‘itla and Chips are favorites with the hindlegs puppies at Herdwick Primary School. Every afternoon after class, they chase them hindlegs puppies around Herdwick pooping park, fetching sticks, eating spilt ice creams off the grass, and getting bellies tickled – at least, ‘itla does. But there’s a weird hindlegs hanging out the other end of the park and Chips sniffs something really bad’s about to happen.
Shall he or shall he not?
Herdwick pooping park spreads out before him. The sniffy wind carrying colours from hindlegs, fourlegs and foodstands. All the hard policework with the purple sniffers at the OAP’s now needs balancing off with some serious eating.
Shall I eat at Jimmy’s or shall I eat at the Turkish?
His snout is already twitiching like its in electric shock. If Duncan can just stop his twitiching, just for a mo, and consider the meaning of the phrase ‘rhetorical question‘, he’d know the answer: both. As it happens, Duncan sniffs a heightened warmth of colour escaping from PC Andersen packleader. Scipper‘s ready for a bit nosh, too
There’s nothing like policework to work up an appetite. That’s the plain truth of it. Beforenow, it’s been a tough morning guarding Swallow High Street, helping out the store owners offload their food, warning a certain German fourlegs to move on, cleaning up under the tables at the OAP’s, and generally keeping the affable peace.
Cloudes are scraping and fidgeting up above, threatening a spot of drink from the sky. Well, it‘s England, after all. What else can you expect but uneccessary and unwelcome drink from the sky?
There’s a load of fours around, too. And what else can you expect when there’s so much hindlegs food for all the load of fours to enjoy?
Enough with all the rhetorical questions.
“comeonDuncan,fella“ PC Andersen packleader steps into the park, that hungry bounce in his step.
Aagh, come on, mate!
PC Andersen packleader is not, repeat, absolutely not, heading for the food stands, though. No. He’s trotting along like he’s on some real important mission towards Herdwich Primary School where all the hindlegs puppies are playing outside with their packmoms and packdads. And, of course, along with ‘itla and Chips.
Still, beggers can‘t be choosers and Duncan’s superior sniffing equipment swtiches into action, catching the colours of dropped salt’n’vinegar chips, icecreams, cup cakes, gum, bread rolls and, most importantly, chicken sticks.
“nonsense,nonsenseandmorenonsense“ PC Andersen packleader yaps at the packmoms and s as he passes between them, saying hello, passing compliments, shaking his earflaps at the weather, and generally doing what the law is supposed to be doing. One or two emboldened hindlegs start reaching down to ginergerly pat Duncan between the earflaps, but Duncan gives the ‘look‘ and their attempts shrivel away.
Don’t need patting during polive activities his implacable hazle brown eyes stare back I just need feeding
I sniff you Duncan Chips bounces up, sniffing aroud areas that are strictly police property.
I sniff you Duncan ‘itla nods his earflaps, repecting the do not cross yellow tape that could almost be rolled out around Duncan’s rear end.
I sniff you, too, lads. What’s up?
The usual, innit cuz
The attempt at… Chips finishes with his sniffing around the no go zone.
Keeping the peace is more important than food, boys Duncan appropriates a suitably somber tone.
Unless it impedes with keeping the peace, I suppose quips Chips.
Duncan sighs, turns and gives Chips a final warning look before letting off a quick squirt.He surveys the scene. So, where is the good food at fellas?
“nonsenseandmorenonsense“ PC Andersen packmate is yapping with Fruitylegs.
The brothers don’t answer, staring intensely at the big slab of Dobermann.
Yes?, No? What’s worth eating then? Simple questions lads
We need your help, cuz blurts ‘itla.
Duncan flaps his ears. Assisting the removal of grub from the scene is what the Thames Valley K9 unit is fully trained to expedite
That’s true ‘itla agrees.
He means we need your real help, Duncan Chips sighs.
He means – erh, we both mean, we needs you to go kick the bollocks out from under some suspiciously sniffy hindlegs
Uh-huh the two Jack Russels reply as one, pointing their snouts across Herdwick pooping park towards the suspicioulsy sniffy hindlegs sitting in his growling roundlegs on Nelson Avenue.
