Ashes to Ashes, Series 1

Gene Hunt:
Today, my friend, your diary entry will read: took a prozzie hostage, and was shot by three armed bastards.

Gene Hunt:
Blimey, if that skirt was hitched any higher I could see what you had for breakfast. Ray, cuff this nancy berk. Chris, look after the lady. Classiest prozzie I've seen all week!

Alex Drake:
[recognising her rescuers] DC Chris Skelton?

Chris Skelton:
[surprised] Roger that.

Alex Drake:
DS Ray Carling? [Ray, busy beating up a suspect, looks up] Gene Hunt!? [Alex faints in shock]

Gene Hunt:
My reputation precedes me!

Gene Hunt:
[after rescuing a dazed Alex from being run over] Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much paperwork there is for suicides?

Alex Drake:
[to Gene Hunt] Just look at me! Look at me! I am trained to get inside the criminal mind. And now I'm stuck in my own - with you!

Alex Drake:
You're taller than I imagined.

Gene Hunt:
I'm bigger in every department.

Alex Drake:
[feeling Gene's heart beat] My God, it's real.

Gene Hunt:
[slaps his hand on her breast] Fan-dabi-dozi. Now then, Bollingerknickers? You gonna kiss me? Or punch me?

Gene Hunt:
Don't waggle your fingers when you say my name.

Alex Drake:
Well, you're not going to keep me here for seven years. I'm going home. I'm going to my little girl's birthday party.

Gene Hunt:
You're pissed.

Alex Drake:
And you... are a bloody figment.

Gene Hunt:
You're very pissed.

Alex Drake:
I'm going to be sick.

Gene Hunt:
Doesn't surprise me.

Alex Drake:
I was supposed to go HOME!

Gene Hunt:
Your presence is required here a little bit longer... by me.

Alex Drake:
My name is Alex Drake. I've just been shot and that bullet has sent me back to 1981. I may be one second away from life, or one second away from death. They say that as you die your life flashes before you, all those memories and mistakes that form us. Well bring it on, my life can flash away as much as it wants because I'm not going to die. I'm coming back to you Molly.

Alex Drake:
Will you just shut up and listen to me! This is my bloody fantasy, and I will be listened to!

Gene Hunt:
Excuse my colleague. Education of a toff, manners of a sewer rat.

Gene Hunt:
[to Alex Drake] Take that seatbelt off! You're a police officer, not a bloody vicar.

Gene Hunt:
Personally I have no desire whatsoever to see your bony, privately-educated bottom, but it's good for morale.

Alex Drake:
A real, living, breathing Thatcherite businessman. How completely brilliant.

Gene Hunt:
Personal friend of the Great Handbag herself, so try and behave.

Alex:
I promise not to twang his red braces.

[the elevator doors open, revealing Danny Moore; Alex's eyes widen.]

Alex:
... more than once.

Gene Hunt:
We found a small amount of explosives on land near the Royal Docks.

Alex Drake:
Well, technically a small dog found it. He's an even smaller dog now.

Gene Hunt:
[after Shaz offers an opinion on the intended target of a bomb] When I need advice from a lobotomised Essex girl, I will ask for it!

Alex Drake:
Please?

Gene Hunt:
No.

Alex Drake:
I'll let you stamp my bum.

Gene Hunt:
I'll get my coat.

Gene Hunt:
DI Bollyknickers, you appear to be drunk in charge of a handbag and dressed like a tart again.

Alex Drake:
Oh, piss off, you lardy fascist!

Gene Hunt:
We'll make a copper of you yet.

[Chris is eating a kebab]

Chris Skelton:
Steady on, Guv! Nearly lost me breakfast then!

Gene Hunt:
What is that?

Chris Skelton:
It's a kebab.

Gene Hunt:
Looks like a bloody pasty with its arse hanging out!

Ryan Burns:
I am the vine! You are the branches! John, Chapter 15, Verse 5!

