Then Amanda Drummond jumps in with, – But surely in our professional role as law enforcement officers, we have to accept responsibility for society’s problems. This is implicit, I would have thought.
You are a silly wee cunt. That is ex plicit, I would have thought. No way are you rocking B.R. spastic fanny. The same rules are applying to the fucking maximum here girlie. – I was speaking as an individual. I thought this was what you wanted. No hiding behind professional roles, I think we were told at the pre-course briefing, we were to respond as human beings. Of course as a law enforcement officer I accept that we have these responsibilities.
The dopey dyke looks fazed by this and deflects the question. Standard tactics. She’s acting like a fuckin criminal. Polis? That? Ha! – Good point Bruce, she says patronisingly, – anybody else got anything to add?
– The biggest problem, Gus starts up, – and youse’ll no like me for sayin this, but it has to be said, the biggest problem is that blacks cause the maist crime, then he’s turning to me, – You worked in London for the Met, Robbo. Tell them.
– Well, I can only speak for my time in the Stroud, I say noncommittally. I look over at Ray Lennox. His face is impassive but there’s a tension in his eyes. I’ll bet the cunt’s suffering. Been on that nostril shite again, I’ll wager four to one on.
Chinky-drawers comes in, – What about Stroud Green?
– I think it would be inappropriate to get into the particular problems that one area may or may not have had, I tell her sharply.
– Fine, she says hesitantly. She didnae like that rebuff. But of course, it’s no real problem. If we won’t talk, then these fuckers are never shy about filling in the gaps. So we listen to a dull lecture, marking time until the coffee break, the heat from the radiator almost making us doze off.
Finally, we adjourn for coffee. Shitey wee fuckin biscuits, that’s all they give us with the coffee. I usually get a roll from the canteen or something from the bakers for my piece, but naw, that’s all forgotten about with this disruption for their coon-loving course. They think of no other cunt’s routine but their own. I take a coffee and stand over beside Clell. I deliberately keep away from Gus. A nice cunt, but he’s giving far too much away. Too far into that three score and ten to learn a new script. Careless, and that’s food and drink to these cunts. Lennox has the right idea. He’s too wide though, that fucker.
We’re waiting on our young Mister Lennox. Fuckin sure we are.
Clell, Gillman and I are joined by the wee chinky bird with the toff’s English-Yank accent. It keeps fuckin well changing. Probably been tae posh schools all over the world. I hate those privileged cunts. They think that you’re fuck all, that they can just use you tae clean up their shite, and in fact, most of the time they are spot-on. What they don’t know though, is that you’re always lurking in the shadows. The opportunity to pounce usually never comes along but you’re always lurking, always ready. Just in case.
Chinko’s been giein it loadsay fuckin mooth awright. The particular problems ay the inner city. Aye, right ye fuckin well are doll, you didnae get an accent like that in any fuckin inner city. She’s rabbiting on trying to get us tae open up, standard tactics, but we’re keeping it tight. Clell’s expanding a wee bit, saying what the cunt wants tae hear, but he’s on a wind-up. He’s jousting with me and Gus; it’s just the bastard getting in role. I think the best way tae handle these cunts is just tae keep stumpf. The best cons ken that n aw: just say fuck all. She’s rabbiting on though and I’m nodding at her, looking at her eyes and lips moving and I start tae think of her fanny.
I’d fuckin well gie her one awright. No much in the coupon stakes but a tidy body on it. High marks in curvature of arse. Never mind the mantelpiece when yir pokin the fire;
You are a silly wee cunt. That is ex plicit, I would have thought. No way are you rocking B.R. spastic fanny. The same rules are applying to the fucking maximum here girlie. – I was speaking as an individual. I thought this was what you wanted. No hiding behind professional roles, I think we were told at the pre-course briefing, we were to respond as human beings. Of course as a law enforcement officer I accept that we have these responsibilities.
The dopey dyke looks fazed by this and deflects the question. Standard tactics. She’s acting like a fuckin criminal. Polis? That? Ha! – Good point Bruce, she says patronisingly, – anybody else got anything to add?
– The biggest problem, Gus starts up, – and youse’ll no like me for sayin this, but it has to be said, the biggest problem is that blacks cause the maist crime, then he’s turning to me, – You worked in London for the Met, Robbo. Tell them.
– Well, I can only speak for my time in the Stroud, I say noncommittally. I look over at Ray Lennox. His face is impassive but there’s a tension in his eyes. I’ll bet the cunt’s suffering. Been on that nostril shite again, I’ll wager four to one on.
Chinky-drawers comes in, – What about Stroud Green?
– I think it would be inappropriate to get into the particular problems that one area may or may not have had, I tell her sharply.
– Fine, she says hesitantly. She didnae like that rebuff. But of course, it’s no real problem. If we won’t talk, then these fuckers are never shy about filling in the gaps. So we listen to a dull lecture, marking time until the coffee break, the heat from the radiator almost making us doze off.
Finally, we adjourn for coffee. Shitey wee fuckin biscuits, that’s all they give us with the coffee. I usually get a roll from the canteen or something from the bakers for my piece, but naw, that’s all forgotten about with this disruption for their coon-loving course. They think of no other cunt’s routine but their own. I take a coffee and stand over beside Clell. I deliberately keep away from Gus. A nice cunt, but he’s giving far too much away. Too far into that three score and ten to learn a new script. Careless, and that’s food and drink to these cunts. Lennox has the right idea. He’s too wide though, that fucker.
We’re waiting on our young Mister Lennox. Fuckin sure we are.
Clell, Gillman and I are joined by the wee chinky bird with the toff’s English-Yank accent. It keeps fuckin well changing. Probably been tae posh schools all over the world. I hate those privileged cunts. They think that you’re fuck all, that they can just use you tae clean up their shite, and in fact, most of the time they are spot-on. What they don’t know though, is that you’re always lurking in the shadows. The opportunity to pounce usually never comes along but you’re always lurking, always ready. Just in case.
Chinko’s been giein it loadsay fuckin mooth awright. The particular problems ay the inner city. Aye, right ye fuckin well are doll, you didnae get an accent like that in any fuckin inner city. She’s rabbiting on trying to get us tae open up, standard tactics, but we’re keeping it tight. Clell’s expanding a wee bit, saying what the cunt wants tae hear, but he’s on a wind-up. He’s jousting with me and Gus; it’s just the bastard getting in role. I think the best way tae handle these cunts is just tae keep stumpf. The best cons ken that n aw: just say fuck all. She’s rabbiting on though and I’m nodding at her, looking at her eyes and lips moving and I start tae think of her fanny.
I’d fuckin well gie her one awright. No much in the coupon stakes but a tidy body on it. High marks in curvature of arse. Never mind the mantelpiece when yir pokin the fire;
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