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Marcus struggled to get the plastic square part  into place.  He reached for his hammer by his side and gave the square a few taps.  It didn’t budge.  

Strange, he thought.  Yesterday, it went through its hole easily.

He sighed heavily through his nose.  

Let’s see if I bang the hammer down on it instead, he thought.

Exasperated, he was about to pick up the entire thing and throw it against the wall when the phone rang. 

He crawled over and picked up the receiver.

What the hell, he thought as he looked at it.   Who cut its cord?

“Hello?” 

“Marcus, we need you down at the station immediately.  A new case has come in and we need your eyes over it.  How soon can you get in?” 

It was Jones.  Jones Jones.

Marcus rolled his eyes and let out another deep sigh. Jones. Again. With his constant demands.

Jones was the police officer of the local town.  That was his first name too. His parents who were police officers with a skewed sense of humour thought that by naming their first and only son with a surname would toughen him up to face the world.  

All it did was to make Jones stand offish with everyone in their team.   

“Okay, let me jump into my car and I’ll be there in five,” replied Marcus wiping the snot from his nose with his finger.

Marcus grabbed the set of keys lying on the carpet and crawled to his new black Audi TT RS.  He got into the front seat and slid his hands around the steering wheel feeling its smoothness beneath his sticky fingers.  When he received this car as a gift it was the best day of his life.  No matter that it was one from a strange man with a long white beard and wearing a red suit.  If this crazy nutter gives Marcus gifts every year, who was he to knock them back?

When Marcus arrived at the station, he felt rumblings in the pit of his stomach.

Something didn’t feel right. The station was deserted and some old hoodlum spray painted their tag on the wall near the station’s toilets overnight.  

Marcus cursed under his breath. Bloody adults nowadays.  

His stomach rumbled again but stronger.  He felt the pull deep down in his belly and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.  He had to find a toilet or there was going to be a nasty accident in his new car.  

He looked down and noticed he was wearing his Thomas the Tank Engine underpants today.

Crap, crap, crap.  What a time to have gotten off the nappies! 

“Oh there it comes, the turtle is out!” yelled Marcus as he opened the car door and quickly crawled to the toilets.