Show Us the Money

The Sheriffs’ department came and took the tool thief away. As it turns out this guy was wanted for stealing over a half a million dollars worth of construction equipment in 4 counties. The police had been trying to catch him for two years.

There was a front page newspaper article about Wong and I. It said that “A couple of half wit, would be cops manage to collar a big time bandit.” Now that’s press you can’t pay for. The only problem I have with the article is the crappy pictures. There was one of Wong in the worst possible pose. They had just finished the interview for the paper and he was showing one of the deputies a “Mountain Gorilla” pose which is very famous and popular in his homeland.

I sent a letter to the editor asking what the hell he meant by publishing that piece of shit picture of my deputy in his “toilet” paper of a news paper. The rude editor said that while it’s newsworthy that a pair of “inept failure to launch-type, jackasses captured a master thief, it is also of public interest when a deputy of the law squats down and makes himself look like a ridiculous chimpanzee of some damn sort.” I immediately took offense to this complete mischaracterization of my deputy, promising the editor a swift investigation into his “panzy-assed paper.”

The next day I went to the Shipley’s donut shop and saw the paper with a huge front page headline: SELF PROCLAIMED POLICE CHIEF OF A PATHETIC SUPPOSED LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY THREATENS EDITOR. My blood began to boil, I grabbed a copy of that crap and and opened it up. On the second page was a huge picture, full page size, of this:

Under this picture was the caption- The Chief

That editor went too far! His ass is grass and I’m a lawn mower. One way or another I am going to pay that jerk back.

On the good side all this coverage (albeit rude) ended up helping us out. After getting home from the donut shop Mom handed me a note. She said someone called looking for me and said it was urgent. When I called the number on the paper, a very formal sounding man came on saying his name was Karl Remaldi, president of the second largest chain of banks in the United States.

I asked how Could I help him? Remaldi said he had seen how we captured the master thief, and wanted to talk to me about providing security for his banks! I was awestruck, and almost passed out.

An hour later I was on my way to an interview in Mr. Remaldi’s private jet!

I began to feel as if The Agency had just hit the big time!!!

Pay Dirt!!!

Well, the Sheriffs Department helicopter airlifted Wong to the trauma center. He was in a state the doctors would later call “Battle Induced Shock” which is something that happens to soldiers and police officers after experiencing heavy action. We may not have been in a large fire fight or under heavy artillery fire, but we did face down that menacing deer and with my whistle sounding off and flashlight blasts it was pretty serious.

All this action along with the “Unholy ass whooping”, according to the E.R. doctor that Wong took was just too much for him. I did everything I could, stayed by his bedside and even brought him the fried lettuce and green traditional Asian tea he likes. One afternoon I brought the tea and found poor Wong in his hospital restroom.

Eventually he started to come around. The biggest improvement came while we were watching the TV and breaking news came on to announce that a couple hunters had shot a large male deer who had the elastic waistband from a pair of women’s panties dangling from his antlers. The reporter also said that the deer had what looked to be human feces smeared all over his antlers.

As it turns out, the crazed and violent creature tried to pull that same head down, splits inducing, crotch splitting move he did to me on my partner. Too bad for the deer Foot Long Wong wasn’t having it. He threw his martial arts trained body into the proven crane technique from Karate Kid.

Wong would have knocked that deers block off had everything gone his way. Unfortunately, absolutely nothing went Wong’s way and rather than getting thrown into a painful splits position, he got an even more painful and more violent outcome. The deers antler missed its mark and found his anus. Tragically, Wong was violated by the crazed animal. I announced to the sheriffs deputies that came to take Wong’s statement that I would be filing Rape charges against the animal.

The day after Wong got home, he showed up for work! Dressed in his official uniform and riding his scooter Wong rode up like the Ghost Rider on his flaming bike. Ok, maybe not quite like the Ghost Rider, but he looked cool. I looked at his feet and he was wearing the boots that hurt his feet. Reaching into my Squad car I pulled out a pair of women’s slippers I had picked up at the Dollar General and threw them to Wong. In that moment we became a true team, a real dynamic duo. There was only one last thing to do, we had to face our fears that the deer put into us.

