PC Plonker was so very angry. “Get in there, both of you,” he growled and pointed to the kitchen. It wasn’t very big but there was a wooden table set down right in the middle. PC Plonker unbuttoned his tunic and all the fat from his belly flowed out over the waistband of his heavy serge trousers. Timothy stared at the big, wide heavy leather belt that held up PC Plonker’s trousers. All the water drained from Timothy’s mouth.
“You are nothing but little thieves,” PC Plonker told them. He was very angry and he waved his arms around. “What would your father say if I told him what you did?” Timothy blushed to his roots. He knew what his father would do, if he found out. Oh my! He didn’t want him to find out.
PC Plonker stood by the doorway of the kitchen and put his hands deep into his pockets. “Well young Bylton,” he growled at Timothy, “Youse been here before, youse knows what’s to ’appen.” Timothy’s mouth opened and closed but he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Youse was caught red-handed, youse was,” PC Plonker said with a glint in his eye. “Don’t blame me …” PC Plonker stopped talking then and Timothy and Julian both stared at the policeman as he took hold of his own belt and unbuckled it. Their eyes popped out on stalks when PC Plonker took hold of the belt and pulled it fast that whoosh! it came away from his trousers and flew through the air. PC Plonker’s belly was so fat his trousers didn’t fall down. Really, he didn’t need a belt at all. Well, not to keep his trousers up!.
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Picture credit: Skipper.
Charles Hamilton the Second
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