Written by armfeetandtoe

Wednesday, 29 February 2012


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Officer More stood looking down at the body on the floor. He had not seen the like in the twenty years he had been a policeman; in fact, he had not seen anything like it since his days as a butcher.

His moment of reflection was interrupted by the arrival of Officer Ore, who sidled up beside him and asked an obvious question. "Is he dead"

"Well" Began More. "Yes I am" said Ore "But is he dead?"

"If you look closely" continued More "You will see that the victim has something missing".

"Like what?" answered Ore.

"His head" replied More, with a wry smile on his face.

"Blast! You always seem to have the edge More, how do you do it?"

"Experience Ore, experience" replied More.

The two officers lit a cigarette and waited for the arrival of the senior detective from the yard.

"That's better" said Detective Less, as he entered the house from the yard. "Had to have a piss boys, all that beer at lunchtime, got a week bladder, my wife is always washing the bed sheets".

"Oh! Hello sir, just having a quick cough and a drag" said More.

"Quite right" answered Less, "You boys carry on, just waiting for the Forensic chaps and we can go".

Twenty Woodbines later, the forensic boys arrived and began to examine the now stinking body.

"My god"! Exclaimed Writen, senior forensic officer, "Where is his hat"?

"Oh my god" said Detective Less. "Are you trying to say, that this man was not wearing a hat when he was killed? For god's sake, what despicable lunatic could have committed such a crime?"

More, Ore, Less threw a horrified look at each other, each man hoping the other would not give way to the emotions of a 1950s film Noir and spoil the atmosphere of the crime scene.

"Sir" said Ore, breaking the silence. "What if this man did not own a hat and the killer just chopped his head off and took it with him as a sort of trophy?"

Writen placed his medical tool on the ground and stood up. The look of anger on his face was a classic pose that came straight from Emergency Ward Ten. "How dare you interpose my fenning gormant when I am trying to dummet the fornge with this cadaver!" shouted Writen.

"He didn't mean no harm sir" interjected More. "He has these fanciful ideas about being a detective".

"That's as maybe More" replied Writen, "But ideas like that can lead to a weekly series on the television with some boring detective solving murders in a village that should be condemned".

"Won't happen again sir" replied More.

"Anyone got a fag" asked the cleaner, as she wheeled her trolley across the set.

More, Ore , Less Writen returned to the script.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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