Identikit Picture

114

     Bond swallowed. He was almost lost for words. “Sorry,” he just about managed to mumble, and made to remove his penis from the jerry can.
     The policeman held out the flat of his upraised hand as though Bond were oncoming traffic rather than a stationary urinator. “Hold it.” Without undue haste, now that he had captured his quarry, he took out a notebook and pencil, methodically licked the point of the pencil, then stood with it poised over the notebook. “Name?”
     “Bond. James Bond.”
     “Fuck off.”
     “No, really. I’m James Bond.”
     “Yes and I’m Dr fucking No.” The policeman jerked his head towards the car. “Get in the back.”
     Bond protested, pleaded. “Please. I really am James Bond.”
     The policeman looked Bond up and down suspiciously. He moved as close to him as the jerry can would allow and squinted at his face more closely. After a second or so Bond was pleased to see the light of recognition enter the policeman’s eyes. He wasn’t pleased for very long however, for now the policeman said: “I’m sure I’ve seen an identikit picture of you recently.” His face lit up, he was sure now. “I have! You’re the suspect we want to interview in connection with an incident in the Gents toilet at the Tesco Superstore the other day, aren’t you!”
     Bond gulped. “No. No of course not. I’m James Bond. As I keep telling you.”
     The policeman sneered. “Well if you’re James Bond, prove it.”
     “That could be a little difficult while I’m standing here with my dick in a jerry can,” said Bond, not unreasonably. “But if you’ll allow me to put it down for a moment?” ”
     The policeman took his time coming to a decision, then he said, grudgingly: “Go on then.” He put a hand to his belt, from which hung a baton, amongst the plethora of equipment policemen have hanging from their belts nowadays, making even the rare thin one seem overweight. “But no funny business, or….” He tapped the baton meaningfully.
     His hands free Bond quickly put his penis back into his trousers, first things first, then established his credentials, his name and photo on his Secret Service ID card working wonders. He then told the policeman exactly why he was in Stockport, filled him in with his progress so far, and explained what he was currently doing and how it had been curtailed by the theft of his car.