Gene Hunt:
You're nicked for the murder of Delphine Parks, the rape and attempted murder of Nina Akiboa. Anything you say will be taken down, ripped up and shoved down your scrawny little throat until you're choked to death. Gene Hunt, Chapter 1, Verse 2.

Alex Drake:
Be honest, Viv. How do I look?

Viv James:
Uh, fine.

Alex Drake:
Thank you. Word of advice? Don't bother with poker.

Gene Hunt:
An agency girl that accuses a client of rape, that's going to go down about as well as a pork pie at a Jewish wedding.

Alex Drake:
When they say it's difficult for rape victims to be believed, I wonder why?

Gene Hunt:
She gets paid for having sex.

Alex Drake:
It's not about sex, is it? It's about control, and power, and revenge.

Gene Hunt:
Maybe tell me about it some other time, like when I'm in a coma, or when I'm dead.

Alex Drake:
To the interview room? Where's the rape suite?

Gene Hunt:
Rape suite? Is that with or without a minibar?

Alex Drake:
This requires a cognitive interview procedure.

Gene Hunt:
We're fresh out of cognitives. What say we just talk to her?

Alex Drake:
I don't think she'll open up with a man present.

Gene Hunt:
Plenty of women have opened up to me without so much as a shandy down their necks.

[After Alex enters Gene's office, having spent the night drinking and having sex, following a failed attempt at seduction on Gene]

Gene Hunt:
I am trying to help you here!

Alex Drake:
Well I don't need your help! Their archaic attitude is their problem, not mine!

Gene Hunt:
Wrong. It's my problem. To keep this department running smoothly, I need their respect, which I've got. They look up to me, they should be looking up to you and all!

Alex Drake:
What do you want me to do, morph into a nun!? IT'S NOT LIKE I'VE SHAGGED AN ENTIRE RUGBY TEAM, IS IT!?

Ray Carling:
[outside] I'll bet she has. [the rest of CID laugh]

Alex Drake:
It's your fault, anyway!

Gene Hunt:
How is it my fault!?

Alex Drake:
Because you left me on my own, and I ended up with some Thatcherite wanker!

Gene Hunt:
I told you to go to bed, alone! If you'd listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be wasting my time, having this ridiculous conversation!

[After Gene questions Alex's insistence on warning prostitutes of a killer on the loose]

Alex Drake:
The skeleton in the closet. Private education, years at Oxbridge, all counted for nothing really, because I, Alex Drake, was once a prostitute.

Chris Skelton:
Bloody hell!

Ray Carling:
[chuckles] I knew it!

Alex Drake:
There, I've said it.

Ray Carling:
[chortles] Christ on a bike!

Alex Drake:
That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

Gene Hunt:
You're telling me you lied to get onto the force?

Alex Drake:
No, actually. What I just told you was a lie. I did it to show you how your preconceptions can inform your judgements about other people, especially prostitutes. Sorry.

Gene Hunt:
You know, sometime I hate you, Drake.

Alex Drake:
[chuckles] So I'm not what you'd expect a prostitute to be? If I said I'd been raped, you'd believe me but not someone like Trixie, not a woman like that?

Gene Hunt:
No, not hate, despise.

Alex Drake:
Alright, so I'm not a hooker. But if I was, do you know something, Gene? You could never, ever afford me!

Gene Hunt:
You know, you might talk with a plum in your gob, love, but I would rather go with one of them [gestures to a number of prostitutes in the background] than waste my money on some bitter, twisted, messed-up, clenched-arsed, toffee-nosed bitch like you! [Alex slaps him] You feel better now?

Alex Drake:
No. [she punches Gene in the mouth] Better now. [to an astounded Chris and Ray] Come on, ladies, what are you waiting for!? Let's get pissed!

Gene Hunt:
Right! How many birds does it take to screw in a light bulb? Two! One to run around screaming "What do I do?" and one to shag the electrician!

Alex Drake:
You're so naive.

Gene Hunt:
And you're pissing me off!

