Pickle Cop

Crime. Some people live an entire life of crime. Some people won’t rest until there’s unrest. But that’s where one man smacks down the book at the feet of the criminals. What’s the book? It’s called: the law.

“Book ‘em boys,” the cop, Ched, commanded. Two trainee cops arrested a man. “Turns out, he was the culprit behind: ‘The Mad Shitter.’”

“The Mad Shitter?” one of the trainees, Cud, replied.

Ched explained. “Yes. The Mad Shitter. He hits up local taco joints and takes a mad shit in them. He sprays his feces and urine all over the bathroom walls and floors. Pee-yew! I don’t know what his problem is.”

The other trainee, Frank, asked one thing, “Can we really arrest someone for making a mess in the bathroom?”

“I don’t know,” Ched replied, “but by God, if I don’t stop him, who will?”

Ched turned to the culprit, “That’s it, vandal, you’re going to prison.”

“No! I can’t go to prison!” the culprit, Mikey exclaimed. “I have children and a house.”

“Someone will take care of your children,” Ched explained. “I’m sure someone will come along. But right now? You’re going to prison.”

The cop and his trainees pushed Mikey into the back of the cop car, but he was a big man and didn’t really fit.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to tie this one to the roof the car,” one of the trainees explained. “You’re right,” replied Ched.

The three of them tied the criminal to the top of the car with some twine they found on the side of the road. How lucky!

After that, the four of them were on their way.

When they arrived at the prison, Ched took an oversized key and locked Mikey in one of the cells.

“Here’s your complimentary harmonica we have to give you legally.” Ched threw the harmonica to Mikey but the bars were in the way so it fell to the ground. He tried throwing it a couple times and then the last time it went through the bars and Mikey caught it in his teeth, and started playing it badly.

“Ugh, what a terrible sound!” the trainee, Cud, said as he plugged his ears.

“Well, it’s the law.” Ched spoke. “And we respect the law around here. Now get and go do all my paperwork for me.” The trainees scurried and went to work.

It was just Ched and Mikey at that point.

“You know,” Mikey began, “I didn’t do the shitting. That had to have been someone else.”

“Oh yeah?” Ched questioned, “then why when we DNA tested the shit, did it come back positive for your DNA? Huh?”

“Ok, you got me,” Mikey replied, sullen. “I am the Mad Shitter, as they called me in the news. But my real name is Mikey. Please call me Mikey.”

“I call you the Mad Shitter.” Ched quipped back. “I call you Sally if that’s what makes me happy. You are a criminal and a low life. I keep the streets safe from shitters like you.”

Mikey sighed. He knew he’d be in the clinker forever.

“Can I at least have a lawyer?” Mikey asked.

“Uh…” Ched seemed weary. “Let’s talk about that later.” Ched replied. He started to walk out of the room.

That’s when he smelled the sweet aroma of something amazing.

“I got something for you though,” Mikey tempted. “I got something for you that I know you love.”

Ched stopped in his tracks. Could it be?

It was.

Ched turned around slowly and stepped over to the criminal.

Sticking out of Mikey’s pocket was a lint covered pickle!

Ched got aggressive. “Now listen here!” he raised his voice. “Do you think I, a cop, can be bribed?”

“Uh, yeah,” said the vandal knowingly.

Ched got really close to Mikey’s face. “Well, let me tell you,” Ched began, “I can’t. I…” Ched became weak. Then he whispered to Mikey, right in his face, their lips touching.

“All right, just between you and me. I let people out, sure. But that pickle? Heh. Not big enough. You get a bigger pickle, then we’ll talk.”

Mikey was confident and got a smirk on his face. “Well you’re in luck,” he lured. “Because I got a second one, a big one, with your name on it.”

“How did you know?” Ched questioned. “How did you know my kryptonite? It all doesn’t make sense.”

“Well for one, you have a pickle sticking out of your front shirt pocket at all times.”

“Shit!” Ched knew he was in too deep. But that briney smell really got to him.

Ched took the giant cartoon sized key out of his back pocket.

“Give me the pickle, I ‘accidentally’ drop the keys in your cell.” Ched knew it was wrong. He knew he wasn’t above the law. But he was only a man. And one man can only take so much.

Mikey dropped the pickle on the ground in his cell, and kicked it a little out toward Ched. Ched picked it up and smelled it like a fine brandy.

“Oops!” Ched said quietly. He dropped the key on the floor and kicked it toward the criminal. He turned his back and began to walk out of the room. But he turned around slowly again.

“This never happened,” Ched commanded. “No, it never happened,” Mikey smirked, as he unlocked the cell door.

The exchange was successful.

As Mikey exited his cell, he grabbed Ched’s attention.

“Oh, by the way,” Mikey mentioned, “could you tell me the directions to your restroom?”

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