A Horse Called Alan Murder in Successville

This programme contains strong language

Hi, I'm Cammy, Chris Kamara.

You normally see me as a sports presenter

but today I'm going to take part in my very own cop drama.

I've no idea what's going to happen to me but wish me luck.

I'm on my way to Successville.

Welcome to Successville, a town full of celebrities,

sometimes the famous faces that live here break the law and when they do,

I get to take them down.

I'm DI Sleet, I'm named after shitty weather.

It rains murder on me every day.

And I don't use an umbrella because I like to feel the blood on my face.

I guess that's pretty weird.

Want to hear another weird thing?

As a little boy, I was in the Brownies.

-What's that?

-Oh, hello, chief.

Hi. What is that?

Well, it's a 1982 circa merchant ship from the Nigerian armada.

Wow. Good God. That's extraordinary.

-Thank you, sir.

-Look at the anchor.

-Yeah.

-Fuck me.

-Yeah, I've actually carved the anchor

from a dog's tooth.

That's so resourceful.

Well, that's what I am, resourceful and caring.

Say you've just been sitting in here when you've been paid to solve cases

to make this piece of crap?

-Yeah.

-You complete, fucking bell-end.

-I thought you were being too nice but...

-I've got you a new rookie.

-Oh, great, that's all I need.

-Get your finger out.

Some little princess who needs her their arse wiping.

This is your Princess, yes.

This hunking brute is DI Sleet.

Do the opposite of everything he tells you

and you might just get out of this alive. Fuck me.

Chris Kamara.

But you can call me Cammy.

I'll call you Kamara, thank you very much.

PC Kamara.

-Take a seat.

-I'm not PC, I'll tell you that.

-Oh, really?

-What?

The thing about this game, Chris,

is you got to be ready to destroy the things you love.

Take this. Like this with the butt up.

I want you to smash this to pieces.

I didn't think you'd actually do it like that.

I thought you'd stop before I had chance to...

You asked me to do it, guv.

I mean, how do you feel now?

-I feel good.

-Do you? I feel a bit lost.

Give me the gun. Come back, please. Thank you.

You can always count on me, guv.

Yeah. I can see that. You don't care about other people's things.

Right.

Yes. Trouble at mill.

Oh, what is it now?

Someone's iced Alan Shearer.

-The champion racehorse?

-I'm sorry, Sleet, the champion racehorse.

Well, look, there's no point sitting around moping, yes.

Yes, sir. Yes, chief.

I need you two to get your arses over to the stables, yes.

You might see an even bigger dick than yourselves.

You ready to jump on the wild horse that's called justice?

I'm with you, guv.

It's crime time and I'm leading the bus to Justiceville.

-Let's go solve...

-Give me a ticket.

Hey, you ruined that by interrupting.

-Give me a ticket.

-Well, you got a ticket that comes free of charge.

I'm with you all the way.

I like you, Chris.

I like you a lot.

Come on, Kamara.

Dammit.

Chris, grab the door.

Hey!

This is not a time for jokes, Kamara.

I'll take a pew, old friend.

He meant so much to you, didn't he?

He was the best friend a man could have.

I'm sorry that this has happened on your first day.

You'd have liked Alan. Do you like cheese and onion crisps?

I love cheese and onion crisps.

So did he. Did you like snooker, do you like snooker?

I love a game of snooker.

So did Alan.

Listen. You want to get some police work done?

We need to find the culprit.

Yeah, we do. Find him fast.

First port of call is that low-down piece of crap over there.

His jockey Tom Daley.

-Tom Daley.

-I need you to find out what you can.

And don't go easy on him, Kamara.

I need to see some fire from you.

I'll be over in a second.

Tom Daley.

What do you know about the murder of Alan Shearer?

-They poisoned him.

-How do you know that, Daley?

Cos they found high levels of toxins in his blood.

Have you got high levels of toxins in you, Daley?

No, just tea. Milk, no sugar.

I'll be the judge of that, Daley.

No, it's just tea, isn't it?

You're right on this occasion, Daley.

-But we're watching you.

-Hey, listen, I found this.

I'm not sure what it means.

What have we got here?

Take a look at this, Governor.

What is this? Was this in his things?

You were told to lose the race.

Is this from the Successville Gazette?

Whoever left that note obviously wanted to put the frighteners on me.

