Moutarde alors!

"Hello Moutarde, you took your time arriving. Thanks all the same. Who's this with you?"

"Allo Inspector Jeep. Sorree I deed not come ze sooner. I could not find my ... comment dit-on? My troozer ... Zis wiz me iz my good friend Captain Halifax."

"OK everyone ... pay attention. This is Monsieur Moutarde, the famous world-renowned detective. He is here to pretend to assit us with this investigation and to interfere whenever he can."

"You are veree kind Inspector Jeep".

"Right then ... this is a murder enquiry. We have a body here and I need to know who was first on the scene. Do you know Sergeant?"

"Yes Inspector. First on the scene was the body of the deceased."

"What do you mean?"

"Well Sir, without the body we would not have a crime scene. So he must have been here first!"

"Zat iz correct, Inspector. I 'ave seen zis in manee detective films in ze cinema. One must always start with ze bodee before we have a crime scene!"

"I see ..."

"If I may add something else Inspector ... I notice 'ere and 'ere plentee of chalk marks on zee floor. Why iz zat?"

"Sergeant?"

"Well Sir, as soon as we arrived we had to draw with chalk around the body so we can record the position it was found to help us with our investigations!"

"I see ... but why iz zere so many ze chalk marks on ze floor?"

"Because the body was moving about and we could not get a good impression of where he was. So we had to beat him senseless so we could draw around him!"

"Sounds sensible to me Moutarde! Any more questions?"

"Non merci ... please to continue."

"Right Sergeant ... did the victim ... the body ... say anything before you beat him senseless?"

"Yes Sir. He said stop beating me you ... and then he said some very rude words which I have written down in my notebook. You may wish to read them, Sir."

"Strewth ... here Moutarde, read this. I've never seen such bad language written in a police notebook. Heard it often mind!"

"Merci Inspector ... s'il vous plait ... what does zis sentence it means?"

"Ehm ... it is something that you do to yourself which is anatomically impossible to do!"

"Je comprends!"

"Right Sergeant ... do we know how the victim ... body ... came to be on the ground?"

"Yes Sir, he was hit from behind with a sponge cake!"

"What iz zat? Zee sponge cake?"

"It's a very soft cake. An English delicacy!"

"I see ... and what iz zat red at ze back of ze head of ze man on ze floor?"

"It's strawberry jam ... jelly ... often used as a filling between two layers of sponge cake! Very delicious. Here taste some. I'm sure the man won't mind. He's been beaten senseless anyway."

"Ooooh ... my head ... you f*****g b******s ... why did you beat me up?"

"That's enough of that my man. Mind your language. We have with us here a foreign gentleman and we will have to translate your foul language to him. Besides, you are interfering with a murder enquiry!"

"Who's been murdered?"

"You of course ... that's why we've found you on the floor with a sponge cake injury on the back of the head and strawberry jam all over the place. Someone must have hit you from behind."

"You got it wrong Inspector. That's not what happened. No one hit me. I was trying to get the cake from the cupboard up there and it slipped off the plate and hit me on the head!"

"So ... you've not been murdered? You're not dead?"

"Of course not!"

"Right Sergeant ... book him for wasting police time!"