All events in these stories are
true; also, all characters portrayed are accurate. Any resemblances to anything
fictional are purely coincidental.
Officer Tasty
Enforcer of the Law!
Tales
from Sidley; Part 1
The
Ugly Beach Dances like a Canary
By
Alvin Culzac
My name is Tasty, Johnny Tasty. I am
sure that you are all aware of my success as a Crime Fighter. I am head of:
Sidley’s Control, Sediment, and Irrigation. Otherwise known as; CSI-Sidley.
This two-man crime fighting unit, (the other person, a woman, is not amused at
being called a man) is making a big difference in the fight against crime. The
clear up rate has been so successful it has impressed Her Majesty the Queen.
She has used her influence to have my department greatly increased, by one.
Law-abiding citizen
have nothing to fear, but crooks, criminals and miscreants should quake in
their boots. My current caseload is daunting; it involves investigating four
crime scenes simultaneously. It is vital that I find the missing field of
potatoes, who’s been stirring up the pigs. What is the link with the ugly beach
at Glyne Gap, however; most importantly of all, why was the Hooker wearing only
hobnail boots when she left the Vicarage? You can rest assured that I will find
the answers. It is now the 1st of April. This date did seem to have
some sort of significance to me, but I couldn’t remember what.
Deep in thought, I
found myself standing in front of the new train station in Hastings.
It was a striking futuristic building and it looked totally out of place.
It had a great expanse of glass that was reflecting the sun directly in to my
irises. I was in danger of being blinded. I shielded my eyes and hurried onto
the platform. I caught the first train to the ugly beach. When I got there, the
station was missing, so I pulled the communication cord.
When the screaming and
shouting amongst the passengers had died down, I was able to converse calmly
with the driver. “What the beep – beep do you think you are doing?” he asked,
in an irate voice. My knowledge of loco-motion dialectation was a little bit
rusty, so I spoke slowly to him. “Do you speak English?”
He threw open one of the slam-doors
and said. “Get your beep-beep ass off my beep-beep train.” I jumped down onto
to the ugly beach so that I didn’t have to teach him a lesson in English.
I had to climb over
some massive boulders to get to the hideous beach huts that looked like some
sort of modernistic throwback to the Jurassic era. Standing there was a strange
looking man with a guilty expression on his pockmarked face. I shadowed him to
the water’s edge where his fishing rod was twitching. I tried desperately to
look unobtrusive, but somehow he spotted me. Surely, the fact that we were the
only two people on the beach could not be the reason that he suspected that I
was interested in him. I decided to throw caution to the wind and confront him
with his crimes.
“How often do you
come here?” I asked suspiciously.
“Every day” he replied
“So you must have seen the Hooker with the Vicar?”
He couldn’t look me straight in the eye. “Look,” he mumbled, whilst keeping a watch on the angry sea that was
trying desperately to snatch him. “I was too busy staring at my rod to notice
the Vicar with the naked Hooker who I must say did look rather fetching in her
pink hob-nail boots”
‘Ah-ha’ I thought triumphantly. ‘How did he know that the hob-nail boots were
pink?’ I pursed my lips and thought furiously, and then it all became as
clear as the mountain water that flows daily into the underground storage
beneath WarriorSquareGardens. He
was just guessing after all, and must therefore, be telling the truth.
There was
no reason for me to continue questioning this citizen, so I left him on the
ugly beach struggling with his rod. I shook my head sadly. This
was turning out to be a difficult case after all, however, I was sure that as
soon as the culprits were found who’d been stirring up the pigs, I’ll crack
this case wide open.
This is Johnny Tasty; Enforcement Officer of the Law, signing out.
If
it walks, talks, and looks like an ASBO, then it is an ASBO
By
Alvin Culzac
Good evening all. My name is Tasty,
Johnny Tasty; Enforcement Officer of the Law inControl, Sediment and
Irrigation; Sidley, more popularly known as; CSI-Sidley. I am sure
that you have all been waiting eagerly for my next report.
Because of my achievements as a
crime fighter, our American cousins have decided to send a CNN film crew to
record my success. It is for a programme called: ‘How can Sidley get it so
right and America
get it so wrong?’ Personally, I think the title is too long, but it seems that
one cannot give advice to the Yanks these days.
I know that jealous Members of
Parliament will be asking Questions in the House. They will infer that it
is not appropriate for me to be involved in a
Hollywood
film. Well, stuff them. I can
assure the public that their safety will not be compromised, and to prove it, I
can report that all outstanding crimes in Sidley have now been cleared up.
For instance, I have discovered
where the missing field of potatoes went. It was sold illegally to Macdonalds.
There will be an enquiry to ensure that in future, no real potatoes will ever
end up in a MacDonald frying vat.I have also found the culprits who
have been stirring up the pigs, and they have all been issued with ASBOs. As
for the
UglyBeach
, a
televised makeover is planned to coincide with the 2012 Olympics.
The naked Hooker in the pink hobnail
boots turned out to be a Social Worker. She was on the prowl trying to catch
Choir boys who had gone astray. The Vicar just wanted a piece of the
action.
I can now report that as a result of
my diligence, criminal activities in Sidley are down. Drug taking is down.
Underage sex is down. The numbers of buses running are down, and as you know,
the cost of living is up.The first thing the film crew wanted
to know was what an ASBO looked like? To say I was speechless would be an
understatement. I don't think even Tony Blair know what it looks like. Anyway,
let me now introduce the film crew.
On camera is Lefty. So called
because, as a drunkard he would end up being left behind in strange places. On
sound is Cowboy, he even sleeps in his Stetson and boots. On lights is Castro,
called that because he’s Cuban. The Producer/Director is called Blondie, and
she is gorgeous. They must have cloned her from Marilyn Monroe and
HalleBerry
.
I was mesmerised by Blondie as she
explained to me that I must ignore the camera and pretend that it wasn’t there.
On no account was I supposed to look directly into the lens. The camera
followed me everywhere. They even filmed me as I prepared for bed. I
always sleep in the nude, so it was a bit awkward with a film crew in my bedroom,
but we found a simple solution to that problem, they all promised not to peek
as I got in to bed.I couldn’t remember falling asleep,
but I suddenly found myself frolicking in the sea with Blondie, off
Santa Monica
in
California
.
We swam ashore and I found that we were both stark naked. I tried very hard to
catch her but she was always out of reach. She smiled at me and said, “The
lights too bright. The lights too bright” I thought she was talking about the
sun, but just as I was about to grab her, I woke up to find the whole crew in
my bedroom. Blondie was directing and was saying to Castro. “The lights too
bright, the light’s too bright.”
I jumped out of bed in a confused
state and realised they were all staring at me. I caught a glimpse of my
reflection in the mirror and saw that I was standing naked as a jay-bird with a
raging hard-on. It was too late to hide it so I said to Blondie. “Remember
asking me what an ASBO looks like?”
“Yes,” she replied, her eyes never leaving my stiff dick.
“Well, you’re staring at one right now” I informed her.
Castro spluttered ‘Caramba,’ and involuntarily sprayed coffee and bagel all
over my bedroom floor.
“You’re going to clean up that mess, Hombre,” I informed him stiffly, as I ran
to the bathroom to hide my blushes.
I will no doubt be speaking to you all very soon. Let’s hope that
I don’t have to give you an ASBO.
This is Johnny Tasty; Enforcement Officer of the Law, signing out.
Evening all!
