Wellington (Waterloo)

Detective Martin Prendergast (Falling Down)

It ain't easy being a detective, particularly when you're one day from retirement and on the trail of a maniac.

So imagine my frustration when my high-maintenance wife calls the mobile as I'm having some thinking time in The Wellington with a pint and my partner, a frumpy Spanish officer-ess.

Amanda's yelling in my shell, telling me to come home early, to make a shopping list and to prepare for our move to the Lake District tomorrow. Christ, I don't even want to go. There's nothing in Cumbria but bridges, but hey what can you do.

Something in me snapped as she bleated. I mean, I'm still a cop right? I have a job to do, despite what that freakin' chief says (boy I'm angry - I never usually cuss)

So I thump my fist down on the filthy table and yell back at Amanda down the old Nokia. "Shut the hell up you vile old hag," I say. "Oh, and leave the friggin' skin on my chicken you murderous witch."

Like I said, I was angry. Perhaps I went a bit far.

I left the pub- which I've given a solid 3 out of ten rating (I'm a nice guy) despite it being a rubbish tip – to pursue my prey. Chased the maniac all the way to Southend pier.

There I shot and killed him. As he toppled over the edge into the Essex mist, I cleaned my boot's waffle out with a candy-floss stick. It was a bit sandy you see.

Detective Prendegast's rating for The Wellington – 3  / 10

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• Natural Selection,..

  “,….. Why didn’t they live to be 100?Huh? Well, they woz running round all day, hunting mammoths, eating berries,..rumping their little hearts out. No boozing or smoking. They must have been fit as fiddles. Yer Neanderthalls……….I’ll tell you why, it’s … Continue reading →