Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
*High Fives Saskia*
Don't worry man, you have friends here.
Don't worry man, you have friends here.
Respect is everything(GTA:SA SI)
- Thread starter MarekGutkowski
- Start date
30
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
So Colonel what his face made a phone call to the local sheriff to act as a witness to singing the deed papers for the airfield. His words not mine. When I asked why the sheriff out of all people. He said and I quote.
"to rub the in the fuzzy fuck face that I'm rich now."
At this point I no longer wanted to be in that gentleman company, and went to inspect the Rustler that currently sat in one of the open hangars.
My first impression of the fighter was how small it was.
I know how big a Spitfire was, this thing was far smaller than that. I looked at the wing mounted guns. Those barrels looked far too small to be 50 cals. Trying to put my finger in one of the confirmed my assessment. 7,62 mm most likely, your basic garden variety rifle round. Three on each wing six in total.
I checked the control surfaces after that, ailerons moved, flaps were locked in place, rudder and horizontal stabilizers looked good also.
Not that I know anything about air planes in the first place. For all I knew any real pilot would yell at me for missing the obvious things that were wrong with all the things I checked.
Me actually trying to fly this thing may end up being an inventive way of committing suicide!
"Oh well in for a penny in for a pound." I said end opened the canopy.
It was quite lighter than I expected, then again it was a flimsy piece of Plexiglas.
I looked inside the cockpit.
I face palmed.
I really shouldn't be surprised, yet somehow still my expectations were a bit higher. In their defence it was a perfectly serviceable aircraft cockpit if horrendously simplified.
The problem was it was Microsoft DOS game level of detail. I will not bore you with the details. Partly due to the fact I had no idea what half of the things inside did. I went with the thing I was the most familiar with, and that is the radio.
It was labelled Mark MIC wireless. So Mk 1099 in Arabic numerals. Distinctly not American sounding designation.
I put on the headset. A Soviet style padded canvas tanker helmet. To that I had no objections. I knew the thing well and used one in the army, this one was a winter variant with lovely warm fur on the inside of it. Yes I was in the desert.
I flipped the radio on. It was tuned in to the Las Venturas International Airport Air Traffic Controller frequency.
I got out of the plane physically ill.
It was a jungle out there. RC procedure was not observed at all. From what I heard trying to land on LV I'ntl was as safe as walking on the freeway. You could do it, it was however very much discouraged if you wanted to live for more than five seconds.
I opened the engine compartment and again I should not be surprised.
There was a Vee Twelve engine inside. The plaque on the engine block said it was Acme Inc. Trevor the Wonderful Wizard Model 1337. Someone's lame joke about R&R Merlin engine's name. The manufacturers name did not filled me with much confidence, either. My name was not Wile E. Coyote, nor was I trying to catch any roadrunners.
"Hey Ma'am the sheriff is here." Jar spoke up getting my attention.
"What do you do for a living?" I asked the man. He may prove useful.
"I'm a farm hand." He said.
He did sound embarrassed admitting that. Good for me.
"Do you want run this airfield?" I asked.
"I know nothing about running a fancy airfield." He said.
"Perfect neither do I." I said. "How much do you make as a farm hand."
"hundred bucks a week."
"I'll pay you 200$ a week to run this place." I gave my incisive offer.
"Man you are cheap!" he said
"How am I cheap?" I said in calm and collected manner. It did not let out an indignant shriek, no sirie not me nuhah.
"You just pulled a cool ten million out of your pocket, and you want to pay me just below the poverty line!"
"You can live here." I pointed out.
He looked to the left then to his right. The expression on his face was telling me how much unimpressed he was with the idea.
"No not in the hangar, in the control tower." He just gave a flat look at me saying that.
"I'll buy you an RV." I tried.
"Deal!" his whole face lit up and he grabbed my hand. "Shucks ma'am you are very generous! Thank you kindly!"
He was shaking my hand vigorously and my frame with it. It took some force to get my hand back from his grip.
"Hey you!" Came a call from outside the hangar. I looked in the direction and noticed the sheriff. I turned to face him.
"We around here don't take kindly to the likes of you!" He said in a southern brawl.
"City slickers?" I asked for clarification.
"Niggers!" Oh. 'Women' would have been my second choice.
"So are we signing the papers or what?" I asked not really carrying for his words.
"That's your boy?" He pointed to Jar.
At this moment I pulled out a next crisp 100.000 Dollar build and handed it to Jar.
"This is for your RV and your advance. You will bring me the receipt for the RV."
"Ma'am, Yes Ma'am!" awfully formal of him. I turned to the sheriff.
"He is my employee," I said. "He will be running this place in my absence.
"Good!" Sheriff Racists McRacist face said quite loudly. "We donne need more of you's here."
I tried to ignore him.
Signing the deed was a simple formality. We put our names on the paper and then the witnesses signed theirs. It was all done in four copies. One for each. The sheriff had showcased his wide range of vocabulary to insult people with, all with racist undertones all directed at me. we did the paper work on the hood of his squad car. The moment all signing was done I asked.
"You suck your daddy's dick with that mouth?" And punched the man in the jaw as hard as I could.
Going down his head dented his car a bit.
It made Jar jump while the old timer colonel just giggled.
"Why you gone and done did that?!?" Jar exclaimed in what I was 99% certain was not proper queen's English.
"Heh heh heh he ain't getting up for a while." Colonel 'I in ride around in a wheel chair because I'm a lazy piece of shit even if my legs work just fine' said with glee. I think I was set up. He had to have known I would do something about the racist he invited.
"He had it coming!" I said.
"I'll say," The colonel said. His name was on the paper but I forgot it the moment I saw it. "Fucker been bugging me since he wore a diaper."
There must have been some history between them but I couldn't be bother to care about it.
"You assaulted a lawman," Jar continued. He wasn't wrong. "They are going to hang you."
Well that doesn't sound that bad... ,wait what? That last part of Jar's sentence got my uninvited attention.
"What you mean hang me?" I exclaimed
"We you are of uhm…"Jar paused looking for word. "of African descent."
"How does that have anything to do with anything?" I asked I wasn't really following his logic.
"We are in the middle of inbred retard country! Normal folk don't live here" I looked at the colonel how he would react to those words. He didn't he was currently poking the downed sheriff with a stick. Giggling.
"They them are all bunch of clans men!" Jar kept on speaking. "They will lynch you! You need to get out of here fast!"
Somehow I doubted his words. On the other hand, better safe than sorry. Getting out of the desert was on my 'to do' list anyway.
I had two options, borrowing Jar's SuperGT and driving on the freeway all the way to Los Santos, or taking the plane I knew nothing about really and flying there. Both of those options were very much suicidal.
If Jar's words were to be believed the third option involved facing a Lynch mob.
I weighted my option.
Airplane, pro; It will be fast. Con; I'm not a pilot.
Car, pro; I don't see any. Con; driving on the freeway was more terrifying that getting shot at.
Lynch mod, pro, I don't need to drive or fly. Con; Getting lynched did not sounded at all pleasant.
I was still weighting my options.
Drive, fly or get lynched? That really was a difficult decision.
"to rub the in the fuzzy fuck face that I'm rich now."
At this point I no longer wanted to be in that gentleman company, and went to inspect the Rustler that currently sat in one of the open hangars.
My first impression of the fighter was how small it was.
I know how big a Spitfire was, this thing was far smaller than that. I looked at the wing mounted guns. Those barrels looked far too small to be 50 cals. Trying to put my finger in one of the confirmed my assessment. 7,62 mm most likely, your basic garden variety rifle round. Three on each wing six in total.
I checked the control surfaces after that, ailerons moved, flaps were locked in place, rudder and horizontal stabilizers looked good also.
Not that I know anything about air planes in the first place. For all I knew any real pilot would yell at me for missing the obvious things that were wrong with all the things I checked.
Me actually trying to fly this thing may end up being an inventive way of committing suicide!
"Oh well in for a penny in for a pound." I said end opened the canopy.
It was quite lighter than I expected, then again it was a flimsy piece of Plexiglas.
I looked inside the cockpit.
I face palmed.
I really shouldn't be surprised, yet somehow still my expectations were a bit higher. In their defence it was a perfectly serviceable aircraft cockpit if horrendously simplified.
The problem was it was Microsoft DOS game level of detail. I will not bore you with the details. Partly due to the fact I had no idea what half of the things inside did. I went with the thing I was the most familiar with, and that is the radio.
It was labelled Mark MIC wireless. So Mk 1099 in Arabic numerals. Distinctly not American sounding designation.
I put on the headset. A Soviet style padded canvas tanker helmet. To that I had no objections. I knew the thing well and used one in the army, this one was a winter variant with lovely warm fur on the inside of it. Yes I was in the desert.
I flipped the radio on. It was tuned in to the Las Venturas International Airport Air Traffic Controller frequency.
I got out of the plane physically ill.
It was a jungle out there. RC procedure was not observed at all. From what I heard trying to land on LV I'ntl was as safe as walking on the freeway. You could do it, it was however very much discouraged if you wanted to live for more than five seconds.
I opened the engine compartment and again I should not be surprised.
There was a Vee Twelve engine inside. The plaque on the engine block said it was Acme Inc. Trevor the Wonderful Wizard Model 1337. Someone's lame joke about R&R Merlin engine's name. The manufacturers name did not filled me with much confidence, either. My name was not Wile E. Coyote, nor was I trying to catch any roadrunners.
"Hey Ma'am the sheriff is here." Jar spoke up getting my attention.
"What do you do for a living?" I asked the man. He may prove useful.
"I'm a farm hand." He said.
He did sound embarrassed admitting that. Good for me.
"Do you want run this airfield?" I asked.
"I know nothing about running a fancy airfield." He said.
"Perfect neither do I." I said. "How much do you make as a farm hand."
"hundred bucks a week."
"I'll pay you 200$ a week to run this place." I gave my incisive offer.
"Man you are cheap!" he said
"How am I cheap?" I said in calm and collected manner. It did not let out an indignant shriek, no sirie not me nuhah.
"You just pulled a cool ten million out of your pocket, and you want to pay me just below the poverty line!"
"You can live here." I pointed out.
He looked to the left then to his right. The expression on his face was telling me how much unimpressed he was with the idea.
"No not in the hangar, in the control tower." He just gave a flat look at me saying that.
"I'll buy you an RV." I tried.
"Deal!" his whole face lit up and he grabbed my hand. "Shucks ma'am you are very generous! Thank you kindly!"
He was shaking my hand vigorously and my frame with it. It took some force to get my hand back from his grip.
"Hey you!" Came a call from outside the hangar. I looked in the direction and noticed the sheriff. I turned to face him.
"We around here don't take kindly to the likes of you!" He said in a southern brawl.
"City slickers?" I asked for clarification.
"Niggers!" Oh. 'Women' would have been my second choice.
"So are we signing the papers or what?" I asked not really carrying for his words.
"That's your boy?" He pointed to Jar.
At this moment I pulled out a next crisp 100.000 Dollar build and handed it to Jar.
"This is for your RV and your advance. You will bring me the receipt for the RV."
"Ma'am, Yes Ma'am!" awfully formal of him. I turned to the sheriff.
"He is my employee," I said. "He will be running this place in my absence.
"Good!" Sheriff Racists McRacist face said quite loudly. "We donne need more of you's here."
I tried to ignore him.
Signing the deed was a simple formality. We put our names on the paper and then the witnesses signed theirs. It was all done in four copies. One for each. The sheriff had showcased his wide range of vocabulary to insult people with, all with racist undertones all directed at me. we did the paper work on the hood of his squad car. The moment all signing was done I asked.
"You suck your daddy's dick with that mouth?" And punched the man in the jaw as hard as I could.
Going down his head dented his car a bit.
It made Jar jump while the old timer colonel just giggled.
"Why you gone and done did that?!?" Jar exclaimed in what I was 99% certain was not proper queen's English.
"Heh heh heh he ain't getting up for a while." Colonel 'I in ride around in a wheel chair because I'm a lazy piece of shit even if my legs work just fine' said with glee. I think I was set up. He had to have known I would do something about the racist he invited.
