I remember it being used in Carmarthenshire.
someone had a bit of a ‘funny turn’, sat under Llansawel bridge and tried to shoot anyone who walked or drove over it, Crippling funny considering their was a parapet nearly 3′ high, so absolutely no chance of him hitting anyone, anyway we were all the worse for drink and kept popping out over the parapet to call him troll etc.
Some bright spark rings the fuzz and tell them there is a gun battle going on. *(Suitable poetic license)
There is only one armed response team for the whole of Dyfed/Powys and they were way up the other in in old Merioneth area. How they got there in 45 minutes is still discussed to this day!
They must have been doing 120 most of the way.
The poor lad never lived it down, he is called troll to this day, funny he never did time for it, there were no witnesses, but then there never are!!!!!
You can hear the bastards coming way down the valley and one then develops a pressing need to visit the Forestry Commission’s somewhat large plantations on a somewhat circuitous way home.
One of the village’s more cherished memories. That was in the mid eighties.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Proportionate response?
I must remember for future use, thanks Bravo.
I remember it being used in Carmarthenshire.
someone had a bit of a ‘funny turn’, sat under Llansawel bridge and tried to shoot anyone who walked or drove over it, Crippling funny considering their was a parapet nearly 3′ high, so absolutely no chance of him hitting anyone, anyway we were all the worse for drink and kept popping out over the parapet to call him troll etc.
Some bright spark rings the fuzz and tell them there is a gun battle going on. *(Suitable poetic license)
There is only one armed response team for the whole of Dyfed/Powys and they were way up the other in in old Merioneth area. How they got there in 45 minutes is still discussed to this day!
They must have been doing 120 most of the way.
The poor lad never lived it down, he is called troll to this day, funny he never did time for it, there were no witnesses, but then there never are!!!!!
You can hear the bastards coming way down the valley and one then develops a pressing need to visit the Forestry Commission’s somewhat large plantations on a somewhat circuitous way home.
One of the village’s more cherished memories. That was in the mid eighties.