Old School M.I. High

I am Sebastian J Wilberforce, new head of research at MI9.

There's one reason we're not winning the war with KORPS - technology.

My recently perfected molecular accelerator will change all that.

It uses quantum manipulation to accelerate the evolution

of the object to whichever time period you desire.

Not bad, eh?

The best part is that when I connect this to the MI9 network

at our secret facility this afternoon,

all of our technology will be upgraded instantly.

-Cool. It'll be like getting a new phone.

-Nice.

-Not quite.

The technology will be so advanced,

-they'll be controlling everything from MI9 HQ.

-So what happens to us?

They're disbanding MI High.

You will each be sent back to your old schools,

you won't see each other any more, and I'm out of a job.

We're on the scrapheap.

The 21st century faces a new kind of threat

and MI9 school must create a new breed of skilled undercover agent.

Hidden in a place no villain will think to look,

welcome to MI High.

This is the Crime Minister.

I have the secret location of MI9's new molecular accelerator.

Send all agents to acquire it now.

Today St Heart's is going to hold its first ever careers fair.

-So boring!

-You are in for a very, very special treat

because General Gabriel Grinder

is going to grant us some insight

into the many, many joys of a military life.

I thought it was a careers fair? That's only one career.

There's only one career I'll ever want.

Frank?

I'm the new cleaner.

-The headmaster, Mr Flatley, said you'd show me the ropes.

-Of course.

Well, it's an interesting job, full of variety.

You clean things, they get dirty, you clean them again.

I'll miss it.

-I never realised how much.

-I know how you feel, my love.

-I had a career once.

-What happened?

The worst thing that can happen to somebody like me. Retirement.

You know, it's like a race.

You stop for a moment, the whole world carries on,

then you realise you're not in the race any more.

Consider yourself back in the race, Margery.

The floor buffer's complicated. I'm supposed to provide training but...

Oh, happy with a mop and bucket, poppet.

-Why is the top of your mop flashing?

-It is?

It is!

It's just an alert system I set up.

-Lets me know when there's a...

-Spillage?

-Yes. A spillage.

A fantastic, high-risk, life-threatening spillage.

Excuse me.

Oh, Frank, there's been a spillage by the vending machines.

-They need us.

-Let's go.

..self-reliance. There is a structure to your day,

to your life, to your routine, and to your future.

PING!

Don't worry, Frank. The awesome foursome are back in the house.

-Unleash the Neish!

-MI9 realised their mistake.

-There's some world-ending threat.

-They need us to take it out.

Our equipment's useless now,

so the only thing you'll be taking out is the recycling.

Oh!

As missions go, this one really is a load of rubbish.

Enjoy it. Being a spy's about being resourceful,

making the most of things.

-Yeah, but we're not spies any more.

-Until they sack us, we are.

Besides, look at some of this stuff. It's amazing.

Retro spypods, magnetic boots.

I'll ask Frank if I can keep this for my collection.

-You have a collection?

-Yeah, antique spy stuff.

You mean clapped-out old trash.

I wonder what this one does.

-LAUGHS:

-Compressed water canister. Classic!

A CV is a document about your many skills and abilities

which is vital when you're preparing for the future.

Think of it as a shop window with a display about you,

only on a piece of paper instead of in a shop.

And with words instead of a display.

In fact, it's probably best

if you just think of it as a piece of paper with words.

Goodness. The smell of that skip really has rubbed off on you.

At least you've had some valuable work experience, eh?

Waste management is a very demanding field,

so those CVs will need to sparkle.

This is hopeless. I only ever want to be a spy.

-I don't want to do anything else.

-Or be anywhere else, right?

Zoe will lose her MI9 foster home. She'll have nothing.

BUZZING

Forget it. They probably just want us to lift something heavy.

I've already got blisters from dragging that bin round.

Might be the last time we work together.

Forget it. We're on our own.

We'll still look out for each other, won't we? Won't we?

-MAN'S VOICE:

-Hello? Is that the electoral office?

I'd like to report a vote miscount.

General Grinder's due any minute. Where's that cleaning lady?

This place has to look spick and span.

PHONE RINGS

Excuse me, Mr McNab. Hello?

Yes, Kenneth Flatley speaking.

What?

Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you.

-General Grinder?

-No.

It was a call to tell me

that I've won a by-election in Greater Coventry.

Did you even stand as a candidate?

No. The Electoral Commission were as surprised as me.

-What?

-I'm a Member of Parliament!

Arise, Sir Kenneth!

Hello.

Good afternoon, dear.

HE SINGS TO HIS MUSIC

Hello, love.

Hello. Good afternoon.

I'm old, I'm not invisible.