Really, why?

Why would they do such a thing?

What's this all about, Daley? What aren't you telling us?

OK, I was bribed to lose the race.

You dance with the Devil now a horse is dead.

Hold this cup of tea, Chris, because this is about to get physical.

Look, he was a born winner.

He won't lose a race cos of you!

He's better than you. Who gave you the bribe?

Bishop.

Bishop. It was John Bishop.

Well, you can send a message out to every grease bag and scallywag you know -

me and Kamara are coming for him.

And we're bringing justice with us.

-OK?

-Thank you, Sleet.

I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for a horse called Alan.

Come to his funeral. I'll be best man.

And I'll be wearing new socks.

-Don't be there. Don't be at his funeral.

-I'll be there,

-it'd be weird if I wasn't there...

-Don't you dare.

Don't eat all the vol-au-vents -

me and Chris will be hungry. So leave some for someone else.

-Don't be selfish with the vol-au-vents.

-OK.

Don't finger all the sandwiches.

Have you got anything to say to him?

After that line, no.

Or maybe just push against the wall before we go.

No, don't do that.

Good push, Kamara. See you around, Daley, you freak.

My beloved Alan had been slaughtered for winning.

Daley tipped us off that sports promoter John Bishop was involved

and like a nervous guy at a sex party,

I just watched as Kamara got stuck in.

OK, Chris. What can you see on his desk?

A copy of the Daily Bugle.

Check the drawers, what's in there?

Oh, look at this, guv.

-What is it, Chris?

-Dollars.

And loads and loads of them.

Chris, look behind the desk.

-There's a holdall.

-Take it all.

All of it. There's something at the top, Kamara.

I can see it from here.

It's a betting slip. Name, Cara Delevingne.

2:30. Dentist time, guv.

Oh, 2:30. Ha-ha.

That's one of your jokes I actually get.

Oh, no, Chris, Bishop is coming back.

I repeat, Bishop is coming back.

-Bishop is coming back now?

-Chris, get under the desk.

I repeat, get under the desk. Take the bag with you.

Do not let him see the bag.

Oh, God, Chris, got him coming back, he does not look happy.

Listen, follow my lead. Whatever you do, follow my lead, Chris.

If he catches you, he'll kill you.

-SCOUSE ACCENT:

-Ey, there he is, Johnny Boy.

Looking good, mate.

Looking good. No, you're not.

You're pathetic.

Pathetic. No you're not, John.

Everybody likes you, you're a people person.

No, you're not. You're a low life scumbag, hustler.

You're a petty crook.

You're a hustler, John.

A hustler. I'm not.

I'm honest. I'm honest, John.

Oh, yeah? What are you going to do when people find out, John, hey?

What are you going to do about that? They won't find out, John.

Yes, they will. They're going to find out.

They're going to find out your dirty little secret, John.

What is going on in there?

You stupid twat.

-He's talking to himself.

-I'm sorry, John.

-He is crazy.

-What's that?

He heard you. Right, pretend you're a mouse.

-I repeat, pretend you're a mouse.

-Is there somebody there?

Squeak, squeak.

Did you hear that, John, eh? Even the mice are laughing at you.

Even the mice think you're a prick.

There's only one thing left to do.

Why don't you just kill yourself, John?

-What's he saying?

-He's going to kill himself.

What? Chris, you've got to stop him. You have to stop him.

-OK.

-Don't do it, John.

Who are you? Did they send you?

I'm coming, Chris,

I'm coming.

-Back off, mate, or I'll kill you.

-You wouldn't do that, John.

I would, don't even cross me, mate. I'm telling you I would do.

-I can see it in your eyes, you're not a killer.

-I am. I am a killer.

Who the fuck is that? Sleet.

What are you doing here, Sleety?

That asthma again, guv?

-What did he say to you?

-So many stairs.

What are you saying? Something about the stairs, is it?

Can't you get a lift?

There's a lift.

-Where?

-Next to the stairs.

-Is there?

You should have just said that, you know, Sleety. I didn't know

this was your mate. You could have told me,

it would have been all right. How are ya, mate?

-You're looking good, have you been to...?

-Shut up.

Don't screw up your face like that. You look like a ball bag.

-What are you talking about?

-You look a ball bag.

You look like a pair of testicles. Your face does.

