Injured Party

INJURED PARTY

No, I will not plead guilty. I'm innocent. Innocent, I tell you. I
never breached anyone's peace, and I didn't assault no-one either. They
assaulted me!

I should have known something was up when she suggested I go down the
pub. Usually she makes a terrible fuss, "What about me? You never take
me anywhere!" You know the kind of thing. But that night it was all,
"Go on, you need a break." She even let me have a tenner out of the
housekeeping.

When I told my mate Darren he said, "Bet you anything she's got a
fella.". Nah, not my Trace. I mean, who'd look at her? Though come to
think, she had been smartening herself up a bit lately. And the other
week when I took her out for an Indian, she was all over me after.
Practically had to fight her off. Well, I'd had a hard day. I put it
all down to that Martine woman she's taken up with, giving her ideas.
Now there's a tart if ever I saw one. So after a few jars me and Darren
thought we'd go back to my place and see what was what.

We heard the music the minute we turned into the street. She'd got the
front curtains drawn and the music centre going full blast. We crept
into to the house (though there was no need really, they wouldn't have
heard an elephant barging in), flung open the sitting-room door - and
stood dumbstruck.

The room was full of women. Some where from round here, some I'd never
seen before. Martine was there, and she was the only one with her
clothes on. All the rest were in their undies - and I'm not talking
Marks and Spencers. When I saw my Tracey - I mean, I've seen that sort
of stuff in magazines (you know the ones I mean) but you don't expect
it in your own front room. There were glasses and bottles all over the
place, mostly empty, and on the coffee table there were these - things
- all sizes and shapes and colours. Some of them were switched on,
sitting there vibrating away. Disgusting. I stood there with my mouth
open. Darren was no bloody use, he took one look and scarpered, the
bastard. Then all hell broke loose. They all started yelling and
squawking. Sounded like a lot of cats in a sack.

Now I want to get a few things straight. I may have said what I
shouldn't, in the heat of the moment, but I never grabbed Wendy
Wrigley's tits. All I did was put my hand out to steady myself and they
just happened to be in the way. I absolutely definitely did not tell
her to get them out before they fell out.

And I did not drop my trousers. They were forcibly removed. I mean,
what could I do? There was only one of me and more than a dozen of
them. It was a nightmare. There I was pinned down on the sofa by a load
of half-naked women. And then my Trace grabbed the biggest of the
things on the coffee table, switched it on and started telling me where
she was going to shove it.

At this point the police arrived. I never thought the day would come
when I'd be glad to see a blue light coming for me, but when that
constable marched through the door I'm not kidding, I could have kissed
him.

You have to agree, I was the injured party. So why did he arrest
me?