The Cops in the Doughnut Shop

The Burp and The Rooster popped by on the weekend. Bay Leaf and Machiavelli were also with them but they hung around outside either hurtling down our driveway on their skateboards or making bows and arrows with skewers and lacky bands.

For some reason we were talking about the security arrangements at my work. I was saying that the gates through which you enter the building were so sensitive that even carrying an umbrella out from your body would make the gate think there were two people trying to get through on one card swipe, the horror and start shrieking its hideous warning of imminent disaster.

(I tell you, a conversation with me is a thrilling thing.)

The Rooster mused on this for a moment, "So you couldn't walk through with your arm out yelling, 'Heil Hitler!'?"

"No, that would be okay, because the gates only come up to about waist height."

There was a moment's silence and then The Burp said, "Well then, apart from umbrellas, it would really only be a problem for a man with an erection."