The citizens of Manchester were used to it by now. Every so often, every street would see a bronze Cortina screech to a skittering halt on the curb, and several coppers would pour out of it, and start making the rounds in whatever neighborhood it was that they were making inquiries in. Occasionally, it would be the upper-ranking detectives that
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Liked what you did with the title, you creative lady you :)
Oh those poor people, I doubt they knew what hit 'em :D After all, being confronted with Sammy Boy and The Gene Genie does tend to fill one with shock and awe. And confusion followed by betting, apparently ;)
I don't mind the lateness at all :)
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Gene ripping the photograph out of Sam's hand and "translating" was one of the early moments where I fell in love with that character so I love this!
Oh and ♥ the ending! The description of Gene as the "officer that talked like a human" is still making me chuckle.
Thanks!
as like a ripe peach arse like a ripe peach?
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This is just bloody hilarious. You've caught the pair of them perfectly, and of course Gene would always come across as the more human of the two - his gut instinct knows the people on his patch and how to deal with them. Remember Mrs Raimes and the pink wafers!
Please can we go live in Rockwell Street and twitch our net curtains whenever the cops squeal into view?
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