We got Wong a deer tattoo that symbolizes his mastery over the deer. He came out of the tattoo parlor a new man, ready to face the next hurdle. We rolled out to the pipeline site in squad 1 with Kenny Loggins “Danger Zone” playing as loud as it would go. Even though it was dark, I wore my mirrored sun glasses being all fired up at the music.

Just as we were pulling into the pipeline we noticed a man walking around the tool shed. I threw squad 1 into a spinning skid hoping to show this thief what kind of cops he was dealing with. My speed was too high and I ended up hitting the front end of a bulldozer and ripped the rear bumper of my vehicle off. “Dammit” I yelled, “that gonna cost 50 buck.”

Wong jumped out and started running towards the burglar. I hit the throttle and went to cut the guy off. In his hands the man carried a tripod that I had seen the construction crew use in surveying the site. He ran through a huge segment of pipe and I drove right in after him. The dang pipe looked plenty large for squad 1 to fit through. It was not large enough.

Sparks and a horrible shrieking sound came from both of my doors as they rubbed against the inside of the pipe. My mirrors flew off and the door handles melted from the friction. I screamed, “Let’s do this thing…” I mashed the throttle all the way to the floor and pushed squad 1 through that steel pile like a turd through a colon. The thief was covering his ears due to the metal on metal sound coming from my car. He turned around to see if I was stuck in the pipe and from out of nowhere Wong came flying like a Japanese Superman. Wong tackled the guy and as soon as I plopped out the end of the pipe, I jumped out to assist, reaching for my whistle.

We didn’t have any handcuffs so we used the thieves own shoe strings. I got on the phone and called 9-11. As soon as the dispatcher came on I yelled, “Get your asses over here now dammit…now, I’ve got a suspect at whistle point!”

Officer Down

Up ahead I heard poor Wong let out what can only be described as the high pitched scream of an eight year old Korean school girl. I tried to run by my groins hurt like hell from being forced into an unwilling splits position by that damn felony committing deer. Again, the suspect:

I saw something very alarming on the ground in front of me. For the first time in this whole sad affair I began to worry that we might have lost Wong.

This was getting bad. I never expected to find Wong’s pants like this. Something very ugly must have happened to my little buddy, all kinds of images began running through my mind. If I catch that furry bastard he just might end up becoming sausage.

I wasn’t quite sure what the hell I was actually looking at. I looked closer at the article on the ground and then the reality of it all hit me in the face. These were Wong’s underwear. I took off running…then ran back to take a second look at the very questionable underwear. They sure didn’t look like anything any man would wear. Standing and criticizing my deputies underwear choice was not my biggest concern at the moment, his life was.

Just up ahead on the small dirt path my eyes found Kim “Foot Long” Wong. He was mumbling all kinds of things.

“Wong, hey man, are you ok?” I asked. He didn’t look at me or acknowledge me at all. “The Deer made me naked.,” he mumbled, followed by “Call the rape crisis center…I’m glad the other reindeer made fun of Rudolph.” I took my windbreaker off and put it around him. Wong twitched as the black windbreaker with a gold eagle and cowboy pistol printed on it touched his stark naked body. Just so you know, the words The Agency are emblazoned on the jacket back and POLICE on the front.

Something snapped off in the distance. Wong yelled something that sounded like “Wackyyyy-Wooo-Ma-Chacky”. I tried to ask what that meant but he immediately snapped into a fetal position and started crying uncontrollably. I pulled out my i phone with a “tactical” black otter box and dialed 9-11.

A female dispatcher answered, “9-11, what is your emergency?” I lost control and yelled into the phone, “Officer down, OFFICER DOWN Dammit.”

Run for Your Life!

In a moment of sheer confusion an angry male deer lunged at us. The deer had anger in his eyes and crime on his fury brown mind, but he chose the wrong cops to mess with. I yelled “freeze!” but the out of control horned animal was having none of it.

