Knock Knock, Who’s There? The Police By Steven Briggs

Knock Knock, Who’s There? The Police By Steven Briggs
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knock knock Steven Briggs

I’m awakened to the fist of justice knocking at the front door. I blink my eyes a few times for clarity and notice a pool of blood connecting to Heather’s face. I’ve now come to the realization that Heather and her significant other have gotten into an altercation that invited unwarranted neighbors to hear. Bang! The door is ripped from it’s hinges by a powerful size 11 boot. Two police officers rush in, one officer tells me to stand up and walk outside. It is snowing and I am naked, I ask if I can put on pants. He denies my request by grabbing me by the arm and pushing me out like a no-engine lawn mower for questioning. I tell him I was awakened by the knock and didn’t know how Heather ended up with a boxer’s nose. I have a pretty good guess he doesn’t believe me because he continues to prod me with the same question “Where is your pal hiding the drugs?” Apparently this officer is fond of Jay. I tell him I know nothing about the drugs in the house and play to his machismo. He tells me how he used to be a cop back in Los Angeles and how he was thinking about moving back to the city where his talents would be used to their full potential. It was too quiet for him here, in the mountains. He talked about all the men he has seen shot, some from his own finger. The other cop, more of a side-kick to size 11, seems to be on Heathers side till Jay’s gift of gab works her into a frenzy; “Side-kick” tells her to calm down, she slaps him. Next thing I see is Heather getting dragged out in handcuffs, topless  with a blanket drapped over her shoulders screaming drunk Shakespeare lines, “A plague on both of your houses.” I had to refrain from laughing or going into jeopardy mode and yelling “who is Mercutio?!” Size 11 has warmed up to me a little from me massaging his ego and says I can go inside. They drive off. I look at Jason wondering why they didn’t haul him off to jail as well but even more so, how come they couldn’t find the drugs. I find out that the night before, Jay had sealed the drugs in envelopes with addresses on them. Apparently he tells me it is illegal for a cop to come in your house and open sealed mail. Jay had just outwitted the cops and saved us from some serious jail time.

Written by Steven Briggs

Check out Steven Briggs blog A Meditation On Twisted Memories



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