The Sweeney1975

Det. Insp. Jack Regan:
I sometimes hate this bastard place! It's a bloody holiday camp for thieves and weirdos - all the rubbish. You age prematurely trying to sort some of them out. Try and protect the public, and all they do is call you fascist. You nail a villain and some ponced-up pinstripe Hampstead barrister screws it up like an old fag-packet on a point of procedure, then pops off for a game of squash and a glass of madeira. He's taking home thirty grand a year, and we can just about afford ten days in Eastbourne and a second-hand car. It's all bloody wrong, my son.