Pre-dawn raid on home of New Zealand author locates suspect hiding in the doghouse with Hamlet.

Written by Absolute Bull

Wednesday, 20 March 2019

image for Pre-dawn raid on home of New Zealand author locates suspect hiding in the doghouse with Hamlet.
Over the Moon

Taking a leaf out of the book The Absolute Bull of New Zealand: How to Get Away with Pure 96.5% Murder, the police, the armed-offenders squad and the country’s Drone Air Force hit their target in a pre-dawn raid on a quiet suburban nook of Auckland.

“This is not about Dirty Politics,” said an Unnamed Source from the semi-darkness under the street-lamp Around the Corner, referring to an earlier raid that took place on an author’s home in 2014. Newshounds on the scene at that hour had their cameras and mobiles recording the event, as the Unnamed Source elaborated: “This time we have a search-and-arrest warrant signed by the judiciary because the justice system has been accused of being ‘soft’ on crims, and the Ministry does not condone revealing state secrets. This arrest will prove that we’re hard on crims.”

“And yes, in the interests of transparency, we informed the media about the raid 40 minutes ago, and that makes it LAWFUL,” concluded the Unnamed Source emphatically. “It’s good to see media folks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at this unearthly hour,” the Unnamed Source laughed, and sauntered down the driveway to join his armed colleagues.

It was a scene straight out of the book as a few copies were found scattered on the driveway with bookmarks flagging page 69 of the banned items, highlighting the modus operandi. Reporters were at odds to explain how the authorities managed to get their hands on these copies considering the publication had been recently banned as a Travesty of Justice.

Unlike the book in which Justin Case was ordered to surrender, the Men-in-Black banged on the door and triggered the classic universal exchange.

Knock! Knock!
WHO’S THERE?
Bull Rushes.
BULLRUSHES WHO?
Bull rushes in where angels fear to tread.
YOU’RE DAMNED RIGHT! WAKING ME UP AT 4 IN THE @#$% MORNING!

The door was yanked open and a huge cow stood there with Clarabelle tattooed like a necklace on her enormous chest.
“What the hell do you want?” mooed Clarabelle, in a menacing voice, her udders trembling with rage.
“Oh Crikey!" said the Leader of the Men-in-Black. “A talking cow standing on its two hind legs. And NAKED! Get back men, this is straight out of Gary Larson!”
The Men-in-Black fell back in a heap as the Leader tore off his glove and tossed it to Clarabelle.
“Please Ma’am, do get dressed. Or you might catch a chill. We mean no harm. We’re just doing our duty, and we have an arrest warrant."
“YOU ARRESTING ME FOR INDECENT EXPOSURE?? THAT’S ABSOLUTE BULL!!"
“Yes Ma’am," said the Leader referring to a piece of paper, “Absolute is the name we have. Absolute Bull. And we have an arrest warrant for him. So, if you please, could you ask him to come quietly and…"

"I HOOFED OUT THAT LAZY BUM. CAUGHT HIM DOING THE DUSTING USING HIS TAIL. AND HE REFUSES TO WIPE HIS HOOVES ON THE MAT. DOESN’T WASH THE DISHES PROPERLY AND SLEEPS ALL DAY LIKE A DAMN BULLDOZER."
“Ma’am, we can get him off your back if you can tell him to come out and face the music. And we’ll lock him in the bull-pen”.
"I TOLD YOU, I HOOFED HIM OUT. HE’S IN THE DOGHOUSE. WITH HAMLET."

A pair of unblinking glowing eyes burned in the darkness of the doghouse. Beneath the eyes, a large snout bristled, sniffing the air. A low growl rumbled forth, and the black lips curled back to reveal two rows of gleaming chiselled fangs.The squad in black halted in their charge. It was a tense stand-off until the Leader plucked up his courage and bellowed into the bull horn:
“Absolute Bull, Irish Stew in the name of the law.”

A black lethal snarling torpedo erupted from the doghouse and cannoned into the squad leader, knocking him down and triggering the domino effect amongst the men.

“Nice doggie! Nice doggie!” squeaked the Leader. And then gasped in horror. “OMG! It’s a Great Dane. No wonder it’s called Hamlet. Get off, boy, where’s that nut, Absolute?”

Hamlet sat on his haunches, looked to the starry skies, and bayed at the moon, framing the image of Absolute soaring over the silver orb.

The squad broke into hysterics, packed up their gear and sauntered off singing in unison:
Hey diddle-diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the bull jumped over the moon.
And the Great Dane laughed to see such fun…”

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

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