The deer stood up on his hind legs and began punching poor Wong. For a few seconds I was in shock, that deer was fighting like a young Mike Tyson, pummeling the hell out of Wong like a he was a punching bag. The deer threw an uppercut that staggered Wong. I yelled, “Use your Kung-Fu,” but Wong did nothing except try his damnedest to cover his face and head. I snapped out of my shock after Wong let out a particularly loud scream.

Going full tactical I pulled out my flashlight and whistle. Now I had never had to get this extreme with any suspect before. For some reason, the adrenaline and nostalgia got the better of me, “Power rangers unite!” I screamed. Wong looked at me confused and the deer simply turned his head to look at me as he continued to beat the hell out of Foot Long. I gave the fury criminal a blast of light to his big-ass eyes and a shrill dose of pain to his perky ears. It was a mistake.

The now enraged creature gave Wong one last backhand style slap to his face then turned towards me. I tried to get into a Green Beret fighting position, but the deer had a different style of fighting on his mind. He swooped his head down with those huge antlers and in a powerful thrusting movement threw his massive head upwards. Somehow he had scooped my ankles inside of his antlers that were about 6 feet across and up I went.

I heard the crotch of my new uniform pants rip apart like cheap rice paper. Both of my groin muscles were sprained and feared that my butt cheeks could spread no further. “AHhhh,” I yelled, “Dammit Wong, do something!” But poor Wong was bruised and battered and seemingly confused. He looked over at me in a splits position, 5 feet off the ground with my feet about 6 feet apart, my pants so torn apart that my underwear had become a thong. It was too much for Wong, he began crying and speaking in his native tongue. The deer lowered his head and then in sheer meanness threw his head upwards again causing the thong effect to be all the damn worse.

Wong once again joined the fight, like when they finally got Maverick to engage in the end of Top Gun. He threw a pine cone like a big league pitcher that connected with the deers face. “Yea, take that,” I yelled. The deer threw me off to the side like a rag doll. He then made a mewling sound and turned towards Wong. At this point, Wong ran like hell, he took off so fast that even the enraged animal was startled.

I tried to get up and chase after them but with both groin muscles pulled I could only hobble. Up ahead I heard Wong screaming and the deer mewling and barking. I knew that whatever was going on, Foot Long Wong was getting the worst of it. “Hold on’ I yelled, ‘I’m on my way little buddy.” My heart sank when came across one of Wong’s native asian sandals just laying on the ground. I noticed to leather toe strap was completely torn off. Oh my God… that was all I could think. About 50 yards up ahead I found my partner, and it was nothing any amount of training can prepare a cop for. This memory will never be erased from my mind.

Staking Out Sasquatch

The Agency now had its first “deputy” in Kim “Foot Long” Wong! I went to a local uniform store to put an order in for new uniforms that will make Wong and I look like Police/Navy SEAL’s. Our uniforms are part black BDU, high gloss cavalry boots and “Smokey Bear” hats. How do we know these uniforms look awesome? Because yesterday morning after picking them up, we met at Wong’s (mom’s) house which serves as his Big Foot hunter headquarters and put on our new uniforms!

After getting suited up we jumped in Squad 1 and drove at high speed to the Whataburger downtown. I brought Squad 1 to a screeching halt, blue smoke and dust surrounding us in the drive thru lane. As I pulled up to the window to get my #2 meal and Wong’s hot tea and lettuce I threw my hat and mirrored sunglasses on. The server jumped back in awe and respect of us, then broke out in laughter at how professional we look in our new uniforms!

I threw Squad 1 into gear and tried to peel out in front of the server, but the engine died out after belching a plume of smoke and an ear shattering backfire. The backfire was so loud it startled Wong who spilled his hot tea all over his lap. “Oh…Damn…Sonofa….Cooked my…(some foriegn language)…Dog shit,” poor Wong yelled. I waited a few minutes as the Whataburger crew and several customers came out to celebrate our uniforms with cheering, laughing and clapping.

We discussed meeting at the pipeline and setting up a stakeout on Sasquatch who Wong says is hanging around the equipment. It is Wong’s belief that the creature is trying to figure out how to operate one of the bulldozers so he can possibly make some improvements on his home somewhere in the woods. I was not liking the idea of anyone stealing from a place under The Agency’s protection, “Well, we will see about that large-ass humanoid stealing any of the Forman’s stuff,” I barked.

