Had an Itch. (I might regret this)
Sept 12, 2020 0:23:30 GMT -5
Lord Hastings, Alex Kiseragi, and 1 more like this
Post by Red Bull Icon on Sept 12, 2020 0:23:30 GMT -5
(The first hint of fall is in the air. The leaves are starting to turn. Subtle at first, oranges and reds, but will soon shift to browns and grays as they dry and die. Shorts and tanks give way to jackets and pants to start and it won’t be long until sweatshirts and wool socks and scarfs, hats, beanies, gloves, boots, knee highs, hoodies! Some nice looks but not that smooth soft skin. There’s water in the air. It just rained or is about to rain. It’s coming, it’s impending, and after a long dry spell of summer it’s so desperately needed.
The moist cool night air breezes past the cloth mask and rushes into the nostrils of a Transit Police Lieutenant with refreshing force as he steps on to a generic looking light rail platform in the heart of any one of a dozen or so cities that all look the same. His partner right behind him as the headlights of their squad car blink to signify the locks have engaged. Truly any one of a dozen cities where not even cops feel safe.)
Officer: “There’s gotta be more, right?”
Lieutenant: “What’s that?”
Officer: “I mean what are we even doing here, really?”
Lieutenant: “It’s called a check welfare. You know this.”
Singing Voice: “Yo Ho Yo Ho it’s a pirate’s life me!”
(It’s then we see a familiar but not entirely so face. Clearly inebriated. Plainly scruffy. Absolutely in command. He takes a mighty pull from his empty bottle, tosses it aside into the track way, and quickly lays down to close his eyes.)
Officer: “We should shoot him and get it over with.”
Lieutenant: “Cmon, would you rather…”
Officer: “Hey wake up! On your feet, let’s go!”
(No response.)
Lieutenant: “He might be to DK.”
Officer: “He’s not. Can’t sleep here, buddy.”
(The officer takes this moment, given the previous lack of response, to step on our pirate friends foot. This does elicit a pained response.)
Guy: “Why not? There a vacancy at your sisters? Cause I don’t get much sleep when I’m over there either.”
Lieutenant: “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Let’s get you on your way.”
Guy: “Yeah get outta my way. Out mah face! Let me sleep.”
Officer: “We need you to stand up and leave the station. You can’t sleep here.”
Guy: “Because of all the piggy sounds you two is makin’?”
Lieutenant: “Alright we tried.”
(The officer takes his foot off the maybe one day soon peg leg of our seafaring friend, and together they grab and hoist the drunkard to his feet. This provokes an aggressive response and a scuffle begins. Our loitering lead struggles with the police as they attempt and fail to restrain him.)
Lieutenant: “Get him cuffed.”
Officer: “I’m trying!”
(His hands are so fast. So, coordinated. It’s with an ungodly deftness he manages to avoid the bracelets. It’s with sheer utter contempt he takes every opportunity to give the officer the finger as the officer fails repeatedly to secure his suspect. The conflict is forced back to the ground by the two. The one is not hindered. He squirms, twists, and at one point even kisses the cheek of the Lieutenant.)
Guy: “Such a handsome young man.”
Lieutenant: “Will you just get him cuffed!”
Officer: “Fuck it! I’ma taser his ass!”
Female Voice: “Oh god what is going on! Get off of him! Get off of him!”
(That’s when we see her. Statuesque. The living breathing personification of beauty. Tall. Lean. Ample bosomed. Curvy’ed bottom. Smooth silky ebony skin. Light brown eyes. Full pink lips. We could go one. Describe every minute detail. We could spend every day discovering and inventing new and fanciful ways to truly and completely fail painting a picture worthy of her grace and sophistication and just her insanity inducing fuckability.)
Officer: “Get the hell back!”
(The woman was running to the instance until the officer stood up and pointed his taser at her.)
Woman: “Don’t shoot me! Don’t shoot me! I see how it is. My drunk (?) husband gets felt up, but I get shot! It’s because I’m…”
(Remembering they are all currently on a public transportation platform.)
Lieutenant: “Put that damn thing away.”
Woman: “And let him go! Let him go! He can’t breathe!”
(The look in his eyes. Years of extra shifts. Years of being spit on. Years of dealing with societies worst. Years from retirement, but not far enough to start over because of some asshole with a cell phone.)
Lieutenant: “Let him go.”
Guy: “And help me up. Dust me off. Got a dollar?”
Officer: “What?”
Lieutenant: “Lady, get him and you off my platform.”
Guy: “Oh she’s already gotten me off in this station.”
(The Guy and Gal arm in arm walk away from the cops.)
Woman: “Finally. When you said hide and seek, I thought we were staying in the hotel for the night at least. What were you doing out here?”
Guy: “Looking back through the pitch-black tulip, cher.”
(Over the radio.)
Lieutenant: “Adam 12 code 4. You can show us 10-8.”
(The couple now gone. A train passed, and they vanished.)
Officer: “Right. 10-8. There’s gotta be more, right.”
Lieutenant: “If there is we better figure it out fast.”
