policemen at door prisma

Sir John walked into the main room of the artists’ church clutching his head and saw Morag lying on the floor.

“I think we’ll have to postpone the experiment with the powder,” he announced. “I feel terrible today.”

“Aye well,” said Morag. “That would be one of the three side effects.”

Sir John looked confused.

“A splitting headache?” he asked.

“No,” said Morag, “I meant the total memory loss. We did it yesterday.”

“We did?” said Sir John. “I don’t recall a thing.”

“That’s probably for the best, you were a wee bit out of it.” said Morag.

“Did I do anything embarrassing?” said Sir John. “Did we find the avatar?”

“Well, let’s deal with the last one first,” said Morag. “After a bit of, what we can only describe as drug engendered fannying around and a whole barrel load of nonsense we did indeed find a door that leads to the avatar.”

“Oh good,” said Sir John. “I think. Did we… fail the challenge?”

“Nothing so high falutin,” said Morag. “We got stopped by the rozzers. Or so we thought.”

“Wait! I think I recall something,” said Sir John.

“Ah yeah,” said Morag. “That’s the other symptom, flashbacks:

“Stop at once,” said the first policeman. “What do you think you are doing?”

“We were just admiring this ornate doorway,” said Miss Henderson.

“Do you expect us to believe that?” said the policeman. “I suspect you were planning a robbery.”

“But there isn’t a building behind this door,” said Miss Henderson. “What do you think we were going to rob.”

“Why don’t you come to the station and you can tell us,” said the second policeman.

Morag coughed loudly.

“Look! You’re disturbing our dog,” said Miss Henderson and bent down to Morag.

“And what do you have to say sir?” said the first policeman to Sir John.

“Cancel my subscription to the resurrection,” said Sir John.

“Why are they speaking Engish?” whispered Morag to Miss Henderson. “They don’t sound French at all.”

Miss Henderson stood up quickly. “Parly view ong lay?” she said to the policemen. 

The first policeman looked a little perplexed, was punched in the face by Miss Henderson and looked even more perplexed as he fell to the ground. The second policeman reached for his truncheon and received, in short measure, a kick to the groin, the knees and then the head. A little distance away a whistle blew and some more men in uniform ran toward the scene.

“Go,” said Miss Henderson, “I’ll hold them off.”

Morag looked at the two policeman lying on the floor and the others approaching.

“Good luck,” she said as she tugged on the lead pulling Sir John.

“I’ll be fine,” said Miss Henderson.

“I meant the coppers,” said Morag as she hurried away.

“Good lord,” said Sir John, “What happened next. Where’s Miss Henderson.”

“Well the second lot of coppers turned out to be real police,” said Morag. “Luckily, they spoke to Miss Henderson in French before she could wallop them but they arrested her for walloping the other two.”

“So she’s in jail,” gasped Sir John. 

“Well,” continued Morag, “then they worked out the lads on the ground weren’t rozzers and arrested them too. When they got back to the station, they asked Miss Henderson what had happened and she said they tricked her and attacked her.”

“So… they let her go?” said Sir John.

“Actually,” said Miss Henderson, whistling happily and carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. “They offered me a job.”


French Policemen

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