Read on Twitter
Ted Hastings. The Big Man. Straight as a ruler. Definitely not ‘H’ and any suggestion otherwise is nonsense. No sauce. No dressing as one of Pan’s People. One thing and one thing only: Bent. Coppers. 10/10.
Steve Arnott. The rascal’s rascal. Unreal levels of shagging in S2. Proper police. The cockney McNulty. Loves a waistcoat as much as an attractive witness. Brunette co-workers beware. 9/10.
Kate Fleming. Great mate. Great eye rolling game. Turns into Rambo in S3. Loves a curry and a chilli. Not adverse to nicking criminals *and* husbands. Undercover game is slipping though. 8.5/10.
Tony Gates. Led into trouble by ‘Little Tony’ and dub himself a proper hole. Should be in a yellow puffa jacket tbqh. Smooth talker. Stat padder extraordinaire. 8/10.
Nigel Morton. Hits women. Fakes an injury to screw The Man. Sells gossip. Covers his arse tighter than PE Kit shorts. Loves smoking tabs. Shafts The Caddy. 3/10.
Matthew ‘Dot’ Cottan. Absolute shithouse. Has AC-12 on strings for years. Wears a whistle well. Running endurance of a doped Olympian. Urgent exit required. 7/10.
Lindsay Denton. Devious and if she had spent more timing nicking scoundrels as she did lying, she’d be at the top of the tree. Unreal shithousing ability. Underestimate at your peril. 9.5/10.
Jane Akers. Poor recruitment game. Husband under covers with an undercover. 4/10.
Mike Dryden. Likes them young. Taken down brutally. You love to see it. 2/10.
Georgia Trotman. Pool hustler, loves a drink and could’ve been a real contender. Had Steve for breakfast. Should have packed a parachute. Missed. 6/10.
Lester Hargreaves. Professional gruff northerner. Always angry. Sheer disdain towards anyone below him. 7/10.
