Missing Details


They slithered the last few feet of the nerve-wracking descent, mercifully cushioned by the springy surface at ground level.

"There's the car, look!" Doyle panted, stumbling to his feet. "Right way up, too!"

"Don't know--how far we'll--get--this time," Bodie gasped, grabbing his arm to steady him. "Still feel--travel sick after--urghh--"

"And the perishin' NOISE! Get in, quick!" Doyle tugged at the door handle. "What the--? Soddin' door won't open! Looks as if the bastards have welded it!" He peered helplessly through the window at the back seat where he had enjoyed so many intervals of rest and refreshment in less frantic times.

"This side too." Bodie leaned against the Capri in exhaustion. "Feel as if all my joints are seizing up!"

"Mine too," Doyle mumbled with a certain lack of precise articulation. "Must be arthritis setting in. I need a run-off."

"So do I. Here?"

They contemplated their surroundings uneasily, shrugged, and unzipped to deal with their bladders' exigencies.

Doyle gulped. "Bodie--I--you--!"

A stunned blue gaze met his own. "Where--? How--?" Bodie looked completely unmanned.

"Bodie! Watch out! They're back! Bodie!"

A colossal hand, podgy and dimpled, swooped down upon the Capri and propelled it around a demented series of invisible hairpin bends, accompanied by eldritch vocalizations of "VROOOOOMMMMMM! SCCREEEEEEEE!"

But Doyle hardly noticed, for his partner had been swept up by immense feminine fingers, and was being raised to a face that would have been attractive but for its gargantuan proportions. A voice sweetly thundered: "Anatomically incorrect! What happened to the fine details?"

"Bodie!" Doyle wailed, and prepared to assault the immense foot. But his gun refused to fire, and his fists made no impression on her shoe.

Despairing, he cast his mind back to long ago. Craning his neck, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled: "Oi, missus, please can I 'ave my Bodie back?"

She couldn't even hear him over the titanic brat's sound effects. He would have to shin right up her leg and do his best to distract her...

With what?

How was he supposed to function without the essential accoutrements?

"Where's our cocks, damn you!?" he howled impotently as a hideous mechanical shrilling deafened him.

"Usual place." Bodie silenced the alarm clock and wrapped him in a comforting hug. "Wake up, angelcrud!"

"Oh god!" Doyle groped in blind panic. "Can't feel--"

"That's mine. Here's yours," Bodie reassured him with a knowing caress. "What do you want done with it?"

"Ough! Leave off, will you!" Doyle realized he sounded ungrateful. "Sorry, really got to pee. Thank god I can!"

"Told you not to have that indigestible apple and cocoa before bed. No wonder you get nightmares," Bodie told him smugly. "Geraldine Mather and the broken elastic again?"

"This giant toddler kept pushing the car about, and then his mum stuck us on the mantelpiece, and afterwards she--" He shuddered. "Kate Ross and Geraldine Mather and that big gymnast all rolled into one couldn't-- Thought we'd never be priapismic again! Soon as I've been to the bog I'm setting my model soldiers free!"

Bodie shook his head bemusedly. "Should stick to beer and sausage-and-bacon butties for late supper like me. Get a move on or we won't have time to make sure everything's still attached and working."

"What's the time, anyway?" Doyle peered at the clock as he started towards the bathroom. "Half past flippin' dawn!"

"Supposed meet the Cow for special duty at Buck House by eight," Bodie reminded him.

"Oh shit!" Doyle stopped in the doorway. "Don't think I can stand the Palace today!"

"Mrs Thatcher's going to be there," Bodie offered enticingly. "Cowley said there's a whisper she's been practising a headlock to try out on the Queen. Perhaps her elastic--"

"Not Mrs T that's worrying me," Doyle sighed. "Just got this sudden feeling that if I get within arse-kickin' distance of one of those little... Bodie, is it high treason if you commit GBH on one of the royal corgis?"

-- THE END --

June 4, 1999.
This version has been re-edited.

NOTE: A reissue of the Corgi 1/32 scale model came in January 1999. The car now has some additional fine-detailing (e.g. the UOO 303T number plate) and the figurines are now of a superior quality, though there is no Cowley. See the picture at The Professionals authorized site.

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