Alex Drake:
Artemis. Goddess of the hunt. Good work, Viv.

Ray Carling:
That you, is it? Goddess of the Hunt?

Chris Skelton:
Sounds like a potent symbol of female power.

Gene Hunt:
Contrary to what Commie nutters like the RWF believe, and what you seem to have forgotten, this is the land of bloody democracy! Land of Hope and Glory! Rule Britannia! Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pud!

Gene Hunt:
Oh dear Lord, if this is a test, I fear I may fail. And I thought it would be the booze or the fags but oh no! I'm gonna die in an underground vault, in the company of a posh, mouthy tart with a head full of brains and the common sense of a grain weevil.

Gene Hunt:
Very nice, very poppy. Don't expect me to dance, though.

Gene Hunt:
I am trying to find out who murdered this man. If that makes me a fascist, then "Heil bloody Hilter!"

[Alex, Gene, Chris and Ray have walked into a hotel room minutes after Neary has had gay sex. Chris opens up a briefcase that turns out to be full of sex toys. He holds up a dildo and inspects it.]

Chris Skelton:
He must have bloody big ears.

Alex Drake:
Wrong orifice, Chris. It's a butt plug.

['Chris looks at it, still puzzled.]

Gene Hunt:
It goes up your arse, Chris!

[Gene mistakenly believes that Alex was a hooker after she explains her cover for an investigation, and after setting him straight says he might have 'fancied a punt'.]

Alex Drake:
Hang on, hang on! Now this is worth getting straight. I'm imagining you, imagining paying for sex with me, in my imaginary role, as an imaginary street whore.

Gene Hunt:
You must have a filthy mind.

Alex Drake:
Like an absolute sewer, apparently.

Gene Hunt:
You know some people get Pick Of The Pops, I get Pick Of The Twats [Looks at Chris]

Gene Hunt:
Oh ye of little faith.

Chris Skelton:
All hail the mighty Quattro.

Alex Drake:
Excuse me, THAT is evidence!

Gene Hunt:
Wouldn't worry about it, 'cause you're off the case.

Alex Drake:
Oh, off the case?!

Gene Hunt:
Off the case and off the team.

Alex Drake:
Ooh, off the team?

Gene Hunt:
Yes! Actually no, you can clean my car out.

Alex Drake:
I'm off the team. [Turns to leave]

Gene Hunt:
Well, you're back on it!

Gene Hunt:
Drake, I want you making my car smell nice again. Drake, get back here! Drake! What are you ...? You're off the team!

[Gene has just rescued an unconscious Alex.]

Gene Hunt:
[Opening her shirt] I've bloody dreamt about doing this.

[Gene begins to give chest compressions to Alex]

Gene Hunt:
Don't you dare!

[Gene checks to see if she is breathing. Realizing she is not, he goes to give her mouth to mouth. Right before he can do it, she wakes up]

Alex Drake:
[Putting her hand on Gene's face, obviously dazed] I figured it out. I made the connections, and, I solved it. And you saved me. And if you saved me, maybe I can save them.

Gene Hunt:
[Putting his hand on Alex's head] Yeah, I think it's called concussion.

Alex Drake:
The mind's an amazing organ...

Gene Hunt:
I've got an amazing organ.

Alex Drake:
... capable of much more than you could imagine.

Gene Hunt:
Right again.

[Gill Hollis is shooting at the CID]

Gene Hunt:
[running] Get in, quick!

Chris Skelton:
Get back, we're under attack!

Luigi:
What do you mean, attack!?

[The CID run through the door. Gene falls on top of Alex]

Luigi:
Shoot at my place! Bloody bastids!

[Suddenly, the shooting stops]

Alex Drake:
It's stopped.

Gene Hunt:
Shh, shh, shh... Chris! Give us a gun!

Chris Skelton:
Oh shit, I must have left it in the car...

Gill Hollis:
Hunt! Hunt, come out and face me!

Gene Hunt:
Well what a surprise. It's that lovely lad who does the charity work.