We had been sitting in a small hunting blind borrowed from my uncle.
Night had fallen and there was a light wind blowing through the woods. So far the stakeout had been pretty boring. I snacked on Cheetos, string cheese and pretzels. Wong refused all my snacks, explaining that he choose to eat only very clean and traditional Asian foods and remain extremely pure like Bruce Lee. As he looked disgustedly at my snacks, a large snap echoed outside the blind. We froze and listened. Another crackling of breaking twigs. Seconds latter there was a strange rubbing sound, as if someone or something was scraping a rock against a tree.

I slowly opened the door of the hunting blind and we stepped outside. Something grunted just up ahead. I noticed that Wong was wearing his sandals rather than the cavalry boots I bought him. He complained that the boots hurt his feet and didn’t feel right to him. I pushed the anger over the sandals aside, we had something stalking us in the woods, in the dark!

Wong suggested we try to approach the creature from upwind so that he could not use his superior sense of smell. We moved in a tactical, SWAT like way around the woods and were only a few feet from the huge beast. For the first time I could smell him! A fear shot through me, I was close enough to smell Big Foot. Reaching down, I pulled out my tactical whistle and flashlight. If Sasquatch made a move he was going to get a combination ear blast/eye blast.

Wong put his hands up and pulled a few branches out of the way. Everything went into slow motion at this point and as he got his first glimpse at the creature behind the branches Wong screamed. I looked past Wong and when I saw it, my jaw dropped and a bolt of fear and disbelief reverberated through my body. A second later a blur of brown fur was moving in our direction…

Foot Long Wong

My heart racing a thousand miles an hour and sweat breaking out on my head, I pushed through the last thin bush separating me and whatever creature lay in front of me. Screaming, “You’re Under Arrest!”

My brain thought what my mouth was too shocked to say, “what the…” A small Asian man was squatting in front of me holding a large plastic foot mounted on a broom handle. The man jumped up, screaming in a glass shattering way, “Officer, officer, don’t shoot me!” he said. I like this guy already, he just called me officer!

In order to get “tactical control” of the suspect I discharged a 3 second flashlight burst to his eyes. The man proved to be cooperative and was forthcoming with providing his alibi. As it turns out he is a “Professional” Big Foot Hunter. He picked up a backpack that lay at his feet and showed me some very interesting equipment: a pair of night vision goggles, an infrared camera and an authentic Japanese tea set. The last item didn’t seem to fit but neither did the shoes this guy was wearing.

I didn’t say anything but those sandals sure don’t look comfortable. He held his hand out and we shook, “My Name is Wong,’ he said ‘Kim Wong, but everyone calls me Foot Long Wong.” I told him my name was “Chief”, but my mind was now stuck on that nickname. Foot Long Wong? Have I ever seen this guy on one of Mom’s movies she has hidden in her closet?

“Yea, they call me Foot Long because…”
I leaned forward (for tactical reasons).
“because everyone knows Big Foots feet are a foot long”.

I lost a lot of respect for Wong at that moment, but he seemed like a nice guy and was very knowledgeable about Big Foot or Sasquatch as some people call him. Wong said he has been searching for the elusive creature for more than 15 years! “Wow, have you ever seen him?” I asked.
“Well, no. But I have seen drawings of him.” Being a cop I naturally wanted to know, “Who did the drawings? Did they see him?”
Wong looked around the woods for a second, “Well, no. But some people have heard the creature howling in the woods.”
I then wondered if any of those people have ever seen one, and agin the answer was no. I asked if anyone has at least ever seen a dead Big Foot? “Nope”, Wong admitted. What about any DNA evidence, hair, blood anything? “Nothing, not a shred,” Wong answered as he pulled the backpack over his shoulders. A minute of silence passed between us, then I finally asked, “So you have absolutely no proof at all. Not one shred of evidence of any kind. No body, no pictures, nothing, yet you have searched for 15 years of your life for this thing?”

