Gayle dunnit

Ricky Ponting gathered his Australian team around him. His mood was grave.

"Aw look you blokes…" began the captain.

"Can I read one of my poems, Ricky?" interrupted Michael Hussey. "I've got a new one about being awesomely competitive and having really great intensity."

"No mate," said Ponting. "No more poetry. I let you read that one at the Cardiff Test and look how that turned out. Now, a very serious thing has happened: poor Doug Bollinger's had his wig stolen."

There was a gasp of horror from the assembled group.

"It's true," sobbed Bollinger. "I took it off to practice my glaring in the mirror with Sidds and when I turned round someone had been off with it."

"Mate, the thought of a bloke losing his Wiggy Green is just too bloody ordinary for words," sympathised Ponting.

"Should we sing the 'Southern Cross' a bit in a mournful yet defiant way, skip?" asked Simon Katich.

"That won't be necessary, Katich, on this occasion," said Ponting. "For we have video evidence of the culprit. Pup, dim the lights if you please."

Michael Clarke scampered over to the light switch and, pausing only to study his own reflection in a nearby mirror and mouth "Highly Marketable Tiger" at himself, turned off the lights. Ponting started the projector.

A grainy image of Chris Gayle, asleep in a chair, filled the screen.

"It's quite plain from this video evidence that Chris Gayle took the wig," proclaimed Ponting.

"Erm, skipper," said Katich. "It's not. It doesn't prove anything. Maybe we should save the videos for things that might go our way?"

"Bloody rubbish," said Ponting. "This clearly proves that Chris took Bolly's wig, and it also shows that the moon landings were fake. And in the background there, you can see the second shooter up on the grassy knoll."

"It's an open-and-shut case, skipper," said Katich. "I'll get Chris Gayle."

Gayle, wearing pyjamas, idled into the room.

"This video shows you sitting in a chair," said Katich.

"I'll challenge it," said Gayle. "I bet it doesn't."

"But Chris," said Katich. "What if one of your team-mates was accused of a terrible crime - such as wig-rustling for instance - but you'd already used up all your challenges and they were put in trouble?"

"Like the boy who cried wolf," said Hussey. "I wrote a poem about that."

"Chris don't mind," said Gayle. "Who cares about those chumps anyway?"