NUTZ & BOLTZ – PART 5

Mary-A, can she trot along or wot, bruv?

Nutz and Boltz watch Mary-A sprint across Herdwick pooping Park towards the food stalls.  The excitement almost making thems forget the evil sniffy hindlegs and his roundlegs wotz sleeping in Nelson Avenue.  Almost.

Right then, Nutz sez Boltz wot particular hard fours yu got in mind?

Henry init, bruv

Wot, the Henry?

The very same

The very same wotz over there, sleeping his fat butt off, under the Istanbool?

Both brothers regard the English Mastif, flat out, solid and immovable, snoring his head off under the donner kebab stand.

Believe me bruv, he’s bangin‘ hard AF!

Boltz snorts.

Plus, bruv, me and Henry, we’re tight…

Boltz turns his snout towards Giblets and Tuffy think this job need some bigger numbers, mate

Both brothers regard a vigorous plum bob scratching contest taking place between the Staffy Bull Terrier and the Brindle Boxer nearby Fong’s noodles stall.

Thems boys sure got their priorites straightened Nutz states next?

Boltz hesitates sniffed Treacle beforenows the magnitude of the task starting to sink its teeth in.

Treacle’s a right hero – but ain’t he blind?

Thinking he might get old sixlegs up to ramming speed, hmm, sort of, and ram–

Nah, wot about GitOrrf!?

Don’t be a muttwit, he’s smaller than yu!

But his hearts big, init bruv, d‘yu know wot I’m sayin‘?

Nutz is always keeping both snout holes open on the sniffy wind for icecream scoops spilling on the grass, chickens sticks dropping in bins, donna kebabs tossed away or forogtten on park benches.  The sniffy wind also carries the unmistakable sniff of Duncan.

Ah, snifz it up, bruv and the brothers raise their collective snouts towards the entrance of Herdwick pooping park.

Trotting through on cue is PC Andersen with his faithful hound.

Wot, him? Boltz chortles.

Corss, him.  Hardest of all thems hardest core’ist fourlegs in West Pid, yu know.  Right here, right nows in pooper’s park, when we most needs him

Boltz stretches back legs, curving his belly to the ground and let’s rip a long squirt.

Yu forgetting one thing

Wotz that then, bruv?

He’s Fed, and Fed don’t give a poop

Wotz it to be, Turkish or Chinese, Thai or Chips?

The sniffy wind is carrying colours from all over – hindlegs, fourlegs and food stalls. All thems hard police duties after the purply sniffers now requires a bit of sensible balancing with other important police noshing duties.

On the other paw, how abouts we nosh all o‘ thems!

His snoutz also aware of all the hungry colour fuming off PC Andersen.

He wants some police noshing, too –  even though I done all the work

There ain‘t nothing lyk policework to work up an appetite. That’s the plain truth of it.  Beforenows, Duncan’s had a tough morning guarding the nosheries of Westley Piddle High Street, helping out the store owners offload unwanted nosh, cautioning fourlegs, and generally keeping the peace. And don’t forget some pertinent licking up and chomping down a few other noshy misdemeanours along the way.

Cloudes are scraping and fidgeting up above threatening another bout of rainlick. Loads of fours hanging abouts, too.  Wot else can yu expect when there’s a noshfest right in front of yor hairy black snout?

Enough of thems rhetoricals making me hungry

“comeonDuncan,fella“ PC Andersen steps into the park.

Trouble is, PC Andersen is not heading for the food stalls.

Wot the–

Nah.  He’s wobbling towards Herdwich Primary School where all thems hindlegs puppies are playing outside with their pack families.

Duncan, being a right solid professional, switches his snout into secondary noshing mode. Sniffing out all thems orange colours of dropped salt’n’vinegar chips, icecreams, cup cakes, gum, bread rolls and, wotz particularly encouraging, chickens satay sticks. 

“nonsense,nonsenseandmorenonsense“ PC Andersen packleader scritches at hindlegs as they wobble by; scritching hello nonsense, scritching about the weather nonsense, and generally scritching all sorts of nonsense, all supposedly wot the law‘s supposed to be scritching about on a meet and greet day.

Snifz yu, Duncan Nutz bounces up sniffing at Duncan‘s butt wotz strictly off limits, being Thames Valley Police property.

Snifz yu, cuz  Boltz bumps snoutz.

Snifz yuz, too, lads.  Wotz up?

The usual, d’yu know wot I’m sayin‘, cuz

Nosh?

The attempt of – at Nutz finishes his investigations and returns to Duncan’s front end.

Keeping the peace is more important than noshing, boys Duncan intones solemnly.

Totally agrees Nutz

Unless it impedes with keeping the peace, I suppose quips Boltz.

Duncan surveys the scene right then, where‘s the good nosh at?

“nonsenseandmorenonsense“ PC Andersen packmate is now scritching with OldSchool – wot with OldSchool being his primary school teacher a good many summers beforenows.

The brothers don’t answer, eyeballing the big slab of Dobermann, snoutz twitching in expectation.

Yes? No? Wotz worth noshing? Simple questions, lads

We need yur help blurts Nutz.

Duncan shakes his large head, earflaps flapping in a blur. 

Assisting the removal of nosh from the scene is wot Thames Valley PDs are fully trained to expedite

Wot he means is Boltz continues we need yor real help

Ah-huh?

Wot he means is – erh, wotz we both means is, we needs yu to go gnaw the plum bobs right out from under some suspiciously sniffy hindlegs

Ah-huh!

Uh-huh the two Jack Russels reply as one, pointing their snouts across Herdwick pooping park towards the suspicioulsy sniffy hindlegs sitting in his sleeping roundlegs on Nelson Avenue.

Wotz that hindlegs got to do with nosh, then?

Duncan follows their snouts and narrows his eyeballs at the roundlegs. Sure, there is the faintest snifz of blue-purply trouble on the sniffy wind but the snifz not solid enough to go gnawing on plum bobs. Unless PC Andersen comands him to do it.

“timetocheckoutthefoodstalls“ PC Andersen finishes his endless scritching with OldSchool and pulls Duncan up onto his paws.

Snifz yu ‘round abouts lads, urgent police business coming up, so keep into the nosh and out of trouble

With that parting shot of wise advice Duncan happily follows PC Andersen towards the next police noshing op.

Nutz and Boltz watch him go.

Boltz turns to Nutz as I barked, he’s Fed, and Fed don’t give a poop

Smackers catches Mary-A with her snout inside a black plastic bin liner.

“non,non,non“ Smackers wrenches the Poodle out, a stick of tandoori lamb cubes in Mar-A‘s chops.

“leeveit!mapetiteprincess!“

Smackers pulls at the stick.  Mary-A chomps down, refusing to give way.

All of a sudden Herdwick pooping park turns upside down – literally – as Smackers picks up Mary-A, back legs first and shakes her vigourously.

“leeveit!!“

Wot yer doing Mary-A? Boltz trots onto the scene having never seen an upside down Poodle before.

Eayyyyating lamb kebabs corss, waaaaawotz it look lyyyyaahk, muttwit? she bounces up and down.

“leeveit!!“

Brilliant, any left?

Shoooooould beeeeahhhh

“LEEVEIT!!“

She’s right, it’s bangin‘ in here, bruv Nutz mufled voice comes from inside the bin liner. His head pops out, mouth full of sticks taste any better upside down Mary-A?  

I‘yeee dooooon’t knoowaahhh!

One final bounce and Mary-A drops the stick wotz immediately snatched away by Nutz, corss. 

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