DREAM POLICE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MjMCaw4qzjg

(“Dream Police” by Cheap Trick, above)

The headline in the local paper read like this…

“NPR PD raids home of local blogger”

Oh, the ignominy of it all…raided by the fuzz.

Apparently someone who read some of the things I’ve written here over the first (and possibly last) two weeks of the Welcome Aboard The R U Kidding blog took exception with my lack of seriousness and turned me into the New Port Richey Police Department, Lack of Seriousness Div. The LSD dispatched two agents, who promptly showed up on my doorstep to ask (question) me about the allegations.

They were an unlikely pair, one taller at about 5’11’, with an athlete’s build, short, short blond hair, sunglasses, uniform shirt tight over his biceps, of which he had three, a gun the size of a bazooka on his belt and an attitude the size of Montana in his eye.

His partner was shorter, much shorter, no more than 3 feet tall, with big teal blue eyes, huge ears, an off-purple floppy hat, a belted lime green tunic that hung to the tops of his shoes, no gun, no badge…OMFG, it’s Detective Dopey, accompanied by his side-kick, Officer Hardgun. 

It was the classic good cop/bad dwarf…or bad cop/good dwarf, or maybe good dwarf/bad mechanical engineer…hell, I have no idea.

I had answered the knock on my door and found the two of them standing there, poised to pursue justice to any lengths. The big cop flipped his badge open, and snapped it closed before I could look at it. “Are you John Krissongs?” he asked.

“Yeah”, I responded, “and it’s Cap’n John Krissongs to you, sir.”

“Cap’n?” said Detective D, as he jumped up and down so OH and I would notice him. “What sea-going barge are you the captain of, barfbag?” His belligerence was already becoming intense; he seemed primed for violence. As I stood in my doorway, offended by being called a barfbag, despite acknowledging the fundamental truth of the allegation, the little policeman reached up under his tunic and grabbed his baton.

OH, YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING…I KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT. SHAME ON YOU, SHAME ON ALL OF YOU. HE HAD HIS POLICEMAN’S BATON IN A SHOULDER HOLSTER UNDER HIS TUNIC. SHAME ON YOU.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Dvpi6t4PEI

(Watch Cleavon Little as Sheriff Bart “whip this out” in Blazing Saddles, above.)

Baton in hand, Detective Dopey advanced on me, intent on punishing me for a crime he had no way of knowing if I had committed, and in fact of which I was not guilty. Okay, maybe a little guilty. A little.

R U KIDDING ME? I’M NEVER SERIOUS…THESE GUYS HAD ME NAILED. I’M NOT JUST GUILTY, I’M DOUBLE-SECRET PROBATION GUILTY.

GEEZ.

As the tiny detective moved in, OH began to reach for his handcuffs (thank goodness he wasn’t reaching for his baton…or mine either for that matter). Just then, the lowing of a moo-cow could be heard, just outside the entrance to my building. I was confused…we have moo-cows grazing out on the lawn here in the complex? When did that happen? Where did they come from? Whose incredibly stoopid idea was this, anyway? The sound continued, becoming a little louder now, a little more insistent.

“You have a permit for that moo-cow, douchebag?” the diminutive officer screamed at me, the baton raised above and behind his head. (Shit, DOUCHEbag, it was bad enough being a barfbag.)

“That’s Cap’n Douchebag to you, pal.” I’d had enough of his tough guy act, and I was pretty sure that my baton was bigger than his.

OKAY, I GOT THE BATON FROM A FRIEND WHO’S A COP…I KEEP IN MY CAR FOR PROTECTION. YOU PEOPLE ARE HORRIBLE.

The lowing was reaching a crescendo, a wave of sound washing over me…

…and I woke up.

Yes, I do have an alarm clock that sounds like a moo-cow…don’t you? They’re all the thing in NYC, don’t you know?

I promise, cross my heart, that someday, someday I’ll write a serious post…honest to goodness.

I will.

Honest.

BWA-HA-HA-HA, YOU DUMMIES, I LIED. I’LL NEVER WRITE A SERIOUS POST, NEVER, NEVER, DO YOU HEAR ME? NEVER!

Too much caffeine, you think?

Love and Herefords,

Cap’n John

Post Script…no, that is NOT an allusion (above) to the running joke in the POTC about “CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow”…I would never plagiarize another’s work, nor so blatantly steal what I didn’t create.

Post Post Script…not.

Post Toasties…

!!!! GO DODGERS !!!!

4 thoughts on “DREAM POLICE

    • So, “Heath04”, or “Mitch02” or “elmo_milner”, whoever you are, you think I need
      “fresh content”, completely ignoring the fact that, although it’s true that “manual writing” is a lot of work, and heaven forbid that one of you “scammers” (which is another name for asshole in my book) should actually do some legit work for a change, all my posts are “fresh”, right from my imagination and my experiences. That’s called being real, as opposed to being a rip-off piece of shit like you and all your fake buddies.
      So tell you what, Heath or Mitch or Elmo, take your “unlimited content” and stick it.
      And stay off my blog…this is the one and only opportunity you will get to spew forth your bullshit here.
      Cap’n John

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