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A SEX SHOP TALE OF OUR TIMES I was browsing in a sex shop this morning, like you do, when who should walk in but a vicar. It was a case of deja vu of a sort because years ago when I used to write for 'Not The Nine-o-Clock News' I wrote a sketch that was set in a sex shop that featured a vicar as one of the clients. However that was in the way of light entertainment, and the vicar was played by Rowan Atkinson, but here it was in real life with a real vicar. What on earth did a man of the cloth want in a sex shop I asked myself? See-through surpluses? Crotchless cassocks?      He went straight up to the counter to where the shop owner awaited his pleasure. I sidled a little closer in order that I might eavesdrop on the transcaction.     "A large ....er....dildo I think they're called, please," pronounced the vicar, then he looked round the shop while the shop owner attended to his request. He saw me looking at him and smiled. "Mislaid my truncheon."     "Oh?"     "I live alone," he explained, "and I've always kept a police truncheon on my bedside table at night to fend off any potential intruder. But it went missing when I had the decorators in, two lovely girls, and I haven't seen it since."     Bells rang. "Did they have cropped hair?" I said. "The two lovely girls?"     He looked surprised. "How did you know that?"     "Just a guess," I said, not wishing to corrupt his innocence.     "Only I've been unable to obtain a replacement," he went on. "I asked at the local police station but they said they didn't use truncheons anymore, they used a night stick, and even if they did they couldn't let a member of the public have one.     "Miserable sods," I said.     "Quite. Anyway I happened to mention it to my verger and he mentioned it to a friend and the friend suggested a dildo might do the job as adequately as a truncheon, so here I am."     I thought to mention that a dildo might be construed as a night stick in a sort of way but I suspected it might be wasted on him, so I just nodded my head.     "And why are you here?" he said.     "Store detective," I said. As it happened I was looking for something that might invigorate mine and The Troubles sex life but I wasn't about to admit it, especially not to a vicar.     "Ten pounds," said the sex shop owner, not specifying if he was referring to the price or the weight of the biggest dildo I have ever seen as he plonked it on the counter.     The vicar's eyes lit up. "That should be ideal," he said, picking it up and bringing it down on the head of an imaginary intruder. "Most impressive. What is it's real purpose, by the way?"     "Ornamental rubber beer pump," I said, quicker than you could say Jack Robinson or the shop owner could say artificial cock.     This seemed to satisfy him and he paid and was on his way out when a thought struck me. "Vicar?"     He turned at the door. "Yes?"     "Those decorators you mentioned. From what you've told me it's a pretty good bet that they lifted your truncheon. And an even better bet that if you offered them that dildo in exchange for it they'd be only too pleased to give it back."     "Do you really think so? he said.     "I really know so," I said.     "I'll give it a try then," he said, and went happily on his way.