the cops the mob the broads

The parcel had been sent by priority post from Switzerland.
I didn't like the look of it.
The return address was marked: Dete, SPLlHR 110, 8010 Zurich Mulligen, Switzerland.
I know nobody in Switzerland who sends me parcels without their name on it.
I brought the parcel back to Kilcullen Post Office.
The mild mannered lady behind the counter looked up over owlish glasses.
I handed her the parcel.
"I'm not accepting this," I told her. "I've written some things about the Muslim terror armies that threaten the world and I'm not taking any chances with strange unsolicited parcels. I'd advise you guys not to take any chances with it either."
"Do you think it's dangerous?" asked the lady primly.
The mid afternoon crowd in Kilcullen post office craned to hear my reply.
"It's probably a book," I said. "But I'd just advise you to take no risks with it. If you decide to call the police, you can give them my name and phone number. I'll be happy to talk to them."
"We'll probably just send it back where it came from," said the lady.
Exit Heelers, stage left, with the U2 version of the Mission Impossible music playing.
Ah yes, folks.
The cops, the mob, the broads, the Jihadis, the Johnston Press, and now apparently the Swiss.
They're all out to get Heelers.




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Footnote: It contained language tapes bought for me as a surprise present by the Dad.