The proof is in the pudding

The proof is in the pudding

Bradley David­son stood with his back against the wall wield­ing a black pud­ding in the shape of a trun­cheon in his raised hand. “You bas­tards,” he shouted. “You’ll not fuck­ing put me back.”

Pros­e­cu­tor Richard­son kept silent. He could see the guy had backed him­self into a cor­ner with nowhere to go.

Mr Bradley,” the judge said, “put down the weapon.”

Richard­son, begin­ning to look over at the judge turned to face David­son. The dumb fuck. He could see David­son was going to throw the black pud­ding across the court­room. Then what? Richard­son guessed he hadn’t fig­ured that part out.

By Vin­cent Holland

Inspired by the case of Bradley David­son — http://​news​.stv​.tv

Bradley Davidson stood with his back against the wall wielding a black pudding in the shape of a truncheon in his raised hand. “You bastards,” he shouted. “You’ll not fucking put me back.”

Prosecutor Richardson kept silent. He could see the guy had backed himself into a corner with nowhere to go.

“Mr Bradley,” the judge said, “put down the weapon.”

Richardson, beginning to look over at the judge turned to face Davidson. The dumb fuck. He could see Davidson was going to throw the black pudding across the courtroom. Then what? Richardson guessed he hadn’t figured that part out.

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of Bradley Davidson – http://news.stv.tv