'Eye one to the Royal party!' the radio squawked.' Male IC1 approaching the rear of the building..... Five nine, well built.............limp. Out.'

'Eye one, suggest seeing your proctologist for advice over your limp problem. Have you confirmed identity? Out.' Pawser barked back into the receiver.

'Royal party. Can I have the name of yours, if he's got time to treat any other patents? Identity confirmed ....he's our man. Suspect entering rear of property. We're going in. Out!'

'Going in? Out.'

'Yes. In. Out.' The loudspeaker buzzed with muffled laughter.

'What!' cried Pawser aghast. 'No warrants. Don't move? Don't go in. Out.'

'We're off boys. Thanks for the tip-off,' crackled the radio, 'To the victors, the spoils of war. You can now just butt. Out.'

Pawser chucked the handset down. 'Those shifty bastards Killerman they're going to stitch us up.'

'Not me matey.' snarled Killerman.

A moment later, a slightly dazed Pawser watched Killerman dodging around the front of the car and sprinting across the street.

Killerman, tall and rangy hit the front door at full speed and almost took it off its hinges. Pawser, not being so fit, made it to the door gasping for air, just in time to see Killerman motioning him toward a closed door in the hallway before he turned and ran toward the back of the building where he considered it more likely that he'd encounter Freddy coming in through the back door.

Pawser held his breath and peered warily down the corridor. The house had a strange smell reminiscent of dust mixed with bleach that he could not readily place. He stood for a moment expecting to hear the sound of Killerman encountering the Breitling boys coming in from the other end of the house.

Hearing nothing he moved warily down the hall. He gently opened the door a crack, slipped his head cautiously through the gap and peered into the room. The room was empty except for a number of plastic chairs placed around the walls. A lone table sat in the middle of the room with a rash of magazines scattered across it. Pawser let his breath out slowly in relief. He did not fancy encountering Freddy or anyone else come to that. An open doorway on the far side of the room caught Pawser's eye. He slipped stealthily into the room and slowly advanced toward it.

Momentarily he stopped at the table to pick up a thick magazine- 'Poodle Parlour Tricks' and rolled it tight in his hand. Should he encounter anyone in the other room he'd be ready to give them a dam good poodleing should things turn nasty. He crept toward the doorway. Peering into a narrow galley kitchen all he could see was a coffee making machine and a sink full of dirty cups .The room was empty. A washing basket overflowing with dirty towels sat on the floor next to a slowly turning washing machine. On the side lay a tool roll which Pawser unravelled to reveal multiple sets of scissors, hairbrushes and an electric hair trimmer.

Suddenly there was muffled bang and a cry from somewhere toward the rear of the building. Pawser turned and ran back through the room, down the hall toward where he had seen Killerman disappear through the door.

Pawser burst into the room at the back of the house. In the early evening gloom he could see two shadowy figures in the room that occupied the full extent of the back of the house. Down the right hand side he could pick out two large stainless steel sinks with shower heads on extendable hoses. On the far side two dogs ran two and fro frenziedly barking in a couple of cages built into the wall. The strange smell he'd encountered in the hall now knew to be a mixture of wet dog and shampoo.

The strange feeling his stomach was now encountering he now also knew to be a little niggle of uncertainty.

Pawser flicked the light on. Startled by the light, one of the figures, a young effeminate man sporting purple hair, matching coloured tee shirt two sizes too small, rapidly spun around to face Pawser.

'He shot Mr Pooky!' he yelled pointing an accusatory finger at the other figure.

Killerman, breathing heavily, face flushed with adrenaline was standing by the dog cages covering the purple haired youth with his gun.

Pawser looked around the room to see where Mr Pooky was. If Killerman had shot him, he'd cut him up and disposed of the body in record time.

'It was your fault you threw him at me!' yelled Killerman over the din of the dogs.

'You frightened me!' yelled the youth back and stamped his espadrille clad foot impetuously.

'Who the hell's Mr Pooky?' A baffled Pawser looked desperately around the room.

'Here. He's here. Poor Mr. Pooky. Look what that nasty man did to him.' The spiky haired lad replied despondently. He held out his arms showing Pawser a small poodle wearing a little purple jacket.

