INT. POLICE STATION. DAY.
A TYPICAL CHAV WALKS UP TO THE MAN AT THE FRONT DESK.
CHAV
You PC Kempt?
PC
That is indeed me.
THE MAN RIPS FORTH WITH A TYRAID OF ABUSE AND SWEARING. PC KEMPT JUST STANDS THERE TAKING IT AND SMILING, WIPING THE ODD PIECE OF SPIT AWAY. THE MAN FINISHES HIS TYRAID.
PC
Thanks.
CHAV
No problem.
THE CHAV LEAVES. PC PRESSES STOP ON A PREVIOUSLY UNSEEN DICTAPHONE AND THROWS IT IN A BOX.
WE PAN TO THE BOX TO REVEAL.
"SWEARING AMNESTY. PLEASE CONTACT PC KEMPT"
"2034 OBSCENITIES TO DATE"
END
