Out him Bobby, out this brigand, this non-purveyor of piscatorial consumables, blow the whistle, grass him up, name names. Then we, as one, can tell him,"NO. we no longer want to buy our Arbroath Smokies from you. Clear off. We will find another establishment, one whose proprietor is a man of honesty, has principles, has a sense of what is right and wrong, has Cornish clams"
Also, when you get banged up in the pokey, tip us the wink, we'll send you a cake with a bag of scratchings and a big jar of Vaseline baked into it.