‘Wait’ she said, shifting slightly so that she had her bush between where we were secreting ourselves and the distant flame-lit ceremony taking place across on the Much Fondling village green. ‘I’m sure they will bring the cauliflower out when the church clock strikes midnight.’
I crawled closer to her bush and gestured for her to pass me the binoculars. It took a second or two to refocus the binoculars, but what I saw then brought a lump to my throat… as well as to my trousers.
Out on the Much Fondling village green, the ceremonial Lord High Baster of the Roast Dinner was wielding his gravy ladle with the ease and dexterity of one well-used to such arcane practices.
The naked librarian over whom he was ladling the mystic unguents was chanting the ancient dark rites along with the rest of the villagers gathered there. Never before had I truly appreciated the full erotic force of a medley of Cliff Richard’s early hits.
I glanced across at Maureen, secreted there behind her bush and nodded. ‘Yes,’ I whispered and swallowed ‘Any time now… any time soon they will bring out the cauliflower.’
It was far more than we had expected when our undercover perversions squad got the call to attend the UK’s Central Perversion Enforcement Directorate’s Head Office. There had been rumours, of course, but the commissioner assured us that he and the weasel were just good friends. However, once he saw that we were prepared to accept his word as a perverteer of good standing, he began to outline our new mission.
Apparently, there were some other rumours doing the rounds that didn’t involve the CPED UK’s commissioner and his weasel, concerning certain perverse activities in the vicinity of the village of Much Fondling which could contravene several EU directives of the Rude and Naughty, including use of an unlicensed gravy ladle in a perverse act.
Just as Much Fondling’s Post Mistress arrived with the watermelon and the ceremonial water pistol, Maureen decided we had seen enough. She turned to the four policemen accompanying us and told them it was time to stop secreting their helmets and to come out from under Maureen’s bush to make an arrest.
Luckily, we were just in time to stop the High Baster of the Roast Dinner from pouring a ladle full of cheese sauce over the awaiting cauliflower. Once the awaiting villagers had begun to anoint each other’s naked bodies with the cauliflower cheese, it would have been too late to stop the debauchery from getting out of hand. From past experience not even the mallards on the village duck pond would be safe after something like that was allowed to run rampant and unchecked.
Fortunately, we were there to save the day. As the policemen led the handcuffed miscreants away, Maureen began collecting the evidence.
‘This cheese sauce is still warm,’ she said to me, with a glint in her eye.
I looked around; everyone was out of sight, putting the suspects into the van.
‘Perhaps we ought to check that it really is cheese sauce,’ I said, wiping a sudden sheen of sweat from my brow. ‘I… I’ll… I’ll get the cauliflower.’
‘Y…ye… yes…’ Maureen said, already unbuttoning her CPED UK uniform tunic as I rushed across the village green to grab the cauliflower.
*CPED UK - Central Perversion Enforcement Directorate UK.