As before, any resemblance to anything in this story or any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
So, we have no arguments about accuracy; a doughnut is a food item made from leavened fried dough. I am not qualified to decide if It is a pastry, confectionery or even a cake. I leave that discussion to others, but as far as Crusher is concerned, it is a confectionery.
It was just another day on duty for Crusher, who was on patrol with Sharon, waiting for the call to assist fellow officers with apprehending the lawless and the ungodly. Crusher lived in the hope that he would have the opportunity to meet up with Molly, the drug detection dog, particularly after his latest attempt to get intimate with the adorable Molly, which was thwarted by PC Sharon. (See Crusher Returns)
When the call came, it was to apprehend a violent member of the criminal fraternity, William Bigger, also known as Big Willy. Crusher listened to the radio call and decided it was going to be a good day. If there was one thing that Crusher lived for, it was capturing violent offenders, and Big Willy fitted the profile.
They arrived at the address only to discover that Big Willy had slammed the door shut on the first officers on the scene and told them to depart and multiply words to that effect.
“Knock the blasted door down and let me have a go,” thought Crusher. “By the time I’ve dealt with him, the only one who will be departing is Big Willy…. to prison.”
The policemen brought out the enforcer.
Crusher dribbled in anticipation.
The door was smashed open, and Crusher went through the gap. There he was—Big Willy holding a baseball bat. Now, Big Willy was an intimidating individual. He was used to frightening everybody he met, and even police officers were justifiably wary. This was a very scary individual.
Crusher wasn’t scared or intimidated in the slightest.
“Yes,” he thought. “Being the thick idiot that you are, you have failed to grasp the fundamental mathematics of motion, you plank.
“The basic equation of motion is F=ma, which states that the force acting on a body is equal to its mass multiplied by the acceleration of its centre of mass.”
“What’s more, I am only a dog, and even I know that it’s called Newton’s second law, and what’s more fatso today I am going to prove it.”
“Basically I can move faster than you. Look at the size of you. The fat around your belly could feed a family for a week, and what’s more, I can smell your beery breath from here.”
Crusher gave his customary warning, a show of perfect white teeth and launched himself at Big Willy. He grabbed the baseball bat from his hands, dropped it and waited whilst Willy lost his balance and very conveniently fell backwards. Crusher then proceeded to sit on Big Willy’s chest with his teeth showing only inches away from his face as Sharon arrived.
“Crusher, leave him now.”
Crusher gave Big Willy a hard stare.
“Be grateful, you putrid slime ball, that my partner has come, so I can’t give you a dose of what you deserve.”
Big Willy appealed to Sharon. “Get him off me.”
Sharon looked at one of the underworld’s hard men who took pleasure in terrorising members of the public.
“Ask me nicely.”
Big Willy looked puzzled. He frowned. He obviously didn’t understand.
“Ask me nicely, say please.”
“You’re learning, lass.” Thought Crusher as he lowered his face to within an inch of Big Willy’s face.
The hard man was terrified. He could smell Crusher’s breath so close to his face.
“Please”, he begged.
Sharon told him to get up and put his hands out to be handcuffed.
“Don’t even think about doing anything silly. My dog will eat you, and next time, I will let him.”
Big Willy dutifully allowed himself to be cuffed and led away.
Flushed with success, Sharon decided to treat her fellow officers to doughnuts. This was a ritual observed when there was a celebration to be marked, and the locking up of a high-profile criminal was something to celebrate. Fortunately, the bakery was close to the police station, so it enjoyed the benefits from the regular clientele of the guardians of the law.
“A box of assorted, please?” asked Sharon. This was standard practice when doughnuts were purchased, including chocolate ones, sugar ones, jam ones, and doughnuts with pink icing and sprinkles on top, although they were the last to go. No self-respecting policeman would be seen dead consuming a doughnut covered in pink icing so it was always fun to see who took the ones with the pink icing and sprinkles.
On arrival at the police station, Sharon borrowed a large tray from the canteen and carefully laid out the sugary treats for consumption by her fellow officers in the squad room. Crusher watched the laying out of the treats with a degree of annoyance.
“Where’s mine!!?” He thought, “Again, no consideration. Most of these humans were far too fat anyway, they should never be allowed anyway near a doughnut. Unlike me, who is at the peak of my physical fitness and could appreciate the delightful taste and texture of my favourite confectionery, They should all be forced to run a marathon every year, and then we would have a truly fit and healthy police force.”
Sharon and Crusher left the squad room, Sharon shut the door and told Crusher to stay as she headed for the ladies loo.
Crusher knew from past experience that Sharon would be there for at least ten minutes. Try as he might he just couldn’t work it out, what on earth did she do in there that took so long? He was totally baffled. The men came out in 2/3 minutes, but Sharon had been there for ages.
As Sharon attended to her requirements in the ladies’ room, she knew there was something wrong but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then the realisation hit her: she hadn’t heard the squad room door close properly.
Sharon emerged from the ladies facilities only to find that Crusher was missing and heard the cries of anguish from her colleagues in the squad room. Sharon knew instantly…..
“CRUSHER, YOU THIEVING VANDAL, WHERE ARE YOU!!?”
“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend, inside of a dog its too dark to read!”
Groucho Marx
With subtitle or not?