Well now, surprise surprise, technology prevents coppers from, er, 'coppering'.
What were they thinking? If you're going to arm the police with anything you should surely make it potentially lethal? You'd never have all this bother with a simple truncheon, some tear gas and a set of knuckle dusters.
"Hello 'ello, 'ello, what's all this 'ere then? I'm going to ask you all to calm down or else I'll be forced to use my Blackberry to DM the sergeant... Hang on a minute... How do you spell 'affray'...a-f-f-a-i-r... a-f-a-r-c-e...? Damned auto-correct..."
The crowd disperses, realising that - as Plod engages in the unequal combat between sausage-fingers and tiny keys - there is truly nothing to see here. Belatedly, PC PC attempts one last linguistic sally before stuffing the out-of-signal phone into an expensive leather pouch: "Well, let that be a lesson to you..."
Exit, stage left, whistling the theme from 'The Bill'.
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