I don't need me confidence knocking right now, you know.

-I'm feeling foul.

-Really? Maybe what you need is him to throw

some questions at you.

-All right, then, go on.

-Did you kill the horse, Alan Shearer?

Did I kill Alan Shearer?

You should be asking Cara Delevingne.

She's the one that paid me to fix the race.

Yeah. She had a load of money on Peter Crouch

but he didn't come first.

He came second. Second.

I'm telling you, Sleety.

There's a storm coming.

Yeah, you know what the storm's name is?

DI Sleet.

And Chris Kamara. And it's coming for you.

Ow!

Sleet takes Bishop.

Give him a little kick.

-Hey, Kamara. Grab the bag of money.

-Yeah, go on, get out.

Thanks for nothing.

Cara Delevingne.

One of the Delevingne clan.

They made all their money in pharmaceuticals

and are worth billions.

That's right, let's go.

Let's go for it, guv.

Miss Delevingne, thank you for coming in. We are Successville PD.

I'm sure you know who I am.

Well, well, well.

-If it isn't DI Sleet.

-Listen.

We have information that you placed a rather substantial,

large big bet on the racehorse that was Peter Crouch.

Must have been a little devastating when he lost.

I don't know what the hell you're talking about.

Seriously, this is so lame.

If you don't let me out of here,

I'll get my daddy to buy this entire police station and turn it into the

Museum of DI Sleet's tiny penis.

Well, I think on walking into the museum

that you might find that the...

it was in fact bigger than you might think it is.

-Would I?

-Yeah, you would.

I can imagine you think I have a tiny penis.

Would I be in for a massive shock?

-Yes, you would.

-Really?

-A massive shock.

What, just no penis at all?

What? No, I do have a penis.

Nothing. Just smooth.

No, it's not smooth. I'm not a eunuch.

Have you seen my governor's penis?

-Hey. Let's just leave...

-Sorry, who gave you permission to speak?

-Did you give him permission to speak?

-He's allowed to speak...

-Who even is he?

-This is Christopher Kamara.

Are you even qualified to be here?

Yes, he is. He's my rookie.

-Oh, dear.

-I'm with him.

Yeah. Listen.

-Madame-muzz-well.

-Madame-muzz-well?

Have you been to school?

-Madame-muzz-well, that's French, right?

-Mademoiselle?

-Mademoiselle.

-Have you even been to France?

-Yes.

-When?

I don't know what you're laughing at.

When I'm laughing, I'm serious.

-That's a weird thing to say.

-That's incredibly weird.

Right, let's get back to why you're here.

Go on, gladly.

What do you know about the death of Alan Shearer?

I know nothing about horses.

Do I look like I give a shit about horses?

I mean, is this seriously the best you can do?

Don't you have to pass some sort of fitness exam to get into the police?

Yeah, I passed it with flying colours.

I was top of my class.

In what? Having type I diabetes?

Type what? Stuffing your face with cake?

-Rolling down a hill?

-Well, actually, I'm very good

at rolling down a hill.

Yeah, it's about all you can muster.

Governor's cutting down. He only had five meals today.

How dare you, Chris.

I was... How dare you.

I was watching you, guv.

You...

I'm sorry, Miss Delevingne, you must think we're a pair of clowns

-but we have intelligence...

-Of course I do.

We have intelligence.

I doubt that very much.

-What?

-I doubt that you have any intelligence between you at all.

You see, I get things done my way, OK?

When I was six years old,

I forced my nanny to undergo months of plastic surgery

to make her look like a mermaid.

By the time the procedure was completed and her tail was

attached, I'd grown bored of mermaids so, naturally, she hanged.

Sounds a bit fishy to me, guv.

Was that an attempt at a joke?

I think it was. He does that to try and lighten the mood.

It was absolutely terrible.

Yeah? It reminds me of a story of my own.

When I was a young boy I had a friend, he was a robot,

called Bobby. Made him out of small shoeboxes and a matchbox.

One day I came home from school

and my dad had thrown Bobby into the garden.

He said that Bobby was a telltale and an idiot.

-Bob.

-He said he was a what?

He said that Bobby was a telltale tit.

He said Bobby was no good and was a telltale tit.

I remember looking from my bedroom window as the rain fell down on Bobby's carcass.

