American customers, Bill looks over their ill-gotten gain in the back of the paddy wagon. There was no need to bring it other than to carry all the crap they had stolen through out the day from many different stores. Next to Bill, on his right, is Alfonso, the youngest member officer on the force as far as he knows. Alfonso was a likeable enough guy and seemed generally interested in learning. However, Bill had noticed hesitation on his part when it came down to taking care of business. The last thing Bill needed was a sheep in wolf’s clothing, who’d rat them out if pressured by the FBI or internal affairs. He'd have to arrange a test for Alfonso, and if he failed he'd have Red arrange a funeral instead.
“So, Bill, are we going to keep all this stuff?”
“No, Alfonso, we’re going to share it with the other officers back at the station.”
“Why should we share it with them if they didn't come out with us and earn it?”
“First of all, I need to share it with all the officers to maintain my big man image. Second, we get away with a lot of shit and get all types of perks because we take care of the other officers and even the white shirts. Looks, it's like primitive cultures where you have hunters who capture meat that is more prized than any thing their farmers can grow. However, the hunters may not be able to catch game all the time. The people who stay home and tend crops usually have a good knowledge of where to find herbs and other vegetation. These crops and vegetation are a more constant source of food than the meat the warriors bring. The warriors share their meat because they may need those people to reciprocate in the future. We may be the baddest motherfuckers on the force, but we'd be up shit creek on our own. If we do end up shit creek, we will need these mother-fuckers to bring us a paddle.”
Damn, he's bored just sitting here in his apartment watching TV. Psycho never thought of it before, but he does not have much to do outside of work. He's been fucking that hot teenage redhead, but he is bored of even that now. He could go smoke some weed at the funeral home with Josh, or put on one of his disguises and have some fun. The thought of dressing up intrigues him, and he hasn't harassed his bible- thumping neighbor in the apartment next to him for some time. Yeah, that's what he'll do, time to break out his costumes. Psycho has a number of fake beards, faces, wigs, fake stomachs, glasses, platform shoes and other stuff to make him look different. He has just the thing to liven things up today. Cara doesn't mind dressing up either, nothing elaborate, but just enough to throw off people so they don't have a good description of him.
“Hey let’s go sit on the porch outside and smoke some weed.”
“Okay, Psycho baby. I have a pizza on the way.”
They’re sitting on the porch of his building eating pepperoni pizza from Luigi's Pizza. It’s a rinky-dink little pizza place they order from on the West Side of Chicago. The pizza man is a young African American male, medium build, maybe early to mid-20s. “Hey bro, take a break and have some pizza with us.”
“Oh, I don't know sir, we’re not allowed to; but what the hell. I never turn down weed or free food.”
“Hey pizza dude, can I see that Sun-Times for a minute?”
“Sure, no problem.” The teenage girl notices a strange look on his face as he reads and becomes concerned.
“Hey, what's the problem Psycho, what's so bad?”
“This article is about that new super intendant. Quinton Collins has been confirmed by the Chicago City Council as superintendant of police for the police department during a traditional swearing in ceremony. He takes the oath of office as the 51st police superintendent. So that damn Dudley Do-Right got the job after all.”
The delivery man leaves to go home for the night and Psycho and Cara are standing in the hallway kissing. “Hey, let’s fuck in the hallway in front of that stupid preacher’s
“So, Bill, are we going to keep all this stuff?”
“No, Alfonso, we’re going to share it with the other officers back at the station.”
“Why should we share it with them if they didn't come out with us and earn it?”
“First of all, I need to share it with all the officers to maintain my big man image. Second, we get away with a lot of shit and get all types of perks because we take care of the other officers and even the white shirts. Looks, it's like primitive cultures where you have hunters who capture meat that is more prized than any thing their farmers can grow. However, the hunters may not be able to catch game all the time. The people who stay home and tend crops usually have a good knowledge of where to find herbs and other vegetation. These crops and vegetation are a more constant source of food than the meat the warriors bring. The warriors share their meat because they may need those people to reciprocate in the future. We may be the baddest motherfuckers on the force, but we'd be up shit creek on our own. If we do end up shit creek, we will need these mother-fuckers to bring us a paddle.”
Damn, he's bored just sitting here in his apartment watching TV. Psycho never thought of it before, but he does not have much to do outside of work. He's been fucking that hot teenage redhead, but he is bored of even that now. He could go smoke some weed at the funeral home with Josh, or put on one of his disguises and have some fun. The thought of dressing up intrigues him, and he hasn't harassed his bible- thumping neighbor in the apartment next to him for some time. Yeah, that's what he'll do, time to break out his costumes. Psycho has a number of fake beards, faces, wigs, fake stomachs, glasses, platform shoes and other stuff to make him look different. He has just the thing to liven things up today. Cara doesn't mind dressing up either, nothing elaborate, but just enough to throw off people so they don't have a good description of him.
“Hey let’s go sit on the porch outside and smoke some weed.”
“Okay, Psycho baby. I have a pizza on the way.”
They’re sitting on the porch of his building eating pepperoni pizza from Luigi's Pizza. It’s a rinky-dink little pizza place they order from on the West Side of Chicago. The pizza man is a young African American male, medium build, maybe early to mid-20s. “Hey bro, take a break and have some pizza with us.”
“Oh, I don't know sir, we’re not allowed to; but what the hell. I never turn down weed or free food.”
“Hey pizza dude, can I see that Sun-Times for a minute?”
“Sure, no problem.” The teenage girl notices a strange look on his face as he reads and becomes concerned.
“Hey, what's the problem Psycho, what's so bad?”
“This article is about that new super intendant. Quinton Collins has been confirmed by the Chicago City Council as superintendant of police for the police department during a traditional swearing in ceremony. He takes the oath of office as the 51st police superintendent. So that damn Dudley Do-Right got the job after all.”
The delivery man leaves to go home for the night and Psycho and Cara are standing in the hallway kissing. “Hey, let’s fuck in the hallway in front of that stupid preacher’s
Similar Books
