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>bobby knocks on door
>"oi! open up you cheeky bastard and show me your sleeping licence!"
>fumble around and finally find my licence
>"s-sorry good sir. It's right here... God save the Queen"
>bobby peers in and catches a glimpse of me telly
>"halt! where's your TV licence you ♥♥♥♥?"
>draw TV licence from me wallet
>bobby gives a look like the bloody Queen's dodger
>"oi mate! where's your permit for this licence?"
>show him my licence permit
>"this licence permit is expired. I'm taking you in!"
>bobby draws his toy gun
>stab him with my unregistered butterknife