Monday, June 04, 2012

In The Nick Of Time

A gang of us mates have been taken into a police station. I'm 17, a streak of piss, full of cheek. We're guilty of course - we'd just robbed this store - nothing much but I know the only evidence was in a B and Q receipt I had left in my wallet.

If the superintendent discovers this receipt I'll get banged up. I manage to drop it down the back of the chair. He hasn't noticed and now he's asked me to empty my pockets and he searches my wallet. He doesn't find anything but he still wants to put me in an overnight cell.

"You can't hold me," I say, "you've got no evidence."

And I get let out. I can't believe my luck.

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