Then, I got all got all his soggy remains and I put them on my pillow.

God, you're disgusting.

-What?

-Absolutely disgusting.

That story makes me feel physically sick.

How dare you!

How dare you!

-Steady, guv.

-No.

I can't take it any more.

-It's only words.

-A barrage of insults.

-I've never seen you so angry, guv.

-I've never been so angry, Chris.

Can I have a word with my sidekick?

Oh, God. I want to cry, Chris.

-I want to cry.

-You do realise I can hear you?

-No, I thought if...

-And if you are going to cry,

are you going to cry tears of gravy, you fat, fucking pig?

Chris, I need to take five minutes out of here.

I'll sort everything out here - don't worry.

All right. Listen, whatever happens - do not let her leave.

-OK, toilet mouth.

-Sorry.

-It's just me and you.

-I can't make out a word.

-Use those things on the side of your head.

-Side of your...

-Toilet mouth.

-Toilet...

I'll ask you one more time.

Did you have a bet on...

-Oh, hi, there!

-..on Peter Crouch.

-Hi.

Sorry I'm late. So sorry to interrupt.

I'm Miss Delevingne's lawyer. David Tennant.

Who invited you in, Mr Tennant?

-Oh, I'm her lawyer, so it's my right to come in here...

-Yeah.

..whenever I want, isn't it? How are you doing, chicken?

I'm absolutely fine, thank you.

Right, baby. Oh, yeah. Now, listen - you've been talking to my client

without me present. That's not great, is it?

Considering there's no evidence to keep her here,

I do need you to sign this little release form.

It's just to say that she can go.

We can be on our way and then you don't need to worry about it any more.

-Is that OK with you?

-I just need to ask her a few more questions.

-Yeah, well, just sign it there at the bottom, if you could.

-Not yet, Mr Tennant.

All right, I won't bother with the form but I'll tell you what I do have in here.

My nephew's quite a big fan of yours.

Would you mind just giving me your autograph?

Yeah, here you go. There it is. Just stick it on the bottom of that piece...

Oh, is it on that release form again?

-Yes. Yeah.

-What a joker you are!

It looks like it, doesn't it? But it's not.

His name is Release Form.

-Will you not sign it? It's for my nephew. Do you not like kids?

-I love children.

-Oh, do you?

-Oh, OK, that's interesting.

-Oh, my God! You love children.

-I'll have to remember that.

-There's something weird about that, isn't there?

-That is pretty weird.

Did you just touch me under the table?

-Yeah.

-He just touched me under the table!

-He just took my trousers off.

-He took her trousers off.

-I'm naked.

-Sign the form.

But I've got to admire your acting. It sounded really good.

And you - with your trousers?

Oh, we're talking about her trousers again?

For the record, Chris Kamara has started talking about my client's

trousers again and is making a really weird creepy laugh.

HE LAUGHS

-You heard it.

-It is continuing.

-He's very, very...

-It's getting longer.

Chris, just sign the form. Come on.

-Hey, Dave.

-How's it going?

-Good to see you, pal.

-Good to see you.

-You well, my friend?

Sleet, I wanted to ask, by the way - do you mind just signing that quick for us?

-Of course.

-So are you coming to golf next week or not?

-Oh, yeah, I'd love to be there.

-Yeah, yeah.

-Good.

-Oh, fantastic.

-Guvnor, that's a release form.

Oh, oh! You just let my client go.

I can't believe you've done this to me again.

Goodbye! You are incredibly thick, aren't you?

Snidey little snake!

Is that invitation to golf even real?

No. I don't even play golf, Sleet. Come on, Cara.

Sit down, Kamara. Sit down.

-Don't blame me, guv.

-What do you mean, don't blame you?

Why did you let me sign that thing?

I was doing all right before you came in, guv.

I have never been so offended in my entire life.

I've told you before, guv - you don't get out enough.

Right, that's it!

We need to do something about this.

Let's bring down a wrecking ball.

Time to talk to Sheikh Kanye West.

He owned Peter Crouch, Shearer's main horsey rival.

He was a secretive, powerful man.

Gaining an audience with him was harder than swimming in skis.

Lucky I had a plan.

-Hey, budge up.

-Is that you, guvnor?

Hey. We need to give you a prostitute name.

Do you know how you do that?

What was the name of your first-ever pet?

-Kim.

