Evenin' all. For those of you wot 'ave been wonderin' where we 'ave been for the last eighteen months, and who 'ave perhaps been thinkin' that we were on some sort of long 'oliday, paid for at the taxpayers' expense, I can now hexclusively reveal that nothin' could be further from the truth. Since early March 2012 we 'ave been hengaged in a long and patient 'unt for one of the most 'einous, dangerous criminals ever to set foot in the recording studio. It 'as not been easy and many good men 'ave tried and failed, but the Law is a tireless pursuer, as many of our hadversaries have come to realise, and like blood'ounds we kept up the chase, followed our leads and spoke to many hinformants over the course of the last year, (for which I would like to thank the generous outpouring of hassistance from the public) and finally, in the early hours of a cold Friday last May, actin' on a tip-off from a member of the public we ran 'im to ground.
Our trail 'ad finally borne fruit and we surrounded a disused ware'ouse from which the truly terrible strains of his teenybop music could be 'eard waftin' across the 'arbour and chokin' the cold crisp night air. Bird did not sing, the very wind did not blow and it seemed to us as we closed in on 'im that even the stars themselves hid from this awful cacophony. My colleagues and I --- twelve in all --- were relatively safe though. We 'ad earlier been happroached by a fine hupstanding member of the public who 'as 'elped us out before, known only to us as the Batlord, and 'e 'ad agreed that this one would be tough. "A poseur is just a poseur", spake he wisely, "but a poseur of this magnitude, with his back to the wall: you just don't know what he might do." And so we took, with the Batlord's 'elp, certain precautions.
Supplied each with an hipod crammed full of the most brutal, savage and loud death metal we hadvanced, and it seemed to work. On sight of us, Bieber turned towards the soundbooth, jammin' on 'is pink fluffy 'eadphones and turnin' the volume on the studio's PA system up full. We reeled at the 'orrible noise, the awful generic tones, the soft syllables, the crooning voice, the sugar-sweet harmonies -- ooh, it were awful! I tell you, I've been subjected to many 'orrible things in my thirty years on the Force, but this whinin' noise very nearly broke me! Luckily we 'ad the deadening sounds o' 'eavy metal to fall back upon so we were protected from the worst of it.
Oh, an' 'ere I must fulfil a promise I made to the Batlord, in return for 'is 'elp: Excuse me.
'EAVY METAL RULES! GLORY TO THE BRAVE! TRUE METAL WILL NEVER DIE! DEATH TO POSEURS! MORBID ANGEL FOOKING ROOOOOLLLLLLLL!!!!!!
Sorry about that: obviously we here at the Met do not wish death to any poseurs. If they wants to listen to crap music, that is their privilege. But as I said, that was the deal we struck with 'is Batship. And now, let me return to the story.
We moved in for the kill. 'e seemed amazed that 'is singin' was 'avin' little or no heffect on us, though truth be told me own ears was bleedin'. Whether that were from 'im or the 'eavy metal I'm not sure, but I know they were ringin'. We cut off 'is escape but to our surprise 'e began to scale the walls o' the studio via various 'and'olds --- like a bleedin' monkey 'e were, pardon my French, and as we tried our best to shut out the sickly strains of digital piano and autotune comin' from the studio at full belt 'e shook 'is fist in defiance at us an' screamed in an 'igh-pitched voice "Ye'll never take me alive coppers, eh?"
Then Sergeant Quaver 'ad a brainwave. 'e rushed into the now-empty studio, fearlessly bravin' the 'orrible pop music wot rushed at 'im like a tidal wave. I saw 'im stop for a moment as if pushed back, but an instant later 'e gathered 'is resolve an' fought 'is way through until 'e was at the mixin' desk, where he used 'is trusty truncheon to smash the machinery, thus silencin' the backin' track forever. We all breathed a sigh o' relief, while Bieber raged and screamed like a much smaller, skinner version of that there King Kong in the old movie, beatin' wot 'e laughingly calls 'is chest and squealin' like a stuck pig at the destruction o' his music. But Quaver was not finished. 'e ripped off the hipod from his neck, located the audio jack from the studio's PA and jammed it into the line-in on his player. A second later the thunderous strains o' High on Fire I believe it was, crashed across the studio like an hasteroid hittin' the earth. Windows blew out immediately, spraying the harea like confetti. The walls shook. Machinery exploded in a tangle of metal. The ground rumbled and began to split beneath our feet as 'eavy metal really did rock the 'ouse!