"He had it coming!" I said.
"I'll say," The colonel said. His name was on the paper but I forgot it the moment I saw it. "Fucker been bugging me since he wore a diaper."
There must have been some history between them but I couldn't be bother to care about it.
"You assaulted a lawman," Jar continued. He wasn't wrong. "They are going to hang you."
Well that doesn't sound that bad... ,wait what? That last part of Jar's sentence got my uninvited attention.
"What you mean hang me?" I exclaimed
"We you are of uhm…"Jar paused looking for word. "of African descent."
"How does that have anything to do with anything?" I asked I wasn't really following his logic.
"We are in the middle of inbred retard country! Normal folk don't live here" I looked at the colonel how he would react to those words. He didn't he was currently poking the downed sheriff with a stick. Giggling.
"They them are all bunch of clans men!" Jar kept on speaking. "They will lynch you! You need to get out of here fast!"
Somehow I doubted his words. On the other hand, better safe than sorry. Getting out of the desert was on my 'to do' list anyway.
I had two options, borrowing Jar's SuperGT and driving on the freeway all the way to Los Santos, or taking the plane I knew nothing about really and flying there. Both of those options were very much suicidal.
If Jar's words were to be believed the third option involved facing a Lynch mob.
I weighted my option.
Airplane, pro; It will be fast. Con; I'm not a pilot.
Car, pro; I don't see any. Con; driving on the freeway was more terrifying that getting shot at.
Lynch mod, pro, I don't need to drive or fly. Con; Getting lynched did not sounded at all pleasant.
I was still weighting my options.
Drive, fly or get lynched? That really was a difficult decision.
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
It says a lot that I can't actually argue with you on the decision portion of that. XD
The question is, are you appropriately armed at the moment?
Because Lynch Mob works well if you have enough Dakka.
Otherwise I would recommend the flying. See if you can't get the Colonel to do the flying or tell you how... I am sure that with a quick Idiot's Guide tutorial from him you should be fiiiiiiiine.
Also, seeing Jar effectively say "We are in the middle of inbred retard country! Normal folk don't live here" made me laugh. Nice to know that despite being part of that, he understands whats what. You found yourself one of the few Black Sheeps in the lot.
The question is, are you appropriately armed at the moment?
Because Lynch Mob works well if you have enough Dakka.
Otherwise I would recommend the flying. See if you can't get the Colonel to do the flying or tell you how... I am sure that with a quick Idiot's Guide tutorial from him you should be fiiiiiiiine.
Also, seeing Jar effectively say "We are in the middle of inbred retard country! Normal folk don't live here" made me laugh. Nice to know that despite being part of that, he understands whats what. You found yourself one of the few Black Sheeps in the lot.
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
Technically unarmed. There is the sheriffs pistol and nightstick and GTA;SA police vehicles always have a shotgun and five shells in them.
Thing is GTA yokels when armed tend to carry a rifle. So they will out range our protagonist.
Emphasis added.
In GTA:SA flying aircrafts is easy after you get over using controls not designed for controlling airplanes.
I am a bit of a flight sim fan, and been one since about 1991 when I got my Commodore 64.
Flying is not easy.
Well it is when you are already in the air and flying in a straight line. Taking off is hard, landing is harder still.
I'm planning on using like I was for the rest of the story, real life physics.
So trying to fly should be an experience.
In my personal experience people tend to insult people with terms they themselves consider insulting.
So a redneck will call other people redneck. The kettle calling the pot black sort of thing, as illogical as it sounds.
I was planing to making a joke about what he said in the next chapter. It would have been in this one but I wanted to have a feeling of urgency.
31
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
31
I held the ice pack to my head and waited for the world to stop spinning. Turns out playing various computer flights sims since early 1990's did prepared me for the actual thing as much as sitting infront of a desk with a dinner plate in had playing at driving a car prepared me for being a driver.
The plane I attempted to pilot was tail up, nose in the mud at the end of the dirt runway.
Jar was walking around the crash site I had to take full responsibility for. I asked him to check the damage. I hoped the plane was fixable. Looking up in the sky gave me a terrible case of vertigo for the head movement. Plane crashes had similar effect to bike crushes on my person. Fun they were not.
Last time I felt so shitty was way back when crawling in the bushes with a couple bottles dirt cheap wine was my idea of wild night on the town. The hangovers I endured back them were a killer. At the moment I felt about as bad.
"Well the spindly thing fell off." Jar said, him addressing me made me open my eyes again to figure out what he was talking about.
"What?" I asked.
"The spindly part is gone." He spoke as I closed one eye to figure out which of the two of him spoke.
Oh I'm seeing double, that is just dandy.
"Do you mean the propeller?"
"Yeah the thing with the paddles that went around and around, it ain't there no more."
"Isn't" I corrected. I maybe a bit out of it but there is no such thing as 'Ain't'
"Yeah it ain't" Jar gave a nod that told me my correcting him didn't even register.
"What else?" I asked moving the ice in the bag around, it was starting to be more of a water pack than an ice pack. Come to think of it where did he get it from?
"The grill is full of sand and rocks. The radiator is busted."
It took me a moment to figure out what part of a plane this 'grill' could be. The answer was so obvious I mentally kicked myself for how long it took me to decipher.
"The Engine's Air Intake." I said and for some reason could not stop thinking about ice in a desert.
"The scoop under the spindly thing with paddles" Jar said. "Full of rocks and the water dripped out of the radiator."
"Where did you get the ice pack?" I asked somehow thinking the answer to this question was hugely important.
"From the neighbors." He said and pointed behind me.
It took some effort but I turned to look where he was pointing.
"Howdy Neighbor." Two of the eight people behind me said.
I closed one eye.
Correction, one of the four people behind me said.
"Hi" I said, I wanted to wave at them but decided if I move the hand that supported me I'd will fall down, so I didn't.
"My name is Jeb." Said the one male pointing to another, "This is Gertrude. And the two boys are Bill and Billy our eldest."
Oh, so the one person on the right is female. Good to know, I guess.
"I'm Saskia." I introduced myself.
"Heard you bought this place from the Colonel." Said the female sounding voice.
"Yes." I would have given a nod but I didn't want to move my head.
"You are Rapper?" asked one of the Bill's.
"No." I said wondering why he would ask that. "I'm a Police Officer."
"They must be paying you people well…" Said one of the Bill's and got smacked upside the head by his mother.
"Don't say 'you people'!" Snapped the lady. "I brought you up better than that!"
"Apologies to the nice black lady!" snapped the dad.
And got smacked upside the head by his wife.
"Don't call her black!!!" hissed the lady.
I turned back to Jar who was still looking the Ruster I crashed over.
"Can it be fixed?" I asked.
"Donno, will try." Was his answer. "Still you need to get going. Them Klansmen will be coming."
Considering I was unable to stand up at the moment, my situation looked far from rosy.
"Klansmen? Why Klansmen!?!" asked the lady behind me, who I believed was called Gertrude, alarm in her voice.
"Miss Saskia knocked Sheriff's lights out." Jar explained to them. "We are trying to get her away from here before the lynching happens."
Looking back I should have said something, to Jar, about not advertising my troubles to the people around me. At the moment I didn't much care. Concussions mellows you out it seems.
I only heard a lot of footsteps from the four people that I guess identified themselves as my new neighbors. They were some shouting between them. As I turned around they were nowhere to be seen. I tried to stand up and wave them goodbye but the motion made me throw up.
I believe I passed out shortly after that.
------
Everything was shaking as I woke up.
"Oh thank God, she is awake." Said the white hooded figure that was kneeling over me.
I recognized the voice. It was Jackie. I couldn't see her face because of the hood she had on. I looked at my surroundings. I was on my back in a windowless van.
"That's cool." Said the equally hooded driver. This voice I recognized also. Johnny or J-dip-dip something or other he liked people to call him. He was driving the van we were in.
"Hey why is he the one driving?" Another hooded figure spoke. "I should be the one driving!"
Ok while both Jackie and Johnny being present did not surprise me much, the third voice did. Why was CJ out of all people with us?
"I'm driving 'cause the van's mine!" retorted Johnny from behind the wheel.
"You jacked it like everybody else does!" Said Carl. "I drive this piece of shit just as much as anybody in Gonton."
"Yeah but today I jacked it first!" said Johnny with a shrug.
"Why are all of you dressed as KKK?" I asked because seeing three of the people I talk to on regular basis in white robes somehow didn't sit well with me. I looked down at myself. I had the same get up they did.
"Why am I dressed the same way?!?" I demanded to know.
"Saskia." Jackie begun. "I got a phone call from some guy named Jar. He said you are passed out and in a lot of trouble and that we need to come and pick you up."
"Ok" I blinked so far I followed.
"I called Johnny and asked him to help me get you back." Jackie continued. "Carl sort of came along."
"I heard you are passed out in the middle of the desert I just had to go see that!" Carl put in. "That was some funny shit!"
I couldn't really think of anything to say about that. I just glared at him. It had little effect. I had a hood on and his back was facing me.
"So we drove…"
"All the way to the fucking desert!" Johnny interjected.
"To where the guy said you is…"
"Get yourself a cell phone!" Carl said. "You know how much it cost me to make all the phone calls I did? That shit ain't cheap."
"I fallow so far and thank you." I said. "Now Jackie please get to the part where you dressed me up and yourself as Klansmen."
"The bunch of crackers that had you did that to you." Johnny said.
"This Jar fellow that was on the phone with CJ told us were to meet him." Jackie went on telling the story. "He stopped us by the road next to the train tracks and gave us the robes. When we got to you there was a cross burning by the control tower."
"I did some strange things, but I never was to a cross burning before." CJ said in a tone that for him was strangely introspective. "That was some weird ass shit."
"The beer and the burgers were nice tho' ,never thought Klan thrown such nice parties." Johnny added.
"Wait, what?" was all I could said.
"Long story short, we disguised ourselves and you so we won't get lynched." Jackie finished.
"Bunch of cracker retards! Two brothers and a sister crashed their Lynching and they didn't even notice." Johnny said as we drove on. "Hell they didn't even noticed the bitch whose black ass they came to lynch was passed out on a lawn chair few feet away."
"I got a bunch of pictures." CJ said and pulled out a camera before snapping a photo of Jackie and me sitting in the back of the van.
I rolled my eyes not thinking about how weird it all was. The head splitting pain I felt before was now just a dull sensation in the back of my head. I checked for any damage I sustained in the plane crash. Pulling of the pointed hood hat thing I looked down my robe then promptly at Jackie. She noticed the displeasure on my face.
"I didn't do that." She said with a roll of her eyes. "That Gertrude lady did. She said you were covered in puke and stank to high heaven. She stripped you down and hosed you off before putting the robe on. You have to give it back. It belongs to her husband."
"Johnny." I said ignoring that part of the story. "How far away from home are we?"
"Hours."
"Fuck it, I'm sleeping the whole thing off like a bad hangover." I said and curled up in a ball. "Thanks again for the save."
"You owe us big time." Johnny said.
I guessed I would have to do something to show my gratitude at a later date. Right now I just wanted to put the whole abortive flight lesson behind me. I need flight lessons.
I held the ice pack to my head and waited for the world to stop spinning. Turns out playing various computer flights sims since early 1990's did prepared me for the actual thing as much as sitting infront of a desk with a dinner plate in had playing at driving a car prepared me for being a driver.
The plane I attempted to pilot was tail up, nose in the mud at the end of the dirt runway.
Jar was walking around the crash site I had to take full responsibility for. I asked him to check the damage. I hoped the plane was fixable. Looking up in the sky gave me a terrible case of vertigo for the head movement. Plane crashes had similar effect to bike crushes on my person. Fun they were not.
Last time I felt so shitty was way back when crawling in the bushes with a couple bottles dirt cheap wine was my idea of wild night on the town. The hangovers I endured back them were a killer. At the moment I felt about as bad.
