Hot Fuzz: Part 1
INT. METROPOLITAN POLICE STATION.
FRONT DESK M DAY
POLICE CONSTABLE NICHOLAS ANGEL bursts through the entrance of a eity police station and flashes his warrant card.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
Police Constable Nicholas Angel.
INT. METROPOLITAN POLICE STATION - DAY
ANGEL strides down a corridor. His collar number reads 777.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
Born and schooled in London. Graduated from Canterbury University in 1993 with a double flrst in politics and sociology.
INSERT: ANGEL at training college standing amongst dopey looking trainees. They wear navy tee shirts and shorts.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
Attended police training college, displaying an impressive aptitude in both field training and theoretical studies.
INSERT: ANGEL running in riot gear down an alley, dodging petrol bombs, storming a fake hostage situation, finishing an exam and holding the paper aloft.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
(cont’d) Excelled way beyond peers, passed into the Metropolitan Police Service
INSERT: ANGEL surrounded by the same dopey faces as before, this time in full uniform, at a graduation parade.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
-and soon proved worth as an officer. Establishing both a popularity and an effectiveness in the community.
INSERT: ANGEL talking with elderly people, a Chinese family in their native tongue, young offenders in a hall.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
Furthering his skills with elective training courses in advanced driving-
INSERT: ANGEL doing an elaborate skid in a police car.
MALE VOICE (V.O.) -as well as pioneering the use of the mountain bicycle.
INSERT: ANGEL doing an elaborate skid on a police bike. MALE VOICE (V.O.) (cont’d) -and raising offloe morale with an inventive use of desktop publishing.
INSERT: ANGEL pinning up various notices in bright colours; they read ’BIKE SHED’, ’CANTEEN’, ’HATE CRIMES’.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
(cont’d) -Also became heavily involved in many extra curricular activities and to this day holds the Met record for the 100 metre dash.
INSERT: ANGEL fencing, doing judo, playing chess, bursts through a finishing tape at speed.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
-In 2001 began operations in a North London armed response unit, Whiskey, Bravo 7-
INSERT: ANGEL bursts into a stairwell of an apartment block as part of a heavily armed response team.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
-and received a bravery award for efforts in the resolution of Operation Crackdown
INSERT: ANGEL storms a room where a wild eyed CRACKHEAD holds a family hostage with a KALASHNIKOV. ANGEL responds fast, firing a short burst. His expression is one of shock.
MALE VOICE (V.O.) (cont’d)
In the last twelve months alone, has received nine special commendations, achieved the highest arrest record for any officer in the borough and sustained three injuries in the line of duty, most recently in December when wounded by a man dressed as Father Christmas.
INSERT: We see flashes of framed commendations, multiple cuffing and a violent altercation with a wild eyed St. Nick.

INT. METROPOLITAN POLICE STATION. FRONT DESK M DAY
POLICE CONSTABLE NICHOLAS ANGEL bursts through the entrance of a city police station and flashes his warrant card.
MALE VOICE (V.0.}
Police Constable Nicholas Angel.