Wong said the lack of evidence didn’t matter to him, that he remains 100% convinced that there is a 7-8 foot tall hairy humanoid creature roaming the countryside. Further, Wong is convinced that the creature is in this area, hanging around the pipeline project for unknown reasons.

We started walking back to the pipeline area where Squad 1 was parked. The odor of that huge poo pile wafted in the air. I had to ask, “Do all Big Foots take huge dumps like this one or is this just an especially nasty-assed Sasquatch?”

Wong said in a very scientific manner, that actually Sasquatches poo in little pellets. I must have had a very confused look on my face, “Oh no, you mean that over there,’ he said pointing in the direction of the odor, ‘that is where I had to use the restroom.”

“WHAT!, You did that?” I asked in sheer disbelief. There was no damn way this guy, 5 feet 3 inches tall, 105 pounds left a mountain of destruction like that.

“Oh yea,’ Wong said ‘my stomach hurt too bad. I got a burrito from O’Brien’s Mexican Cafe. The fact that Wong actually bought a burrito from a mexican restaurant with an Irish name explained just about everything I needed to know.

We came out of the woods and there parked just off the main access road was a small scooter like moped looking thing.

Wong explained that that was his “Hog” and that he didn’t own a car. Cars couldn’t go the same places his “Chopper” could, especially when in pursuit of Big Foot. I asked how many times he had to chase Big Foot? Well, none he answered, not a single time in 15 years.

Something about Foot Long Wong truly appealed to me. I asked him where he worked. “Radio Shack” he said. I asked Wong if he ever wanted to be a cop. Sitting on his “Hog”, he said, “never thought of it.”

“Well, I’m a police chief,” I explained, then following my gut asked, “do you want to work in my department?”

Wong revved up his scooter, it sounded like a weed eater to me. He pulled some World War Two looking goggles down over his eyes then said, “Can I still look for Big Foot?” I answered immediately, “Yes”. He smiled, “Ok, I will do it.”

We shook hands and agreed to meet at my house tomorrow afternoon so I could give wong a uniform and “swear him in.” The excitement shot through me as I realized, I just hired my first deputy! The Agency was on its way!

A Most Unusual Suspect

The tough part of police work is the late night patrol. When you’re action oriented like me, long dark nights can play games with the mind. Around 1am last night, I came across something very unusual. Now I know what my tactical training tells me (this can not be) but my eyes are saying, look it’s right there in front of you. This is what I found just behind a tool shed at the pipeline site:

To me this looks like a very large footprint. Now I know some of you “civilians” are thinking this is looking very unusual. Well, when its dark and you are the only cop for miles around and you see some big ass footprints like this, it’s scary! I pulled out my tactical flashlight and whistle and dove behind the shed. The only problem was misjudging the distance to the shed in the dark. I slammed into the tool shed in the midst of a Pete Rose-style headfirst dive.

The impact jammed my “combat whistle” down my throat, causing a violent cough to blow through the whistle in my gullet which sounded like a shrill whales cry.

Thankfully the cough caused the whistle to shoot out of my mouth. I quickly realized that whatever was out there now knew my location. I had given away my tactical position. I belly crawled through the grass into a thatch of trees. At this point I heard the first of a series of strange howling sounds. It was not a wolf or a dog but altogether different. Part of me wanted to turn back, but I’m a cop at heart so I pushed a bit further into the trees.

Within minutes I was in the woods and noticed a terribly foul smell. Using my flashlight to look around I noticed the largest pile of feces I had ever seen. The size of the pile made me think for a moment that an elephant might be responsible. But that didn’t fit the footprint.

I tried to block the foul smell out of my mind and slowly walked towards the howling sounds. Two more huge footprints pressed into the dirt for me to follow. A twig snapped just in front of me! The brush had grown thick and visibility was next to nothing. Another twig snapped only a few feet from me. It was now or never. I pushed the button of my flashlight and screamed, “you’re under arrest”!!!

What I saw standing in front of me was shocking…

You’re Hired!!!

As some of you who follow my blog know, I don’t have the best of luck lately. But I can say all that changed about an hour ago! Let me tell you how my luck went from downright terrible to great.