"Well the spindly thing fell off." Jar said, him addressing me made me open my eyes again to figure out what he was talking about.
"What?" I asked.
"The spindly part is gone." He spoke as I closed one eye to figure out which of the two of him spoke.
Oh I'm seeing double, that is just dandy.
"Do you mean the propeller?"
"Yeah the thing with the paddles that went around and around, it ain't there no more."
"Isn't" I corrected. I maybe a bit out of it but there is no such thing as 'Ain't'
"Yeah it ain't" Jar gave a nod that told me my correcting him didn't even register.
"What else?" I asked moving the ice in the bag around, it was starting to be more of a water pack than an ice pack. Come to think of it where did he get it from?
"The grill is full of sand and rocks. The radiator is busted."
It took me a moment to figure out what part of a plane this 'grill' could be. The answer was so obvious I mentally kicked myself for how long it took me to decipher.
"The Engine's Air Intake." I said and for some reason could not stop thinking about ice in a desert.
"The scoop under the spindly thing with paddles" Jar said. "Full of rocks and the water dripped out of the radiator."
"Where did you get the ice pack?" I asked somehow thinking the answer to this question was hugely important.
"From the neighbors." He said and pointed behind me.
It took some effort but I turned to look where he was pointing.
"Howdy Neighbor." Two of the eight people behind me said.
I closed one eye.
Correction, one of the four people behind me said.
"Hi" I said, I wanted to wave at them but decided if I move the hand that supported me I'd will fall down, so I didn't.
"My name is Jeb." Said the one male pointing to another, "This is Gertrude. And the two boys are Bill and Billy our eldest."
Oh, so the one person on the right is female. Good to know, I guess.
"I'm Saskia." I introduced myself.
"Heard you bought this place from the Colonel." Said the female sounding voice.
"Yes." I would have given a nod but I didn't want to move my head.
"You are Rapper?" asked one of the Bill's.
"No." I said wondering why he would ask that. "I'm a Police Officer."
"They must be paying you people well…" Said one of the Bill's and got smacked upside the head by his mother.
"Don't say 'you people'!" Snapped the lady. "I brought you up better than that!"
"Apologies to the nice black lady!" snapped the dad.
And got smacked upside the head by his wife.
"Don't call her black!!!" hissed the lady.
I turned back to Jar who was still looking the Ruster I crashed over.
"Can it be fixed?" I asked.
"Donno, will try." Was his answer. "Still you need to get going. Them Klansmen will be coming."
Considering I was unable to stand up at the moment, my situation looked far from rosy.
"Klansmen? Why Klansmen!?!" asked the lady behind me, who I believed was called Gertrude, alarm in her voice.
"Miss Saskia knocked Sheriff's lights out." Jar explained to them. "We are trying to get her away from here before the lynching happens."
Looking back I should have said something, to Jar, about not advertising my troubles to the people around me. At the moment I didn't much care. Concussions mellows you out it seems.
I only heard a lot of footsteps from the four people that I guess identified themselves as my new neighbors. They were some shouting between them. As I turned around they were nowhere to be seen. I tried to stand up and wave them goodbye but the motion made me throw up.
I believe I passed out shortly after that.
------
Everything was shaking as I woke up.
"Oh thank God, she is awake." Said the white hooded figure that was kneeling over me.
I recognized the voice. It was Jackie. I couldn't see her face because of the hood she had on. I looked at my surroundings. I was on my back in a windowless van.
"That's cool." Said the equally hooded driver. This voice I recognized also. Johnny or J-dip-dip something or other he liked people to call him. He was driving the van we were in.
"Hey why is he the one driving?" Another hooded figure spoke. "I should be the one driving!"
Ok while both Jackie and Johnny being present did not surprise me much, the third voice did. Why was CJ out of all people with us?
"I'm driving 'cause the van's mine!" retorted Johnny from behind the wheel.
"You jacked it like everybody else does!" Said Carl. "I drive this piece of shit just as much as anybody in Gonton."
"Yeah but today I jacked it first!" said Johnny with a shrug.
"Why are all of you dressed as KKK?" I asked because seeing three of the people I talk to on regular basis in white robes somehow didn't sit well with me. I looked down at myself. I had the same get up they did.
"Why am I dressed the same way?!?" I demanded to know.
"Saskia." Jackie begun. "I got a phone call from some guy named Jar. He said you are passed out and in a lot of trouble and that we need to come and pick you up."
"Ok" I blinked so far I followed.
"I called Johnny and asked him to help me get you back." Jackie continued. "Carl sort of came along."
"I heard you are passed out in the middle of the desert I just had to go see that!" Carl put in. "That was some funny shit!"
I couldn't really think of anything to say about that. I just glared at him. It had little effect. I had a hood on and his back was facing me.
"So we drove…"
"All the way to the fucking desert!" Johnny interjected.
"To where the guy said you is…"
"Get yourself a cell phone!" Carl said. "You know how much it cost me to make all the phone calls I did? That shit ain't cheap."
"I fallow so far and thank you." I said. "Now Jackie please get to the part where you dressed me up and yourself as Klansmen."
"The bunch of crackers that had you did that to you." Johnny said.
"This Jar fellow that was on the phone with CJ told us were to meet him." Jackie went on telling the story. "He stopped us by the road next to the train tracks and gave us the robes. When we got to you there was a cross burning by the control tower."
"I did some strange things, but I never was to a cross burning before." CJ said in a tone that for him was strangely introspective. "That was some weird ass shit."
"The beer and the burgers were nice tho' ,never thought Klan thrown such nice parties." Johnny added.
"Wait, what?" was all I could said.
"Long story short, we disguised ourselves and you so we won't get lynched." Jackie finished.
"Bunch of cracker retards! Two brothers and a sister crashed their Lynching and they didn't even notice." Johnny said as we drove on. "Hell they didn't even noticed the bitch whose black ass they came to lynch was passed out on a lawn chair few feet away."
"I got a bunch of pictures." CJ said and pulled out a camera before snapping a photo of Jackie and me sitting in the back of the van.
I rolled my eyes not thinking about how weird it all was. The head splitting pain I felt before was now just a dull sensation in the back of my head. I checked for any damage I sustained in the plane crash. Pulling of the pointed hood hat thing I looked down my robe then promptly at Jackie. She noticed the displeasure on my face.
"I didn't do that." She said with a roll of her eyes. "That Gertrude lady did. She said you were covered in puke and stank to high heaven. She stripped you down and hosed you off before putting the robe on. You have to give it back. It belongs to her husband."
"Johnny." I said ignoring that part of the story. "How far away from home are we?"
"Hours."
"Fuck it, I'm sleeping the whole thing off like a bad hangover." I said and curled up in a ball. "Thanks again for the save."
"You owe us big time." Johnny said.
I guessed I would have to do something to show my gratitude at a later date. Right now I just wanted to put the whole abortive flight lesson behind me. I need flight lessons.
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
I know this has been used before every once in awhile, but god damn is it as funny to me each time I come across something similar as it was the very first time I saw it.
Thank you for the laugh, I really needed it today.
32
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
"Another Day another Dollar." I said as I walk in the door of the LSPD HQ.
I expected yelling but everybody seemed to take my extended absence in a stride. Reason for it was reviled to me a little time later. As it turns out the Paramedics that patched me up filed that my injuries necessitated a four day sick leave. So I was covered in that area. My training officer for today was the fat lady Fish something. Good for me, working with her was far less stressful that my usual outings.
We took our guns from the lock up then went to the motor pool.I tried to ignore her looking at me funny the whole time.
"What!" I finally asked after something like fifteen minutes.
"The hell happened to your hair?" she asked.
I looked at her and read the name tag on her uniform. It read 'Seaborne' and not 'fish something' at least I was in the same ball park with my recollection.
"I had a crazy night in Ve…" I stopped myself, before saying Vegas. In this world no such place existed. "Las Venturas."
"Do tell." She said and waited. I guessed it wasn't used as a figure of speech.
"I actually don't remember any of it. Woke up in a hotel room with the rainbow Mo-hawk already on my head." I said looking ahead. I was driving and needed my eyes on the road.
"Woke up alone?" She asked.
"No, there was a buck tooth redneck with me."
"Hehehe."
"He said nothing happened and that he behaved like a perfect gentleman."
"And you believed him?" The was a patronizing note in her voice.
I thought about it for a moment. Then decided the treading that road would only welcome madness. So I forced myself to think about something else.
"So what do we have on the menu for today?" I asked changing the subject. "It's kind of the wrong time of the day to go "fag hunting" " I actually made bunny ear air quotes saying that. I immediately felt dirty for the gesture.
"Nah, we are going to bust some Ho's." she said.
So we did.
The whole thing was boring as all hell. It entailed driving around slowly and basically scaring the Johns away. I would hardly call it a productive use of either mine or Seaborne's time but we did it anyway and I refrained from complaining.
The first thing of note happened when Seaborne heard yelling as we drove under the overpass. Someone was assaulting a woman. I bolted out of the door not even bothering to stop the car I was driving.
I have to say I did move at a good pace considering my training officer only caught up when the guy was in cuff on the ground and I was helping the woman up.
"Are you ok ma'am" I asked the woman the man attacked.
She didn't have the time to answer before the loud engine noise drowns everything around.
The two door 1940's looking convertible with missing doors broken head lights and no forward bumper screech to a stop. Out of it CJ jumped out shovel in hand.
The moment he saw me he froze like a dear in the headlight.
"Are you fucking kidding me!?!" I yelled out in his direction. "You are pimping now?!?"
"Uhm… no." he said holding the shovel protectively in front of him.
"I'm going to whoop your sorry ass for that!!!" I yelled out, feeling strangely protective of my current sex.
I sprinted forward aiming for a flying tackle. CJ had as much presence of mind to drop the shovel and turn to escape before I landed on his back. We both feel to the ground.
Remembering the last time I engaged CJ in the horizontal, I rolled away before he could kick me in the face again. He got to his feet about the same time as I did. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for me the nightstick was already in my hand.
If I know my history and I really don't. What happened next could be described as some Rodney King shit.
Seaborne took pity on the boy by pulling me off of him after something like five minutes ass whooping.
"If I every catch you pimping again…" I thought about my words for a moment. The was one legitimate mission the player needed to do later down the line. "For no good reason I will fucking sell you to a sex dungeon!"
I wondered if I could actually follow through on the threat. I would had to look that up. Considering the world I currently lived in it had to be possible.
"And you!" I span around and pointed my finger at the prostitute. Well alleged prostitute, but she did had the ho's uniform on so it was very likely.
"Get a fucking job!" she didn't say anything at that.
I walked up to the John that just moments earlier was beating the poor, lazy woman.
"You need to rub one out more and not go picking up whores. If I ever see you again doing this shit I will cut off your balls and saw them to your forehead!!!"
"Well there is a lot of hate in you today." Seaborne observe ,quite accurately, I had to admit.
I wondered for a moment.
"Hey Seaborne, you want to do a sting op?"
"What? How?"
I pointed at the pimp mobile CJ drove here.
"This car has a car phone." I begun explaining my plan or at the very least a beginning of one. "Ho's call in and the pimp inside gives them a ride and then picks them up. You just drive some distance behind me and arrest both the John and the Whore. You wanna try it?"
"I don't know…" she said not convinced. "You think it would work?"
"It's that or arresting and booking this three stooges right here." I pointed to CJ the prostitute and her disgruntled client.
Seaborne took one look at the group before giving me a nod.
I looked down on CJ ,that I just beaten, moaning on the ground. He had green sweat shirt and sweat pants on.
"I'm taking your treads you pimping piece of shit!"
After robbing CJ of his clothes I got in the car and waited for the call. I did not need to wait long.
I remember the pimping missions from back in the game, mostly because they were tedious and the reward for the full completion was not that great. If you did the whole session the prostitutes were giving you money and not the other way around every time you used their services. That reward sucked. Paramedic missions gave you unlimited sprint time and the fire truck missions made you fire proof. Far more useful.