INT. SERGEANT’S OFFICE - DAY
ANGEL sits opposite a jovial SERGEANT of the same age.
SERGEANT
Hello Nicholas. How’s the hand?
ANGEL
Still a bit stiff.
SERGEANT
Hardly fitting for such a good boy.
ANGEL
I’m sorry Sergeant?
SERGEANT
Getting stabbed by Santa.
ANGEL
Right.
SERGEANT
It can get awfully hairy out there. I’m surprised you hadn’t been snapped up into a nice desk job before. That’s what I did.
ANGEL
I know sergeant. I prefer to think my office is out on the street.
SERGEANT
Indeed you do. Your arrest record is 460% higher than any other officer. And your paperwork is really quite exemplary. You do like to cross the ’I’s and dot the ’T’s.
ANGEL
Dot the ’I’s and cross the ’T’s.
SERGEANT
Exactly. And that’s why it’s high time such skills were put to better use. We’re making you Sergeant.
ANGEL
I see.
SERGEANT
(mumbles) In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
ANGEL
In where sorry?
SERGEANT
In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
ANGEL
That’s in the country.
SERGEANT
Yes, lovely.
ANGEL
That’s miles away.
SERGEANT
Lovely.
ANGEL
Is there not a Sergeant’s position in London? SERGEANT No. ANGEL
Well, can I just stay here as a P.C.?
SERGEANT
Nooo.
ANGEL
Do I have any choice in this?
SERGEANT
Noooo.
ANGEL
But, I like it here.
SERGEANT
You always said you wanted to transfer to the country.
ANGEL
In twenty years time maybe.
SERGEANT
Well done you.
ANGEL
Hang on - I don’t actually remember telling you that.
SERGEANT
Yes you did, you said" (slyly looks at notes) "I’d love to settle down in the country sometime Janine".
ANGEL
I’d like to talk to the Inspector.
SERGEANT
Hey, fine. You can talk to the Inspector, but I promise he’ll say the same thing as me.
INT. SERGEANT’S OFFICE - DAY
An equally jovial INSPECTOR sits alongside the SERGEANT.
INSPECTOR
Hello Nicholas. How’s the hand?
ANGEL
Still a bit stiff.
INSPECTOR
How are things at home?
ANGEL
I’m sorry sir?
INSPECTOR
How’s Janine?
ANGEL We’re no longer together sir.
INSPECTOR
So where are you living now?
SERGEANT
He’s in the Section House sir.
INSPECTOR
With all the recruits?
ANGEL
Temporarily yes, but...
INSPECTOR
Well, we must get you out of there. SERGEANT Yes, he’s living out of cardboard boxes.
INSPECTOR
Well, then you’re already packed. Nicholas, we’re offering you a smashing position and a delightful cottage in a lovely little place that’s been voted ’Village of the Year’ I don’t know how many times. It’ll be good for you.
SERGEANT
We’re only asking you to go for nine months.
ANGEL
Nine months!?
INSPECTOR
A year.
SERGEANT
Two years tops.
ANGEL
I really don’t know what to say.
INSPECTOR
Just say yes.
SERGEANT
Just say yes, thank you.
ANGEL
No, I’m sorry sir, I want to...
INSPECTOR
-take this higher?
ANGEL
Yes. Yes I do.
INSPECTOR
You want me to bother the Chief Inspector with this?
ANGEL
Yes I do.
INSPECTOR
You want me to get the Chief Inspector to come all the way down here?
ANGEL
Yes.
INSPECTOR
Okay. Kenneth?
The jovial CHIEF INSPECTOR (50’s) enters. ANGEL stands.
CHIEF INSPECTOR
Hello Nicholas. How’s the hand? INSPECTOR & SERGEANT Still a bit stiff. ANGEL Chief InspectorCEIEF INSPECTOR Keep your seat. Now, I know what you’re going to say, but the fact is, you’re making us all look bad. ANGEL I’m sorry sir? CHIEF INSPECTOR Of course we all appreciate your efforts, but you’re rather letting the side down. 8. ANGEL But, my record is 406% higher than everyone else. CHIEF INSPECTOR Exactly... ANGEL I’m not sure ICHIEF INSPECTOR Sometimes you’ve just got to sail the middle path. INSPECTOR It’s all about being a team player, Nicholas. SERGEANT You can’t be the Sheriff of London. CHIEF INSPECTOR If we let you carry on running around town, you’ll just continue to be exceptional and we can’t have that. You’ll put us all out of a job. ANGEL With the greatest respect, sir. You can’t just make people disappear. CHIEF INSPECTOR Yes I can. I’m the Chief Inspector.
