Neurotic, excitable, unpredictable, potentially dangerous - and that's just the police officers! Drunk drivers, feral children, drug barons, violent prisoners, dying junkies, wild gypsies, gun-toting gangsters, angry taxpayers, budget cuts and delusional senior officers - PC Surname and the rest of 'A Shift' do battle against them all.
Jump in for a ride along as they go about their everyday jobs, fighting crime and protecting the public in this hilariously accurate portrayal of modern policing!
The poorest area of the township we patrol is without doubt the Chavington Manor Estate on the east side of town - home to a hard-working, honest majority; as well as some of the worst examples of humanity society has to offer. It is the start of a Late shift and I am sent to the estate to investigate complaints from local residence of that most heinous of crimes in progress - knock down ginger.
After just a few minutes of searching I find a gaggle of youths matching the description passed.
"Hello kids, how are we today?" I open with.
The group skip over and converse with me through the open car window: "Hello Mister, what are doing around here?" enquires a cheeky twelve year old Tyrone who I have met a few times before during the course of my duties.
"Oh, not much," I reply, "just patrolling to make sure you lot are safe."
"Cool car. I want to be a police officer when I'm older," says a freckly little lad in a Man United shirt, a little younger than Tyrone.
"Well that's good-" I start to say, surprised to have one future cadet in the making...
"Yeah, so that I can get a gun and shoot up all the junkies and dealers around here."
Oh dear. Kids grow up fast in 'The Manor'; at that age I was more interested in collecting Pogs and playing with my He-man action figures, not gunning down members of the narcotics trade.
"Where possible we try not to shoot people; instead we arrest them, give them a fair trial, rehabilitate them, address the underlying issues that caused them to turn to crime, before introducing them carefully back into society and, where necessary, monitor them closely," even I'm not buying that and by the look on his face Freckles is not convinced either.
"Can I see your gun, officer?"
"Don't have one, sorry," I disappoint in reply.
Although technically my incapacitant spray is considered a prohibited 'firearm' under Section 5 of the Firearms Act 1968, I think Freckles wants to see something a little more impressive than that which resembles a miniature can of deodorant.
"Why was the helicopter up over our house last night, Mister?" asks another.
"I don't know," is my honest reply.
"I heard someone set fire to a stolen car, is that true?" enquires one more.
Possibly, but before I can answer: "No, I heard there was a riot and a man got killed?"
That's less likely.
"I bet it was to do with drugs wasn't it, policeman?"
The questions are coming thick and fast now.
"Can I have a ride in the back of your car, copper?" asks Tyrone before I can answer the last.
"I think you've been in the back of my car before, Tyrone; remember Tesco's?"
"Oh yeah," he laughs.
More children are now flocking to my panda like it's a homing beacon and I'm giving out free fast food to anyone under the age of fifteen.
"How fast does your car go?" asks the only girl in the group.
"Well I had 115mph out of it on the bypass once," I go on, before remembering the reason I came to the area in the first place: "Anyway kids," getting back on track, "have you seen anyone knocking on people's doors and running away?"
"No!" they all shout together unconvincingly, broad smiles across most faces, conspicuously few expressions of guilt across others.
"OK, well if it was you, please don't do it any more as it's a bit annoying."
"OK!" they all shout again.
"Gis' a go with your Taser?" freckles pipes up again.
"Right,