Already 'avin' been haccustomed to such levels of decibelery, we were relatively safe but Bieber, who had never heard anythin' louder than the screams o' his girly fans onstage fairly shook with the noise. He stood, stock-still for a moment, then clapped 'is 'ands to 'is ears, but it were already too late. Small cracks began to appear all over 'is face, an' continued on down 'is body. In a moment they 'ad widened an' spread so that in less than a minute 'is 'ole body were covered in tiny lines which were gettin' bigger as we watched in 'orror. Then, with a roar and a scream such as I wish never to 'ave to 'ear again in my life 'is entire body split right down the middle, but rather than blood an' brains an' the usual stuff you hexpect to see come out from a body, thick green goo began to leak out, running down the sides of the shattered body an' collectin' on the floor at our feet. As we watched in amazement this growing pile suddenly coalesced, gathered together an' rose up, shakin' a green fist at us! An 'orrible, alien voice croaked
"You fools! You think there is only one Justin Bieber? My people and I have travelled across four galaxies to make this planet ours! You think we will let the likes of you stand in our way? You can kill me, but know this: for every stupid teenage girl who buys the latest boyband records there is one of my kind, and you will never be able to defeat us all! Never!" Some'ow, it seemed to lean in closer as it whispered in a voice like a thousand venomous snakes
"I will let you into a little secret, humans. Do you know what Justin Bieber's next album is to be?" It paused for a moment, as if to savour the next words.
"Justin Bieber pays tribute to ... Justin Bieber! AH HA HA HA HAH HAHHH!"
Its laughter were truly terrible, though the news just as bad. Could such a thing really 'appen? Would the idiotic fanbase fall for it? Would they buy it? Like a snake eatin' its own tail, was this 'einous felon about to create the worst possible album in the 'istory of 'umanity?
Perhaps there were more of this creature, many more, but I were determined this one would not leave this studio alive. I gave a curt, meaningful nod to Quaver and he spun the selector wheel on the hipod. As the warehouse shook even 'arder, and the walls began to collapse, he ran for 'is life as the strains of Morbid Angel punched across the air and it seemed indeed to be burnin'. With a final, despairin' wail, a scream of pure 'atred an' anger, the thing wot 'ad been Justin Bieber shook like jelly and we all ran for the exits. We were barely clear of them, flingin' ourselves to the ground when it hexploded, and the whole thing went up like a green mushroom cloud.
When we finally raised our 'eads there was nothin' left but a 'uge smokin' crater where the disgustin' thing's evil studio 'ad been. We are now faced with the prospect that this is only the tip o' the iceberg, and the 'unt may only 'ave begun. O' course, the huge slimy green monster may 'ave been lyin', an' maybe 'e was all there was. An' yet, there was somethin' of the ring of truth in its words. I know it'll be a while before I sleep soundly, anyway. But I would ask you all now to be extra-vigilant. If you see anyone resemblin' or soundin' even like the late Justin Bieber, do NOT happroach the creature! We 'ave already hascertained that 'e is dangerous an' unpredictable. Contact us on 1800-USQUEAL or 1800-SCAM, or else let your local law henforcement hoffice know an' they will get in touch with us.
You may rest easy, citizens, for no matter 'ow many Justin Biebers there are in this world, they can't havoid justice forever, and one way or anhother we will get them. One by one, we will scour this menace from our green and pleasant land till the streets are safe to walk for law habidin' citizens like yourselves.
Remember: vigilance is the watchword. Together we're stronger, and together we will prevail.
Night all.