Calmly dealing with crime

A Home Office minister has suggested people "distract" potential criminals while waiting for police to intervene....Tony McNulty MP agreed that jumping up and down could help.

Mr McNulty says people waiting for help can "get back to the police, try some distractive activities."

"Hello, hello. Is that the police?"

"You've come through to the Home Office, sir. What seems to be the problem?"

"There's a man. He's hitting an old lady. Right here, on the street outside my home!"

"We'll send someone 'round. But I'm sure he's not. Probably just a bit of youthful high spirits"

"No. Oh look! He's hitting her again. And trying to push her over!"

"Have you tried hopping?"

"What?"

"Have you tried hoppping at him?"

"He's a tough looking chap. All covered in tattoos. Why would I hop at him?"

"Well, it might distract him."

"Distract him? You need to arrest him. I ought to go out there and punch him. The big bully!"

"Now sir, don't talk about punching him. That might well be illegal and there's no need. Studies have shown that a quick distracting manoeuvre is far more likely to be effective. Also, there's less chance of you being attacked if you restrict yourself to non-violent action. Have you got a post horn by any chance?"

"A what?"

"Well, any musical instrument would do really. Although a piano might be difficult. Do you play the cornet perhaps? Or the saxophone? Nothing like a good blast on the saxophone to sort out a bit of street violence."

"No, no, sorry. I've nothing like that. I used to be quite good on the drums though. Oh! Oh dear! He's thrown her to the ground. He's kicking her."

"Oh dear! That is nasty! We're really trying to get someone to you as fast as possible, but we're a bit short-staffed at the moment. I tell you what. Have you still got the drums?"

"Drums? Drums? No, no! I got rid of them years ago."

"Oh dear! That's too bad! No musical instruments at all then?

"No. Sorry!"

"Shame! Well, we'll have to put our thinking caps on then, won't we?"

"Yeees, I suppose we will."

"Got it!"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Stereo! Stereo!"

"What?"

"Stereo! Do a General Noriega on him! Quite a slick idea, though I say so myself! Point your speakers out the window, play something really loud and Bob's your uncle. Or Panama's your hat. He goes all woozy. Loses the will to fight! Loses his edge. His focus. You know the sort of thing! Seen it a thousand times."

"So I play him something like the 1812 Overture, you mean? Or Metallica? Or Deep Purple? Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell. Symphony of a Thousand."

"Or you could just try Cliff Richards really loud!"

"OK. OK. I'm trying it. Turning the speakers 'round now. Putting on the Meatloaf CD. Oh! Oh dear!"

"What? What? Speak to me, sir! Don't give up now! You were doing so well! He hasn't run away has he?"

"No! No! Not exactly. He's um...well, he's um, he's here."

"Where?"

"Well, here. You know, here. In the room here, with me and, you know, the stereo."

"Quick, quick, try hopping."

"Not working."

"OK! OK! I know. Stand on your head! Drop your trousers. Um. Anything. Can you dance? Flirt! Make conversation! Talk about the weather! Um...um why? Why is he with you?"

"Well, it seems that he really, really doesn't like Meatloaf."