“At 19.02 Mrs Debbie Jenkins of 113 Henleaze Way was in the living room talking on the telephone.

-Inspector Watervole!!! My favourite! So enigmatic!!! I’d take down his particulars anytime!- She said

-perhaps you could get your husband to dress up- her friend, Mrs Frobisher, of 55 Draycott Close responded.

-Who? Brian? Don’t be silly. He hasn’t got an intriguing bone in his body. Those handcuffs Cheryl bought me are still unused. He’d only notice me if I was stark naked covered in ketchup and lying on some chips!!! But I’d accompany Watervole to the station anytime!-said Mrs Jenkins

This statement was accompanied by laughter.

A burst of thunder and lightning occurred at 7.06. At which point Mrs Jenkins said that she heard some rustling, from the kitchen.

She then said. -I’ve got to go got get the chips off the heat and there maybe someone in the kitchen, I’ll get back to you later- the call was then terminated. Mrs Frobisher has corroborated this conversation.

At 19.06 The electricity failed and the house became dark causing Mrs Jenkins to feel her away across the kitchen with a lighted match, proceeding Eastwards in the direction of the cooker.

Once there, she discovered the chip pan was empty.

She then says she called to her husband, Mr Brian Jenkins domiciled at the same address, who she believed was upstairs at the time.

-Brian have you eaten all the chips again? You greedy bugger!!! Come down here! The leccys off-

Mr Jenkins did not answer.

At approximately 19:07 Mrs Jenkins, whose eyes were now accustomed to the dark, saw a chipped potato on the floor. She lit another match and discovered that Chips had been arranged in a trail towards the backdoor.

She followed these into the garden and at 19:08. arrived at the Garden shed observing that it’s padlock had been broken.

At 19:10 Ms Langley of 115 Henleaze Way observed Mrs Jenkins from her window. She heard Mrs Jenkins exclaim -Brian! What are you doing in there, stop playing silly beggars.-

Mrs Langley reported that at this point, a naked “monster” covered in blood, emerged and grabbed her neighbour before retreating back with her into the wooden outbuilding.

Mrs Langley added that “loud shrieking” then emanated from the shed and she felt compelled to ring the police.”

PC Pinemarten cleared his throat, he looked a little nervous.

“And on arrival you discovered that no one was dead, that the reported “blood” was in fact ketchup, And the naked monster was Mr Jenkins attempting to spice up his marriage, Is that correct?” asked Inspector Stoat.

“Yes sir” said PC Pinemarten.

“And that Mrs Jenkins has made no complaint against her husband?”

“She said that she’d have preferred him to have taken off the gardening gloves sir.”

“Then what the bloody hell are they doing here, half dressed and taking up a cell?” screamed Inspector Stoat.

“I thought we might charge them with wasting police time sir” said the young policeman.

“Get out!” roared the inspector, he had a good mind to bust the hapless constable back to traffic. However when Mrs Jenkins winked and said that she’d waste police time whenever the inspector wanted, he relented and reminded himself that even he had been a raw recruit once upon a time.