The PoliceSitting in my local pub late one night enjoying the landlord's flexible idea of what constitutes his licencing hours, a bunch of drunk blokes in raincoats burst in. Requesting to be served, one shouted at the barman "It's alright - we're not coppers!"
They were spitting images of Lt. Columbo to a man. The barman laughed them out of the pub.
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chthonic, Thu 22 Sep 2005, 10:12)
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Traditional copper wind-upsMy old man was a copper for 29 years, bless him. Having just started in a small provincial police station in a tiny south coast town, he was subjected to many tried and tested gags, certainly the most memorable being this one:
On his first tour of the larger, main town cop shop, he was led down into the basement where the morgue was situated. At that point, there was an urgent phone call for the sergeant who was showing him around, so he asked my dad to wait where he was for a moment.
Imagine the scene - an eighteen year old fresh recruit standing in the middle of a dimly lit room, six or seven trolleys with shrouded bodies on them, tags on toes - when suddenly all the corpses sit bolt upright and start groaning.
My dad nearly shat himself on the spot, until it dawned on him that he'd been well and truly "had" by half a dozen rozzers with tears of laughter running down their cheeks, and tags on their bare feet.
Bastards. Wish there was video footage though...
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BobbyParadise, Wed 28 Sep 2005, 11:07,
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