INSPECTOR
No one’s disappearing, Sergeant.
ANGEL
However you spin this, there’s one thing you haven’t counted on. And that’s what the ’team’ are going to make of this.
ANGEL exits the office and is greeted by every officer in the force, clasping plastic glasses. A makeshift sign made from colour photocopied sheets reads ’GOOD LUCK NICHOLAS’.
INT. GROUND FLOOR ESTATE FLAT - DAY
A group of Crime Scene Investigators dressed in white protective suits, face masks and goggles, work in a blood spattered room. A mobile rings. One of the CSI’s picks up.
JANINE
Hello.
ANGEL (O.S.}
Janine. It’s me.
JANINE
I know. I’m at work.
ANGEL (O.S.)
I know. I’m outside.
JANINE turns to see ANGEL outside the window on his mobile.
ANGEL (CONT’D}
What’s the situation?
JANINE
You know the situation. We’ve been over this.
ANGEL
I meant here.
JANINE
Two people involved, distinct signs of a struggle. A complete mess.
ANGEL
You are talking about here?
JANINE
Nicholas, what do you want?
ANGEL
I need to tell you something and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.
ANGEL disappears. Beat. He re-enters moments later and approaches the hallway door. He sees JANINE.
ANGEL (CONT’D)
Janine, I’m being transferred. I’m going away for a while-
MALE CSI
I’m not Janine.
A cough. ANGEL turns to find JANINE standing to his right.
ANGEL
Janine, I’m being transferred. I’m going away for a while.
JANINE
I know. Bob told me.
Another CSI walks past and waves to ANGEL.
BOB
Alright?
ANGEL
I just wanted to tell you in person. There’s no reason why we can’t be civil with each other. It’s not so long ago that we were talking about getting married.
JANINE
Yes but you were already married to the force weren’t you?
ANGEL
We’re actually supposed to refer to it as ’the service’ now. Official’vocab guidelines state that ’force’ sounds too aggressive.
JANINE
See that’s it. It’s only ever about the job. It’s all you care about.
ANGEL
That’s not true.
JANINE
No, you’re right, you do have that rubber plant.
ANGEL
It’s actually a Japanese Peace Lily.
JANINE
You just can’t switch off Nicholas.
JANINE whips off her goggles for emphasis. We are still no wiser as to what she looks like.
JANINE (cont’d)
And until you find a person you care about more than your job, you never will. Besides you were the one who suggested we take a break.
ANGEL
Yeah well, guilty people usually make the first move.
JANINE
Actually there’s something I need to tell you too.
ANGEL
You’re seeing somebody.
JANINE
Yes. How did you-?
ANGEL
Is it Bob?
We see BOB dusting for prints.
JANINE
No. Does Bob look like the kind of person I’d go out with?...It’s Dave.
She gestures to an identical CSI. He waves to ANGEL.
DAVE
Alright?
ANGEL looks down and stares at the floor. JANINE softens.
JANINE
Oh, Nicholas...
ANGEL
You do know that window’s been broken from the inside?
The CSIs look to the broken window. JANINE hangs her head.
INT. SECTION HOUSE CORRIDOR/BEDROOM - DAY
We prowl down the corridor of a dormitory to a tiny bedroom. ANGEL packs a large red suitcase and takes down photos from the wall; a blonde child in a toy police car, an article reading ’HERO GUN COP SAVES FAMILY’. We start to hear voice messages...
FRANK (V.O.)
Hello there, Nicholas, Frank Butterman here, your new Inspector.
I'm just calling with details of your accommodation. We've got you a lovely little cottage on Spencer Hill. Look forward to meeting you anon. Cheerio.


