angel: P.I Staker? Right, Piss Taker! Come on!
Nicholas Angel: [cut to Angel talking to Mr. Staker] OK, Mr Staker...
Nicholas Angel: I may not be a religious man Reverend, but I know right and I know wrong and I have the good grace to know which is which.
Reverend Philip Shooter: Oh, fuck off, grasshopper.
[repeated line]
Danny Butterman: Pub?
[Doris knocks down a female shop assistant with a yellow "Slippery floor" sign]
DS Andy Wainwright: Nice one, Doris.
PC Doris Thatcher: Nothing like a bit of girl on girl!
PC Doris Thatcher: I could have given you the tour! I've been around the station a few times!
Sergeant: Hello Nicholas.
Nicholas Angel: Hello Sergeant.
Sergeant: How's the hand?
Nicholas Angel: Still a bit stiff.
Sergeant: It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you weren't snapped up sooner for a nice desk job. That's what I'd do.
Nicholas Angel: I'm afraid I think my office is out on the street.
Sergeant: Indeed you do! Your arrest record is four hundred percent higher than any other officer, which is why it's high time that such... skills... were put to better use. We're making you sergeant.
Nicholas Angel: I see.
Sergeant: [mumbles]
Nicholas Angel: In where, sorry?
Sergeant: In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
Nicholas Angel: But that's in the country...
Sergeant: Yes! Lovely!
Nicholas Angel: Isn't there a sergeant's position here in London?
Sergeant: Oh, no.
Nicholas Angel: Can I remain here as a PC?
Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Do I have any choice in this?
Sergeant: No!
Nicholas Angel: Sergeant, I kinda like it here.
Sergeant: Well, you've always wanted a transfer to the country.
Nicholas Angel: In twenty years or so, yes.
Sergeant: Well done you.
Nicholas Angel: With respect, sir, you can't just make people disappear.
Chief Inspector: Yes I can, I'm the Chief Inspector.
Nicholas Angel: Well however you spin this, there's one thing you haven't taken into account. And that's what the team are gonna make of this.
[gets up and opens the door, where the team standing below a sign reading 'Good Luck Nicholas']
[after being told they are reassigning him to a nice village he originally planned for retirement]
Nicholas Angel: I don't know what to say.
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Yes.
Sergeant: Yes, thank you.
Sergeant Tony Fisher: [at the scene of Lesley Tiller's death] Hang about, hang about... you're saying this wasn't an accident?
[Angel grimaces and drops money into the swear box]
Nicholas Angel: Lesley Tiller was *fucking* murdered!
DS Andy Cartwright: Just like Tim Messenger?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: George Merchant?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Cartwright: And Eve Draper?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: Martin Blower?
Nicholas Angel: No, actually.
DS Andy Wainwright, DS Andy Cartwright: Really?
Nicholas Angel: [shouts] 'Course he fucking was!
Narrator: Police Constable Nicholas Angel: born and schooled in London, graduated Canterbury University in 1993 with a double first in Politics and Sociology. Attended Hendon College of Police Training and displayed great aptitude in field exercises, notably Urban Pacification and Riot Control. Academically excelled in theoretical course work and final year examinations. Received a Baton of Honour, graduated with distinction into the Metropolitan Police Service and quickly established an effectiveness and popularity within the community. Proceeded to improve skill base with courses in advanced driving and advanced cycling. He became heavily involved in a number of extra-vocational activities and to this day, he holds the Met record for the hundred meter dash. In 2001, he began active duty with the renowned SO19 Armed Response Unit and received a Bravery Award for efforts in the resolution of Operation Crackdown. In the last twelve months, he has received nine special commendations, achieved highest arrest record for any officer in the Met and sustained three injuries in the line of duty, most recently in December when wounded by a man dressed as Father Christmas.
Simon Skinner: [on walkie-talkie after Angel has knocked out Michael] Michael, are you there?
Nicholas Angel: Yarp...
Simon Skinner: Has Sergeant Angel been taken care of?
Nicholas Angel: Yarp...
Simon Skinner: Is he going to get up anymore?
Nicholas Angel: [Thinks for a while] ... Narp?
Simon Skinner: Good, proceed to the castle.
Danny Butterman: [after supposedly stabbing Sgt. Angel, waving a sachet of tomato ketchup] Da daaa!
Nicholas Angel: Danny, this is murder.
Danny Butterman: It's not murder, it's ketchup.
Nicholas Angel: It's Frank, he's appointed himself Judge, Jury and Executioner.
Danny Butterman: [agitated and defensive] He is not Judge Judy and Executioner.
Nicholas Angel: You don't mind a bit of manpower, do ya Doris?
PC Doris Thatcher: [laughing] Oh, dirty bastard!
Nicholas Angel: What's the matter, Danny? Never taken a shortcut before?
[proceeds to leap over a series of backyard fences]
DS Andy Wainwright: It's alright, Andy! It's just bolognese!
[over shop radio]: Annette - that Sergeant Angel's coming into your shop. Get a look at his arse.
[after having been shot]
Reverend Philip Shooter: Jesus Christ!
Joyce Cooper: FASCIST!
Nicholas Angel: Hag!
DS Andy Wainwright: You do know there are more guns in the country than there are in the city.
DS Andy Cartwright: Everyone and their mums is packin' round here!
Nicholas Angel: Like who?
DS Andy Wainwright: Farmers.
Nicholas Angel: Who else?
DS Andy Cartwright: Farmers' mums.
Nicholas Angel: [having a crackdown on underage drinkers in the pub] Oy! When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #1: 22nd of february.
Nicholas Angel: What year?
