Horse's Arse Read Online Free Page B

This would ensure that his demise would be recorded as
happening on duty, thus ensuring a huge payout. The fact that he personally
wouldn't benefit had apparently not occurred to him — but then he was extremely
thick.
        Piggy
was sitting next to the officer he was due to crew a vehicle with that morning,
Alistair (generally known as Ally) Stewart. Ally was one of the smallest
officers in the Force at 5'7%" - he had convinced his recruiting
officer that he would grow to the required 5'8" but never had. Southern
police forces regularly made up their recruiting shortfalls with expeditions to
the frozen, rickets-riddled wastes of the north where the unemployed masses
jumped at the prospect of any employment, regardless of its locality. Consequently
every force south of the Watford Gap had its fair share of unintelligible (to
the southern ear) Geordies, Scousers, Jocks and northerners of every
description. Yet even they drew the line at Ally, the runt of the litter with
his shock of ginger hair, broad Glasgow accent, permanent angry pink complexion
and physique to match the 'before' model in the Bullworker adverts. What he
lacked in physique and size, however, he made up for with his dreadful 'small
man syndrome'. He was also the most vehement religious and racist bigot and
kept a large poster of the Pope in his locker, which he would headbutt before
starting work. 'There ye go, ye Papist bastard,' he would bellow before making
his way to Muster. However, his worst excesses were reserved for anyone
unfortunate enough not to be a white Anglo-Saxon with milk-white skin. Some
years ago he and H had travelled into the centre of Manchester on a train and
after a few stops Ally had noticed that he and H were the only white occupants
in the carriage. He had put his nose in the air, sniffed theatrically and said
very loudly, 'Can ye no smell that, H, the smell of unwashed baboon?' H always
maintained that they were not attacked only because none of the other
travellers could understand Ally's accent. Ally was constantly in trouble and
could wallpaper his flat with the discipline notices he had been served with
over the years. He was however one of those coppers who knew instinctively when
something was not right. Having stopped a black cleaner early one morning,
searched him and found a £90,000 cheque the cleaner had just stolen from an
office, he was asked by the custody sergeant why he had stopped him.
        'The
bastard had no socks on,' Ally had solemnly replied.
        He
was not in a good mood that morning after the Grim Brothers had noticed as he
got changed that his pubic hair had vanished overnight. A one-night stand with
an Australian barmaid had left him crab-infested, and his golden plumage had
subsequently succumbed to a razor wielded by an Indian doctor who seemed to
bring unusual glee to his task.
        'Try
not to move too much,' he had told the appalled Ally as he moved his rapidly
shrinking penis from side to side with his thumb and forefinger as he shaved him.
'One slip and I could lop the poor little chap off.'
        Ally
promised himself he'd set fire to the rag-headed little bastard if he ever came
across him on a dark night.
        'Fuck
me, Ally, it looks like a strangled chicken,' Jim had shouted in the locker
room. Ally didn't get much in the way of female company and he felt hugely
aggrieved that he had been infected by a chance shag with a woman of the right
hue. He resolved to persecute all Antipodeans in the future as they were little
more than white wogs.
        
        
        Are
we going out today or not?' bellowed Psycho Sean, shocking Jones from his
living nightmare. Of all the misfits before him, Jones knew that Psycho
presented the biggest threat to him. He breathed insubordination and a sixth
sense told him that Psycho would be the source of most of his troubles. He was
right, too. Psycho was a real beast of a man, of average height, but as wide as
the proverbial shithouse