'Cuff him!' shouted Killerman to Pawser waving his wildly gun in the air.

'What with, Killerman? I haven't bought my poodle cuffs with me today.'

'Not the poodle. The poof !' cried an exasperated Killerman.

'This isn't Hawaii 5 O, Killerman. I don't have any cuffs. Why should I have cuffs. Have you?' Pawser quizzed Killerman.

'I'm not a poof. I'm just artistic.' interjected the lad who appeared reluctant to assist in the resolution of the issue of the missing handcuffs, poodle or otherwise.

'Yeh, and if we'd come in two minutes earlier I bet we'd have seen Mr Pooky parading up and down wearing a spiked leather collar and an sinister snarl saying 'I'm not a six ounce poodle, I'm a six hundred pound Rottweiler.' sneered Killerman.

'I'm sure Killerman doesn't think you're a poof. Like you say, you're just artistic.' Pawser reassured the poodle bearer, 'Anyway he didn't shoot you. He shot your dog.'

'He looks like a poof too,' interrupted Killerman distinctly unhelpfully.

Pawser glowered at Killerman, grabbed the dog and walked back to the front of the house. The others followed him. In the kitchen he pulled a towel off the rail and padded a dark stain on the dog's leg before inspecting the wound.

'It's a flesh wound. Hold the towel tight on it and it'll be fine,' Pawser handed the dog back to its owner and hissed at Killerman. 'How the hell did you manage to shoot his dog?'

'Well, he chucked it at me when I ran into the room. It could have been anything.' said Killerman haughtily.

'It looks like a poncy miniature poodle in a poncy purple outfit. What did you think it was going to do to you? Turn you into the Fairy Queen?'

'Well you weren't here.' protested Killerman. 'It could have been Freddy.'

'I don't think Freddy would be wearing a dog collar, a sweater that colour, being cuddled by a woofer with dyed hair wearing clips in his hair and espadrilles. Do you?'

'The clips are for the dogs actually,' the youth asserted whilst checking over his dogs' leg to be sure Pawser had got his diagnosis correct.

'I sure they are,' replied Pawser somewhat doubtfully. 'Anyway what's your name?'

'Derrick Lovelots.'

'Right Derrick, you'd better be straight with me otherwise Mr Pooky's going home with him tonight.' said Pawser nodding tellingly at Killerman. 'Where's Freddy?'

'Freddy?' replied Lovelots doubtfully.

'I'm not playing the parrot game with you, so you can stop repeating everything I say.' Pawser pushed his face up to Lovelot's and poked his purple woollen tee shirt threateningly with his finger, 'Where is he?'

'I haven't seen him today. Honestly.' Lovelot's confessed.

'Look Lovelots, unless you stop messing with me we'll be leaving Mr Pooky and Killerman alone in here for sixty seconds with the lights off ......and this.' Pawser picked up the battery powered hair trimmers and turned them on and off in the most menacing manner he could muster.

Killerman looked bewildered at Pawser's limp display of abject peril.

'You beast.' said Lovelots.

'Look at Killerman. Imagine what he could do with a hair trimmer and Mr Pooky in sixty seconds.' Pawser leered menacingly at Mr Pooky.

Lovelots looked at Killerman warily, then at Mr Pooky as if struggling with some inner demon.

'I can't do it, not to Mr Pooky. Not after all he's been through.' he cried and took a step toward Killerman 'Take me instead.'

Killerman shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the hair clippers off Pawser.

For a second Pawser was stuck as to what he was going to do next. Killerman reached out and grabbed Lovelots by the ear.

Lovelots let out a little high pitched yelp which surprised even Mr Pooky.

'The lights, if you will Pawser,' Killerman nodded calmly toward the light switch.

For a second Pawser stood confused by this unexpected development. Lovelot's looked wetter than a bottle of otters aftershave. He'd counted on him rolling over and giving up Freddy when faced with the prospect of spending any time alone in the dark with the unhinged Killerman.

He'd clearly misjudged Lovelots resolution.