Cheese Theives

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Headline on the Wales online site Police want to trace men after £35 worth of cheese stolen. 
Seemed like the perfect excuse to write a story. 

Aziz cursed his son again. Ever since Moin had thrown that old walking stick away the bad old days had returned. The stream of customers that had frequented the shop over the last couple of years had slowed to a dribble and it seemed like every other person who came through that door was wearing a balaclava and sporting a baseball bat. Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration but you’d think having no customers would deter the thieves; it wasn’t as if the tills were overflowing with cash. The last armed robber had scarpered with twelve pounds fifty-seven pence. Aziz hardly thought it worth calling the police.

The door tinkled and Aziz looked up and pressed the panic button in one movement. Two men, one large, one skinny, hoods up, scarves around their faces came through the door. Slim had a kitchen carving knife. Fatboy was carrying a cricket bat; that made a change, Aziz approved, he hated that baseball was becoming so ubiquitous. Aziz pressed the no sale button on his till and stood aside as it opened.

“Where’s your cheese?” Fatboy said.

“What?” Aziz replied.

“You deaf? Cheese! Where do you keep your cheese?” He held the bat up ready to strike.

“Tell us where the cheese is or I’ll cut your throat!” the smaller man screamed.

Aziz was baffled; no one had ever threatened him for cheese before.

 “In the cold counter at the back,” he said. The two men ignored the till and headed in the direction Aziz had pointed.

“What the fuck is this?” Fatboy screamed, “Roquefort? Edam, We don’t want foreign muck. Where the fuck is the cheddar.”

“Um, I might have some out the back.” Aziz said.

Slim came back to the counter and grabbed Aziz by the arm. Let’s go and have a look shall we?” he said.

Aziz heard Fatboy whistling behind him as Slim led him away.

“Delivered today,” Aziz pointed to stack of cheese.

“Fantastic!” Slim started fill his bag. Aziz wondered what the world was coming to.

“You’re putting too much in that,” Aziz said, he could see the bag bursting at the seams.

“Shut the fuck up,” Slim was struggling to zip up the bag and didn’t need advice from Aziz.

“Bingo,” he said. Fatbot smiled and fist pumped.

There were sirens in the air.

“Let’s go,” said Fatboy. The two men left the shop just as the police car came around the corner. They’d planned to walk away from the shop nonchalantly but now they just legged it. The bag Fatboy was carrying gave way scattering cheese all over the pavement. Slim stopped but seeing the police in hot pursuit decided against picking up the cheese. Aziz wwent out side and started to gather the cheese together and watched the police return empty handed. The cheese bandits had got away.