SHE SIGHS

-Hello.

-Oh, hello, love.

How's the new job?

-Oh, it's something to do, isn't it? Nice to have a purpose.

-Yeah.

-It must be.

-Dan!

They your friends, are they?

Yeah. The best.

-What's the matter, love?

-I might not be seeing so much of them any more.

I've been trying to reach you. Why aren't you answering?

What exciting mission have you got this time? Dusting?

-Some polishing, perhaps?

-No, a proper mission.

Please send help immediately.

KORPS have discovered we're planning to evolve MI9 technology.

They're coming for me.

They're coming for the molecular accelerator. Please! Help me.

Looks like he's hiding in the boiler room.

Someone leaked information to KORPS. We have to extract Sebastian

and the accelerator and bring them to our base.

What? So we can plug it into the MI9 network from here?

-And put us out of business?

-Would you rather deal with the rubbish?

Point taken. Let's go.

I'd better go. Bye.

Bye.

I do hope you're enjoying your tour of our school, sir.

Where are my new recruits, McNab?

Oh, ready and waiting, General.

To be honest, it's a great relief to have somebody like-minded around...

-Read minds, can you, McNab?

-No, sir, of course not.

-Then how do you know that WE are like-minded?

-I only assumed...

Assume nothing! Am I right in thinking you're NOT the headmaster?

I'm the deputy head, sir. Pipped to the post on a technicality

-so I'm second in command for now. But once Mr...

-For now?

Are you a plotter, McNab?

Because any plotters on my watch can plot a direct course

-from my boots up their backsides!

-Sir, no, sir!

All I meant, sir, was Mr Flatley has just won

the Greater Coventry by-election

so he should be leaving St Heart's for Parliament.

It's ridiculous, really. He didn't even stand.

It takes courage and skill to win a battle,

but a man who can win a battle without even fighting it,

that's a rare gift indeed.

-Well...

-This Flatley of yours could be officer material.

-Find him immediately.

-Sir, yes, sir.

OK, I've triangulated the position of Sebastian's phone.

He's still hiding in the boiler room but KORPS are closing in.

I have a plan of the building. We can guide you.

-The place is overrun. We need help, not guidance.

-Go left, guys.

I'll try to trap the KORPS agents using security doors.

'Done it.'

-I've cleared the way to the next level.

-Excellent work, Tom.

What's the matter with you all?

Marching up and down in the yard not good enough for you, eh?

Isn't there any sitting down pushing buttons jobs in the military?

As I was saying, Mr Flatley, grunts are easy to come by

but genuine officer pedigree, that's rare.

Oh, thank you.

And commanding the household cavalry would be quite an honour

but I'm afraid my political career seems to have accelerated.

I've just taken another call.

I've been made into the Government minister in charge of education.

You could win an entire war without even breaking a sweat. McNab!

-I was just taking a minute to get my breath back, sir.

-No excuses, McNab.

-Get down and give me infinity.

-Please, sir.

-Are you allergic to the ground, McNab?

-No, sir.

Then perhaps we can spray it with perfume?

Scatter it with rose petals? Like that, would you?

-Make it more appealing to you, would it?

-Yes, sir.

I mean, no, sir. No, sir!

How about you just follow my orders?

Would that be all right, McNab? CAN I BE IN CHARGE FOR A SECOND?

Yes, sir.

One, two... Come on, McNab!

They must have sent everything they've got down here.

I'm getting tired of running.

Zoe! Zoe?

You've locked her in with an army of KORPS agents.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. Hang on.

-She won't last five seconds.

-She's going to get pulverised!

Hold on, Zoe.

Almost there.

Zoe?

What?

'Sebastian's still in the boiler room.

-'You need to get there fast.'

-Come on.

-DEEP MAN'S VOICE:

-Stella Knight?

It's Agent Jenkins from MI9 surveillance.

The Prime Minister is being targeted. We have to protect him.

BLEEPING

-Stella.

-Frank.

I have got another priority mission for you and your team.

I'm glad to hear we're no longer on the scrapheap.

Well, owing to a turn of events that I'm struggling to understand,

the acting Prime Minister is now at St Heart's.

There's a report of an assassination plan by the new Shadow Master.

The PM is completely unprotected.

-You have to get there as quickly as you can.

-Understood.

Tom, get the team, Sebastian

and the molecular accelerator back here safely.

They want all of you upstairs with me protecting the Prime Minister.

The Prime Minister is here?

Mr Kenneth Flatley is headmaster at St Heart's school,

with a reputation for under-promising but under-delivering.