I spent the morning installing the new siren I bought for Squad 1. The dang directions are all in some language I don’t understand and the pictures are in black & white so colored wires meant nothing either. Turns out the language is Korean, that’s where my siren comes from. The only mistake I made was not disconnecting the battery before attempting an electrical installation and I blame this on the damn Korean instructions. This was plastered across the package:

I touched that red wire to Squad 1’s battery and that’s it, lights out. I came to and noticed that the electrical jolt had caused all my muscles to instantly contract. Little did I realize, but your bladder is essentially a muscle.

Anyways, it was nothing a change of clothes didn’t fix. The siren installation took about 6 hours to complete, but nonetheless it was ready to test! I sat in Squad 1, fired her up and then flipped the on switch for my siren. It has a strange sound, unlike the normal police sirens. This is a siren that was probably meant for Europe, so it sounds odd to you Americans. Though I too am an American, when I’m operating a European sounding siren, I consider myself European.

It didn’t take Mom long to fuss about the “loud-ass, annoying sound coming out of that beat up ole’ pile of crap.” I kindly reminded her that she was addressing a police chief in his police car and maybe she wanted to watch her mouth. She took off her shoe and threw it, hitting Squads 1 right on the hood. “Quit it Mom” I yelled in my command voice.

It was time to test it out on the road! In an attempt to show Mom a thing or too, I backed out, put on my Tom Cruise Top Gun edition mirrored sunglasses and threw Squad 1 into gear. Slamming my foot down on the throttle, and giving her a “how do you like me now” smirk I gunned it. Squad 1 revved up hard, lurched forward and let out a massive backfire with a rather large cloud of black smoke shooting out of the tail pipe.

Mom laughed uncontrollably as I tried to start the car back up. After about ten minutes of trying, it fired up and I was on my way. To test the siren I choose a remote road so that no civilians would accidentally pullover believing they were in trouble. So far so good; I would turn it on and then off, on then off. Now at one point I reached down to flip the siren on and noticed something in the corner of my eye. About the time my brain registered that a large deer with huge antlers had walked out into the road, my police reflexes kicked in. I jerked the steering wheel like hell and…

Squad 1 was approximately 7 feet off the ground flying due west on a north south road.

“Shiiiiiiiit,” I screamed as I noticed the road, the deer and a small tree pass below me. What goes up must come down, and Squad 1 landed like a brick. That old suspension did all it could, but it still felt like a hand grenade had gone off in my rectum. Again, I issued a high pitch scream, this one from the sheer pain you know where, “Oh, my AaSssssss!” Man that hurt.

Squad 1 came to rest only inches from a large bulldozer. Several men came running to the scene. “Are you ok?” one asked, “man, did you see that?” Said another. One guy in amazement at my tactical driving said, “did you guys see this pile of shit fly!” The men looked in the back seat of my car and asked where my daughter was. I told them I didn’t have a daughter, but they refused to believe me at first explaining that they heard a young girl screaming just after the car landed.

Anyways, the men are working on a natural gas pipeline going from Texas all the way to Savannah, Georgia. Within minutes an older guy came walking up that identified himself as the Foreman of the job. He asked what I was doing out here and when I told him that I was testing a new siren for my law enforcement car, his face lit up. Well, first he asked, “you mean that hunk of crap?” Pointing at squad 1. I considered a 2 second blast of light to the eyes but decided to let him have this one.

Well, the Foreman said that he had been looking for a night watchman to keep the equipment safe. We walked around the job site and he pointed out some of the tools, tractors and building materials and then said, “Just in this one spot, there is four million dollars worth of equipment.” He gave me another look up and down, then asked, “do you want the watchman job?” I felt like a man who had just won the lottery, then he told me it would pay 2,000$ a month!

Aside from the absolutely excruciating pain emanating from my rectal area, the drive home was awesome. I had a real job now, a job that paid real money! The Agency was on the Law Enforcement map and Mom and all the naysayers were gonna have to eat their words.

