Inspector Pigshit marched purposefully through the doors of Edinburgh City Council, waving his Police Scotland ID as he brushed past the girl in reception.
“Hey!” yelled a jobsworth security guy who worked for whatever company it was these days who had the contract for security at council HQ. “You can’t park there!”
“I already have, sunshine,” said Pigshit. “Look.”
“No, I mean, you’re not allowed to. You have to use the car park.”
“Bollocks to your car park,” said Pigshit. “I am a police officer on a very important case. If I wanted to use a car park, I’d bloody well use the Park & Ride and come in on a bus.”
“Aye, but you can’t leave your vehicle at the top of the steps.”
“Says who? Listen, mush: I am the fucking law. Any more lip from you, whether it’s about where I choose to park or not, and I’ll have you banged up for obstructing police work. You’re looking at five years, minimum.”
“Five years of breaking rocks and sewing mail bags in Saughton. Think about it.”
Pigshit and Steve brushed past the guard and walked over towards the lifts. Steve silently mouthed ‘wanker’ at the guard. Pigshit asked a bloke in a suit where Fowler’s office was. They got in the lift. Inspector Pigshit pressed 3 so that the lift would take them up to the third floor. The doors closed slowly.
The bloke in the suit, who had also entered the lift, stood in stoic silence.
“Small fucking Tardis this,” noted Pigshit.
“I know what you mean, Doctor,” replied Steve. “I blame the Daleks, actually.”
“Yeah,” huffed Pigshit. “Those fuckers.”
The lift gave a big grunt and lurched to a halt at the second floor. The bloke in the suit grinned nervously and got out.
The door closed again and Pigshit and Steve pissed themselves laughing.