INT/EXT. TITLES/TRAVEL MONTAGE - DAY - DUSK
ANGEL leaves the section house, striking a lonely figure on the pavement with his suitcase and pot plant under his arm... ...ANGEL cradles his POT PLANT on a crowded TUBE TRAIN... ...ANGEL reads The Guardian on an INTER-CITY TRAIN and eats tofu from a lunch box. Urban landscapes whisk by...

FRANK (V.O.)
Nicholas, Frank again. One other thing about your cottage. It's not ready.

...ANGEL and his POT PLANT at a deserted train station... ...ANGEL sits on a connecting shuttle train. The reception bars on his mobile deplete. Street lights whizz by... ...ANGEL sits in a minicab in semi darkness. Out of the window a sign looms: ’WELCOME TO SANDEORD’, ’THE COMMUNITY THAT CARES’. It features a picture of castle ruins. ...Signs whizz by; one pointing to the ’MODEL VILLAGE’, a large floral display reading ’SANDFORD, VILLAGE OF THE YEAR’, a NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCH sign. We see a local church surrounded in scaffolding. Rain spots the cab window.
EXT. SANDFORD VILLAGE SQUARE - EVENING
The minicab pulls away, leaving ANGEL, a lonely figure on the pavement, the pot plant under his arm.
INT. SWAN HOTEL RECEPTION - NIGHT
ANGEL comes in to the reception of an up-market guest house, with twee living room furnishings in the foyer. A VERY OLD MAN snores in an armchair. We see a poster for a production of ROMEO AND JULIET. An ornamental sword is mounted above a front desk where a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN presides. She doesn’t look up.
WOMAN
It would appear the heavens have opened.
ANGEL
I was hoping I could check in. WOMAN Check in? But you’ve always been here.
ANGEL
Excuse me?
WOMAN (peering through specs) I’m sorry, I thought you were my husband. You must be Sgt. Angel.
ANGEL
Um, yes I am.
JOYCE COOPER
I’m Joyce Cooper. I trust you had a pleasant trip. Fascist.
ANGEL
I beg your pardon?
JOYCE COOPER
System of Government characterised by extreme dictatorship. Seven across.
MRS. COOPER motions to the crossword she’s been doing.
ANGEL
Ah. I believe that’s ’fascism’.
JOYCE COOPER Fascism? Wonderful. We’ve put you in the ’Castle Suite’. It’s on the second floor. Bernard will escort you up.
She motions to the OLD MAN in the foyer. For a moment he looks dead but a prodigious snore proves otherwise.
ANGEL
It’s okay. I’m sure I can make my own way up. Hag.
JOYCE COOPER
I beg your pardon?
ANGEL
Evil old woman considered ugly or frightful. 12 down.
JOYCE COOPER
Bless you.

INT. SWAN HOTEL CORRIDOR/ROOM - DAY
ANGEL approaches a door marked CASTLE SUITE. He unlocks it and enters. The room is quaint but identical in dimension to his previous accomodation. ANGEL takes off his jacket and places his POT PLANT on the windowsill. It’s deathly quiet. ANGEL grabs his jacket again.
EXT. SANDFORD SQUARE - NIGHT
The rain now stopped, ANGEL walks the empty streets. He hears signs of life from the pub. He heads towards it, passing the village fountain, where a group of young children gather. Chatting, leaning on skateboards, they all wear hooded tops. ANGEL frowns and glances at his watch. As he passes, the HOODIES all stare after him.
INT. THE CROWN - NIGHT
ANGEL cautiously enters a lively pub, complete with rustic farming equipment and a cheery landlord and landlady.
ROTUND DRINKER
Pint of lager, please Mary.
MARY PORTER
Right you are my love. ROY PORTER Yes sir, what can I get you?
ANGEL
Could I have a glass of the... cranberry juice please? ROY PORTER Certainly. Now, you wouldn’t, by any chance, be the new policeman? ANGEL Police officer, yes. My name is Nicholas Angel.
ROY PORTER
Thought so. I’m Roy Porter and this is my wife Mary.
MARY PORTER
Welcome to Sandford. If there’s anything you need, let us know.
ANGEL
Thanks. Could I borrow your paper?