Duncan follows their snouts and narrows his eyes at the growling roundlegs. Sniffing deeply, he admits that there is the hint of a weird colour on the sniffy wind. But it’s certainly not enough to go charging over their and kicking the bollocks out from anyone.
Cos you’re a right heavy wrencher, cuz
He means, that hindlegs yonder is breaking all sorts of laws and we don’t like it
Duncan sists down and in his deep voice explains the law ain’t here just cos you don’t like some bad sniffing hindlegs, fellas
But he assaulted us, officer
And he needs a good hammering, cuz
…and it’s totally unacceptable behaviour from a hindlegs
Duncan sighs deeply, his big chest reverberating. Look lads, there’s a lot of hindlegs who display unacceptable behaviour. Such as, wilfully locking up the bins at back of McDonalds…such as failing to stop and provide alms for all fourlegs…such as –
We don’t mean food –
Such as… Duncan is starting to lose his patience forgetting to feed me on my community walkabout!
“enoughyapping“ PC Andersen packleader hauls Duncan back onto his four paws. “let’sgonosyaroundthecup’n’cake“
And, such as… if it ain’t food-related then it ain’t a police-related. Now sci-dabble and keep the peace. There’s good boys
And with that parting shot of wise advice, Duncan happily follows PC Andersen packleader towards Jimmy Thais.
‘itla and Chips watch him go.
‘itla turns to Chips nice one bruv!
By the time Smackers catches up with Mary-A she’s already gobbled down more food that she’s gobbled down in a week. Sausages, bread rolls, some pizza, chocolate cake and, of course, chicken. It’s all just laying there for the taking as she noses her snout further into the black plastic bin liner.
Just for the taking!
“non,non,non“ Smackers crackles and pops up, wrenching the Poodle’s head out of the bin, tandoori lamb cubes sticking out from her mouth. Smackers picks distastefully at the stick, Mary-A refusing to give in so quickly.
Smackers pulls at the stick. Mary-A clamps down and refuses to let go.
All of a sudden Herdwick pooping park turns upside down – literally – as Smackers picks up Mary-A, back legs first and shakes her vigourously. Mary-A watches the grass getting closer, getting further, getting closer as she bounces up and down.
What yer doing Mary-A? Chips asks, trotting onto the scene. He’s never seen an upside down poodle before.
Eayyyyating lamb kebabs of course, waaaaawhat’s it look lyyyyaahk muttwit?
She’s right, bruv ‘itla’a mufled voice comes from the bin liner. His head pops out, mouth full of sticks. Taste better that way Mary-A?
Iyeee dooooon’t knoowaahhh!
One final bounce upside down and she drops the stick. It’s immediately snatched away by ‘itla. It does!
Chips grabs a few himself not so bad, actually
Right about then there’s an high-pitched hindlegs scream that cuts right through all the cup’n’cale gaity and pricks up the earflaps of all the fourlegs in Herdwick pooping park.
“where’sTommy,where’smyTommy“ Tommylegs packmom is squwarking. “Tommy!“
To the absolute bemusement of Giblets and Tuffy, the hindlegs mom is running around in circles, flapping her arms like she wants to take to the skies like a flaplegs.
Can hindlegs fly? Giblet asks, momentarily halting the scratching of one particularly stubborn testicle to admire the spectacle of a hindlegs about to fly right out of Herdwick pooping park.
Corse they can Tuffy explains, voice muffled between his own legs
Even Fruitylegs is in on the action, jumping around with her, looking under park benches and inside waste bins.
Bet he’s off somewhere eating some chicken, innit ‘itla comments, sure that Fruitylegs can’t fly, even if Tommylegs packmom can.
No he ain’t Chips immediately sniffs towards the bad smelling hindlegs the other end of the park he’s over with that bad sniffing hindlegs. See?
Bruv, we gotta do something like, and bury it right now!
