A mostly abnormal day in the life of Steve the police officer. Who's wife is dead.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Our poor protagonist Steve must bring his dead wife to justice and he can only do that by enlisting the help of a convict rather than use his authority as a police officer to try and sort his problems out.

The joyous and annoying yelps and screams of children surrounded him as he sat on a bench looking at the ground as if to find the answer to his prayers in the asphalt, he still couldn’t reach a conclusion. But he did realise that this was probably a poorly picked location for lamenting on his poor life choices.

A dull thud announced another person’s entrance into his current unfortunate situation.

“You’re a cop not a pilot Steve, get your head out of the clouds.” he handed him what felt like and smelled like and in hindsight probably was, lukewarm hot chocolate. “Listen man I know it’s hard and I also know what you’ve gotten yourself into. I’m not going to pretend that I agree with your decisions but I do understand why you’ve made them and I want to help you.”

“How far did you walk, this chocolate is pretty col-” Steve’s response was cut short by his colleague’s annoyed bark.

“Don’t change the subject! If you don’t want the hot chocolate, give it back.” he snapped, Steve clutched the cup at his chest and frowned.  “Last time I checked Joseph Franks was a wanted man,” he looked flatly at Steve “You gotta turn him in, there are other ways to do this.”

“He’s helping me Harry he used to run with these guys, I need his help and he needs mine.”

“Oh so you’re gonna try to get him pardoned, is that it? For what, so you can nearly get yourself killed, we don’t need you to die too, this isn’t going to bring Lucy back.” At that, the line was crossed, Steve stood abruptly, tossing the hot chocolate into the conveniently placed bin hoping to hell he didn’t miss and look like a fool.

“You know what, screw you I’m doing what I think is right, you said you were trying to help but you’re just trying to stop me. You can go to hell Harry.” with everything that could be said without losing an asset was said, Steve walked towards the car park trying not to trample on any toddlers.

Glancing at his tires as he approached he found that they sagged and scraps of them lay on the ground beside like the children to a very strange black slug and he cursed loudly at his misfortune.

“Oi, mate!” The force and impact of what felt like a small jackhammer crashed into the back of his head as the ground became somewhat more intimate with his face.

“I hate to break you and break it to you friend but your encore has lasted for far too long, the crowd has gotten fed up and most of them have walked off.” Which under the circumstances was an odd thing to say, Steve’s only plausible response in the circumstances was,

“mmmmmnnnnmm,” followed by “nmnmnm.” Due to the fact that he had woken in a rather dark room tied up and gagged, which rather bothered him because he really felt like insulting the man’s odd ‘greeting’ but he was also secretly glad as he felt slightly concussed and he didn’t feel like he could as eloquently voice his distaste at this time.

“shush shush little piggy, you thought your brick house could keep me out, but the wolf is more cunning than you thought and he learnt how to correctly and effectively use a wrecking ball, and now your house has lost it’s main supports and is crumbling down and getting into your lovely roast dinner. You would be going hungry if you wern't going to be killed today anyway.” A balaclava clad burly man with a slightly bloody cricket bat coughed loudly and deliberately knocking the strange supervillain wannabe off his flow. He sighed and mercilessly tore the duct tape from Steve’s face.

“youve gat stoopid metafloors” He said smiling at himself for telling the man how it was and then proceeded to be assisted into unconsciousness by a hidden third balaclava man who was kind enough to

 


Submitted: October 10, 2013

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