-Kim?

And what was the reason you lost your first job?

-I was useless.

-OK, you will be known as Kim Useless.

My name is Crystal Meth.

OK, listen. You need to really ramp up the sexiness with your body,

cos he can't actually hear us.

So, like this.

God, I don't know if we're trying too hard.

I mean, I don't want to be those two girls in the club who everyone goes,

"Oh, look at those sluts."

-Oh, no, no.

-Let's try and be a bit classy.

-Competition's tough.

-It is. They're good-looking girls.

-But we...

-We're out on top.

Oh, just tell me, now, Chris, and be honest -

have I put too much make-up on?

Oh, don't be silly. This is the best I've ever seen you looking, guv.

Oh, thank you, Chris. That's a really sweet thing to say.

I felt so fat next to Roxanne.

-Now, look at her...

-If you wasn't a man, you'd be mine.

Oh, really?

THEY LAUGH

You are a cheeky little scamp, Kamara! I like it.

It's the way you say it, guv.

Hey, wait there! He's picked us.

Oh, yes. YES!

DANCE MUSIC

You like what you see?

Damn!

-Who are you?

-My name's Crystal Meth

and just like the name and the drug,

once you've had a taste of me,

you'll be addicted and all your teeth will fall out.

Yeah, I like that in a woman.

-How old are you?

-18.

18, huh?

-Yeah.

-You should probably know too that I ain't wearing any knickers.

I forgot them when I left the house.

I also forgot my watch.

Yeah, I like that. I love a dirty girl. Yeah.

Now this is my friend Kimberly Useless.

Oops. Look, I dropped my handkerchief.

Could you pick it up for me?

You get it, Kimberly, because I have stiff knees and a bad back.

That's right. Stairway to heaven. Mmm!

Yeah! You know what? congratulations.

You two have won Sheikh Kanye's affections.

Please join me.

Oh, wow! What an invitation.

I can't believe we're such lucky girls.

-Oh, wow.

-All right, listen up.

It's time for business.

Now, kiss.

Well, there's...yeah, just another note that, um...

I mean that's obviously, completely real that...

You should know, Yeezy likes to see a lot of tongue.

-OK.

-Come on, guv. We'll get blown if we don't.

You seem a little bit too keen for this, Kamara,

to be completely honest with you, Kamara.

Kamara!

Yeah, grab that ass. Grab that ass!

-Oh, wow, this is a really good kiss.

-Yeah, that's right, kiss her on the cheek.

-Wow, god, wow!

It's about time we did YOU rather than us.

Yeah, why don't you come sit on my lap, pretty girl?

-Me?

-Yeah.

-Me.

I want you to talk dirty to me.

Oh, I feel like I'm a lucky girl,

being invited onto such a manly lap.

Oh, I'm falling all over the place.

-Come on here, yeah.

-Oh. Oh.

Come sit on Kilimanjaro.

-Oh.

-Talk to me, baby.

Oh, you know who's really sexy?

-Who's that?

-Kim.

She's dirtier than me.

She's a dirty little bitch. Get over here, Kim, and say something filthy.

Can you handle the both of us?

You ain't seen nothing.

That's right. Come up on here.

-Oh, yeah.

-Come on, kitty cat.

HE MEOWS

-That's right.

-I'm a cat who bites back.

Hey, Kimberly, say something dirty.

You got a beautiful nose.

Yeah, that's right. I'm going to stick my nose all up in your ass.

-Oh, wow.

-Yeah. That's right.

-Look at those teeth.

-Yeah.

-Those teeth could do all sorts to my little titties.

-You ain't no idea.

-I'll bite them so soft.

Mmm! I'm ready. I'm waiting.

What's this I see? A little locket?

Oh, who's this little fella?

Yeah, that's my racehorse, Peter Crouch.

Yeah, he be winning races all the time.

Man, I love it when he win.

But when he lose, I take it badly.

Anyway, we'd better be off, actually.

Hey, wait, wait, wait, baby girl.

You can't go nowhere. I paid for all night.

-Can I have a second?

-Sure.

Just to confer with my prostitute sister.

-Yeah.

-Kamara.

Kim. As commanding officer,

I am going to have to take this one on the chin.

And on the back and in the hair.

-Yeah.

-So...

Go on, get out of here, little scamp.

-OK.