And both Jack Russels high tail it towards Tommylegs, who little paws are now clutched in the big paws of the bad sniffing hindlegs. Worse still, the bad sniffing hindlegs is dragging Tommylegs towards the open rear door of the growling hindlegs. Chips is fast, but is he fast enough to save the day?
Tommy I’m cooooming to your rescue, Tommyyyyy!
Being closer to the action, Mary-A hits the grass with her snout, providently falling straight onto the tandoori lamb cube she dropped beforenow. Fortune favours the bold and as she bolts it down whole, another piercing scream shakes her earflaps.
Followed by Smackers getting stuck in to the caterwailing “non,non,non“
Too late, I’ve eaten it the poodle looks up at her noisy old companion. Except that Smackers ain’t looking at her, but sticking her own snout towards a little hindlegs pup being bundled into a growling roundlegs.
Even more extraordinary than Smackers not paying Mary-A any attention is the site of ‘itla and Chips also racing along on their tiny legs towards the hindlegs pup.
Looks fun and she makes a break to chase after them. She ends up on her back, shocked to be looking up at the swishing clouds instead. Her lead not exactly the length of Herdwick pooping park and held tight by Smackers as Mary-A loses the battle of forward momentum checked by immovable force.
Chips barrels right into one leg of the bad sniffing hindlegs, his sharp teeth clamping onto his solid and very black sniffing ankle.
Oh, no you don’t, mate he shakes with all his strength, earflaps slapping from side to side, trying to catch up with the rest of his head.
“YOUagain,getooorfyerlittlebugga“ the hindlegs shakes Chips off his feet. Beforenow Chips has never thought about flying. But this must be what it’s like to be a flaplegs.
Get ooorf me bruvva! ‘itla joins the fight shouting with all his might before grabbing the bad sniffing hindlegs by the other black sniffing ankle. He doesn’t care about flying. He just wants to pull this hindlegs mother down. A quick shake and he‘s tossed aside, onto the grass.
Bounceing back up onto his feet I said get your paws offa my bruv he shouts, launching himself again at this nasty hindlegs animal.
By this time, at last, Tommylegs packmom is on the scene, Frutiylegs huffing and puffing it at a distance. Packmom’s got one paw pulling Tommylegs from the backseat of the growling roundlegs, the other paw slapping the bad sniffing hindlegs around his chops.
“leavemysonalone,younonsensenonsnesnonsence“ she barks over and over.
Come on mate, this looks more fun than scratching bollocks! Tuffy drools and chases off to join in the fraccas.
Apart from the lack of agreeable bitches sighs Giblets, chasing right after him.
Oh, now what? Duncan is enjoying the first full dinner of this sorrowful day when PC Andersen packleader suddenly jerks the Dobermann’s eating gear up from a well deserved police break.
Duncan follows PC Andersen’s snout and quickly takes in the scene. Some nasty ass hindlegs kidnapping a puppy hindlegs and making small fourlegs fly all over. And, typically, it‘s ‘itla and Chips who are doing all the flying. Corss, would be those twos, wouldn’t it? Force and Ignorence
But there’s no denying that some bad sniffing is rolling out in waves from this confrontation and PC Andersen is already starting off towards the scene. Trouble is, it’s right the other side of Herdwick park. His packleader will never get there in time.
PC Andersen packleader stops, unleashes Duncan “STOPHIMDUNCAN!“
And Duncan launches away, showing all of Swallow exactly how a fourlegs can really fly.
Faster than the sniffy wind, Duncan’s ears bowing back against his slick head with the pressure of his speed. Dodging between packmoms and packdads, outrunning Giblets and Tuffy, he zeroes in, missle fast and silent straight at the evil sniffing and law-breaking hindlegs.
A dobermann is one of the fastest fourlegs on the planet. This is what he’s trained to do. Stop. Neutralise. Apprehend. And eat whenever the opportunity arises. But right now he is the law.
“whoooaaaa! Whatthefuuuuu“ the bad sniffing hindlegs screams as Duncan slams into him hard af. His teeth clamping down on the hindlegs‘ arm, shaking his muscular neck this way and that and pulling him down to the ground. Whereupon the bad sniffing hindlegs throws up his paws, whimpering.
