Of Mice and the Policeman

There was a thunderous knocking on my door.

I opened the door to find a rotund policeman perspiring on my doorstep.

"Do you stock poison?" he asked coming straight to the point.

"I only stock chocolates, balloons, and underwear," I replied indignantly.

"Are you a shop-keeper, than I must see your licence," he said slowly turning purple.

"No, I'm not a shop-keeper or your brother's keeper," I replied going green around the gills.

"How did you know about my retarded brother?" he asked suspiciously.

"It runs in the family then," I said suspiciously.

"What did they tell you about my family?" He asked his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing much, except that I thought they were kleptomaniacs," I said hastily.

"Klepto ... what?" he asked furiously dancing his pumpkin-like fist below my nose.

"Maniac," I replied.

"They are not maniacs," he snapped, "Some of them are mechanics."

"Oh! Do they repair perambulators?"

"Peram .... What? Don't be so grandiloquent," he said pompously.

"Forget it and I don't stock poison and you can look elsewhere for teargas?"

"It's the mice that complained that you were putting out poison cakes for them, and don't you dare teargas them either," he warned waggling a thick finger at me.

"The mice are kleptomaniacs," I retorted, "they even tried stealing my false teeth!"

"The dentist must have recommended false teeth for them," he said knowingly, "Do you know how many years in jail you can get for poisoning?"

"Many years to sing Praises to the Lord, I believe," I said.

"The mice will be happy," he said.

"Then who will I put out the cakes for?" I wailed.

"If it's good cake, I won' mind a slice," he said rubbing his fat hands.

"Do you want a candle or two also?" I asked.

"I don't want to be left in the dark," he replied rubbing his hands some more.

"Then you must wait for a power cut," I replied.

"I am night blind," he protested, "Would you take advantage of someone who is blind as a bat?"

"I ordinarily wouldn't," I said truthfully, "then there is PETA!"

"Are you threatening me?" he asked foaming at the mouth.

"You must have Mad Cow disease," I said regretfully.

"Madness in great ones must not unwatched go," he replied swelling his enormous belly, "Shakespeare said it."

"Did he put out birthday cakes for the mice?" I asked contemptuously.

"You will have to ask the mice that," he pointed out.

"The mice read Shakespeare?" I asked incredulously.

"It's a tail of two cities," he replied nodding his head.

"That's not Shakespeare, it's Charles Dickens," I said correcting him.

"Dickens did not have a pet mouse," he said gravely.

"How the dickens do you know that?" I asked surprised.

"He would have introduced it as a character in one of his plays then," he replied smugly.

"Quite possibly as a characterless mouse!" the policeman said.

"Walt Disney would not like that, nor would Tom and Jerry," I pointed out.

"They would like to read 'Of Mice and Men'," he replied.

"I would rather see the Spice girls," I said.

"I like Spice Girls," the policeman said thoughtfully.

"They poison mice?" I asked.

"Certainly not, they know that the mice are in cahoots with the tooth fairy," he said.

"What do they do?" I asked amazed.

"They give teeth to the dentists," the policeman replied.

"Quite a trade they must have!" I exclaimed wonderingly.

"Yes they play the stock market as well," he said knowingly.

"I don't know the rates for moth-eaten stock," I remarked.

"They recently knighted a stock broker," he said informatively.

"What's the worth of a knighthood these days?" I asked.

"It can get you a job in the supermarket as a shoe salesman," he replied.

"They can tell if the boot is on the other foot?" I asked surprised.

"Yes and they can also tell if you have your foot in the mouth," the policeman said.

"Even those with flat feet?"  I asked innocently.

"Don't abuse policemen," he barked.

"I didn't know that you had flat feet," I said humbly.

"You should be slow poisoned," he said heatedly.

"I will try that on the kleptomaniacs," I said brightly.

"I already told you that some of my family members are mechanics," he said defensively.

"Yes, I keep forgetting that they repair prams for baby mice," I replied.

"What's wrong with that, it's honest work," he argued.

"By the sweat of thy brow, thou shalt eat bread," I said philosophically.

"By the skin of your teeth more likely," the policeman said.

"I have bad teeth," I admitted.

"Can you bite your nails with them?" asked the policeman.

"Why?"

"It's a good rule of the thumb," he replied.

"Something like Rule Britannia?

"It's to put someone under your thumb," the policeman chuckled.

"Thumb impression!"

"I put them on all my underwear so that they don't get stolen," the policeman said.

"Thieves steal underwear?" I asked baffled.

"The underworld is very diverse," he said importantly, "everything can get stolen."

"I will have to think of keeping my false teeth in a bank locker then," I said worriedly.

"Banks allow you to keep anything, but underwear," he said.

"You can ask the Swiss Banks, they accommodate everything, even stolen underwear," I said lowering my voice.

"If anyone steals my underwear, I will teach them a lesson," he said angrily.

"You must teach them A, B,C first," I pointed out, "only then will they get to U for underwear," I said simply.

"I will make them u-turn in their under garments," he said annoyed.

"He who steals my purse steal trash," I said, "but he who steals my underwear pinches my bottom."

"You can always feel the bottom being pinched, if you don't have an expense account," the policeman said wisely.

"You could ask your wife for one," I suggested.

"I can't," he said breaking down, "my wife has all my credit cards."

"Now, now don't cry," I said soothingly, "I will give you some poison."

"You will?" he asked smiling through his tears.

"I will," I said.

"You are a jolly good fellow," he said slapping me on the back.

"How much do you want?" I asked.

"A kilo will do," the policeman said happily.

"You need so much?" I asked.

"She is built on the large size," he grinned.

"But I thought you were speaking about mice!" I exclaimed.

"That too," he said smugly.

"What about the judge who will be sentencing you to ten life terms?"

"I can't poison him!" he exclaimed shocked.

"Even your lawyer will not be able to get you off the hook," I said mildly.

"I will settle for mice then," he said despairingly.

"Like Mice and Men!" I said.

"Like a pipsqueak more likely," he replied and sauntered off with fat his belly swaying gently in the breeze.