The long arm of the law
24.01.06 by Mike Bessenger
As told to Mike by a London bicycle messenger. Please note that this is unsubstantiated first-hand account. We think it’s well worth repeating here.
“was coming up XXXXXXX XXXXX road on monday night, pedestrian crossing outside XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX gallery, no pedestrians, carried on through, police on mountain bikes on the other side on the pavement shout stop. decide i’m not in the mood for a fine and they’re not gonna catch me anway. off i go, left at XXXXXX XXXXXXX st, right up XXXXXXX st, policeman on foot sprints out and fucks me right up.
manages to knock my right foot into my front wheel, rips out spokes, jams wheel on forks and sends me over, steel forks bent all over the shop and sheered at the crown, get face-down-wet-tarmac-knee-in-the-back handcuff job, back of a van, down to the station, strip searched.
held in a cell overnight on the grounds that they’re too busy to deal with me so the morning shift will have to sort it out, given that THREE policemen went to my house just to check it wasn’t a false address, TWO were chasing me on bikes and came back to the station just to search me, FOUR policemen accompanied me in the van back to the station for f&ck knows why. they were obviously rushed off their feet.
let out of my cell at 9am by the morning shift who were pretty sound. they said stuff like ‘hope you don’t think that all police are like that’, ‘this should have been dealt with on the street’ and most importantly ‘c7nts’.
apparently they fucked up the paperwork and forgot to do stuff like dna too. anyways, i’m in court on tuesday for three charges. not stopping for a red light (at a pedestrian crossing), failing to stop for the dibble (they were blatantly gonna be w1nkers anyway), and dangerous driving (what the f&cking f&ck do they think i’m gonna knock down i’m not driving a monster truck its a f&cking track bike). aaaggggghhhhh!
i’ve always disliked the term ‘pigs’, i always found it really vulgar and unjustified. that was until right in front of my very eyes their luminous yellow jackets, gloating smarmy faces and laughter at the site of my mangled bike psilocybin-morphed into a dirty pink trottered mass, squealing and snorting in one big narcissistic swine orgy.
in the words of the rapper jay dee ‘on the count of three say f*** tha p******, one two three, f*** tha p******’.
maybe i’ll have a career in hip hop now.
peace and free range produce out.”
Names and dates have been changed…
Motto: as ever, cheat and don’t get caught.
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