Thinking about it made me realize I need to do some vigilante missions myself. I did some taxi missions but I lost count half way through it. Plus I didn't do those for the reward at the completion. I didn't need the taxis to have Nitro boost. I just wanted the cash to bet on the ponies in inside betting track.
Doing it never seemed to be worth my time. It was only because of CJ I even remember it.
Now with CJ stuff on I drove to the closest paint and spray to bring the car that turned out to be called Broadway in to safe driving condition. I waited for the car phone to start ringing and got to the place to pick the first girl from.
The person I picked up looked of the barely legal age. The 'treat me good and you will get a percentage' line she feed me made me feel a little dirty. Still I soldier on this after all it was my own harebrained idea.
As I dropped her off I wonder how would Seaborne, alone, handle the arrests. She was confident when I last spoke to her, seemed competent over all if a bit lazy. The phone rang again I was on my way to the next location. This prostitute looked older that the first one, still younger then me. I dropped her off at her John and drove to where I left Seaborne. She had two people in the back of the car. A guy and the first girl.
"Saskia we got our arrests. Got them red handed." I checked Seaborne's uniform of any new stains on it. She didn't get the subtle joke.
"Too bad the second girl and John will get away." Remarked the older woman. "There is no more room in the back."
I looked at the two people currently sitting in the back.
"They will fit. I will stuff them back there with a broom handle if I have too." I said and took off the stolen clothes revealing the uniform underneath. The drive was a short one. Both me and my training officer ran up the stair and busted down the door. I found it fortunate that both of them were in the process of getting dress after the deed.
I cuffed the guy who looked vaguely familiar for some reason and Seaborne read them their right.
"Officers please there was a terrible misunderstanding." Said the guy in a smooth tone. I ignored him.
"My name is Graham Windlay, I work in the city hall. We don't need the hustle." He continued as if nothing was wrong.
"Like saying you work in the city hall wound endear you to me any." I said as I pushed to cuffed guy in front of me. "Last time I rubbed elbows with you lot I got your buddies grabby palms all over me."
"Saskia Jefferson?" He asked coming to a stop.
"The one and likely not only." I said and gave him a push so he would keep moving.
"Miss Jefferson, you have some notoriety in the circles I travel, I could make it so that your medal will arrive quicker if you would over look this minor transgression." She was oily smooth I give him that, "Otherwise it may be quite difficult to approve of it."
"I'm getting a medal." I put an expression of fake joy on my face. "Oh I'm not getting a medal."
I finished with them look of mock despair.
"Easy come easy go." I said and gave him a generous shove. He would have fallen down the stairs if my hand on his cuff didn't secure him. He just sort of stumbled a bit.
"Miss Jefferson, we can work this out." He dropped all pretence of his smoothness. "You don't want to make me your enemy!" he added with a bit of heat behind his words.
"Perhaps a monetary compensation is in order?" and he was back to smooth.
"How much of a compensation." Asked Seaborne behind me perking up.
The man was about to speak, I twisted his wrist so he would stop talking.
"Shut up perp." I said and with my free had reach in my pocket. I fished out a crisp yen grand bill and pushed it in Seaborne's hand.
"There you are compensated." I said with a roll of my eyes. The older police officer gaped at me like a fish.
"Listen here little man. You cannot buy me you cannot threaten me." I hissed at him twisting his wrist a little. "I will be doing this job to the best of my abilities, I will not be bribed or intimidated. This is the only thing in this world that makes sense to me and the only thing that keeps me sane. So you will not mess it up! Are we clear?"
"We are clear." He gulped before saying it.
I pushed him outside of the building. Opening the car door I pulled out the first prostitute we, or more precisely my training officer arrested. This Graham Windlay fellow took her place.
"Listen girl, you want to go to jail or do you want to go home?" I asked the surprised prostitute.
"Um what?" she asked.
"It's a simple question." I said looking her in the eyes.
"Saskia, what are you doing?" asked Seaborne.
"Fixing out cargo capacity problem." I said and turned back to the first prostitute. "So what do you want jail or home."
"Home?" she said very cautiously. She leaned back a little saying that.
"Ok, home," I said and turned to the second one currently held by Seaborne. "Same question you want to go to jail or do you want to go home?"
"I want to go home." Said the second prostitute without hesitation.
"You are in luck. I'm feeling generous today." I span the girl in front of me around and unlocked the cuffs she had one. "Both of you fuck off for now, just remember who let you go and be sure to someday return the favour in some way."
Seaborne fallowed my example and uncuffed the second girl.
Neither of the members of so called world oldest profession had any inclination to hang around anymore. It made me smirk. People running in high heels never stopped being funny.
"You think we ever get any good tips from either of them?" My lady training officer asked.
"How should I know?" I said and got in the car. "At any rate we now only need to book two people instead of four. I call it a job well done."
I said it nonchalantly.
But in the back of my head I wondered what sort of problems would arresting a government official could bring on my head down the line. If anything, considering the world I was in, it would be fun and interesting at the same time.
Maybe I had a death wish or something. Maybe the stupid of this world started rotting my brain away.
I expected yelling but everybody seemed to take my extended absence in a stride. Reason for it was reviled to me a little time later. As it turns out the Paramedics that patched me up filed that my injuries necessitated a four day sick leave. So I was covered in that area. My training officer for today was the fat lady Fish something. Good for me, working with her was far less stressful that my usual outings.
We took our guns from the lock up then went to the motor pool.I tried to ignore her looking at me funny the whole time.
"What!" I finally asked after something like fifteen minutes.
"The hell happened to your hair?" she asked.
I looked at her and read the name tag on her uniform. It read 'Seaborne' and not 'fish something' at least I was in the same ball park with my recollection.
"I had a crazy night in Ve…" I stopped myself, before saying Vegas. In this world no such place existed. "Las Venturas."
"Do tell." She said and waited. I guessed it wasn't used as a figure of speech.
"I actually don't remember any of it. Woke up in a hotel room with the rainbow Mo-hawk already on my head." I said looking ahead. I was driving and needed my eyes on the road.
"Woke up alone?" She asked.
"No, there was a buck tooth redneck with me."
"Hehehe."
"He said nothing happened and that he behaved like a perfect gentleman."
"And you believed him?" The was a patronizing note in her voice.
I thought about it for a moment. Then decided the treading that road would only welcome madness. So I forced myself to think about something else.
"So what do we have on the menu for today?" I asked changing the subject. "It's kind of the wrong time of the day to go "fag hunting" " I actually made bunny ear air quotes saying that. I immediately felt dirty for the gesture.
"Nah, we are going to bust some Ho's." she said.
So we did.
The whole thing was boring as all hell. It entailed driving around slowly and basically scaring the Johns away. I would hardly call it a productive use of either mine or Seaborne's time but we did it anyway and I refrained from complaining.
The first thing of note happened when Seaborne heard yelling as we drove under the overpass. Someone was assaulting a woman. I bolted out of the door not even bothering to stop the car I was driving.
I have to say I did move at a good pace considering my training officer only caught up when the guy was in cuff on the ground and I was helping the woman up.
"Are you ok ma'am" I asked the woman the man attacked.
She didn't have the time to answer before the loud engine noise drowns everything around.
The two door 1940's looking convertible with missing doors broken head lights and no forward bumper screech to a stop. Out of it CJ jumped out shovel in hand.
The moment he saw me he froze like a dear in the headlight.
"Are you fucking kidding me!?!" I yelled out in his direction. "You are pimping now?!?"
"Uhm… no." he said holding the shovel protectively in front of him.
"I'm going to whoop your sorry ass for that!!!" I yelled out, feeling strangely protective of my current sex.
I sprinted forward aiming for a flying tackle. CJ had as much presence of mind to drop the shovel and turn to escape before I landed on his back. We both feel to the ground.
Remembering the last time I engaged CJ in the horizontal, I rolled away before he could kick me in the face again. He got to his feet about the same time as I did. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for me the nightstick was already in my hand.
If I know my history and I really don't. What happened next could be described as some Rodney King shit.
Seaborne took pity on the boy by pulling me off of him after something like five minutes ass whooping.
"If I every catch you pimping again…" I thought about my words for a moment. The was one legitimate mission the player needed to do later down the line. "For no good reason I will fucking sell you to a sex dungeon!"
I wondered if I could actually follow through on the threat. I would had to look that up. Considering the world I currently lived in it had to be possible.
"And you!" I span around and pointed my finger at the prostitute. Well alleged prostitute, but she did had the ho's uniform on so it was very likely.
"Get a fucking job!" she didn't say anything at that.
I walked up to the John that just moments earlier was beating the poor, lazy woman.
"You need to rub one out more and not go picking up whores. If I ever see you again doing this shit I will cut off your balls and saw them to your forehead!!!"
"Well there is a lot of hate in you today." Seaborne observe ,quite accurately, I had to admit.
I wondered for a moment.
"Hey Seaborne, you want to do a sting op?"
"What? How?"
I pointed at the pimp mobile CJ drove here.
"This car has a car phone." I begun explaining my plan or at the very least a beginning of one. "Ho's call in and the pimp inside gives them a ride and then picks them up. You just drive some distance behind me and arrest both the John and the Whore. You wanna try it?"
"I don't know…" she said not convinced. "You think it would work?"
"It's that or arresting and booking this three stooges right here." I pointed to CJ the prostitute and her disgruntled client.
Seaborne took one look at the group before giving me a nod.
I looked down on CJ ,that I just beaten, moaning on the ground. He had green sweat shirt and sweat pants on.
"I'm taking your treads you pimping piece of shit!"
After robbing CJ of his clothes I got in the car and waited for the call. I did not need to wait long.
I remember the pimping missions from back in the game, mostly because they were tedious and the reward for the full completion was not that great. If you did the whole session the prostitutes were giving you money and not the other way around every time you used their services. That reward sucked. Paramedic missions gave you unlimited sprint time and the fire truck missions made you fire proof. Far more useful.
Thinking about it made me realize I need to do some vigilante missions myself. I did some taxi missions but I lost count half way through it. Plus I didn't do those for the reward at the completion. I didn't need the taxis to have Nitro boost. I just wanted the cash to bet on the ponies in inside betting track.
Doing it never seemed to be worth my time. It was only because of CJ I even remember it.
Now with CJ stuff on I drove to the closest paint and spray to bring the car that turned out to be called Broadway in to safe driving condition. I waited for the car phone to start ringing and got to the place to pick the first girl from.
The person I picked up looked of the barely legal age. The 'treat me good and you will get a percentage' line she feed me made me feel a little dirty. Still I soldier on this after all it was my own harebrained idea.
As I dropped her off I wonder how would Seaborne, alone, handle the arrests. She was confident when I last spoke to her, seemed competent over all if a bit lazy. The phone rang again I was on my way to the next location. This prostitute looked older that the first one, still younger then me. I dropped her off at her John and drove to where I left Seaborne. She had two people in the back of the car. A guy and the first girl.
"Saskia we got our arrests. Got them red handed." I checked Seaborne's uniform of any new stains on it. She didn't get the subtle joke.
"Too bad the second girl and John will get away." Remarked the older woman. "There is no more room in the back."
I looked at the two people currently sitting in the back.
"They will fit. I will stuff them back there with a broom handle if I have too." I said and took off the stolen clothes revealing the uniform underneath. The drive was a short one. Both me and my training officer ran up the stair and busted down the door. I found it fortunate that both of them were in the process of getting dress after the deed.
I cuffed the guy who looked vaguely familiar for some reason and Seaborne read them their right.
"Officers please there was a terrible misunderstanding." Said the guy in a smooth tone. I ignored him.
"My name is Graham Windlay, I work in the city hall. We don't need the hustle." He continued as if nothing was wrong.
"Like saying you work in the city hall wound endear you to me any." I said as I pushed to cuffed guy in front of me. "Last time I rubbed elbows with you lot I got your buddies grabby palms all over me."
"Saskia Jefferson?" He asked coming to a stop.
"The one and likely not only." I said and gave him a push so he would keep moving.
