Phillip stopped at his gate and pressed the remote button. Unlike Clarkson he had his chalet fenced up when he bought it, knowing you can never be too sure about how sneaky a predator can be.
He drove in and waited for the gate to close, making sure nothing follows him in, then only did he climb out.
That cold nectar in the fridge called him, it was forty nine degrees Celsius out today and a beer would go down brilliantly. As he got to the fridge he rang up his station commander.
"Yes captain Voorhees, it's Croné"
"Ah, yes the dead vet, what's the feedback?"
"Neglect he wasn't paying attention, I'll be sending the report in an email now in the next fifteen minutes"
"Good, fok, there's been two other such incidents and I'm still waiting for those feedbacks as well" Voorhees said.
"Enjoy, I'm having a beer now" Phillip teased.
"You fucker! Thanks a lot hey!"
