A rainy night in the village; a weary copper, one PC Bernie Cribbins (no relation) stumbles across something truly macabre in a Sainsbury's shopping bag left hanging from the bent-cane handle of a large old gamp driven into the green. The nearest Sainsbury's is over 40 miles away; he knows this because some of the weekenders do their shopping there en route to their holiday homes, causing comment amongst the villagers regarding the health of the local economy, in particular that of the village shop which could do with the custom - the village pub likewise, which is down on mead sales since the mysterious disappearance of one of its most valued customers.

Anyway, despite the traumas of very recent decapitation, the young lady looks rather tranquil, something of a smile playing about her crimson lips, parted to reveal a set of near perfect teeth. The tiara is not paste; the perfume is Chanel No 5; the make-up stunning; the long lustrous golden hair matted with blood. Also in the bag, an unopened tin of Sainsbury's Dandelion and Burdock, a Show of Hands CD, a box of chalks, and a DVD of the Will Hay film Old Bones of the River (1938). Waiting for the SOCOs to arrive, PC Cribbins chuckles to recall a joke in which a naked young woman is found tied to a railway track by a chap who unfastens her bonds, takes her home, cleans her up, providing a nice hot Radox bath, clean sheets and other such comforts in prelude to a night of passionate love-making. The punchline is not a pleasant one, but it is funny, and fitting, oh dear yes; there will be laughter tonight and no mistake.