Years ago I had a party in my room at an unnamed VIP Station in West London.
I invited several girlies along, a smattering of blokes (not enough to cramp my style
) and provided the music and booze.
As I knew it would be a late (and noisy) one, I did what I thought was the decent thing and invited the (Acting) Cpl Scuffer who lived at the end of the corridor.
He thoroughly enjoyed himself, chatting up the girls I had invited, drinking the booze I had provided and choosing music to put on my stereo.
A suitably drunk night was had by all, with a few of us even getting lucky with our female friends.
(I think you know where this is going now!)
Early next morning I was knocked up and dragged down the Scuffer Station. Proceeded to get a roasting for girls in the block, excessive consumption of alcohol, loud noise etc etc
When it was pointed out that A/Cpl X was actually AT the party the snivelling two faced snake insisted he had only gone along in a 'professional capacity' to 'gather evidence' as he 'suspected some girls would stay the night in male accomodation'.
The fact he was one of the few who didn't pull obviously had nothing to do with this subsequent police harrassment did it?
Never gave him the steam off my sh1t again, and have never seen him again.
His last name is one of those green things in the country that you walk up. And then walk down again.
Chopper
CC