ANGEL points to a ’SANDFORD CITIZEN’ on the bar.
MARY PORTER
It’s not ours love.
ROY PORTER
Not big fans of the local fishwrapper, are we Mare? They listed her age as 55.
MARY PORTER
-when I’m actually 53.
ROTUND DRINKER
Pint of lager, please Mary.
MARY PORTER
Right you are my love.
INT. THE CROWN - NIGHT
ANGEL sits on a stool at the bar reading the paper - (Headlines read ’MYSTERY SURROUNDS PROPOSED BIPASS’) A suspiciously young laugh draws ANGEL’s attention. Some drinkers at the bar look very fresh faced. Others drink beer through straws. Another drinker guffaws, his BRACES glint. ANGEL is dazzled. He looks to a sign reading ’IT IS ILLEGAL TO SELL ALCOHOL TO ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18’.
INT. THE CROWN - CONTINUOUS ANGEL strides over to the table of straw drinkers. ANGEL Excuse me. When’s your birthday? YOUNGSTER 22nd of February. ANGEL What year? YOUNGSTER Every year. ANGEL Okay. Get out. JUMPCUT. ANGEL talks to the YOUNGSTER with terrible acne. YOUNGSTE 2 Eighth of May, 1968. ANGEL You’re 37? YOUNGSTER 2 ...Yeah. ANGEL Get out. JUMPCUT. A high voiced YOUNGSTER with braces. YOUNGSTER 3 Ummm... ANGEL Out. ROY PORTER Is there a problem officer? ANGEL Yes there is. An awful lot of your patrons appear to be underage Mr. Porter. ROY PORTER Well, a few of them may be a month or two south of proper. But if they’re in here, it stops them getting into trouble out there- 17. MARY PORTER -doing their business in the street, having fisticuffs, nicking trafflc conesROY PORTER The way we see it, it’s all about the greater good. MARY PORTER ...the greater good. ANGEL That may be, but the law’s the law. They’ll all have to go. MARY PORTER/ROY PORTER Oh. EXT. THE CROWN - NIGHT A grumbling group of teens stomp out of the pub. INT. THE CROWN - NIGHT ANGEL is sat back at the bar. The pub is now almost empty. The PORTERS are not so cheery now. ROY PORTER Another cranberry juice? ANGEL I’m fine thank you. EXT. THE CROWN - NIGHT ANGEL strolls out of the pub and walks past the fountain. He tosses a coin in and takes time to observe the plague; ’This fountain was generously’restored with funds raised by Mr F. Butterman, Mrs J. Cooper, Mr R. Hatcher, Miss A. Paver...’ A metallic scratching distracts ANGEL. He sees the ROTUND DRINKER trying to put his key in the lock of an ASTRA. ANGEL I hope you’re not thinking of driving that. 18. ROTUND DRINKER Nope. The ROTUND ERINKER stumbles away from the car. ANGEL turns back and notices that the plague has been vandalised with a marker pen graffiti tag which appears to be a ’G’. An engine revs behind ANGEL. He jumps back as the ASTRA reverses into the fountain with a resounding crash. He storms over to the driver’s door and hauls the ROTUNO DRINKER out, who immediately and loudly throws up. ANGEL I’m taking you down the station... Where is it? ANGEL escorts the ROTUND DRINKER by the collar. Up ahead, the underage drinkers pisses in the street. ANGEL coughs.
UNDERAGE DRINKER
What?
INT. SANDFORD STATION/FRONT OFFICE - NIGHT
ANGEL strides in with the ROTUND DRINKER and the UNDERAGE DRINKER. He has also picked up three other underage drinkers, two scuffed from brawling and one with a traffic cone on his head. He flashes his card to a cheery DESK SERGEANT.
DESK SERGEANT
Sergeant Nicholas Angel? When did you start?
ANGEL
Tomorrow.
DESK SERGEANT
I see you’ve already arrested the whole village.
ANGEL
Not exactly.
The DESK SERGEANT looks to the ROTUND DRINKER and laughs. The ROTUNE DRINKER stumbles over to a connecting door.
DESK SERGEANT
You in for the night? Four’s free.
ANGEL
I need to talk to him.
DESK SERGEANT
He’ll be no use til the morning. Do you really want to process this lot? My pen’s running out.
ANGEL
Not a problem.
ANGEL retrieves two pens from his pocket. Cue FLASHCUTS of detainees being processed, fingerprints taken, heights measured; (the TRAFFIC CONE kid is unable to remove his headgear until ANGEL comes in to do it).
INT. SWAN HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
ANGEL lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
INT. SWAN HOTEL ROOM - MORNING
JUMP CUT to the next morning. The bed is empty.
EXT. HIGH STREET - MORNING
ANGEL in sweats, jogs out of the hotel. In the daylight, Sandford looks beautiful and idyllic. JOYCE COOPER is up a ladder, watering her hanging baskets. She greets ANGEL cheerily. He passes other early birds who do the same; a FEMALE NEWSAGENT setting out her paper stand, a EOOKISH WOMAN on a bicycle, a cheery VICAR, a dishy DOCTOR. ANGEL sees the crashed ASTRA being towed away by a removal vehicle operated by two GRUFF LOOKING MEN. They nod to him.
MAN (O.S.)
Lock me up?
Another jogger stops by ANGEL. He has a ready smirk and a confident air. He wears a ’SANDFORD FUN RUNNERS’ t-shirt.
ANGEL
Sorry?
MAN
I’m a slasher and I must be stopped.
ANGEL
You’re a what?
MAN
A slasher...of prices. I’m joking of course. I’m Simon Skinner, I run the local Super Marche. Pop in some time, my discounts are criminal. Catch me later.
SKINNER accelerates into a sprint, leaving a bemused ANGEL at the door of his hotel. ANGEL strides inside.
INT. SANDFORD FRONT OFFICE - MORNING
ANGEL strides into the station, now in full uniform. The same DESK SERGEANT is there as before. Although he is now sour faced and has curly hair. ANGEL is a tad confused.
ANGEL
Morning Sergeant. Have you done something with your hair?
DESK SERGEANT
No.
ANGEL
Well, could you tell Inspector Butterman that I’ve arrived?
DESK SERGEANT
No.
ANGEL
Why?
DESK SERGEANT
He’s not in yet.
ANGEL
I see. How’s our guest?
DESK SERGEANT
Guest?
ANGEL
The inebriate in cell four.
DESK SERGEANT
I dunno. Nobody tells me nothing.