-OK.

I'll see you two later.

OK. Oh, wow.

You're really sexy.

Bye, baby. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Oh, I think we will.

'After a long shower and a little cry, we headed over to Alan's funeral.

'it was time to avenge his death with poisoned champagne.'

We were more than colleagues.

-We were friends.

-Tell us a story anyone will find interesting.

As you all know that I was very close to Alan and I know that he'd be...

-Alan hated you.

-Very pleased that his best friend could...

-Oh, shut up.

-No. I'm not going to shut up, because I'm his best friend.

Be quiet.

-I'll miss you, Alan.

-Right, that's it. I can't take any more of this crap.

-Out the way, Daley.

-But I haven't...

Shut up. Chris, would you hand around the glasses?

Um, I didn't have enough money for loads of champagne.

I only had enough for one bottle.

It's Alan's favourite champagne and it's from Turkey.

Enjoy. Hey, Chris, come and join me up here, old friend.

HE COUGHS

-Oh, God.

-Take your time. Take your time.

It's not easy.

HE GROANS

Take your time, guv.

OK. Oh, God, be a man.

Come on, you can do it. Don't judge me, Mummy.

Here, look. With your...your big old face...

I used to love when we played kiss chase.

HE GRUNTS LOUDLY

Is it OK if you finish this, Chris? I don't think I have it in me.

-Oh, God.

-I will miss our...

Guvnor, I forgot my glasses.

-What?

-I might be able to read it from back here, guv.

Are you...this is one of your jokes.

You choose here at Alan's... to crack one of your ludicrous jokes.

HE LAUGHS

Hold it together, Kamara.

What would you feel like if I laughed at your funeral?

I will miss our talks and your polo breath.

-Great words, guv.

-I haven't finished yet.

You just completely ruined the end of this poem.

Thank you, Kamara.

So we're going to raise our glasses. Chris, would you like to...

You say the toast. Alan would have liked that.

The king and the champion of all racehorses, Alan Shearer.

Alan. Don't toast. Don't you toast without a glass.

Put your hand down. Put it down.

What?

What's in that?

Is that cheap stuff? Eurgh!

Oh, sweet Jesus.

What is that?

That, sir, is a horse murderer.

-Says who?

-Says Chris Kamara.

The floor is yours.

-Kamara, tell him why.

-It had to be him, Chief.

Well, please enlighten me, Chris.

I went to his office.

In the office, guvnor, I found a betting slip

for Miss Delevingne.

Also in the drawer was a lot of money in the drawer

and Bishop was there to shoot himself.

-So what?

-His conscience was getting the better of him.

Oh, I see. His conscience, eh?

Well, I'm afraid, Chris,

that you've completely buggered up this investigation.

I hope you're feeling good about yourself.

The killer was not John Bishop.

It was Cara Delevingne.

Take her away, lads.

I'll be out by the end of the day. My daddy OWNS the prison.

Yeah, you will be destroyed in prison.

Of course it was Cara.

That betting slip that you saw in John Bishop's office -

that was hers.

You clocked it, yes?

Now, you might have seen that the family fortune was in freefall

if you'd bothered to read one single fucking paper

so Cara thought that she could make it back

by betting everything she had on Peter Crouch

but Peter Crouch lost and Alan Shearer won

and she went mad and slaughtered him.

It wasn't John Bishop.

Why? Because the note - yes? -

found on Alan Shearer's body was made up of letters from...

Successful Gazette.

..but John Bishop read the Successful Bugle.

And as for you, don't just stand there grinning like some massive sleazy garden gnome.

Go home.

How did I get it wrong, guv?

I don't know, Chris.

But I guess the thing is -

yeah, Alan's gone but I got a new best friend now.

-Come on, let's get out of here.

-Let's go for it.

Hey, Kamara. I hear that the Successville Hotspurs are after a new manager.

-Fancy that?

-Anything's better than police work.

THEY LAUGH

Now, that's a great joke!

# Here comes Johnny singing oldies, goldies

# Be-Bop-A-Lula, baby, what I say

# Here comes Johnny singing I gotta woman

# Down in the tunnel trying to make it pay

# He got the action, he got the motion

# Oh, yeah, the boy can play

# Dedication, devotion

# Turning all the night-time into the day

# He do the song about the sweet lovin' woman... #