Old dudes playing soccer

Deep in the bowels of the Pakuranga police station there is a dark and cold concrete room with no windows and brown stains on the floor.

The captured opponent grimaced defiantly, his fashionable clothes and voluminous hair exuded an air of disrespect. He obviously was not from round here. Probably one of those decadent hippy leftist suburbs where people run around naked smoking illegal drugs all day. He needed some incentive before he told us what we needed to know.

The opponent was strapped to the ironing board, and we attached the electrodes to his testicles. We didn’t even have to turn the power on before he spilled the beans. Then we turned it on anyway. In between his pathetic blubbering we learned that a notorious group of radicals were gathering in a Grey Lynn field on Saturday afternoon. An area well known for dissidents, anarchists, ethnic food and handsome football players.

Commander Ploddington's temperature rose as he read the intel. The group known as 'Go Feet' has three schoolteachers in their number. One of them is apparently the leader. We can't have these subversives corrupting our youth with their communist ideals. Something must be done! Will anyone think of the children? The regulations were checked. Article 17/B of the guide to effective policing states: "Two or more schoolteachers in one place at the same time outside school hours constitutes a threat to national security. Use of excessive force Is authorized."

Commander Ploddington twirled his moustache and contemplated his options. Send in a SWAT team? The armed defenders? The Pakuranga Sea Scouts? No this was a job for the mighty Legends.

The exact threat this 'Go Feet' group represented was not specified but the Legends don't let details like that get in the way of good police work. The future of our great country must be protected. Values must be upheld. Children's lives are at stake.

Pakuranga's finest arrived at the specified time and place. Cox's Bay. Even the name of this place was corrupt and subversive. The Legends waited for their opponents who were typically lacking in punctuality. Their tardiness would be punished. They would be used as an example to other insubordinates. The Legends eventually identified the admittedly good-looking group by the vague stench of sophisticated arrogance that filled the air. The miscreants were brazenly laughing and seemed to be enjoying themselves with a round leather object later identified as a 'football'. The Legends circled the group, identified the ringleaders, and quickly battened their kneecaps before they had a chance to protest. The Go Feet group were reduced to a pathetic rabble, running around with aimless impotence. They cried foul and appealed to a higher authority but there is no higher authority than the Pakuranga Legends. They tried to use their speed and tricky footwork to mesmerize the Legends, but we maintained our focus wore them down. They quickly crumbled in the face of superior strength and discipline. Soon their broken bodies were strewn all over the thick grass of Cox's Bay. Their fashionable haircuts ruined, their handsome faces bruised and bloodied, they tried to fight on, but they could not come close to challenging the well-drilled force of Legends.

Order was restored, the children were safe, and the job was done. The mighty Legends re-grouped at the Pakuranga Subway Sandwich for a debrief.

After a pleasant Sunday afternoon waterboarding another captured opponent, it was learned that the Go Feet group were not vanquished and had in fact grown stronger! The informant blubbered about a planned Go Feet incursion into Pakuranga territory in a month's time. Commander Ploddington smiled sadistically. Another job for the Legends. Excellent.