âIt was a dark and stormy night;Â the rain fell in torrents â except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets…da, dum; da, dum….the innocent children clustered round their CRB checked, grade 15 H & S monitored, fire drill compliant, nominated paramedic, trainee teacher, Peter (‘Pet’) Refried, who was taking them for their weekly swim at the Larkfield Leisure Centre. In another two years he would have completed Level One English and be qualified to teach that language to six year olds, but for now he had total responsibility for their psychiatric future – not one, nay one, of those innocent blameless faces would be forced into the hands of unscrupulous personal injury lawyers in later life…
He scanned the blustery horizon for signs of blond hair, traces of cigar smoke, crib sheets for right wing jokes – nothing, not even an abandoned plastic bag of scratched Showwaddydaddy records; the little ones were safe in his (wandering) hands….he led them across the road and into the changing rooms. Soon those lithe young bodies would be more vulnerable than ever, unclothed, naked; ‘Pet’ Refried twitched nervously.
A voice rang out from cubicle 3; reedy, wavering, scared, nay traumatised. It was Smytheson-Chambers Junior from the first year Latin group.
‘Sir, Sir, Pedo!, Pedo! in cubicle 4!’
The spectre of making endless statements to avaricious lawyers years after the event would have stymied a lesser man, but ‘Pet’ had spent three years training for just such an event. He knew what to do.
He gathered the little children round him: ‘One by one, little ones, we shall ‘file’ past the pedo; don’t look round, look straight ahead’.
Soon he had them all safelyÂ outsideÂ in the car park in the violent gusts of wind, under the stormy sky, getting drenched.
Smytheson-Chambers had slipped on the steps and smashed his front teeth, Dickinson Senior was cryingÂ becauseÂ he’d left one of his new Nike Free 5.0 trainers on top of the Coca Cola machine. But they were safe. He had done his job. He had saved them from a fateÂ worseÂ than death. He was a leg-end in his own time. To think that moments before they had been in the sameÂ buildingÂ as a Pedo!Â
Inside the echoing leisure centre, Jake the Peg hauled himself out of the water and as sinisterly as he could, hopped back to the changing cubicles. He liked coming to the Larkfield, it was so quiet and blissfully child free…..
Sheesh! I can’t make this stuff up, you’d never believe me.
See if you believe the media. Children removed to safety after prosthetic leg discovered in swimming pool changing rooms.
Pedo, not paedo, you bell-ends.