CATERING FOR ALL SORTS - A DRABBLE.
He’d drawn the short straw, undercover waitress, his partner, much bigger, obviously male was the kitchen ‘washer-upper’.
He complained of sore red hands, ‘she’ complained of sore red toes and cursed her heels.
“Any leads yet?” ‘she’ whispered.
“Gotta be here somewhere,” he replied.
“It’s huge,” ‘she’ said, indicating the size of the tourist complex.
Then they saw a chef come down some stairs adjusting his clothing. Moments later another did the same, then another.
The two cops nodded at each other and rushing up the stairs made the bust.
Headlines next day read, “Too many cooks spoil the brothel!”
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