(Searching his pockets as they’re now at the squad car.)
Lieutenant: “You didn’t.”
Officer: “I think I lost the damn keys. How the hell?”
(Back to end with him and her.)
Woman: “You need a hobby.”
Guy: “But I already got many.”
(He holds up a set of Ford Explorer keys. She sighs, opens her purse, and the pirate throws them in with the others.)
The moist cool night air breezes past the cloth mask and rushes into the nostrils of a Transit Police Lieutenant with refreshing force as he steps on to a generic looking light rail platform in the heart of any one of a dozen or so cities that all look the same. His partner right behind him as the headlights of their squad car blink to signify the locks have engaged. Truly any one of a dozen cities where not even cops feel safe.)
Officer: “There’s gotta be more, right?”
Lieutenant: “What’s that?”
Officer: “I mean what are we even doing here, really?”
Lieutenant: “It’s called a check welfare. You know this.”
Singing Voice: “Yo Ho Yo Ho it’s a pirate’s life me!”
(It’s then we see a familiar but not entirely so face. Clearly inebriated. Plainly scruffy. Absolutely in command. He takes a mighty pull from his empty bottle, tosses it aside into the track way, and quickly lays down to close his eyes.)
Officer: “We should shoot him and get it over with.”
Lieutenant: “Cmon, would you rather…”
Officer: “Hey wake up! On your feet, let’s go!”
(No response.)
Lieutenant: “He might be to DK.”
Officer: “He’s not. Can’t sleep here, buddy.”
(The officer takes this moment, given the previous lack of response, to step on our pirate friends foot. This does elicit a pained response.)
Guy: “Why not? There a vacancy at your sisters? Cause I don’t get much sleep when I’m over there either.”
Lieutenant: “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Let’s get you on your way.”
Guy: “Yeah get outta my way. Out mah face! Let me sleep.”
Officer: “We need you to stand up and leave the station. You can’t sleep here.”
Guy: “Because of all the piggy sounds you two is makin’?”
Lieutenant: “Alright we tried.”
(The officer takes his foot off the maybe one day soon peg leg of our seafaring friend, and together they grab and hoist the drunkard to his feet. This provokes an aggressive response and a scuffle begins. Our loitering lead struggles with the police as they attempt and fail to restrain him.)
Lieutenant: “Get him cuffed.”
Officer: “I’m trying!”
(His hands are so fast. So, coordinated. It’s with an ungodly deftness he manages to avoid the bracelets. It’s with sheer utter contempt he takes every opportunity to give the officer the finger as the officer fails repeatedly to secure his suspect. The conflict is forced back to the ground by the two. The one is not hindered. He squirms, twists, and at one point even kisses the cheek of the Lieutenant.)
Guy: “Such a handsome young man.”
Lieutenant: “Will you just get him cuffed!”
Officer: “Fuck it! I’ma taser his ass!”
Female Voice: “Oh god what is going on! Get off of him! Get off of him!”
(That’s when we see her. Statuesque. The living breathing personification of beauty. Tall. Lean. Ample bosomed. Curvy’ed bottom. Smooth silky ebony skin. Light brown eyes. Full pink lips. We could go one. Describe every minute detail. We could spend every day discovering and inventing new and fanciful ways to truly and completely fail painting a picture worthy of her grace and sophistication and just her insanity inducing fuckability.)
Officer: “Get the hell back!”
(The woman was running to the instance until the officer stood up and pointed his taser at her.)
Woman: “Don’t shoot me! Don’t shoot me! I see how it is. My drunk (?) husband gets felt up, but I get shot! It’s because I’m…”
(Remembering they are all currently on a public transportation platform.)
Lieutenant: “Put that damn thing away.”
Woman: “And let him go! Let him go! He can’t breathe!”
(The look in his eyes. Years of extra shifts. Years of being spit on. Years of dealing with societies worst. Years from retirement, but not far enough to start over because of some asshole with a cell phone.)
Lieutenant: “Let him go.”
Guy: “And help me up. Dust me off. Got a dollar?”
Officer: “What?”
Lieutenant: “Lady, get him and you off my platform.”
Guy: “Oh she’s already gotten me off in this station.”
(The Guy and Gal arm in arm walk away from the cops.)
Woman: “Finally. When you said hide and seek, I thought we were staying in the hotel for the night at least. What were you doing out here?”
Guy: “Looking back through the pitch-black tulip, cher.”
(Over the radio.)
Lieutenant: “Adam 12 code 4. You can show us 10-8.”
(The couple now gone. A train passed, and they vanished.)
Officer: “Right. 10-8. There’s gotta be more, right.”
Lieutenant: “If there is we better figure it out fast.”
(Searching his pockets as they’re now at the squad car.)
Lieutenant: “You didn’t.”
Officer: “I think I lost the damn keys. How the hell?”
(Back to end with him and her.)
Woman: “You need a hobby.”
Guy: “But I already got many.”
(He holds up a set of Ford Explorer keys. She sighs, opens her purse, and the pirate throws them in with the others.)
