The Creeps: A Samuel Johnson Tale - Plot & Excerpts
The sun was shining, the pies were good, and all was well with the world. “Hello, Sergeant,” said a passerby, walking his dog. “Criminals taking a day off today, are they?” Sergeant Rowan smiled. When he chose to use it, he had a smile like a fatal gunshot. “Do you have a license for that dog?” he said, and the man hurried quickly along. Constable Peel sipped his tea. “Do you think criminals actually take days off, Sarge?” said Constable Peel. “I mean, if they’re on holiday and someone leaves a car unlocked or a wallet unattended, do criminals think, ‘No, I’m not stealing that, I’m on my holidays’?” Since he’d been dragged to Hell, and then escaped, Constable Peel had begun to take a different view of life. His belief was that any day that didn’t involve demons, the undead, or being hauled off to Hell was a good day as far as he was concerned. “I don’t know, Constable, but here comes a criminal. Let’s ask him.” Sergeant Rowan stretched out a hand and gripped a passing dwarf by the collar.
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