ANGEL walks over to Cell Four and looks through the observation hatch. Panic spreads across his face.

ANGEL
Can I get cell four open?

DESK SERGEANT (O.S.)
Danny, can you open four?
ANGEL
Quickly please?
DESK SERGEANT (O.S.)
Quickly...please!
An OFFICER opens the cell. ANGEL walks in to find it empty.
ANGEL
He’s gone.
OFFICER
Oh my god? Who’s gone?
We see that the OFFICER is the ROTUND DRINKER.
ANGEL
Why are you dressed as a police officer?
OFFICER
Because I am one? A jovial man enters the cell in senior officer’s garb.
FRANK
Sergeant Angel, at last. I see you’ve already met my boy.
INT. FRANK’S OFFICE - DAY
FRANK’s office is adorned with CERTIFICATES, including ’VILLAGE OF THE YEAR’ plagues, along with a POLICE a glass case and two mounted ANTIQUE PISTOLS. We also see a photo of a younger FRANK and DANNY dressed as cowboys and a middle aged woman dressed as a sguaw.
FRANK
Do forgive me. I’m something of a wild west nut. Speaking of which, that was a fair few outlaws you rounded up last night. ANGEL
Thank you sir.
FRANK
I admire your enthusiasm Nicholas and far be it from me to stifle your flair, but this isn’t London.
ANGEL
With respect sir, geographical location shouldn’t factor in the application of the law.
FRANK
But coming in all guns blaring can sometimes exacerbate matters, you know make things worse?
ANGEL
I’m aware of the meaning of exacerbate, sir.
FRANK
Of course you are. Statistically, Sandford is the safest village in the country but that doesn’t mean it reguires anything less than a careful and considered approach. There’s a reason we accommodate a few of the younglings at the pub.
ANGEL
The greater good?
FRANK
The greater good. Precisely! Your predecessor assumed rural policing was easy. Ended up having a nervous breakdown. And Sgt. Popwell was an exceptional officer, truly exceptional. And he had one thing you haven’t got.
ANGEL
What’s that sir?
FRANK
A great big bushy beard! Come on. Let’s have a mosey around.