A committed morris dancer, fly fisher and avid reader of romance novels,

Mr Flatley admits to being totally bewildered by the appointment

and to feeling unqualified in, and I quote, every respect.

Now, you're probably all wondering why I've got you here.

Unfortunately every Member of Parliament

has suddenly been summoned abroad on urgent business,

which means that I now need to form a Cabinet.

There's one behind you, sir. Next to the chest of drawers.

Very amusing, Roly. So, General...

-Oh, hello, Frank.

-Mr F.

Prime Minister, Frank. Would you care to take a seat?

Where is he?

-Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me.

-We're MI9.

-Oh, but you can't be. You're just children.

-Just children?

We've just saved your life and we're not much younger than you are.

Once my molecular accelerator is plugged into the MI9 network,

you won't have to save anybody ever again.

Spying is about far more than just technology.

You can't bring down an organisation like KORPS by pushing a button.

-What would you know? Caveman!

-Come on, guys. We should just leave him.

No, don't.

-Why is he holding a blanket?

-This?

-Is that a comfort blanket?

-No...

I just c-c-carry it round with me in case I decide to have a picnic.

I bet you like a wittle cuddle wuddle with it too, don't you?

This place is still crawling with KORPS agents.

Come on.

All KORPS agents withdraw. Withdraw, immediately!

I thought you said that place was crawling with KORPS agents.

-Where were they?

-They're behind you.

HE SHRIEKS

Strange. Why would they just give up like that? Message from Frank.

'Team, I know this sounds strange,

'but Mr Flatley has been made Prime Minister.

'We've had word that KORPS are going to attack him.

'We'll get to the bottom of it later, but until we know more,

-'I need you to guard him.'

-Rewind.

Did he just say Mr Flatley is Prime Minister?

KORPS must have done this to make the PM an easier target.

'Send Sebastian to the broom cupboard by himself.

'Don't worry, he's got MI9 clearance.

'I'll get there as quickly as I can and take him into the base

-'where he can activate the accelerator.'

-Finally, a grown-up.

-Says the man with the comfort blanket(!)

-It's a picnic blanket.

Come on, let's get changed and find Mr Flatley.

-'Sebastian J Wilberforce.

-Frank?

'No. Just a good, old-fashioned voice changer.'

My name is Jemima Thursday -

one of the greatest spies in the history of MI9.

-What do you want with me?

-Your device and your MI9 access.

They took mine away years ago.

Pop your thumb on that biometric panel,

there's a cherub, or I might have to karate chop your bottom.

These keep coming through the fax machine, Prime Minister.

So many decisions to make

and I have no idea what any of them are about, General.

-That's why you're the Prime Minister, sir.

-Prime Minister, you need to sign this.

Thank you very much, Byron. Goodness.

-Frank, where is Sebastian?

-I thought he was with you.

You sent us a message, said he had to meet you by the broom cupboard.

-I didn't send a message.

-Well, if you didn't, who did?

-I don't know.

People have been getting strange calls all day.

-One of you should get down to the base.

-I'll go. Look after the PM.

How did he get elected anyway?

We don't know, but we think KORPS was involved.

Until we find out more, he's the acting PM.

We have to look after him.

It's a while since I have seen this old place.

I used to work here you know, you know.

You've orchestrated all this to bring me here?

Not you, so much as your molecular accelerator.

-How do you even know about it?

-Good old-fashioned spycraft, my dear.

I have learnt a thing or two in my time.

I can rig an election, I can fool MI9,

so I can certainly find out about your little toy.

-What are you going to do?

-I'm going to use your accelerator

to put the brakes on. I am going to turn it into reverse.

What? You are going to make MI9's technology go backwards

instead of forwards? MI9 can only beat KORPS if our technology

-is state-of-the-art.

-In my day, a good, old-fashioned

poisoned umbrella was considered state-of-the-art.

I was considered state-of-the-art.

Things move so quickly, too quickly.

Who was it who said "old-school spies have had their day?"

Well, we'll see about that!

Someone rigged the voting system to make Flatley a minister

and then phoned every other Member of Parliament to get them

-out of the country.

-Who?

The same people who sent the KORPS agents into the secret facility.

They wanted us to move the molecular accelerator to St Hearts.

We're up against some kind of superspy.

They've played us every step of the way.

Hello? Stella, can you hear me?

Uh-huh. Sebastian's blanket.

How is this supposed to work?

Hmm. Weird!

What's happening?

Why are you in a cage and what's all this vintage stuff?

-She doesn't know what she's done.

-Who?

-Jemima Thursday.

-Jemima Thursday's here?

She set the accelerator to turn all MI9's technology

into an earlier version of itself - the computers,

the spy-base defence systems, everything.

