Bunny gets criss crossed

The great escape was far easier than I could have imagined. The man not called Joe had never returned and all the other not called Joe types seemed to take a more a laissez faire approach to looking after prisoners.

When the leader had first disappeared they had let me out twice a day for walkies, much like one might let out a hound. Within days these outside times became all day. In truth I was glad when they eventually called time to go back to my cell and I could once again listen to BBC6. Oh yea, they put that on too. Apparently they all hated the Barlow fella.

I noticed the jailers were all keen photographers and avid users of that blend of camera they call Polaroid. For me I have always shyed away form that particular brand as it reminds me of the word haemorrhoid. Maybe that's just me.....

Anyhow one day the little band of brothers and sisters were so engrossed in their debate around something called lovers of light, that I simply carried on walking and would you know it, I found myself at the Waters of Leith area in that there Edinburgh. I was very bemused by my place of incarceration having assumed I was in the Guantanamo Bay Area....

I made my way to the local fuzz shop on a certain Ferry Road and was promptly shown into a side room to await to be seen by a 'senior officer.'

I sat for several minutes reading posters about drug use and violence and found myself wondering if these were adverts for or against. Eventually the door opened and a man in uniform arrived followed by another fellow who cheerily said,

'Hello Mr Scott, how lovely to see you again.'

I realised I had stopped breathing about the same time as I recognised the voice of the non uniformed man was the man who was not called Joe.....


to be continued....

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