"Miss Jefferson, you have some notoriety in the circles I travel, I could make it so that your medal will arrive quicker if you would over look this minor transgression." She was oily smooth I give him that, "Otherwise it may be quite difficult to approve of it."
"I'm getting a medal." I put an expression of fake joy on my face. "Oh I'm not getting a medal."
I finished with them look of mock despair.
"Easy come easy go." I said and gave him a generous shove. He would have fallen down the stairs if my hand on his cuff didn't secure him. He just sort of stumbled a bit.
"Miss Jefferson, we can work this out." He dropped all pretence of his smoothness. "You don't want to make me your enemy!" he added with a bit of heat behind his words.
"Perhaps a monetary compensation is in order?" and he was back to smooth.
"How much of a compensation." Asked Seaborne behind me perking up.
The man was about to speak, I twisted his wrist so he would stop talking.
"Shut up perp." I said and with my free had reach in my pocket. I fished out a crisp yen grand bill and pushed it in Seaborne's hand.
"There you are compensated." I said with a roll of my eyes. The older police officer gaped at me like a fish.
"Listen here little man. You cannot buy me you cannot threaten me." I hissed at him twisting his wrist a little. "I will be doing this job to the best of my abilities, I will not be bribed or intimidated. This is the only thing in this world that makes sense to me and the only thing that keeps me sane. So you will not mess it up! Are we clear?"
"We are clear." He gulped before saying it.
I pushed him outside of the building. Opening the car door I pulled out the first prostitute we, or more precisely my training officer arrested. This Graham Windlay fellow took her place.
"Listen girl, you want to go to jail or do you want to go home?" I asked the surprised prostitute.
"Um what?" she asked.
"It's a simple question." I said looking her in the eyes.
"Saskia, what are you doing?" asked Seaborne.
"Fixing out cargo capacity problem." I said and turned back to the first prostitute. "So what do you want jail or home."
"Home?" she said very cautiously. She leaned back a little saying that.
"Ok, home," I said and turned to the second one currently held by Seaborne. "Same question you want to go to jail or do you want to go home?"
"I want to go home." Said the second prostitute without hesitation.
"You are in luck. I'm feeling generous today." I span the girl in front of me around and unlocked the cuffs she had one. "Both of you fuck off for now, just remember who let you go and be sure to someday return the favour in some way."
Seaborne fallowed my example and uncuffed the second girl.
Neither of the members of so called world oldest profession had any inclination to hang around anymore. It made me smirk. People running in high heels never stopped being funny.
"You think we ever get any good tips from either of them?" My lady training officer asked.
"How should I know?" I said and got in the car. "At any rate we now only need to book two people instead of four. I call it a job well done."
I said it nonchalantly.
But in the back of my head I wondered what sort of problems would arresting a government official could bring on my head down the line. If anything, considering the world I was in, it would be fun and interesting at the same time.
Maybe I had a death wish or something. Maybe the stupid of this world started rotting my brain away.
Last edited:
- Location
- United States
Another great update, though I don't have much to say about it. Keep up the great work!
33
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
33
My tongue is sticking out of the corner of my lips as I try to make my script readable.
Its not easy to write an official looking document on the back of a arrest report form.
The only desk in the basement where the lock up is located is in use so I have to use the wall to write on.
This body is even worst at this as my real one was. I was dyslectic, my hand writing was never pretty. This woman's writing could only be described as chicken scratchings.
"Hey Officer Seaborne, what is your first name?" I yell at my training officer. She is further down the hallway filling up the arrest report for the two perps we arrested.
"Why do you need it?"
"Paper work. I'm writing a receipt for the ten grand I just gave you!" I yell back and return to my chicken scratches.
Something short fast black and puffy smacks in to me. I fall to the ground with a short female uniform shape sitting on my chest.
"MmmMMm" I say, Seaborne's hand is on my mouth.
"The fuck are you doing?!?" hissed the officer just inches from my face.
"MmmMmMMmn" I try to explain she did not let go of my mouth.
"What receipt! You didn't gave me any money!" She says forcefully.
"MmmMMmm" I roll my eyes at her.
"Ok I will let you go but be quiet."
"Hey Rookie!" Richards walks throught the door takes one look at me and Seaborne's form straddling mine. Goes rigid from head to toes and turns around on the spot.
"I seen nothing." he says and walks away closing the door behind him.
I don't know why he bothered. The lock up desk guy is looking at us intently the whole time.
"I just written a receipt for you winning 10000$ in..."
"Auu" I say as Seaborne's knee finds its way to my ribs.
"What are you trying to pin on me?" it was a forceful whisper. "Are those drug money? Are you working for the internal affairs?"
"Oh fuck you Seaborne!" I shoot back. "Like I would ever work for that accountant Bosh. "He is on my ass for some reason and will like nothing better that to find irregularities in my finances. That moneyMMMmmmMMm"
I would prefer if Seaborne stopped trying to gag me every couple of seconds.
"You need help?" asks the desk guy, he got around the desk and is looking at us with a bemused expression.
"Piss off Mike this does not concern you!" Seaborne snaps in his direction while I crank my neck too make eye contact with the guy, whose name is Mike apparently. I nod energetically in his direction.
It must had looked very funny because he laughs out loud at that.
He walks up to us and pulls Seaborne off of me deaf to the smaller woman's protests.
"Thanks Mike," I say getting up. "I'm Saskia by the way."
"Hi."He said smiling a little. Seaborne is glaring daggers at both of us. Considering he is behind her and I in front I fear she will go cross-eyed from that. "What is this about?"
"I gave her some money."
"No she didn't!!!" the fat lady yells.
"Now I'm trying to write a receipt for that because I don't want the IRS on either mine or her ass."I explain "Undocumented income is frown upon, I think."
Now she only glares at me.
"How much?" asks Mike.
"ten grand" Mike's eyes go wide hearing the sum.
There is a growl coming form my current training officer throat.
"What for?"
"Mind your own business!!!" Snaps Seaborne at Mike.
"Well with that I think it is not for me to tell." I say.
Mike lets Seaborne go.
"So what is your first name?" I smile at her.
"Christi." She says with a hint of defeat in her voice.
I put it down on the receipt in two places and give it to her. "Put down your John Hancock, here and here."
Mike was rubbernecking as Christi put down her signature.
"Don't you need a witness?"
"Do we?" I asked. It may be better if we did need a third signature on the piece of paper to make it more official or something.
"We do!" Christi snapped at the both of us.
"Will you do it?" I asked Mike.
"What's in it for me?" He asks
"I'll give you 20 bucks." I answer.
"Deal!"
--------
My shift was over by that point. A quick stop to Herr Flick office to deliver my half of the receipt, he really didn't like it, and I was off.
I didn't have a change of clothes at the HQ. I had to walk home in my uniform. Not like it was a problem for something like one fifth of a way. The problem was the remaining four fifths. Willow Field was gang land. A gang land I shot the shit out of couple of days back. It was Ballas hood for the majority of the way.
"You need a lift?" someone shouted.
I looked around and notice officer Seaborne standing by what I guessed was her car. It hit me that this may be the first time ever I'll had the opportunity to drive in a car that was actually legally owned.
My personal mode of transportation consisted of stolen BMX stolen Taxi and a stolen NRG-500. Johnny drove around in community burglar van, that one time CJ gave me and Bear a lift the car he used was like ninety nine point nine percent stolen. Maybe there were other ligally owned vehicles I drove in befor but my mind draws a blank trying to remember. Government vehicles do not count.
"Yeah sure!" I said with a smile.
"Get in." Seaborne waved me over.
Saying that her car was not much to look at would be correct in the figurative sense but it would be a outright lie in the literal.
It was an achievement of ghetto engineering. There were no two body pieces that were the same color. The passenger seat was a lawn chair secured to the floor with wire. A piece of cardboard acted as a back window. Considering its total lack of transparency it didn't do a good job of it. The stick shift leaver was an actual stick. Yes, a tree branch stuck out of the transmission. Oh and there was a large hole in the floor. You get the picture.
"Cool car." I lied smoothly.
"No one will steal it." Shrugged Christi.
I could argue the fact. I knew a bunch of people that would but I held my peace.
"Were are you headed?" the corpulent woman asked as she started the car.
"Ganton."
"You live there?" Snorted the woman. "Why? Did the landfill had no vacancies?"
"I don't know, did not actually look. Landfill is beyond my pay grade anyway."
"I don't really get you, Jefferson."
"I don't get me either."
"Joke all you want, but what is your deal?"
"You know, the moment I figure that one out I will let you know."
Christi didn't say anything after that.
I looked out the window as we drove. Four guys in purple recognized me and gave me one of those upward nods that people who I did not know by name usually gave me. It was still strange to receive recognition from people.
Strange but not unwelcome. I smiled and waved back.
Seaborne gave me a knowing look. I briefly wondered what was it that she though that she knew.
The car drove over the train crossing. My house was in view.
"May I invite you for some tea?" I asked my driver.
The car stopped. The woman was giving me a long hard look.
"Why?" she asked after a moment.
"Because I don't have any coffee."
"What?"
"The choice of beverages in my home is limited to tea."
"You do know I'm not in to girls?"
"Yeah you said you like tall fat guys." I said because she did say just that when we went on the 'fag hunt' few days back.
"So just tea? No funny ass grab-by business?"
"If that is a requirement for you having tea with me then I withdraw my offer." I said with a smile and stepped out of the car.
"That is not what I meant." Shouted Seaborne from behind me. "Wait a moment I'm coming."
And wait I did.
My hole in the wall apartment was on the second floor. Christi fallowed behind me.
She walked as close to the middle of the hall way as she could. The look on her face was one of disgust as she looked around. I didn't blame her. This apartment building really was a dive.
"After you." I said and reached out to turn the knob on my front door.
I froze when the door did not open.
"What the fuck?" I said loudly in surprise and tried again. I never locked my doors. Partly because there was no lock on them.
There was now a lock on my door. Why???
"Forgot the keys?" Asked Seaborne.
"What the fuck!?!" I ask even more surprised. There were voices coming from inside of my apartment.
"Hey you fucks!" I yelled, I was getting angry. "Open up!!!"
"LSPD Open Up!" I banged on the door. Behind me Seaborne reached for her purse.
The door opened and there stood Jackie Brown. Seeing her surprised me.
Not because it was Jackie but because she was covered in white spots. There was a folded piece of news paper on the top of her head. A paint brush in hand.
"Hi Saskia." She said. I noticed she was far less energetic than usual. "You're early!"
"No I'm not! I live here! Shift over I come here!" I half shouted.
I looked behind her and noticed that she was in the process of painting my walls. Newspapers everywhere. Johnny and Big Bear sat behind a table and were playing checkers. Both waved at me and went back to their game.
"Ok." I tried to calm myself. "Explain."
"Well the boys wanted to do something nice for you. So they went and got you a lock for your door and a bucket of paint. We all knew you would never do it yourself."
My eyes narrowed.
"Oh you know me so well." I hissed.
"We all love you Lady Saskia but you are a fucking slob." Johnny said.
"Damn straight." Big Bear put in his two cents and took two of Johnny's pieces of the board.
"Ignore them." Jackie said to me.
"I usually do," I said shooting the two a dirty look over Jackie's shoulder.
"Where are my manners." Jackie said and reached out to Seaborne in greeting. "Jackie, Jackie Brown."
I caught her wrist.
"Paint." I said.
Jackie's hands were covered in it.
"Sorry for that. This is OG J-dub. This is Big Bear and this is Jackie. Everybody this is officer Seaborne." I introduced my work colleague to the people that shouldn't be in my apartment.
"Johnny, go and make tea." I ordered. He got up reluctantly. He acted like I just told him to do a twenty mile march. "Big Bear what gives?"
"We put a lock on your door." He said with a shrug.
"Yeah and then just sat there and watched as I painted the place!"
"You really do need a lock." It was Bear's turn to ignore Jackie. "Anybody could just walk in and do whatever they want."
"Like the three of you did?" I hissed at him and he just gave me a satisfied look.
Yeah, I kind of walked right in to that one.