But it's not designed for that, it'll be impossible to control.

The whole Secret Service will get retro gear like this?

Has it even got a mouse?

There is one inside it. But it doesn't bite!

So you've heard of Air Force One? This is Rail Force One.

-Any word from Dan?

-Not yet.

I still think there's some kind of super spy behind all these

strange events. And now something has happened to my spy pod.

I have a new app for you, Prime Minister.

It's a highly effective time management tool I developed myself.

A diary, you mean?

No. No, wait, I...

What's going on?

I don't know, but I'm guessing it's something to do with that.

Technology everywhere is winding back to an earlier version of itself

with airships in the sky above Heathrow

and steam trains clogging up the railways.

-You're the cleaner and you are Jemima Thursday.

-The very same.

You're a legend, I read up on all your old MI9 missions,

-textbook stuff.

-You're very sweet.

I'd sign something for you, but I'm afraid I'm too busy

and you'll be busy too, when this is all over.

Imagine, a world where spies rely on their wits again.

Where we win because we're the best,

-not because we have the best technology.

-KORPS wins the arms race.

Let them. We'll fight them the way we've always fought our opponents -

with the fine traditions of intelligence,

instinct and spycraft.

Sorry, I can't let you risk it.

Of course, you'll be able to stay with your friends.

What are you doing?

She's insane.

We'll never defeat KORPS without the latest technology.

Things can stay the same? The M.I. High team can still work together?

-Precisely, dear boy, precisely.

-Switch it off.

-I'm in.

-Yes!

I thought it would be rather lovely if we started every day with

compulsory morris dancing for the entire nation.

Something systematically replacing only new technology

with old technology.

It's like someone got hold of the molecular accelerator

-and reversed it somehow.

-Frank, you've got to let us go after Dan.

-Get yourself down there and check it out.

-Aren't you coming with us?

BELLS TINKLE

I better stay down here and check he doesn't do anything too stupid

before we get the real PM back.

How lovely!

-All together again and ready for action.

-Guys, Jemima Thursday.

She's amazing. She's turning things back so we can keep our jobs.

-We can stay together.

-Dan, don't you realise what she's doing?

The molecular accelerator isn't just rewinding MI9's technology.

It's affecting everything.

Imagine a world where medical advances are reversed

and people get ill when they don't have to.

Or all TVs are black and white?

-Tom, that's not quite as bad as mine, is it?

-OK. Fair point.

Or real people are kept in cages.

She's breaching my human rights.

-Daniel, I'm giving you a purpose.

-You have one now, Dan, with us.

Our purpose is to save the world.

Even if it means we can't save our jobs.

Oh, really! Noble ideals are all very well, but they don't catch criminals.

You know what?

They're right.

-Shut down the accelerator.

-No. Daniel!

You can't. Activate defences.

The molecular accelerator has even affected the security systems.

Must have reinstated the old defences from years ago.

JEMIMA SCREAMS

I am wearing magnetic boots. Hold on to me.

-I have got to help save Jemima.

-Dan, no!

JEMIMA SCREAMS

-Take my hand.

-No!

HE WHIMPERS

Jemima, come on. You have to take my hand. Come on!

SHE SCREAMS

-Dan!

-Help us. How do we stop it?

-No.

-We need it to stay in the game.

-Living in the past won't help us.

Being a spy is far more than about gadgets and technology.

It's a state of mind. I thought you knew that.

I thought you were the best.

If you disable the molecular accelerator,

the defences will return to normal.

Tell your girlfriend to use the fusion ray.

She's NOT my girlfriend! What's the fusion ray?

The hairdryer.

Zoe, the hairdryer is a fusion ray. Use the hairdryer!

There!

DANIEL COUGHS

Phew!

Jemima...

I'm sorry. All this reminds me of when I was a spy. A good one.

You are. The best.

You're the reason I want to be a spy.

And you are the reason we're still spies.

Although what you did today was wrong,

if it wasn't for you, we'd be finished.

The molecular accelerator's circuits have blown.

Sebastian doesn't think he can repair it.

In fact, he says he's not even going to try. So, we're back in the game.

She's still a hero, no matter what she's done.

And at least all the technology has gone back to normal.

Hello. I wondered if you'd like some more work experience.

Ever since that silly Prime Minister mix-up there seems to be

an awful lot of governmental rubbish lying about the place.

Sorry, sir, we've decided on a different career path.

Well, not to worry. I'll have Mr McNab do it.

Oh, no, Mr Flatley, I don't think that's appropriate

-for a deputy headmaster.

-GENERAL: McNab! >

-Refusing to obey orders? You still owe me infinity.

-Oh, Mammy, Daddy...

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