“what’s this bullshit? Stevens come here. who took this shit
down? Fucking dwarves-this is fucking bullshit. What the fuck is this, man?
‘There’s more sir; there’s four I think’.
Four report sheets lay in the tray and stared up.
Senior Sergeant Pat Marker’s face contorted into a rage so
hideous, the fly on the wall dropped down dead. The veins on his bald head
bulged out red and his moustache began to twitch; his eyes grew larger, his
breath laboured and his whole body shook, slowly then faster until his whole
head exploded showering blood, snot, brains and a sizeable chunk of ear wax all
over constable Stevens who, luckily, was already wearing his emergency
overalls. His false teeth hit the window and bounced onto the floor, before
scuttering out of the door in search of a new home.