The Curmudgeon

It happened at the Institute after the police had sent a nice young bobby to help us set up our crime prevention group. He was a fresh faced sort of lad, friendly and willing, but he patently didn't expect to find himself refereeing a near fracas which made the end of the season Beggarsdale-v-Crookedale rugby game look like a Brownies' meeting.

The constabulary is based on the moon, you see, and to get them to Beggarsdale in the first place is slightly more difficult than landing a space probe on the surface of Mars.

But the lad did his best and things were going quite well until Owd Tom arrived (no doubt after a gill or two at the Beggars') wearing the all-white foot and mouth coveralls he somehow acquired from the vet.

When Tom bumbled in, the constable's face went as white as Tom's suit, not out of some fastidious dress sense but because of the twelve-bore that Tom was carrying broken over his arm, the twin cartridges in the breach clearly visible.

The copper swallowed hard and decided he must assert his authority.

"I don't think this is the right and proper place for firearms, sir," he said crisply. "The last thing we want to start here is a vigilante group."

Tom frowned. Perhaps he did not understand the word. Then he flared: "Ah thought t'idea wuz t' scare off thieves and the like. Tha's nowt more scary than a twelve bore up tha nostrils."

"I, er agree, sir," stuttered the constable. "But the idea is for you to keep an eye open for potential criminals and then report them to us. If you start taking the law into you own hands, you could find yourself in serious trouble."

"Tosh," said Tom, although that wasn't the word he used. "By the time we report to you lot and you got 'ere, any thieves would be back on that Costa del Crime place in Spain with the booty. And they could'a walked an all."

Cousin Kate, the post mistress who was chairing the meeting, tried to intervene but before she could open her mouth, Teacher Tess, LoCoPoCoThoPo, (Local Commandant, Politically Correct Thought Police) snapped: "Sit down, Tom, and stop making a fool of yourself. We are talking law and order..."

"Dunna you use that there tone a voice wi' me yun' woman," growled Tom.

"Both of you shut up," shouted Kate. "We are here to co-operate not squabble..."

"An' thee can shut tha gob, Kate," growled Tom, "Tha's got a mouth on you worse than tha mother's and that was bigger than the quarry in its heyday."

"How dare you," snapped Kate. "You silly old oaf," shouted Tess. "Ladies and gentlemen, please," pleaded the PC. So Tom stormed off back to the pub and, yes, we did finally get our rural watch scheme off the ground.

"Crikey," said the young copper as he was leaving. "You shouldn't have much trouble in future. Any villain who dared to come here would have to be stark, staring mad."

* The Curmudgeon is a satirical column based on a fictitious character in a mythical village.