I gawped the law and the...law won
A couple of years ago I was driving down the road when I passed a police car on a junction to my left.

Now even though I am a decent, law abiding citizen (mostly), I used to get pulled over all the time when I was a kid, probably because I looked young for my age and used to drive cars which could be accurately described as a ‘seemingly unending fleet of sheds’. As a result of this, and even though I am now old and respectable, my arse-nut tightens to almost inside-out proportions every time I pass one of the filth’s jam sandwiches.

But this one was different. Driving this fucker was THE BIGGEST BASTARD I HAD EVER SEEN. He seemed to take up the whole of the front area of the car, with various bits of pig heaved against the dashboard etc.

Shitting myself, I tried desperately to look innocent (don’t ask, I don’t know) but looking straight ahead and sitting bolt upright, I happen to mention to my missus:

“Fucking hell, look at the size of that copper”

My missus, however has not mastered the art of 'staring at something whilst not looking like you are staring at something' (perfected by men over the years by leering at jubbly ladybumps etc).

So she pressed her mush against the window and gawped a loooong gawp for all she was worth. Her eyes fixated on the monster in the plod-mobile as we drove passed.

“Stop staring at the fucker” I screamed, but it was too late.

The sasquatch in the squad car pulled up behind us and started to follow.

I was driving impeccably, mumbling to myself: “fuckshitfucketybollocksfuckholes. You stupid cow, he’s going to pull us over now”

Lo and behold the lights flash and the world falls out of my cack-canyon.

I stop and sweatily get out of the car as giant haystacks’ pet brontosaurus walks up to me.

“What seems to be the p-p-p-p-problem, officer?” I wheeze, staring up to his belly-button

“Do you know what speed you were going?” Asks the silverback gorilla

“Erm………….” I say, knowing perfectly well that I was going at the exact speed limit but I didn’t want to antagonise the cunt-stick. (I wasn’t going to say “You’ve only pulled me over because I’m an easy target, you scrotey freak-of-nature” was I?)

“Before, you continue, may I warn you that if you do NOT know the speed that you were travelling, then that can be construed as dangerous driving, and is a CRIMINAL OFFENCE?” he boomed

“I’m very, very sorry if I was speeding sir, it was a lapse in concentration. It will NEVER happen again” I gushed, sucking up so much that I’m surprised I didn’t start kissing his thick neck.

“I do NOT want to have to go to the house of a local mother and say that her child has been killed due to YOUR petulant driving” he roared (he really said those exact words)

What I wanted to say was “Go and fuck yourself. You’ve just picked on me ‘cos my missus can’t control her staring when she spies a bloke the size of the rock of Gibralter”

What I actually said was: “I’m so, so sorry sir. I was in a hurry and wasn’t thinking. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Do you think that your being late constitutes the death of a child as ACCEPTABLE?” he asks (this guy isn’t letting up, how much sucking up do I have to do?)

“Of course not” I murmur. “I can’t apologise enough. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry sorry” (remember, I had actually done nothing wrong all this time)

It appears that by this point, he felt sufficiently empowered. “Very well”, the man-mountain growled “Drive on”

“Oh thank you, thank you” I grovel, getting back into my car, muttering ‘cunt’ under my breath and wanting to slap my missus round the face for putting me through that.

Still, all’s well that ends well. At least he never noticed that I was rat-arsed.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 21 Sep 2007, 13:09, Reply)