Mom and The Chief

This weekend was not so good for me. I went by the ATM and noticed I had a -97.00$ balance. If the ATM could laugh it would, cry it would do that too but it did neither. The damn thing just sat there digitally flashing a sign asking if it could help me. Yes you electronic bastard, how about spotting me a couple hundred bucks.

The real news this weekend is the big argument that Mom and I got into over this whole Agency thing as she calls it. “You’re wasting your life with this Poe-leece crap son, can you not find a real job?” First of all, The Agency is as real as it gets. And second, I expect to be called “Chief”. I informed Mom that she, like everyone else would be expected to call me “Chief” and that I couldn’t show her any favoritism. She stopped for a second or two and then this:

That display got mom a 2.5 second flashlight in the eye attitude adjustment. She told me if I kept putting that damn light in her eyes she was going to slap the stupid out of me. Well if The Agency takes off like I think it will, I will be moving out soon anyway I said. “Honey, you will be thirty years old next week, and you are still living at home, you should have been out of here years ago.” I just haven’t found what I’m good at yet until now! The Agency is going to be my big break.

She held her hand up and began to rattle off the things I have failed at:


1) Paper route
2) lemonade stand
3) dog walker
4) Wal-Mart door greeter
And she went on but I stopped listening at 5. Mom lived under the delusion that I would become some lawyer or CEO or something, but I did better. I became a police chief!

I have a feeling that something good is going to come for me. Mom let me use her credit card to order a couple things online. I got a badge and a siren to put on Squad 1. In the end, Mom agreed to give me three weeks to get The Agency up and running and then I’d go find a “real job”

Thrown Out of the D.A’s Office

My meeting with the District Attorney did not quite go as I had hoped it would. At first we seemed to see eye to eye, and possibly even like a couple of crime fighters just passing the time. Then we shook hands and I started to speak.

He asked twice what department I was with, and when I told him he slammed his fist down on his desk and hollered, “The Agency! What damn agency, and what is that uniform?” Again I explained that I just started up my department and haven’t had time to get any letterhead or business cards or other official things. The D.A. accidentally spilled his coffee cup, causing hot coffee to go all over his hand and computer.

From this point on, the meeting went downhill. I told him about the bull crap the State Police sergeant and his officers did to me at the Farmers Marker. I showed him the picture of my car encased in a ring of shopping buggies. He sat motionless and with a very odd look on his face.

Hoping to move the meeting forward I asked him to sign a letter I had drafted that recognized me as a police chief and the Agency as a true law enforcement division. The letter also advised “all other law enforcement agencies” to show deference and respect to my Squad car and in essence to stop making fun of it. He reluctantly took the letter scanned it then in an act that truly hurt the community did this:

Man how unprofessional can you be? I told him that he was close to getting destruction of police property charges filed on him. With this he grabbed his computer and threw it like a Frisbee against the office door. “What the hell is wrong with you,” he shouted. I didn’t like the aggressive tone so I issued his ass a 3.5 second flashlight shine to the eyes. “What is that shit?” He demanded. I asked if he was ready to be calm or if he wanted a full 4 second burst. With a confused look on his face, he muttered, “but it’s daytime?”

After a few minutes of listening to him curse about never in his life this… And until his dying day he would pursue that…and oh yea, I hope you end up in federal prison for decades and so forth, he allowed me to present my report. I opened my laptop and showed him a few reports. One was from the Farmers Market “Robbery” and the other was from last nights “explosives investigation”. This is him attentively reading much of what you have read:

Shortly after this picture he fell to the ground clutching his chest. I called 911 and prepared to do CPR but he would not allow me to touch him. In his delusion, the D.A. Kept saying “I hate you” and “you’re a complete idiot” and other stuff that made no sense.

Eventually the EMT’s came and loaded him onto a stretcher. I told him that I would be on patrol tonight and could stop by his hospital room to make sure everything was secure. Again in a moment of irrational delusion he screamed, “get this Sonofabitch out of my face before I kill him myself!”

With everyone out of the office I picked up my letter that he so rudely destroyed and pieced it back together. I noticed a little signature stamp on his desk. Thinking of my city, my duty and the criminals who needed to face their responsibilities, I stamped his signature on my letter!