Underage Drinker #1: Every year!
Nicholas Angel: Get out!
Nicholas Angel: [to the second underage drinker] When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #2: 8th of may... 1969...
Nicholas Angel: You're 37?
Underage Drinker #2: Yeah!
Nicholas Angel: get out!
Nicholas Angel: [turns to last drinker] When's your birthday?
Underage Drinker #3: [high pitched] Uhhhh...
Nicholas Angel: Out!
Metropolitan Police Inspector: [darkly] You don't want me to get the Chief Inspector down here do you?
Nicholas Angel: Yes, I would actually.
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Very well.
[to a man by the door]
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Kenneth?
Nicholas Angel: The swan's escaped, right, and who might you be?
P.I Staker: Mr. Staker, yeah, Mr. Peter Ian Staker.
Nicholas Angel: P.I Staker? Right, Piss Taker! Come on!
Nicholas Angel: [cut to Angel talking to Mr. Staker] OK, Mr Staker...
Nicholas Angel: I may not be a religious man Reverend, but I know right and I know wrong and I have the good grace to know which is which.
Reverend Philip Shooter: Oh, fuck off, grasshopper.
[repeated line]
Danny Butterman: Pub?
[Doris knocks down a female shop assistant with a yellow "Slippery floor" sign]
DS Andy Wainwright: Nice one, Doris.
PC Doris Thatcher: Nothing like a bit of girl on girl!
PC Doris Thatcher: I could have given you the tour! I've been around the station a few times!
Sergeant: Hello Nicholas.
Nicholas Angel: Hello Sergeant.
Sergeant: How's the hand?
Nicholas Angel: Still a bit stiff.
Sergeant: It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you weren't snapped up sooner for a nice desk job. That's what I'd do.
Nicholas Angel: I'm afraid I think my office is out on the street.
Sergeant: Indeed you do! Your arrest record is four hundred percent higher than any other officer, which is why it's high time that such... skills... were put to better use. We're making you sergeant.
Nicholas Angel: I see.
Sergeant: [mumbles]
Nicholas Angel: In where, sorry?
Sergeant: In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
Nicholas Angel: But that's in the country...
Sergeant: Yes! Lovely!
Nicholas Angel: Isn't there a sergeant's position here in London?
Sergeant: Oh, no.
Nicholas Angel: Can I remain here as a PC?
Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Do I have any choice in this?
Sergeant: No!
Nicholas Angel: Sergeant, I kinda like it here.
Sergeant: Well, you've always wanted a transfer to the country.
Nicholas Angel: In twenty years or so, yes.
Sergeant: Well done you.
Nicholas Angel: With respect, sir, you can't just make people disappear.
Chief Inspector: Yes I can, I'm the Chief Inspector.
Nicholas Angel: Well however you spin this, there's one thing you haven't taken into account. And that's what the team are gonna make of this.
[gets up and opens the door, where the team standing below a sign reading 'Good Luck Nicholas']
[after being told they are reassigning him to a nice village he originally planned for retirement]
Nicholas Angel: I don't know what to say.
Metropolitan Police Inspector: Yes.
Sergeant: Yes, thank you.
Sergeant Tony Fisher: [at the scene of Lesley Tiller's death] Hang about, hang about... you're saying this wasn't an accident?
[Angel grimaces and drops money into the swear box]
Nicholas Angel: Lesley Tiller was *fucking* murdered!
DS Andy Cartwright: Just like Tim Messenger?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: George Merchant?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Cartwright: And Eve Draper?
Nicholas Angel: Yes!
DS Andy Wainwright: Martin Blower?
Nicholas Angel: No, actually.
DS Andy Wainwright, DS Andy Cartwright: Really?
Nicholas Angel: [shouts] 'Course he fucking was!
Narrator: Police Constable Nicholas Angel: born and schooled in London, graduated Canterbury University in 1993 with a double first in Politics and Sociology. Attended Hendon College of Police Training and displayed great aptitude in field exercises, notably Urban Pacification and Riot Control. Academically excelled in theoretical course work and final year examinations. Received a Baton of Honour, graduated with distinction into the Metropolitan Police Service and quickly established an effectiveness and popularity within the community. Proceeded to improve skill base with courses in advanced driving and advanced cycling. He became heavily involved in a number of extra-vocational activities and to this day, he holds the Met record for the hundred meter dash. In 2001, he began active duty with the renowned SO19 Armed Response Unit and received a Bravery Award for efforts in the resolution of Operation Crackdown. In the last twelve months, he has received nine special commendations, achieved highest arrest record for any officer in the Met and sustained three injuries in the line of duty, most recently in December when wounded by a man dressed as Father Christmas.
Simon Skinner: [on walkie-talkie after Angel has knocked out Michael] Michael, are you there?
Nicholas Angel: Yarp...
Simon Skinner: Has Sergeant Angel been taken care of?
Nicholas Angel: Yarp...
Simon Skinner: Is he going to get up anymore?
Nicholas Angel: [Thinks for a while] ... Narp?
Simon Skinner: Good, proceed to the castle.
Danny Butterman: [after supposedly stabbing Sgt. Angel, waving a sachet of tomato ketchup] Da daaa!
Nicholas Angel: Danny, this is murder.
Danny Butterman: It's not murder, it's ketchup.
Nicholas Angel: It's Frank, he's appointed himself Judge, Jury and Executioner.
Danny Butterman: [agitated and defensive] He is not Judge Judy and Executioner.
Nicholas Angel: You don't mind a bit of manpower, do ya Doris?
PC Doris Thatcher: [laughing] Oh, dirty bastard!
