A series of 3 images commissioned from 3DLoon.
OFFICER TOVE GETS INVOLVED 1
“But do remember, Officer Tove,” the station controller continued “West Docks is a rough area, a place of ill repute, especially on a Friday night. The local lads like to have a few drinks, you understand. So don’t rush into trouble. You know the drill: a calm, measured approach. A stern gaze, a commanding presence and a forceful ‘ELLO, ‘ELLO, WOT’S ALL THIS ‘ERE, THEN!?’ Take your time: with a bit of luck, someone else might get there first. The fish and chip shops do a roaring trade though, that’s one good thing. Oh, and mind the local toms: they’ll suck you in and blow you out in bubbles before you can say George Dixon.”
“I’ll remember that, sir” Officer Tove assured the controller confidently.
“Good, off you go then.” And as soon as Tove had closed the door behind her, the controller reached inside his desk drawer to return to the colour pages of the latest edition of Mayfair Magazine.
Dropped off by the patrol van at the start point of her beat, Tove began to make her way through the maze of alley ways and backstreets which made up the West Docks. Things seemed quiet – well, quiet for the West Docks, that is: Officer Tove had learnt when to avert her gaze. Then suddenly, from a dark alleyway to her right, her ears were assailed by screams of abuse and the sound of knuckles thudding against flesh. Tove walked towards the source of the noise then stopped as she reached the scene of conflict. She studied the combat zone confronting her. Two women were going at each other hammer and tongs, pulling hair and landing well aimed punches on their opponent. The whole was accompanied by a detailed in depth character analysis delivered at an extremely high decibel level. Officer Tove paused: she had a hunch she should know these two girls, they looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen them before. Never mind: it’ll come to her. Tove straightened her back, drew herself up to her full 5’6”, and took a pace into the alley.
“’ELLO, ‘ELLO, WOT’S ALL THIS ‘ERE, THEN!?”
OFFICER TOVE GETS INVOLVED 2
“’ELLO, ‘ELLO, WOT’S ALL THIS ‘ERE, THEN!?”
The two combatants immediately ceased their conflict and turned to face Officer Tove who froze in horror as she finally recognised the two women who were now each pointing a pistol at her.
“Melody and Harmony!” Tove whispered almost to herself “Acolytes to the criminal mastermind Tamara!”
“Your very disobedient servants!” Harmony acknowledged with a mocking bow “And I must say you look very attractive tonight, Officer, in that immaculate uniform which looks as if it’s a perfect fit for you, Sis.”
“Um, I think you’re right” Melody agreed after unzipping Tove’s skirt to study the label “Needs taking in an inch around the waist but otherwise it’s perfect.”
“Good, it’s ours. That’ll make a matching pair. Time for a game of piggy stripping, I reckon.”
“Right!” said Melody, now with a wicked glint in her eye as she thumbed the hammer on her pistol and pointed the weapon at Tove’s head. “Strip!”
OFFICER TOVE GETS INVOLVED 3
Officer Tove was not happy; but more like grumpy as she squirmed with embarrassment. Being handcuffed to a police box in her underwear was bad enough without Melody amusing herself by running her fingers all over Tove’s body to explore her erogenous zones while, at the same time, reciting:
“This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed at home,
This little piggy had roast beef
And this little piggy had none
And this little piggy was left cuffed to a police box in her knickers and bra to wait for the big, bad wolves to turn out of the pub at closing time.”
As if on cue, Melody’s nursery rhyme was interrupted by the sound of a bottle being dashed against a wall and the tinkle of a well bladdered reveller relieving himself into a hapless letter box.
“Ah, you’re in luck!” assured Harmony “Two heroes about to stagger to your rescue. You are saved! For what, I cannot tell. Time we made ourselves scarce, Mel.” And with a cheery wave, they left.
The two figures slowly ambled towards Tove. Although their knuckles did not quite drag on the ground, the gait was decidedly neanderthal. They stopped about a yard away and peered closely through an uncomprehending, beer soaked haze. Officer Tove sighed and resigned herself to lying back and thinking of England.
“’Ere, Alf. There’s a bird here with no clothes on.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, Fred: well spotted! But she’s still got her knickers and bra on, though”
“We can’t leave her out here in just her shreddies.”
“Nah. Perhaps we should take them off her, then she’d be completely starkers.” suggested Alf, a disciple of neatness and order.
“Alf, I’ve got it! She’s from that new programme on the telly, you know, that one where they step inside a police box and fly off into space or the future or whatever.”
“What?!”
“No, Who! That’s the bloke’s name: Who!”
“Oh, yeah, that’s it. He always has nice looking birds with him, don’t he. He’s probably sitting in that box right now, waiting to take off somewhere.”
“But what’s she doing outside, cuffed to the door for?” asked Fred.
“Dunno. Perhaps he puts them outside when he finished with them – like empty milk bottles, you know.”
“Oh, yeah, that must be it.”
And with the mystery explained, at least to Alf and Fred, our two heroes of the night ambled off, leaving Tove to struggle with the box containing the telephone which she hopes will be her saviour tonight. But will it?
THE END