Ah Cannae Tell a Lie

by Harry Morris

  ‘You’re telling me you had a wee blether with these guys, while they were stealing twenty fucking tellys from the shop?

  ‘Well your face will appear on every one of them TVs tonight when they switch on the news, unless we catch them first!’

  Fortunately, Ricky was able to give a detailed description of the men involved and the van, along with part of the registration number, which was broadcast over the radio.

  A short time later, Ricky heaved a huge sigh of relief when he was informed that the vehicle involved had been stopped at the city boundary. The TVs and electrical goods had been recovered, and the occupants had been apprehended.

  It was now time for a relieved Ricky to head off home and ‘Have a nice day!’

  PART EIGHT

  Zoo Time!

  …

  My old colleague and resident nightmare with the cult following, Donnie Henderson, called me the other day with this story.

  ‘Harry boy! How the hell are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine, Donnie, just fine. How are you?’ I replied politely.

  ‘I’m not bad, Harry boy, but I’ll tell you a wee story that just happened to me recently.

  ‘I saw a job advertised in the police magazine for an odd-job man at the Edinburgh Zoo. So I called up for an interview and as luck would have it, I got the job.

  ‘The first morning I started, I’m working with this auld grumpy zoo keeper, who handed me fish food and told me that the well stocked fish pond at the entrance was the first thing that the visitors saw when they entered the zoo, so it made a good impression on them if they saw all the fish up at the surface feeding and swimming about freely.

  ‘I made my way down to the fish pond to feed them, only to discover them all floating upside down at the top – DEAD!

  ‘I rushed up to tell the zoo keeper, who told me to get a net and a wheelbarrow, scoop all the dead fish up into the wheelbarrow and dump them over the wall into the lions’ den.

  ‘So I hurriedly did what I was told and rushed back to him and said, “What now?”’

  ‘“Right!” he said. “The next big attraction for visitors as they enter the zoo is the chimpanzees swinging about from tree to tree, so nip down to the store and fill your wheel-barrow with apples and bananas and run over to the chimps’ play area and give them it. That always brings them out for the visitors to see.”

  ‘So ah went over to the store, loaded up with fruit and headed for the chimpanzees’ cage, but when I arrived, none of them was out. So I opened the door and went into the cage and found them all lying in their beds – DEAD!

  ‘I rushed to tell the zoo keeper, who told me to load the wheelbarrow up with their dead bodies, run them up to the lions’ area and throw them over the wall.

  ‘So I hurriedly did as I was told and rushed back and said, “What now?”

  ‘The zoo keeper said, “Right! A popular item that we sell in the shop is honey. So nip up to the back of the zoo to the bee hives, collect the honey and hand it into the shop for the girls to put into jars.”

  ‘Away I went, up to the back of the zoo to the bee hives, and when I got there …’

  ‘Don’t tell me! The bees were all dead!’ I said, interrupting him.

  ‘Exactly, Harry boy. You’ve guessed it. The bees were all dead. Some bugger had mashed them all up!

  ‘I rushed back to tell the zoo keeper, who told me to get a brush, shovel and bucket, and to sweep up all the dead bees, fill the bucket and dump them over the wall into the lions’ area.

  ‘Once again, I hurriedly did as I was told and rushed back and said, “What now?”

  ‘“I’ll tell you what now! Now you can bugger off away out the road, because I’ve got a couple of young lions getting delivered and I don’t want you anywhere near them. You’re nothing but bad luck!”

  ‘So I buggered off and stood at the back of the wall of the lions’ area, watching him as he was introducing these two young lions into the den and one of them came running up to the back wall. All of a sudden, I heard it asking a lioness, “What’s it like in here, doll?”

  ‘“Oh, it’s very good!” she said. “We’re well looked after in this zoo!”

  ‘Then it asked her, “So! What’s the grub like then?”

  ‘And she replied, “Well, for our lunch, we just had fish and chimps wi’ mushy bees!”’

  There was silence for a moment before I put the phone down.

  It’s Who You Know

  …

  A female was stopped for speeding and while checking her driving licence the cop said, ‘It states here that you should be wearing glasses!’

  ‘I have contacts,’ she replied.

  To which the cop responded, ‘I don’t care who you know, missus, you’re still getting a ticket!’

  All Bets Off!

  …

  A parent asked the local police officer for some help, informing him that his son had developed a gambling habit and he was anxious for him to grow out of it.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do to help you,’ replied the police officer.

  The policeman arranged for the boy to come to the station, so that he could speak with him regarding his gambling habit. After that his father called to collect him.

  The boy was sent out of the room while the police officer spoke with the father.

  ‘I think I’ve cured your son of his habit!’ the officer said confidently. ‘Let me explain how I did it.

  As the father sat down at a desk opposite, the police officer said, ‘While talking with your son about his habit, I noticed he was constantly staring at my moustache. Suddenly, in the middle of my lecture on gambling, he interrupted me and asked, “Constable Gray! Is that a real moustache, or is it a false one?”

