Bruce Robertson is describing each of his competitors for the Detective Inspector promotion. We start with Dougie Gillman.
Dougie Gillman is your average Scottish copper.
[FROG marching past an identity parade of bizarre suspects]
Sixty years ago in the glorious fu*king Reich, you'd be turned into handbags!
Next Bruce introduces us to Peter Inglis and he isn't particularly flattering about the guy to be honest. He does, however, give him decent odds as a contender.
Inglis is what they call metrosexual... but what I call a fu*king bufty. Two to one.
Bruce & Ray are on surveillance. The target of their operation turns up with a fifteen-year-old girl on his arm.
Oh, here we go. Here comes the schemie wee bastard now.
Jesus Christ, look at the face on that wee lassie. That's a stoat-the-baw situation if ever I saw one.
That's a curvy little arse there, though, mind.
Never you mind the curvy little arse on it, Ray. It's a bit fu*king young, no?
Ah, she's borderline, man. Come on.
Do you like wee lassies, Ray? Are you into baldy fanny? Borderline, is it? 40 sheets at 5-1. Come on. Go. 5-1?
Ah, no, maybe you're right enough. You're right enough.
You have got absolutely no bottle, Ray.
Bruce has a cunning idea for gathering forensic evidence against his suspect. He visits a brothel where he's paid a prostitute to retain a sample of the man's semen.
Christ, I never thought I'd see the day when I left a knocking shop with more spunk than I came in with.
The team's Christmas party has been gatecrashed by a camp acquaintance of Peter. Peter denies knowing the man and this leads to an argument with the very homophobic Ray.
Hey, hey, hey. Come on, man.
But I don't know the guy, Ray.
Well, he seems to know you.
You wrote that fu*king sh*te on the toilet wall, didn't you?
Did I fu*k! Probably one of your fu*king boyfriends.
[He punches PETER who ends up face-to-face with RAY'S crotch]
You disgust me. Get your face off my c*ck! Get off me, you fu*king c*cksucker!