High drama in the village!!!

Blue flashing lights over the road. Short Tony rang the doorbell to let me know.

“There’s a dog unit and everything!” he burbled. “And another one just round the corner! And they’re searching peoples’ gardens!”

“Gosh!”

“Mrs. Big A’s just called me. Apparently there’s some sort of armed response unit as well.”

This was a slight concern (but also quite exciting as well). After some discussion we concluded that it was unlikely to be another stolen trailer, and was probably a homicidal maniac.

“I think I’ll search our garden,” I said. “Just to be safe.”

On reflection I decided to leave my gun indoors so that I wouldn’t be shot accidentally by the police. Instead I took a powerful torch, which I would shine aggressively at any Dennis Hopper type madmen I found lurking in the woodshed.

Nothing.

Returning to the house, I realised that leaving the front door wide open was probably a mistake, as a lot of heat was escaping from the kitchen. I gave a full report to the LTLP, explaining that I did not wish to be another Tony Martin but protecting my house and loved ones was paramount.

That Mr John Redwood was on Question Time only last week, complaining that householders are unsure of what they can do if they walk into their living room to find a swivel-eyed maniac loon in front of them.

Fortunately I was aware of my rights, and slowly and calmly switched off the TV.

Later on I slipped round to Short Tony’s to see if he had an update on the situation. He was holding a large iron poker, but I couldn’t help noticing that he’d got Mrs Short Tony to actually answer the door.

The police had gone, but we decided that it would not be a good idea to go round to Big A’s in order to ring the doorbell then hide in the bushes.

I shall be sure to purchase a local paper tomorrow.

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