INT. STATION - DAY
FRANK shows ANGEL the locker room. DANNY lags behind. FRANK
Locker room.
FRANK opens a door on a musty collection of riot gear.
FRANK (CONT’D)
Riot room.
A HEDGEHOG is startled by the rare intrusion. FRANK approaches another door with a security keypad.
FRANK (CONT’D)
Evidence room.

FRANK opens the evidence locker. It’s surprisingly empty.
FRANK (CONT’ D}
Now, how about a trip to the Andes? FRANK leads them to a door marked ’C.I.D’. Inside are two thirty something plain clothes officers with cropped hair, and tashes. On their small desk are two plates of cake.
FRANK
Detective Sergeant Wainwright and Detective Constable Cartwright.
CARTWRIGHT and WAINWRIGHT stare back at ANGEL with disdain.
FRANK (CONT’D)
Don’t get up. They leave and continue down the corridor.
FRANK
I suspect you’re wondering why we call them the Andes.
ANGEL
Because they’re both called Andrew?
FRANK
They said you were good.
DANNY
It’s also because talking te them is a uphill struggle, innit Dad?

A wastepaper basket sails out of the Andes office and hits Danny on the head.
DANNY (cont’d)
Oh fuck off?
FRANK
Thank you Danny.
A battered tin reads ’SWEARBOX’. DANNY dreps a quid in.
FRANK (O.S.)
The swearbox. All proceeds to the restoration of the church roof.

FRANK shows ANGEL into the operations room, where uniformed officers bunch together at oramped desks.
FRANK
And this is where it all happens.

We hear a solitary Apple start-up chime.
FRANK (cont’d)
That’s Sergeant Tony Fisher...

FISHER (40’s) reedy, fixed grin, eating cake.

FRANK (cont’d)
... that’s PC Bob Walker...

WALKER (50’s) bald, grizzled with cake in his hands.

WALKER
Pleshnrertoaveyeenbordsarg.

FRANK (cont'd)
... and that is Saxon.

A large Alsatian barks.

FRANK
And this is one Doris Thatcher.
DANNY
She’s our only police woman.
ANGEL
She’s not a police woman.
DANNY
She is. I’ve seen her bra.
ANGEL
She’s a police officer, being a woman has nothing to do with it.
DORIS THATCHER
Oh, I don’t knew. It comes in handy every so often.
The rosy faced officer winks lewdly at a blushing ANGEL.
DORIS THATCHER (cont’d)
I could’ve given you the tour. I’ve been round the station a few times.
The office erupts into bawdy cheers. ANGEL is keen to move on.

ANGEL
What’s upstairs?

Frank opens the door, marked ’N.W.A’.  A little besuited man in a room full of monitors. On the table is a plate of chocolate cake.
WEAVER
Well, well, well, I see we have Visitors.
FRANK
Nicholas, this is Tom Weaver.
WEAVER
Civilian liaison for the Neighbourhood Watch at your service.
ANGEL
Good to meet you.
WEAVER
You’ll find we run a tight ship here. Got everyone linked up with a walkie so we can keep each other abreast of any misadventure.  I can see what the whole village is up to. I must say I was rather admiring your handiwork last night.

Chuckling WEAVER cues up CCTV footage of ANGEL’s run-ins. We also see footage of HOODIES huddled around the fountain.

WEAVER
(cont’d) Shame you couldn’t have done the same with those bloody hoodies. Hanging around. Loitering. Sitting.
ANGEL
I did notice some minor graffiti on the fountain.
WEAVER
Graffiti? I knew they were up to something! They need to be dealt with Frank?
FRANK
They’re nippers Tom. They’ll come round.
WEAVER
Which reminds me, our friend the living statue’s back. He was there Saturday.
WEAVER flicks through CCTV printouts of a street performer dressed as a STATUE. They are all identical.
WEAVER (cont’d)
Look 11am, 12pm, lunchtime, 2pm. If we don’t come down hard on these clowns, we’ll be up to our balls in jugglers.
FRANK
Perish the thought.
WEAVER I tried to move him on myself but it cost me twenty quid in fifty pees and took four hours.
FRANK
We’ll get right onto it, Tom.
They leave. FRANK scrunches up the printouts into a hall, and throws it to DANNY, who heads it into the bin.

