Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Cops out of control, or Barney Fyfe with a katana

We seem to have a lot of such stories lately, about cops going out of control.  I think the reasona are:
1. A lot more reporting on such incidents.
2. Cops are out of control, at least more so than they used to be.
3. Heaps more Third world immigrants for cops to watch out for and maybe overreact to.
4. Lots of encouragement from Obama and his White liberal enablers for the Trayvons out there to act up.

Whatever the reasons, it's a real phenomenon. Bob Wallace writes a morality tale about it.  Oh, the illustration. I couldn't find anthing both appropriate and attractive, so I settled for something peripherally appropriate and cute. This is Jubei-Chan the Ninja Girl.  I'm not sure if the girl is her secret identity or her Robin-like teenage companion.  You'll have to look it up yourself.  Now to Bob:



I wrote this ten years ago. Goodness, was I prescient. How we've got dumb cops blowing away teenage boys when they open the door...and so on and so forth. I figure the police attract psychopaths anyway. So much for the wonders of the Dark Triad.


The time: right about now. The location: these days, just about any place in the United States. The characters: an accountant, a Chevy Cavalier, a poodle, and several police dressed completely in black, just like ninjas in a cheap kung fu film.

Wannabe Ninjas: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Accountant (getting out of car): What the heck is this? (He looks down and counts all the holes in him.) You idiots just shot me 54 times! I'm not going to survive this, you know! And I've got a wife and two young daughters!

Head Wannabe Ninja: You're a drug dealer!

Accountant: I am not! I'm an accountant! See the horn-rimmed glasses, the pocket protector and the tidy little mustache? You've got the wrong guy!

Assistant Wannabe Ninja (whispering to Head Wannabe): He's right. We're in the wrong neighborhood. Hell, we're in the wrong city!

Head Wannabe: Doesn't matter. I say he's a drug dealer and that's all that counts. None of you guys worry; nothing's going to happen to us. We're cops and we're above the law.

Accountant (looking in car): You shot my poodle.

Head Wannabe: He tried to attack us.

Accountant: Seventeen years old, blind and toothless? I don't think so.

Head Wannabe: I say he tried to attack us! What do you guys say?

Wannabes: We all have toothmarks!

Accountant: Look at all the holes in my car!

Head Wannabe: You tried to run us over.

Accountant: The car's broke! I was waiting for a tow truck!

Head Wannabe: I say you tried to run us over. What do you guys say?

Wannabes: Look at the tire marks all over us!

Accountant: You guys are a joke! Where's your warrant?

Head Wannabe: Warrant? We ain't got no warrant! We don't need no warrant! We don't have to show you no steenkin' warrant!

Accountant: Let me see your badges!

Head Wannabe: (BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!) We don't need no steenkin' badges either!

Accountant: Ack! Gack! (topples over, exits)

Assistant Wannabe: He's dead, Jim. What are we supposed to do now?

Head Wannabe: Cuff him! Can't take any chances even if he is dead! It's the rules!

Assistant Wannabe: What about this dead dog?

Head Wannabe: Cuff all three parts of him.

Assistant Wannabe: Think we should put a gun in his hand to make it look like a good shoot?

Head Wannabe: Naw. Ain't nothing going to happen to us anyway. Why waste a good throw-down?

Assistant Wannabe: Think we should at least put drugs in his car? I mean, he was innocent, you know. We might get into a little trouble here.

Head Wannabe: Nope, don't worry about anything. Nothing's going to happen to us as long as we say he tried to run us down, or we thought his cellphone was a gun, or he made some kind of threatening move like blinking an eye.

Assistant Wannabe: God, I love the War on Drugs!

Head Wannabe: Me too! Hey guys, isn't this great!

All the Wannabes: (firing machine-guns into the air like a gang of drunken bandits): Yay!

2 comments:

  1. Who knew police brutality could be such a source of levity?

    ReplyDelete