And here on this huge, abandoned army base
crisscrossed with more than 30 miles of deserted roads,
we received the details of our challenge.
Oh, hello. Why is it an envelope and not a text this time?
-That's a good point. -We're in Wales, no signal.
-Yeah! We're back to the old ways. -Come on, then, what is it?
"Because the drivers of '80s hatchbacks were irresponsible and stupid,
they were often chased by the 50."
James, it means the 5-0, as in Hawaii 5-0. It's the police.
-Yeah, whatever. -The 50!
Anyway... "You will now go head-to-head with the Top Gear Police Department.
Each of you will take it in turns to drive your own car while the other two will use
a selection of police vehicles to try and stop you."
That sounds quite good.
It does sound good. Tell you what, Hammond, you go first.
Good, yes.
I might need a minute.
While Hammond mended his car...
James and I broke out the TGPD pursuit vehicles...
and slipped into our police uniforms.
Okay, Hammond, are you ready?
Yes, I am.
-This is going to be good. -In three, two, one...
Start the clock.
We are off.
It's just warming up.
Here we go.
Excuse me, sir, my moustache would like a word with you.
If you'd like to step out of the vehicle. You're nicked, sunshine.
-What did I do? How long? -Eight seconds.
Do you know, another fault...
-Did it? -Very similar.
It manifested itself similarly to the last one that one I repaired.
-Tell that to the judge, sunshine. -Yeah, right.
Jeremy then put on the yobbo outfit
and lined up his velvet Golf on the start line.
Three, two, one begin!
And there we are, eight seconds. I've already beaten Hammond.
He's getting away, constable!
Yes. Live with this!
You see, what we're learning straight away
is that a modern police Astra is no match for a 1980s hot hatchback.
And it wasn't just the Astras that were causing problems.
Recent figures say that in London, 12 police cars are crashed every day.
And the reason is, it's because they are driving in high-energy
difficult situations while under the influence of the moustache.
Got a moustache, got a moustache, got a moustache.
Oh, he's lost it!
Totally distracted by his face decoration.
With the Astras unable to close the gap...
Come on!
...the chase went on...
and on... and on.
The next morning, the weather had become extremely Welsh.
But still, the Golf was uncaught.
This isn't working, sir.
No, I agree, I think we're going to have to break out
the Top Gear Police Department magnetron of justice.
If anything could stop the miscreant, it was this.
A giant crane with a seven-kilowatt magnet suspended from its arm.
A machine that could render any vehicle immobile in moments.
Right, let's go get him.
Soon, the trap was set.
Hm. What's this?
Arming magnet.
Here he comes.
Blithering idiots. Do they not realise you can't use a magnet to pick up velvet?
There was only one thing for it.
Unleash the TGPD remote-controlled car of death.
Target vehicle identified and located.
Where the hell are they?
How can this be a police chase when they aren't chasing me anymore?
Target acquired.
Sir, you might want to put your fingers in your ears.
I don't know where those two are or what they're plotting,
but it won't work.
This car is simply invince...
Bigger than I was expecting, constable.
Yes, sir, it was, sir.
So, it turns out that velvet is impervious to magnets,
but it is pervious to dynamite.