FRANK
(cont’d) And that’s that. Unless there’s anything you’re unclear about?
ANGEL
There is sir. Why is everyone eating chocolate cake?
FRANK
The Black Forest Gateaux is on Danny. As punishment for his little indiscretion.
ANGEL
I Wouldn’t call driving under the influence a ’little indiscretion’,  sir. Besides, where’s the disciplinary value if Constable Butterman gets to partake of the Gateaux as well? He’s having his cake and eating it. Literally.
FRANK
(chuckles) The gateau is for misplacing his helmet the other week. Last night’s incident will require something much more serious.
ANGEL
Good.
FRANK
Do you like ice cream?
ANGEL
I’m sorry, I don’t follow sir.
FRANK
Let’s just say we won’t be short of Chunky Monkey for the next month.
The officers cheer. ANGEL visibly sags.
FRANK
(cont’d) Well, since it’s your first day and it’s half past eleven, I’d say that’s lunch.
Another cheer from the assembled officers.
INT. THE CROWN - DAY
ANGEL is sat at a pub table with the other officers (only he wears a stab vest). DANNY brings pints to everyone but ANGEL, who has a cranberry juice. SAXON laps at a bowl of lager
FISHER
Sooooo, what made you choose Sandford Sergeant Angel?
ANGEL It wasn’t actually my choice.
FISHER
Wasn’t your choice to come down here and show me how to do my job. Our jobs.
WALKER
Yooceetyboisefinkdeynobettarrr.
There’s a murmur of agreement. ANGEL is a little confused.
ANGEL
I can assure you it wasn’t my intention to upset the apple cart.
CARTWRIGHT
Yeah, cos we all sell apples down here, don’t we?
DANNY
Your Dad sells apples Andy.
CARTWRIGHT
And raspberries.
WAINWRIGHT
I bet you can’t wait to jump into Sergeant Fopwell’s grave.
WAINWRIGHT swigs Guinness, the head collects on his lip.
ANGEL
I’m not jumping in anyone’s grave. You have a moustache.
WAINWRIGHT
I know.
CARTWRIGHT
Why’ve you got your stab vest on? ANGEL It’s a requirement. FISHER In the city maybe. No-one’s going to stab you in here sergeant, not a member of the public anyhow. ANGEL Have you ever been stabbed Sergeant Fisher?
FISHER
No.
ANGEL
I have. And I can assure you it’s not the slightest bit amusing.
DANNY’s ears prick up, he looks to ANGEL with awe.
DANNY
Have you seen a lot of action Sergeant Angel?
ANGEL
I’ve experienced my fair share, yes.
DANNY
Were you part of an armed response unit?
ANGEL
Yes, for two years. Grave.
DANNY
Did you cook any fools?
ANGEL
Excuse me?
DANNY
Did you shoot anybody?
CARTWRIGHT
Shot someone? He killed someone.
DANNY
No way, that’s amazing.
ANGEL
It was not amazing, it was extremely regrettable, but the situation left me with no choice.
DANNY
Who did you shoot?
WAINWRIGHT He shot a crack-head with a Kalashnikov. DANNY Wow. Where d’you get that? .
ANGEL
The offender had the Kalashnikov.
DANNY
Wow. Where’d he get that?
WAINWRIGHT
You do know there are more guns in the country than in the city?
CARTWRIGHT
Everyone and their mum’s packing round here.
ANGEL
Really, like who?
CARTWRIGHT nods to a tall, ruddy, farmer at the bar.
CARTWRIGHT
Farmers.
ANGEL
Anyone else?
CARTWRIGHT
Farmer’s mums.
DANNY pulls his chair closer to the bemused ANGEL.
DANNY
What’s it like being stabbed?
ANGEL
It was the single most painful experience of my life.
DANNY
Wow. What’s the second most painful?