  ‘When I replied that it was a real one, he said, “I’ll bet you a fiver it’s a false one.”

  ‘I considered my position for a moment, then said, “All right, I’ll take your bet. Now pull it and you’ll see for yourself that it’s a real moustache!”

  ‘Of course, he lost the bet and I made him pay me the five pounds, as a lesson to him, but by doing so, I believe I’ve cured him of his gambling habit!’ he said, pleased with the result of the action he had taken.

  ‘Oh no!’ groaned the father. ‘A fiver? The wee bugger bet me a tenner that he would pull your moustache during your talk with him!’

  Horse’s Arse

  …

  Two traffic cops pull over a driver for speeding.

  After informing the driver why he was stopped, one of the cops starts to write out the speeding ticket, but is continually distracted by a fly that’s circling around his head.

  ‘Damn fly. It’s a bloody nuisance!’ he says.

  ‘Circle fly,’ the driver remarks.

  ‘What did you say?’ the cop asks.

  ‘I said it’s a circle fly!’ the driver repeats.

  ‘A circle fly? I’ve never heard of that before. How do you know that?’ he enquires.

  ‘Because I have stables and they’re usually found circling around a horse’s arse! That’s why.’

  The cop is furious with this remark and says to the driver, ‘Are you insinuating that I’m a horse’s arse?’

  To which the driver replies, ‘Certainly not, Officer! But you’ll have a hard job trying to convince that fly!’

  Fact or Fiction?

  …

  The brief scenario is as follows:

  Johnny takes apart a leftover firework from Guy Fawkes Night and empties the contents into a small bottle, attaches a wick and blows up an ant-hill in the garden.

  In the 1960s, the ant-hill would be destroyed along with the ants. Nothing more said.

  Present day, the police would be contacted, who in turn would notify MI6 and the Bomb Squad.

  As a result of their inquiry, Johnny would be charged with perpetrating acts of terrorism.

  His parents and close relatives would be investigated and removed from their family homes.

  All c
omputers and mobile telephones would be confiscated for examination of their records and Johnny’s father’s name would be added to a terror watch list and never allowed to holiday abroad again!

  Fact or fiction?

  It Never Ends

  …

  A convict escaped from prison and returned to his house where he knocked on the door.

  His wife answered the door to him and said, ‘Where the hell have you been?

  ‘According to Sky News, you escaped from prison six hours ago!’

  That’s My Dad

  …

  I was writing a wee story about my late father the other day and by, pure accident, I came across some interesting facts that I was unaware of, so let me tell you them first.

  At the age of thirteen, having left school, he worked as a motorbike dispatch rider for the Fire Brigade and by sixteen, two years into World War Two, he wanted to serve his country and so enrolled in the Royal Navy.

  Due to being very tall for his age, he easily passed for eighteen years old and was accepted, no questions asked.

  Several convoys later, at the end of the war, he was accepted into the fire brigade full-time, having failed the medical for the police, because he had flat feet!

  Accepted by the fire brigade, he was to become the youngest fireman in Britain and had the distinction of having served his country and been awarded six medals as a result. Something that a lot of his colleagues in the brigade hadn’t done!

  He also continued to serve in the armed forces, by enlisting in the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserves, and when he was required to resign years later, due to a back injury he’d sustained, he found it hard to accept, so he immediately contacted the Royal Engineers Territorial Army Reserves and enlisted with them, serving for a further twelve years.

  He was also very much a royalist during this time and would never tolerate anyone talking badly about any part of the Armed Forces, and I mean to the extent where he would have no hesitation in resorting to physical assault!

  With this in mind, I will now relate an incident that took place one evening in a pub in Glasgow, while he and I were sitting having a quiet drink, awaiting the arrival of one of his ex-army buddies.

  We had been sitting at a table in the middle of the lounge for about half an hour, when in walked his old mate Cameron.

  During the ensuing conversation, Cameron intimated that he had arranged with his daughter’s boyfriend, a newspaper reporter, to join us for a drink.

  In the interim period, before he arrived, they were talking about the latest news regarding two young army squaddies who had been killed whilst on duty, and how tragic it had been, when the door of the pub opened and in came Cameron’s friend the reporter.

  He joined us at the table and after the polite introductions I went to the bar to fetch some drinks.

  On my return to the table, they were discussing the situation regarding the young soldiers, and the reporter said that he was doing an article on them and that’s why he’d been late in arriving.

  My father then remarked that it was sad to hear about the loss of life of two young soldiers who were the pawns, placed in a situation they would rather not have been in.

  The reporter replied flippantly, ‘They get well paid to be there, so they know what they’re doing when they join up, and dying for their country is part of the game!’

  The situation was becoming very heated within a very short space of time and I immediately feared for the smug reporter’s boyish good looks, for I could see the hackles beginning to rise in my father’s neck as he pointed out that ‘they were only young boys, sent over to another country to save lives by keeping both sides apart and thereby maintaining peace.’

  The reporter was having none of it and replied with a short, sharp and resounding, ‘Tough!’

