Hello. Where's my Pizza?

Was strolling along Brixton Road earlier today, taking my daily constitution, as well as my fair share our Capital's prized polluted air, when I espied Lily Law on the case of a young pizza delivery guy.  Three Old Bill, yes Babylon in triplicate, towering over a petrified looking little guy. 

I'm guessing that one of these burly PCs had a misfortunate experience when his order from Pizza Hut turned out to be a 9-inch Margherita instead of his fancied 14-inch Cajun Chicken Sizzler with stuffed crust. Today he spots a youngster delivering pizzas on a moped, and thinks: "GOTCHA!"

Anyway, the police ended up nicking the lad. This left the moped abandoned on the busy Brixton Road as kids were coming home from school. No doubt some little Herbert will spot the moped later. He’ll half-inch it and whizz around the street on which I live à la a born to be wild easy rider.

And, just as predicted, there he goes, an horrible little git. He’ll carry on until he runs out of fuel or the police happen along and pull him. Rather than the police making sure the moped was safely taken away, they instead help to create more problems.

So, if you were expecting a pizza at around 4 pm in the SW9 area, it’s probably being snaffled by three rozzers in the Brixton Station canteen.