The perps always get it in the end though…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s rather unusual diversion from the norm concerns my use of the words Dulltown, UK at the start of this line. I used to type in Dulltown, Europe there, but when we had the referendum on whether or not to leave the EU, which seems like ages ago, and the result came out ‘leave’, I changed my ‘location’ in preparation for the thing happening. You may also notice that on the ‘banner’ with the buoys on it at the head of this page it still says Dulltown, Europe – that’s because it would be more difficult for me to change it, the words being ‘glued’ to the picture, and really it would be just a lot of bother! What with the politicians dithering about like drunken baboons and gleefully stretching out the leaving procedure, I don’t know what the hell to do! Perhaps I’ll write to that nice Mrs May, she seems quite competent, and see what she thinks? Or maybe I’ll just extend my pondering and leave it as it is for the time being? There’s no real rush on this sort of thing, is there? We have all the time in the world…
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

And so, on with the post!
We TV viewers do like a bit of murder and mayhem and blood-letting don’t we? Well yes we do, so long as we feel good and reassured at the end of it, watching the miscreant being led off in handcuffs possibly stumbling along in a bullet-proof vest with a police station towel over his/her head – or peering glumly, but unrepentant at us with his fat sweaty tattooed fingers gripping his rusty grey-painted prison bars.
I have been known to watch those US ‘real life’ crime shows as I sit on my settee twanging my guitar in the evening. I like the real cops doing their ‘piece to camera’ with their not too healthy looking, serious, time-worn, but desperately concerned faces. Sometimes I might put my plectrum to one side and jot down a line or two of the voice-over in my little notebook:

A badly run down neighborhood – $50,000 – the police press for an answer – love triangles – and that’s not all! – justice seems out of reach – eerily similar – all just a bizarre coincidence? – they then call in the FBI – highly skilled technicians – it’s like hitting Lotto! – a break in the case – the authorities are stunned – they ramp up the investigation – and when they ran his prints they popped – the noose was closing in on him – this intercontinental monster – it was bitter-sweet though – his demeanour was calm – he strung her along – you wouldn’t think it to look at him – unclear circumstances – they eventually found his secret stash – a sultry thirty-one-year-old – it was those footprints leading away – an anonymous telephone call – twenty-five to life – their long ordeal was finally over…

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in drama, Dulltown, guitars, Hull.UK., humour, information, money, puzzle, science, serendipity, sex, smiling, surrealism, TV, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The perps always get it in the end though…

  1. Sharon Mann says:

    As I sit on my “reclining chair”, I watch the UK murder mystery shows, twanging my Ukulele! haha 🙂

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