Off to get reprogrammed

I shall be receiving a dose of attitude adjustment, courtesy of a charming PC from the Thames Valley force, who couldn't believe his luck when he set off for his shift only to find me waiting to enter the car park - with my mobile phone pressed to my ear. The fact that my car was moving at less than walking pace is, of course, irrelevant. He was such a nice chap, I do hope I contributed in some small way to him hitting his monthly targets.

Anyhow, now I'm an enemy of society, I clearly need remedial treatment, which will be meted out in a [highly profitable] training session involving the use of dubious statistics and unsavoury photographs of RTA victims. If I appear suitably repentant, I will apparently be allowed my driving licence back, without the 3 strokes of the cane points I so richly deserve.

Meanwhile, the chap down the road who located his stolen van in an encampment of wheeled-homed-folk is still waiting for police to respond to his call. They needn't bother. It mysteriously burned to a crisp the other night.

DCI Gene Hunt was unavailable for comment.