My tongue is sticking out of the corner of my lips as I try to make my script readable.
Its not easy to write an official looking document on the back of a arrest report form.
The only desk in the basement where the lock up is located is in use so I have to use the wall to write on.
This body is even worst at this as my real one was. I was dyslectic, my hand writing was never pretty. This woman's writing could only be described as chicken scratchings.
"Hey Officer Seaborne, what is your first name?" I yell at my training officer. She is further down the hallway filling up the arrest report for the two perps we arrested.
"Why do you need it?"
"Paper work. I'm writing a receipt for the ten grand I just gave you!" I yell back and return to my chicken scratches.
Something short fast black and puffy smacks in to me. I fall to the ground with a short female uniform shape sitting on my chest.
"MmmMMm" I say, Seaborne's hand is on my mouth.
"The fuck are you doing?!?" hissed the officer just inches from my face.
"MmmMmMMmn" I try to explain she did not let go of my mouth.
"What receipt! You didn't gave me any money!" She says forcefully.
"MmmMMmm" I roll my eyes at her.
"Ok I will let you go but be quiet."
"Hey Rookie!" Richards walks throught the door takes one look at me and Seaborne's form straddling mine. Goes rigid from head to toes and turns around on the spot.
"I seen nothing." he says and walks away closing the door behind him.
I don't know why he bothered. The lock up desk guy is looking at us intently the whole time.
"I just written a receipt for you winning 10000$ in..."
"Auu" I say as Seaborne's knee finds its way to my ribs.
"What are you trying to pin on me?" it was a forceful whisper. "Are those drug money? Are you working for the internal affairs?"
"Oh fuck you Seaborne!" I shoot back. "Like I would ever work for that accountant Bosh. "He is on my ass for some reason and will like nothing better that to find irregularities in my finances. That moneyMMMmmmMMm"
I would prefer if Seaborne stopped trying to gag me every couple of seconds.
"You need help?" asks the desk guy, he got around the desk and is looking at us with a bemused expression.
"Piss off Mike this does not concern you!" Seaborne snaps in his direction while I crank my neck too make eye contact with the guy, whose name is Mike apparently. I nod energetically in his direction.
It must had looked very funny because he laughs out loud at that.
He walks up to us and pulls Seaborne off of me deaf to the smaller woman's protests.
"Thanks Mike," I say getting up. "I'm Saskia by the way."
"Hi."He said smiling a little. Seaborne is glaring daggers at both of us. Considering he is behind her and I in front I fear she will go cross-eyed from that. "What is this about?"
"I gave her some money."
"No she didn't!!!" the fat lady yells.
"Now I'm trying to write a receipt for that because I don't want the IRS on either mine or her ass."I explain "Undocumented income is frown upon, I think."
Now she only glares at me.
"How much?" asks Mike.
"ten grand" Mike's eyes go wide hearing the sum.
There is a growl coming form my current training officer throat.
"What for?"
"Mind your own business!!!" Snaps Seaborne at Mike.
"Well with that I think it is not for me to tell." I say.
Mike lets Seaborne go.
"So what is your first name?" I smile at her.
"Christi." She says with a hint of defeat in her voice.
I put it down on the receipt in two places and give it to her. "Put down your John Hancock, here and here."
Mike was rubbernecking as Christi put down her signature.
"Don't you need a witness?"
"Do we?" I asked. It may be better if we did need a third signature on the piece of paper to make it more official or something.
"We do!" Christi snapped at the both of us.
"Will you do it?" I asked Mike.
"What's in it for me?" He asks
"I'll give you 20 bucks." I answer.
"Deal!"
--------
My shift was over by that point. A quick stop to Herr Flick office to deliver my half of the receipt, he really didn't like it, and I was off.
I didn't have a change of clothes at the HQ. I had to walk home in my uniform. Not like it was a problem for something like one fifth of a way. The problem was the remaining four fifths. Willow Field was gang land. A gang land I shot the shit out of couple of days back. It was Ballas hood for the majority of the way.
"You need a lift?" someone shouted.
I looked around and notice officer Seaborne standing by what I guessed was her car. It hit me that this may be the first time ever I'll had the opportunity to drive in a car that was actually legally owned.
My personal mode of transportation consisted of stolen BMX stolen Taxi and a stolen NRG-500. Johnny drove around in community burglar van, that one time CJ gave me and Bear a lift the car he used was like ninety nine point nine percent stolen. Maybe there were other ligally owned vehicles I drove in befor but my mind draws a blank trying to remember. Government vehicles do not count.
"Yeah sure!" I said with a smile.
"Get in." Seaborne waved me over.
Saying that her car was not much to look at would be correct in the figurative sense but it would be a outright lie in the literal.
It was an achievement of ghetto engineering. There were no two body pieces that were the same color. The passenger seat was a lawn chair secured to the floor with wire. A piece of cardboard acted as a back window. Considering its total lack of transparency it didn't do a good job of it. The stick shift leaver was an actual stick. Yes, a tree branch stuck out of the transmission. Oh and there was a large hole in the floor. You get the picture.
"Cool car." I lied smoothly.
"No one will steal it." Shrugged Christi.
I could argue the fact. I knew a bunch of people that would but I held my peace.
"Were are you headed?" the corpulent woman asked as she started the car.
"Ganton."
"You live there?" Snorted the woman. "Why? Did the landfill had no vacancies?"
"I don't know, did not actually look. Landfill is beyond my pay grade anyway."
"I don't really get you, Jefferson."
"I don't get me either."
"Joke all you want, but what is your deal?"
"You know, the moment I figure that one out I will let you know."
Christi didn't say anything after that.
I looked out the window as we drove. Four guys in purple recognized me and gave me one of those upward nods that people who I did not know by name usually gave me. It was still strange to receive recognition from people.
Strange but not unwelcome. I smiled and waved back.
Seaborne gave me a knowing look. I briefly wondered what was it that she though that she knew.
The car drove over the train crossing. My house was in view.
"May I invite you for some tea?" I asked my driver.
The car stopped. The woman was giving me a long hard look.
"Why?" she asked after a moment.
"Because I don't have any coffee."
"What?"
"The choice of beverages in my home is limited to tea."
"You do know I'm not in to girls?"
"Yeah you said you like tall fat guys." I said because she did say just that when we went on the 'fag hunt' few days back.
"So just tea? No funny ass grab-by business?"
"If that is a requirement for you having tea with me then I withdraw my offer." I said with a smile and stepped out of the car.
"That is not what I meant." Shouted Seaborne from behind me. "Wait a moment I'm coming."
And wait I did.
My hole in the wall apartment was on the second floor. Christi fallowed behind me.
She walked as close to the middle of the hall way as she could. The look on her face was one of disgust as she looked around. I didn't blame her. This apartment building really was a dive.
"After you." I said and reached out to turn the knob on my front door.
I froze when the door did not open.
"What the fuck?" I said loudly in surprise and tried again. I never locked my doors. Partly because there was no lock on them.
There was now a lock on my door. Why???
"Forgot the keys?" Asked Seaborne.
"What the fuck!?!" I ask even more surprised. There were voices coming from inside of my apartment.
"Hey you fucks!" I yelled, I was getting angry. "Open up!!!"
"LSPD Open Up!" I banged on the door. Behind me Seaborne reached for her purse.
The door opened and there stood Jackie Brown. Seeing her surprised me.
Not because it was Jackie but because she was covered in white spots. There was a folded piece of news paper on the top of her head. A paint brush in hand.
"Hi Saskia." She said. I noticed she was far less energetic than usual. "You're early!"
"No I'm not! I live here! Shift over I come here!" I half shouted.
I looked behind her and noticed that she was in the process of painting my walls. Newspapers everywhere. Johnny and Big Bear sat behind a table and were playing checkers. Both waved at me and went back to their game.
"Ok." I tried to calm myself. "Explain."
"Well the boys wanted to do something nice for you. So they went and got you a lock for your door and a bucket of paint. We all knew you would never do it yourself."
My eyes narrowed.
"Oh you know me so well." I hissed.
"We all love you Lady Saskia but you are a fucking slob." Johnny said.
"Damn straight." Big Bear put in his two cents and took two of Johnny's pieces of the board.
"Ignore them." Jackie said to me.
"I usually do," I said shooting the two a dirty look over Jackie's shoulder.
"Where are my manners." Jackie said and reached out to Seaborne in greeting. "Jackie, Jackie Brown."
I caught her wrist.
"Paint." I said.
Jackie's hands were covered in it.
"Sorry for that. This is OG J-dub. This is Big Bear and this is Jackie. Everybody this is officer Seaborne." I introduced my work colleague to the people that shouldn't be in my apartment.
"Johnny, go and make tea." I ordered. He got up reluctantly. He acted like I just told him to do a twenty mile march. "Big Bear what gives?"
"We put a lock on your door." He said with a shrug.
"Yeah and then just sat there and watched as I painted the place!"
"You really do need a lock." It was Bear's turn to ignore Jackie. "Anybody could just walk in and do whatever they want."
"Like the three of you did?" I hissed at him and he just gave me a satisfied look.
Yeah, I kind of walked right in to that one.
How to get arrested
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
"Hello Children," I said and giggled at the joke only I was privy to.
Something like a thousand "Hellos" answered mine.
Oh, I have been gone awhile. You need some context to where I am, what I am doing and why.
Where is simple; I'm at school. What; is addressing the assembled children, why...
LSPD is doing and has been doing a community outreach program for quite some time. Community outreach is as dull and as uninteresting as the name implies. Cops go to a school in a uniform and talk to the kids there about their work. This is not something unique in any way. I had a cop visit my school when I was in 2nd grade.
The interesting part of this story is why I, off all people, got to do this.
Turns out that me conversing with the local ankle bitters got me on some teacher's radar. I was asked to do this by the principle of a local school.
"Ok! Let's get right to it." I said and smiled. The kind-looking lady that was the principle, smiled standing next to me.
"The topic of today's conversation is: How to get arrested." That made the lady by my side stare at me like I just have grown a second head.
"You kids know there is a very high chance that you will get arrested someday. It may not even be your fault. You may look like someone the police is looking for, you may be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or you just have done something stupid and you deserve it. That part doesn't matter. How you act at that moment does."
I took a deep breath.
"First of all never run!" I said,"If a Police officer tells you to freeze you stop moving." I looked at the young faces. They were all listening to me.
"Running only makes the Police chase you. I know some of you think you can outrun a cop. Some of you are very good runners. But even if you outrun the first cop he has a radio and will call for help. No one can outrun a radio wave. Radio moves at three hundred thousand yards every second."
"A cop tells you to freeze, you do just that."
"The second thing you do is say 'what seems to be the problem' officer. They will tell you just what the problem is. Now comes the second important thing. No matter how stupid the thing the police officer said you do not argue. The only words that should come out of your mouths are "Yes sir" and "No sir." Even if it is a lady police officer "sir" still works unless she corrects you."
"If a Police officer asks you a specific question you answer calmly and clearly. If you don't know you don't know. Being arrested is not school it is ok not to know something."
"Another important part is the Officer may want to give you a ticket. You take the ticket. You will not argue your way out of it. If you do not agree with the reason why you got a ticket you can go to court and appeal it. Tickets get appealed all the time. Nine times out of ten, if someone appeals a ticket they won already because caps don't want to go to court just like any other normal person." I just made up a statistic who is going to look it up? I'm getting really good at this lying to childer thing. Why should parents get all the fun?
"And here is the most important thing! If the police officer says 'you are under arrest' you turn around cross your hands behind your back and let them cuff you."
"Why am I telling you all this?" I asked. "I'm telling you this because I know The Police is dangerous. They are people just like you. They may be angry they are afraid."
I looked at my audience and chanced a glance at the principle standing next to me. It looked like I will be seeing the inside of the principal office yet again.
"Any questions?"
A bunch of little hands shot up in the air. I looked at my wrist to check the time. I remembered I do not own a watch.
Something like a thousand "Hellos" answered mine.
