DPDA Case No. 10

The tenth case of the DPDA was a significant case for the DPDA, earning the agency recognition in the north of England. The following case file was written by Benjamin Sellars.

## Case File

It was a cold and foggy January morning, I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. ''Ring, ring, ring.'' When I picked up the phone, a thick, North Yorkshire accent spoke to me. He told me that he ran an old bread mill where they made bread in the town of Skipton. He told me that over the past weeks, his bread and cheese had been going missing at that he had suspected that it was a group of thieves. He told me that he wanted the DPDA's assistance. I told the man we'd be in touch, and I drove my car to the DPDA Headquarters.

I alerted Cecil, Denzel and Tim of what was happening, and they were more than happy to help identify the bread thief. We jumped in Denzel's brand new 1971 Hillman Imp, and began driving up to the town of Skipton. It was a long and grueling drive, but we eventually made it and met with the chief Bread-maker, Garcon Walter. He told us the story of what happened.

Mr. Garcon Walter was working late one January night, baking lots and lots of bread and cheese. Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from the storage room. This was highly unusual, as the only noise to come from the storage room was either wind or homeless people who would occasionally break in and hunt for a big bagel. He told us that when he went to look in the storage room, he saw the outline of a round thing, and immediately ran home, teriffied. The next morning, he returned to his beloved factory, where half of his breadsticks and bagels had been robbed. He laid down on the floor and cried for hours, before calling us.

We came up with a plan to lure the thief and decided that we should make some bread, not only to attract the potential thieves and then batter the fuckers, but also so that we could help Mr. Walter to recover his bread which had been lost the previous night. A good hour went by and the bread was finished, three days batches, Cecil even dropped a bit of molly into a couple of his breadsticks. And then, we heard the sound of footsteps in the storage room. But not just any footsteps, the footsteps were extremely fast like a pair of novelty chattering teeth. Denzel was scared. ''What on earth could possibly be running round in the storage room? The wind isn't heavy enough to make sounds of such magnitude, and homeless people never run.'' We decided that this was too unusual to ignore, so we grabbed our bread and all of the cheese, guarding ourselves with the massive baguettes. We slowly walked over to the storage room, when the door began violently rattling, the footsteps going at a hundred thousand miles per hour. The cheeky twat was restless. We had to protect the mill at all costs, which was the third most used establishment in the town of Skipton behind the local shop, the butchers and the brothel. Tim reached for the door handle, his hand shaking intensly. As the door opened, a creature sprinted to the bread conveyor belt, knocking Tim to the ground, scattering his bread and cheese.

That's when we got a look at the rapid prick. He was about four foot tall, and was a chubby little geezer. He had a massive belly, massiver than the massivest belly you could imagine, and weirdly had two eyes. He walked around the room like a homeless man, desperate to find a home, only this twat wasn't looking for a home, rather for the baker's noble bread. 'What be thou?'' said Denzel stunned. ''I am desperate for dough'' said the beast. ''But I also want cheese.'' he continued. ''I will kill all of your families if you don't give me your days bread.'' screamed the thing. Cecil threw all of his work at him, in fear that his beloved cousins and brother would be mauled by the man. The walking, speaking, cretin munched all the bread up. ''What are you, monster?'' Screamed Tim. ''I am Felix Kjelsberg, the owner of the local brothel.'' the beast replied. ''You're the owner of the brothel?'' screamed Cecil in awe. ''Yes I am, cunt, you best believe it. Now give me your damn dough balls, homie'' replied the owner of the brothel. We were not ready to give up, we were desperate to protect Skipton's bread mills at all costs. Tim, unlike us, was prepared. While making his baguette, he knew that what at the time we believed to be thieves would break in, so Tim baked a large piece of metal into his baguette. He smacked the fucker with the metal breadstick, and the twat toppled over and rattled around on the floor. Denzel stamped on the man's head and said ''This is for running a brothel, which is illegal under current United Kingdom law.'' The beast cried like a little cry baby, L.O.L.

We took the Swedish man to the local castle of Skipton - Skipton Castle, where Cecil asked the owners if the man could be executed. Strangely, the owners told us to go away. Instead, we went to the local police station, where we turned the man in for bread thievery and brothel owning. He was declared an enemy of the people of Skipton and bread all over the country. Myself, Tim, Cecil and Denzel were celebrated as heroes in Skipton, and were even rewarded by the owners of Skipton castle, who allowed them to spend one night in the Tudor Wing, where Cecil had a mad fun night.