Stop! Stop! Stop! Duncan roars, standing over the hindlegs, keeping him down, right beside his growling roundlegs, until PC Andersen packleader arrives and takes charge.
“nonsensenonsensenonsense“ Tommy packmom is barking.
“nonsensenonsensenonsense“ the bad sniffing hindlegs is barking back.
What’s he yapping on about? says Chips.
The bad sniffing hindlegs is now pressed against his growling roundlegs by PC Andersen packleader. Tommylegs is safely wrapped in his packmom’s paws. All the hindlegs are barking at one another, soon joined by the whole sorrowful pack of hindlegs, including Fruitylegs and Smackers.
He’s yapping that he’s the father says Duncan, no longer in mauling mode but sitting quiet and alert beside his packleader companion.
And he has a right to see his pup whenever he wants to Duncan continues.
Awww! all the fours sigh, a motely crew of ‘itla, Chips, Giblets and Tuffy.
And now PC Andersen packleader is talking to Rojer in his paw….and Rojer is sending a wailing roundlegs to come and take the evil sniffing hindlegs away
Ahhhh! all the four great minds sigh again.
On the sniffy wind the fourlegs hear the sirens a few good moments before the hindlegs prick up their own ears. Togther they watch the wailing roundlegs enter the park, growl across the grass and stop right where PC Andersen packleader tells them to.
“nonsensenonsensenonsense“ the bad sniffing hindlegs is still barking.
“youcanhaveyoursaydownthe station…nowgetin!“ PC Andersen packleader growls softly to the bad siffing hindlegs. And, after a gentle shoving, he does.
Shows over, lads Duncan says to the fours. He looks down at ‘itla and Chips well done you twos
You can take the fight outta of the fours but you can’t take the fours outta the fight replies Chips, happily watching Tommylegs being led away by his packmom.
You know what I think, coz
Do tell Duncan leans down, snout to snout with ‘itla.
I think that sniffy hindlegs is a right wank puffin!
Just as the scratchy clouds let drop a right load of drink from the sky onto Swallow’s cup’n’cake.
Oh here he is applauds Shadow as Duncan is led in and locked in his cage at Swallow‘sThames Valley K9 compound the Hard af K9
Heard you slipped yer leash Dunks? quips Jax, snout pressing through his cage.
Policework lads, Dobermann style! Now where’s my dinner. I’m starving…
“imposseebler“ Smackers is scolding Mary-A in the houseden “imposseblerpetitechien“
Having been dragged away from the cup’n’cake, dragged all the way home, well indignified in front of all the fours, including Duncan. And thanks to the drink from the sky giving a soaking all over, Mary-A ain’t in any mood to get barked at by Smackers. Not now. Not ever. Honestly, beforenow she hasn’t even been able to have her daily poop.
I gotta go
“fornicatingonzegraswithlespeasants… très imposseeble….“
I gotta go now
eatinglambsfromzeplasticbeen…. simplement imposseeble“
Mary-A decides enough is enough and does a right heavy and long-awaited poop right there on the living room carpet [impressive for her size] and right in front of the electric fireplace.
Simply imposseebla that, Smackers! she settles down, gazing into the heat, and dreaming of Duncan and one or two other hefty fours.
“wellimpressedboys“ Fruitylegs is frying Canadian “wellimpressedwithyoustwostoday“
Fruitylegs hands down one rasher to ‘itla and quickly one more to Chips, before ‘itla can nosh it.
Instead of chomping it down in one, ‘itla is so impressed by Mary-A’s eating habits that he also tries eating upside down. Jumping up, biting, turning his head to the ground, and nose-diving into the carpet.
Can’t do it, bruv
Chips chomps down the Canadian by doing his signature backflip presto!
how is it, bruv?
Chips looks fondly at his brother, more fondly than usual
I’ll just try it again, bruv. Frutiylegs, givvus another Canadian!