Oh, I have been gone awhile. You need some context to where I am, what I am doing and why.
Where is simple; I'm at school. What; is addressing the assembled children, why...
LSPD is doing and has been doing a community outreach program for quite some time. Community outreach is as dull and as uninteresting as the name implies. Cops go to a school in a uniform and talk to the kids there about their work. This is not something unique in any way. I had a cop visit my school when I was in 2nd grade.
The interesting part of this story is why I, off all people, got to do this.
Turns out that me conversing with the local ankle bitters got me on some teacher's radar. I was asked to do this by the principle of a local school.
"Ok! Let's get right to it." I said and smiled. The kind-looking lady that was the principle, smiled standing next to me.
"The topic of today's conversation is: How to get arrested." That made the lady by my side stare at me like I just have grown a second head.
"You kids know there is a very high chance that you will get arrested someday. It may not even be your fault. You may look like someone the police is looking for, you may be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or you just have done something stupid and you deserve it. That part doesn't matter. How you act at that moment does."
I took a deep breath.
"First of all never run!" I said,"If a Police officer tells you to freeze you stop moving." I looked at the young faces. They were all listening to me.
"Running only makes the Police chase you. I know some of you think you can outrun a cop. Some of you are very good runners. But even if you outrun the first cop he has a radio and will call for help. No one can outrun a radio wave. Radio moves at three hundred thousand yards every second."
"A cop tells you to freeze, you do just that."
"The second thing you do is say 'what seems to be the problem' officer. They will tell you just what the problem is. Now comes the second important thing. No matter how stupid the thing the police officer said you do not argue. The only words that should come out of your mouths are "Yes sir" and "No sir." Even if it is a lady police officer "sir" still works unless she corrects you."
"If a Police officer asks you a specific question you answer calmly and clearly. If you don't know you don't know. Being arrested is not school it is ok not to know something."
"Another important part is the Officer may want to give you a ticket. You take the ticket. You will not argue your way out of it. If you do not agree with the reason why you got a ticket you can go to court and appeal it. Tickets get appealed all the time. Nine times out of ten, if someone appeals a ticket they won already because caps don't want to go to court just like any other normal person." I just made up a statistic who is going to look it up? I'm getting really good at this lying to childer thing. Why should parents get all the fun?
"And here is the most important thing! If the police officer says 'you are under arrest' you turn around cross your hands behind your back and let them cuff you."
"Why am I telling you all this?" I asked. "I'm telling you this because I know The Police is dangerous. They are people just like you. They may be angry they are afraid."
I looked at my audience and chanced a glance at the principle standing next to me. It looked like I will be seeing the inside of the principal office yet again.
"Any questions?"
A bunch of little hands shot up in the air. I looked at my wrist to check the time. I remembered I do not own a watch.
Last edited:
- Location
- United States
This snippet is in frankly terrible taste, holy shit dude I'd delete it if I were you.
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
No. I will not delete it.
Taste is subjective. What I'm trying to say in it are my personal experiences with being arrested.
The Police is dangerous! Sometimes You cannot avoid getting law enforcement attention. What you can do is mitigate the dangers they pose to you.
- Location
- Cz
Oh hey, you're back. Well, here's to hoping this means this story gets more updates.
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
There is hoping... Unfortunately, the reason I more or less stopped writing sadly did not go away.
World of Warships takes up more of my time then alcoholism ever did...
I could promise I will update... But I know I cannot be trusted in those sorts of things.
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
I understand your point of view, but Marek is right.
I have been arrested three times. I am a Morbidly Obese White Male who tends to wear Business Casual on days off, and Business Formal on my work days.
The first time I was pissed, because I had literally NOTHING to do with the situation besides having, as Marek put it, been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I had a VERY VERY bad time during the ordeal. Bad enough I took it to court for their behavior. I LOST THAT FUCKING CASE BECAUSE FUCK AMERICAN COURTS AND ITS LEGAL SYSTEM!
The next two times I was arrested I was actually at fault. (I blame the alcohol the first time. And the bastard deserved it the second.) Actually having deserved what happened, I was docile and compliant with the Police Officers during the entire ordeal.
A few hours in the station, and I was a free man with a warning the first time.
The second time I spent Three days in lock-up, had a court day set-up, and the 24 dollars and change that I had in my wallet and pockets taken. I went to the Court four weeks later, plead Guilty, and was let go with a warning that it would remain in my records.
It has been just a bit past a half a decade, and it no longer shows up in my background checks.
So in comparison, I was angry and fought with my arresting officer the first time. It cost me 8 Thousand Dollars for the Lawyer, and another $900 for the Court Fees. Plus an entire fucking year of my life. For NOTHING.
The second time I lost about seven hours of my life in a REALLY REALLY Cold cell. It was boring, it was cold, it sucked. But that was it.
The third time cost me less than $25 dollars, three days sharing space with a Male Model (No joke, the guy was beautiful.) who couldn't speak English, and a few other people who apparently had too much fun at a bar. Had three meals a day, that were better than my High School ever served. A Free Shirt, Shorts, Socks, and Underwear. And then I was released. An hour at Court a month later, and that was it.
So, on balance, I have to accept and AGREE with Marek on this matter.
Could his timing have been better? Possibly. But this isn't the place for that kind of conversation anyway.
EDIT:
I got over my own addiction to World of Warships by accidentally burning out my Hard Drive.World of Warships takes up more of my time then alcoholism ever did...
My SSD survived, but all my games were installed in the much larger HD that burned out. So I spent almost two weeks without it, and then refused to download it again to fight off the addiction.
...I almost failed when I was sent an Email telling me that they had Submarines to play with...
Last edited:
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
This is the first time I ever wrote something because of what is now the news...
The timing was not accidental and the chapter would not have existed otherwise.
Last edited:
- Location
- United States
I'm happy to see his having an update, even if it's only a snippet. Hopefully the wrath of the mods won't be brought down upon any Discourse™ that may or may not happen.
34
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
So new developments.
I got a yoyo. Yoyos are great. They make the hurry up and wait routine far less boring than it was.
Back home I would just play with my phone. Here that was not really an option. You can type eighty oh-eight on it exactly once before it gets old. This brick didn't even had a calculator.
Oh yeah.
That is another new development. Tenpenny did come good on his word and got me the cellphone he promised all the way back the first time I was in the hospital. It also revealed to me the man is a cheap bastard. The phone was the size of a brick, an actual brick. I didn't even have it on me. Other people were running around with new fancy smaller phones. I got a 1984 model. That one time I put it in my pants pocket it pulled then down. To the merriment of everyone in the room. I am not getting a purse.
Oh yeah.
I also graduated, I am no longer a trainee, now I am a full-fledged officer of the Los Santos Police Department.
"Yay!" I said after thinking that last part. As bored and unexcited as I could manage.
I turned my attention back to the yoyo. I used to know how to work one. I had one as a kid. Why is this one being so difficult?
As I was dangling a piece of round plastic on the and of a string someone said something next to me. I ignored it, I was so close to getting this stupid thing to work.
"Harumph" someone cleared his throat.
"Yea" I said looking up.
Not gonna lie. The guy was easy on the eyes. His uniform was freshly pressed, his belt buckle and badge shying in the morning sun. A welcoming smile appeared on my lips. Guess my body was back to its old tricks. I didn't fight it this time. Slowly I figured fighting your own hormones is a losing battle.
The guy noticed and give this cocky half-smile in return. It looked good on him.
"Don't worry about a thing." He said with his hands on his hips. "I know it is your first day on the clock. It can be intimidating. Just follow my lead and I get you through it safe and sound. I have been doing this for over a year. I will keep you safe."
With that said he thrown something at me. I caught it without thinking. Looking down at what I discovered were car keys now in my hand the logical part of my brain took over.
What does he think he is.
"How about NO!" I said as obnoxiously as I could manage. "You are driving!"
"What?" he said confused.
"How old are you?"
"Uhm I'm 25"
"How many bullet holes do you have in you?"
"What? none!"
"Me, I am thirty-two years old and nine bullet holes in me." I actually forgot how many bullets hit me but nine was a safe bet. It's not like he will get to check. "That means I have seniority. So stick with me kid and big sister Saskia will not let a single bad man get near you."
"Hey!" He protested. "That's not how that works! I have been in uniform longer I'm the one in charge."
I wanted to smile and say that I like when the man takes charge. That thought only confused me. Instead, I said.
"Ok, let's do it like this." I smiled "Let's arm wrestle for it."
---
Well, I won. It wasn't fucking easy but Qapla'.
When I said it after finally putting his hand all the way down and putting a dent in the hood of our cruiser, he looked at me funny. Guess in GTA world Klingon isn't really a language that exists. Still, the victory is mine, and with it the passenger seat. The guy's name is Adam Smith a fellow Police Officer. He really did look like his Disney movie namesake. Blond broad in the shoulders and as I already mentioned one handsome son of a bitch.
It was a problem. I actually would prefer Seaborne or Richards to be in the car with me. Neither called my body to go all lamprey on any part of theirs. I kept myself in check by looking out the window as we made our patrol.
"Disturbance in West Beach." came from the radio. I snatched the horn before he could.
"This is car 27 we are on it!" Smith mashed the accelerator and turned on the sirens.
---
As both of us got out of the car something that looked and sounded like a bear was moving in the bushes next to an apartment building.
"This is the LSPD Freeze!" Smith ordered. He had a nice commanding voice. I just shrugged its effect off as the thing in the bushes was far more interesting at the moment.
"The fuck you pigs want!" The thing stood up on its hind legs and looked at us with its rage-filled eyes.
"Ma'am Calm Down" Smith ordered. Yes, the bear-looking thing was indeed a lady.
The largest fattest lady I have ever seen.
"How are you still mobile?!?" I blurted out.
"Are you calling me fat!!!" She yelled at me.
"I don't need to," I said.
That was the wrong thing to say, turns out. 400 pounds of an angry black woman charged right at me.
Did any of you ever do any Sumo wrestling? I cannot say I ever had. I hope I'll never will ever again.
If something over twice your weight smashes into you at full speed you more or less bounce off it. That is how physics works.
"Auu" I said flat on my ass about 4 feet from where I originally stood.
"Ma'am Calm Down!" Smith ordered again and the perpetrator turned her attention in his direction.
Yes, it's a perpetrator. Assaulting an officer! I'm gonna cuff her for that.
As I got to my feet the perp was yelling in Smith's face something about slit-eyed skank ass skinny bitches. It made me angry for a moment then I realized the racial slur didn't fit me. It wasn't me that she insulted.
"Ma'am Calm Down!" Smith ordered yet again. Guess he thought, the third time the charm. It didn't work.
The agitated lady kept on yelling.
"Calm Down or I'll cuff you!" Smith warned.
It only made her put hands on him. In my current patrol partner defense, what he did should work. If the size difference between them was not as big as it was. What he did was a textbook leaver applied to the arm, put the cuffs on one wrist, and then pull the other arm and cuff the other.
The first problem was that the barrels of lard where a normal person's wrist should be were too big for the little tiny handcuff to close.
The second was that if something is 400 pounds, a grown man trying to apply a compliance hold can be just brushed away like a rag doll.
Smith lost his footing and ended up in an undignified position on the sidewalk.
"Arrest that retard!" came in a high-pitched yell from somewhere above me. I looked up. A tiny Asian woman's head was in the second-story window. "I don't want nothin' from her man!"
That made the human shape lard monster take notice. She was currently directing all her verbal assaults at the person in the window.
With her distracted, I ran up and helped Smith back to his feet.
"I hate domestics!" We spat at the same time.
We looked at each other surprised. Then both let out a heartfelt chuckle.
"You good?" I asked.
"Yeah, you?" He returned.
"Never better." I lied, sorta.
The lady was currently in the process of ripping out whatever she could get her hands on and throwing it at the window and the person inside it. Branches rocks trash and anything else you would find on a city's street.
It would be funny if not for the fact the two of us were the ones to make her stop.
I pulled out my gun removed the magazine and the round in the chamber. Putting it back in the holster I started stretching. Kids always stretch before any exertion.