  The word ‘Tough’ had barely left his lips, and I doubt very much if he saw it coming, or remembers much about it afterwards, but it coincided with my father’s big fist coming the opposite way, directly across the table and connecting full on with the reporter’s face, knocking him clean off his seat, where he landed flat out on his back, about ten feet away, totally unconscious!

  Cameron did not appear to be the least bit surprised at the outcome of the heated discussion between my father and his daughter’s boyfriend and he signalled for me to get my father out of the pub quickly, while he attempted to try and bring the boy round.

  Along with my father, we left the premises and stopped a taxi to take us home, although I did encounter some resistance from my father, who wanted to remain there and finish off his drink.

  About an hour after we had arrived back at his house, the phone rang and I answered it. It was Cameron.

  I made to apologise for my father’s behaviour towards his friend, but Cameron interrupted.

  ‘Are ye kidding? Fuck him! I knew he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. That’s why I invited him to come along. He was bound to say something during the night about the army or the navy, and knowing your old man, it was only a matter of time, but I didn’t expect the big man to react so quickly. What a dull yin he gave him. He’s been totally sparkled ever since!’

  On hearing this, I had to ask Cameron, ‘So why invite him along if you knew that he would say something that would upset my dad and end up like it did?’

  ‘Cause I can’t stand him, but I couldn’t do anything myself! He’s been dating my daughter, but he’s bad news – pardon the pun. He’s a cheeky, arrogant bastard and I don’t like him one bit. But my daughter doesn’t see it and refuses to listen to me.

  ‘Listen, Harry, I’ve been in your old man’s company long enough to know how he reacts to anybody making remarks about the forces, and I also knew this bastard wouldn’t be able to bite his tongue once they started talking. He’s a reporter after all, can’t keep his big mouth shut, but he’ll maybe shut it now!

  ‘By the way! He didn’t remember a bloody thing about what happened tonight!’ Cameron paused before adding, ‘He’s some man, big Freddie, you don’t mess about with him.’

  So, in effect, he had orchestrated the entire event, knowing my father would not be able to sit and listen to someone bad-mouthing the armed forces without reacting.

  However, I’m glad to report that it backfired on Cameron when his daughter announced she was pregnant, and it didn’t need to be front-page news to guess who the father was.

  Now he had a future son-in-law who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and a pregnant daughter who couldn’t keep her legs shut!

  Restoring Life

  …

  A cop was driving along a country road one day when a hare ran across the road in front of him.

  He quickly took evasive action and slammed on the brakes and swerved, but could not avoid accidentally hitting the hare.

  He got out of his police vehicle to see if it was alright, but unfortunately the hare was dead.

  As he stood at the side of the road holding it, a car with a lady driver pulled up to see what was wrong.

  The police officer told her what had happened.

  ‘Hold on a minute. I have an idea,’ said the lady, as she produced a small can from her handbag and sprayed the hare.

  Suddenly the hare started to move and, as the policeman put it down, it waved its little paw at them and hopped off down the road, stopping every few feet to turn back and wave to them while they looked on. It continued doing this until it was out of sight. The policeman was amazed by this and asked the lady what was in the can.

  The lady replied, ‘Hairspray! Restores life to your dead hair and gives it a permanent wave!’

  The Body Swerve

  …

  On certain occasions when they were short of manpower, you would be detailed an area to patrol, outwith your normal beat area. Such was the case one nightshift when Dick was sent to Dalkeith to work.

  As luck would have it, the duty sergeant was an old buddy of his from the CID who had been recently promoted.

  As a result, he
was detailed to take out the divisional Land Rover and patrol the outlying areas that had shops and factories.

  The area was huge, stretching some 400 square miles in total, and was policed during the day by single-man-operated stations, but at night it was patrolled by the divisional HQ.

  By three a.m. he had covered the southern part of the beat area and was now heading up to the northern part, near to the city boundary, an area that he was familiar with and had worked on several occasions. He stopped next to a small line of shops for a short break and a rest from driving in the constant rain.

  After a short while, he drove along to the local bowling club to check it, and as he was walking along the path, he stumbled and fell over something in the dark.

  Getting up from the ground, he put on his torch to discover he had tripped over the dead body of a well known alcoholic from the area.

  It appeared that he had fallen over whilst under the influence and had choked to death on his own vomit.

  By this point, it was getting close to finishing time and he did not wish to incur overtime filling out a sudden-death report and a lengthy visit to the mortuary. So he lifted the deceased up and placed him in the rear of the police vehicle and drove him over the boundary, into another force area, where he stopped the vehicle, dragged him out, propped him up against a newsagent’s shop doorway, and left him to be discovered.

  This accomplished, he then made his way back to the police station to go off duty as normal.

  However, on reporting for duty the following evening, he was taken aside by the shift sergeant and informed about the local alcoholic, from their area, who had died from choking on his own vomit, and had been discovered by the early shift of the adjoining force, in the doorway of the newsagent’s.

  He then asked him if he knew anything about it.

  Dick calmly asked the sergeant why he was telling him all this, when the deceased was found by another force, and in another area!