Alex Drake:
Well get off me then!

[Gene gets off of Alex. They sit up and realize one of the bullet holes lines up perfectly with her head]

Alex Drake:
I propose, that given your reaction to the gender balance of the gang, that this is their first job.

Gene Hunt:
What, New Kids On The Block?

Alex Drake:
Now that's a good name for a boy band!

Sharon 'Shaz' Granger:
Gov.

Gene Hunt:
Chris, Take That! It's the dodgy second hand car dealers. East 17!

Chris Skelton:
Alright, Backstreet Boys.

Ray Carling:
Yeah, let's get 'em Busted!

Alex Drake:
Ooh God! I'm gonna scream!

Gene Hunt:
All right, I'm putting a end to this.

Alex Drake:
No, no, you can't go!

[Alex grabs Gene's hand]

Alex Drake:
Somebody is going to die!

Gene Hunt:
I am not going to die in a trattoria!

Gene Hunt:
[to Alex] You want a hunk of the Gene Genie in case the nasty man scares you?

Gene Hunt:
I want this place cleaner than a virgin's pudendum!

Chris Skelton:
What's a pudendum, Guv?

Gene Hunt:
You are, Chris! You are!

Alex Drake:
You still owe me dinner.

Gene Hunt:
What?

Alex Drake:
Tonight's my last night. So, that's it then. It's a date. Our last supper.

Gene Hunt:
Can I be Jesus?

Ray Carling:
Bloody hell, they have better dialogue on Dynasty!

Alex Drake:
[to Tom Robinson] I know you. You end up on Radio 6. You fall in love with a woman and have two kids.

Ray Carling:
Don't worry mate. She says stuff like that all the time.

Lord Scarman:
I've seen plenty, thank you! I've spent the night with a mentally ill man who thinks he's a police officer, who you now seem to be entrusting with actual police work. I've seen two of our most brilliant barristers treated with appalling disdain!

Gene Hunt:
I'm sure we can arrange a car to take Lord Scarman home.

Lord Scarman:
I've talked to several young, homosexual men, and heard their despair, their dreadful tales of police harassment.

Gene Hunt:
Put it all in your report, your Lordship!

Lord Scarman:
The police harassment of sexual and racial minorities is an endemic, ineradicable disease threatening the very survival of our society!

Gene Hunt:
[coldly] Catchy title. Got "Bestseller" written all over it. Now if you'll excuse me...! [turns away]

Lord Scarman:
I'll be keeping a beady eye on you, DCI Hunt! [Gene turns back to face him]

Gene Hunt:
Is that right!? Well you can take this home in your Harrods pipe and smoke it! In twenty years time, when the streets are awash with filth, and you're too frightened to leave your big, posh Belsize Park house after dark, don't come running to me, mate! Because I'll be in Alicante, oiled up, skin sizzling in the midday sun like a burnt sausage!

Lord Scarman:
If you're quite finished... ?

Gene Hunt:
No, not quite. You can despise us, you can disown us, you can even try and close us down, but you will never break us! We are police officers! We are brothers! We are UN-BLOODY-BREAKABLE! [all of CID cheers and applauds his words]

Gene Hunt:
How would you like to grow up knowing your daddy tried to blow you to kingdom come?

Gene Hunt:
[to a young Alex Drake] Bye, little lady. Any problems, you just call the Gene Genie.

Alex Drake:
How come you were there, taking the little girl's hand? That couldn't have happened. You weren't there. You're not real.

Gene Hunt:
I'm everywhere, Bolly. I was needed and I was there.

Gene Hunt:
Unbreakable, Bolly. Unbreakable. Unlike this bottle of wine which is undrinkable.

Alex Drake:
Can we concentrate please on the crimes he commits and not whose cock he sucks?

Alex Drake:
What am I doing here really? What is the point of all this?

Gene Hunt:
To dress like a tart. Wiggle your arse in my direction, and fill my days with glimpses of the depths of your depraved mind. It's good enough for me, Bolly.