"You really want to do this?" Smith asked resigned.
"Not want, Must," I said grabbing my palms behind my back and pulling till I heard my back pop.
"We can wait for her to tucker herself out." He said but did secure his own firearm and started doing a little warm-up of his own.
"Not an option," I said "If we wait we the looky-loos will start to congregate, You really do not want an audience running a live commentary to everything you do."
"Fuck." He spat. "I hate domestics"
"Ready?" I asked.
"Ready! How do you want to do this?"
"You go high I go low."
---
"I hate domestic." I let out an exhausted sigh as the doors to the police van with the woman in it finally shut.
It only took two hours, and the assistance of our local SWAT team and their van to finally subdue lady 'eat all the things' I was so tired even my jokes exerted no effort. I still didn't understand the logistics of it. Something the size of a beached whale should not be as wiggly as a ferret. The six SWAT guys that helped us were currently in the process of high-fiving each other for the job well done.
Me and Smith would never get it done alone. Good thing I was on good terms with our local SWAT team. Me saving their lives at the last bank robbery and all. Smith was taking a statement from the Asian woman who turns out was the one to call the cops.
I was still drinking the mineral water someone give me at some point.
"Hey, Jefferson." I looked up.
"I didn't know you were the one that got the medal for that bank robbery," Smith said and sat down on the curb beside me. "They told me you had an afro and not a rainbow mohawk."
"Yeah, I got a cut since then."
"Is there a story behind that?" He asked and offered me a Redwood.
"I had a crazy night in vee... Los Venturas." I declined the offered cigarette.
"I would love to hear it." He said lighting his.
"I would love to know it," I said putting my water down. "I don't remember a thing."
"Hmm, a party girl." He smiled. "want to grab a beer after work?"
"Pass, I would probably end up trying to bang you," I said not really thinking.
"Well," his smile grew wider. "I am on the market." He said showing his hand and the absence of a ring on his finger.
"I don't want to get pregnant again," I said trying to scare him off. It being the god's honest truth was immaterial.
He shut put after that.
I looked at my watch. Six hours till shift end.
"We are still on the clock." I got up at that. "Let's get back to it."
"Can't we wait a moment?" At his question, I looked up at the sky. The sun on it and not a single cloud in sight.
"Car has air conditioning in it." I pointed out. "Waiting for you there."
The always present audience. This time consisting of people looking at us out their apartment windows, decided the show was over and got on with their day.
This was my first official day on the job. Public disturbance resisting arrest and assaulting an officer already, and it wasn't even 8 AM.
I got a yoyo. Yoyos are great. They make the hurry up and wait routine far less boring than it was.
Back home I would just play with my phone. Here that was not really an option. You can type eighty oh-eight on it exactly once before it gets old. This brick didn't even had a calculator.
Oh yeah.
That is another new development. Tenpenny did come good on his word and got me the cellphone he promised all the way back the first time I was in the hospital. It also revealed to me the man is a cheap bastard. The phone was the size of a brick, an actual brick. I didn't even have it on me. Other people were running around with new fancy smaller phones. I got a 1984 model. That one time I put it in my pants pocket it pulled then down. To the merriment of everyone in the room. I am not getting a purse.
Oh yeah.
I also graduated, I am no longer a trainee, now I am a full-fledged officer of the Los Santos Police Department.
"Yay!" I said after thinking that last part. As bored and unexcited as I could manage.
I turned my attention back to the yoyo. I used to know how to work one. I had one as a kid. Why is this one being so difficult?
As I was dangling a piece of round plastic on the and of a string someone said something next to me. I ignored it, I was so close to getting this stupid thing to work.
"Harumph" someone cleared his throat.
"Yea" I said looking up.
Not gonna lie. The guy was easy on the eyes. His uniform was freshly pressed, his belt buckle and badge shying in the morning sun. A welcoming smile appeared on my lips. Guess my body was back to its old tricks. I didn't fight it this time. Slowly I figured fighting your own hormones is a losing battle.
The guy noticed and give this cocky half-smile in return. It looked good on him.
"Don't worry about a thing." He said with his hands on his hips. "I know it is your first day on the clock. It can be intimidating. Just follow my lead and I get you through it safe and sound. I have been doing this for over a year. I will keep you safe."
With that said he thrown something at me. I caught it without thinking. Looking down at what I discovered were car keys now in my hand the logical part of my brain took over.
What does he think he is.
"How about NO!" I said as obnoxiously as I could manage. "You are driving!"
"What?" he said confused.
"How old are you?"
"Uhm I'm 25"
"How many bullet holes do you have in you?"
"What? none!"
"Me, I am thirty-two years old and nine bullet holes in me." I actually forgot how many bullets hit me but nine was a safe bet. It's not like he will get to check. "That means I have seniority. So stick with me kid and big sister Saskia will not let a single bad man get near you."
"Hey!" He protested. "That's not how that works! I have been in uniform longer I'm the one in charge."
I wanted to smile and say that I like when the man takes charge. That thought only confused me. Instead, I said.
"Ok, let's do it like this." I smiled "Let's arm wrestle for it."
---
Well, I won. It wasn't fucking easy but Qapla'.
When I said it after finally putting his hand all the way down and putting a dent in the hood of our cruiser, he looked at me funny. Guess in GTA world Klingon isn't really a language that exists. Still, the victory is mine, and with it the passenger seat. The guy's name is Adam Smith a fellow Police Officer. He really did look like his Disney movie namesake. Blond broad in the shoulders and as I already mentioned one handsome son of a bitch.
It was a problem. I actually would prefer Seaborne or Richards to be in the car with me. Neither called my body to go all lamprey on any part of theirs. I kept myself in check by looking out the window as we made our patrol.
"Disturbance in West Beach." came from the radio. I snatched the horn before he could.
"This is car 27 we are on it!" Smith mashed the accelerator and turned on the sirens.
---
As both of us got out of the car something that looked and sounded like a bear was moving in the bushes next to an apartment building.
"This is the LSPD Freeze!" Smith ordered. He had a nice commanding voice. I just shrugged its effect off as the thing in the bushes was far more interesting at the moment.
"The fuck you pigs want!" The thing stood up on its hind legs and looked at us with its rage-filled eyes.
"Ma'am Calm Down" Smith ordered. Yes, the bear-looking thing was indeed a lady.
The largest fattest lady I have ever seen.
"How are you still mobile?!?" I blurted out.
"Are you calling me fat!!!" She yelled at me.
"I don't need to," I said.
That was the wrong thing to say, turns out. 400 pounds of an angry black woman charged right at me.
Did any of you ever do any Sumo wrestling? I cannot say I ever had. I hope I'll never will ever again.
If something over twice your weight smashes into you at full speed you more or less bounce off it. That is how physics works.
"Auu" I said flat on my ass about 4 feet from where I originally stood.
"Ma'am Calm Down!" Smith ordered again and the perpetrator turned her attention in his direction.
Yes, it's a perpetrator. Assaulting an officer! I'm gonna cuff her for that.
As I got to my feet the perp was yelling in Smith's face something about slit-eyed skank ass skinny bitches. It made me angry for a moment then I realized the racial slur didn't fit me. It wasn't me that she insulted.
"Ma'am Calm Down!" Smith ordered yet again. Guess he thought, the third time the charm. It didn't work.
The agitated lady kept on yelling.
"Calm Down or I'll cuff you!" Smith warned.
It only made her put hands on him. In my current patrol partner defense, what he did should work. If the size difference between them was not as big as it was. What he did was a textbook leaver applied to the arm, put the cuffs on one wrist, and then pull the other arm and cuff the other.
The first problem was that the barrels of lard where a normal person's wrist should be were too big for the little tiny handcuff to close.
The second was that if something is 400 pounds, a grown man trying to apply a compliance hold can be just brushed away like a rag doll.
Smith lost his footing and ended up in an undignified position on the sidewalk.
"Arrest that retard!" came in a high-pitched yell from somewhere above me. I looked up. A tiny Asian woman's head was in the second-story window. "I don't want nothin' from her man!"
That made the human shape lard monster take notice. She was currently directing all her verbal assaults at the person in the window.
With her distracted, I ran up and helped Smith back to his feet.
"I hate domestics!" We spat at the same time.
We looked at each other surprised. Then both let out a heartfelt chuckle.
"You good?" I asked.
"Yeah, you?" He returned.
"Never better." I lied, sorta.
The lady was currently in the process of ripping out whatever she could get her hands on and throwing it at the window and the person inside it. Branches rocks trash and anything else you would find on a city's street.
It would be funny if not for the fact the two of us were the ones to make her stop.
I pulled out my gun removed the magazine and the round in the chamber. Putting it back in the holster I started stretching. Kids always stretch before any exertion.
"You really want to do this?" Smith asked resigned.
"Not want, Must," I said grabbing my palms behind my back and pulling till I heard my back pop.
"We can wait for her to tucker herself out." He said but did secure his own firearm and started doing a little warm-up of his own.
"Not an option," I said "If we wait we the looky-loos will start to congregate, You really do not want an audience running a live commentary to everything you do."
"Fuck." He spat. "I hate domestics"
"Ready?" I asked.
"Ready! How do you want to do this?"
"You go high I go low."
---
"I hate domestic." I let out an exhausted sigh as the doors to the police van with the woman in it finally shut.
It only took two hours, and the assistance of our local SWAT team and their van to finally subdue lady 'eat all the things' I was so tired even my jokes exerted no effort. I still didn't understand the logistics of it. Something the size of a beached whale should not be as wiggly as a ferret. The six SWAT guys that helped us were currently in the process of high-fiving each other for the job well done.
Me and Smith would never get it done alone. Good thing I was on good terms with our local SWAT team. Me saving their lives at the last bank robbery and all. Smith was taking a statement from the Asian woman who turns out was the one to call the cops.
I was still drinking the mineral water someone give me at some point.
"Hey, Jefferson." I looked up.
"I didn't know you were the one that got the medal for that bank robbery," Smith said and sat down on the curb beside me. "They told me you had an afro and not a rainbow mohawk."
"Yeah, I got a cut since then."
"Is there a story behind that?" He asked and offered me a Redwood.
"I had a crazy night in vee... Los Venturas." I declined the offered cigarette.
"I would love to hear it." He said lighting his.
"I would love to know it," I said putting my water down. "I don't remember a thing."
"Hmm, a party girl." He smiled. "want to grab a beer after work?"
"Pass, I would probably end up trying to bang you," I said not really thinking.
"Well," his smile grew wider. "I am on the market." He said showing his hand and the absence of a ring on his finger.
"I don't want to get pregnant again," I said trying to scare him off. It being the god's honest truth was immaterial.
He shut put after that.
I looked at my watch. Six hours till shift end.
"We are still on the clock." I got up at that. "Let's get back to it."
"Can't we wait a moment?" At his question, I looked up at the sky. The sun on it and not a single cloud in sight.
"Car has air conditioning in it." I pointed out. "Waiting for you there."
The always present audience. This time consisting of people looking at us out their apartment windows, decided the show was over and got on with their day.
This was my first official day on the job. Public disturbance resisting arrest and assaulting an officer already, and it wasn't even 8 AM.
Last edited:
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
All said and done, she clearly could have done MUCH MUCH worse on the partner aspect. Even with the annoyance of her hormones acting up around him.
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
If anything he is the wronged party here.
He pulled a short straw of getting an obnoxious ill-tempered no impulse control idiot with ties to organized crime on both sides of the thin blue line that is this SI MC for a partner.
May gods and demons have pity on him for Saskia will not.
Last edited:
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
Grove Street Families? She did already. Sweet home invaded her and everything.
Ah I forgot about that. Still with how things tend to be in GTA, it might not be long before Saskia is involved in some crazy shenanigans, which will inevitably involve GSF.
- Location
- Warszawa Polska
GSF does very little. Other than being in an on going gang war with Ballaz and Vaggos they only tagging walls and smoking joints.
Oh, so will it be Saskia that is subjected to what CJ went through?