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This fucking day just keeps getting better and better.


So I open the door to the police (investigating the ‘incident’ I caused next door in a rash moment).   Open the door to the nice policeman (with Py’s leftover live lunchmeat currently stowed in the second upstairs bedroom).

What the fuck else am I going to do?


The officer looks stressed and unsure.   I’m thinking he hadn’t seen this kind of thing before.   All right.   Guess Py and I cleaned up everything rather neatly in the end, after the other night…   For fuck’s sake – focus, Jonathon.   I blink and rub my eyes , and look vacant with the best adolescent apathy I can muster.

“Hey, son.”   The man’s voice is a little unsteady, and the hand still holding the walkie is trembling a bit.  “Listen, are your folks in?”

I lean against the doorway and stifle a yawn.   I seriously am fucking tired, but  ‘you just woke me’ sympathy is gonna be useful right now too.

“No, just me, officer.   My uncle has night shift, then crashes at his girlfriend’s place on weekends.”

He doesn’t really care.   He hasn’t recovered from what he saw next door.

“Son – did you hear anything last night?   Seems there was some – trouble – next door.   Did you hear any – trouble?”

I shrug.  

“Nah, I was hanging out with my friend last night until late.   Only got home a little while ago.   Why – what’s happened?”

He’s still perspiring.

“Nothing, son.   Well – yeah, nothing.   Looks like there was a break-in.   A gang or something from the – damage.   Probably happened early in the evening, but you say you weren’t home?”

“Well, yeah.   I mean – yeah, I was earlier.   But I had the music kinda loud.   You know.”

He knows.

“Sure.   Sure, kid.   And you didn’t see anyone around your neighbours’ place when you left last night?   Strange car in the street?   Group of guys or something – probably four or five… big guys?”

I wipe my nose on my sleeve deliberately, and shoot him a contemptuous look.

“I reckon I would’ve remembered that.”

He looks at me – thin, pale, shorter than him.

“Okay, son.   You just – take care, right?   Keep your doors locked at night.   Let us know if you think of anything, yeah?”

He doesn’t really know what he’s saying here.   He’s happy to not be specifically talking about it any more, but is also reluctant to go, in case that means returning to the scene of the – incident.   I’d be fucking happy to stop talking and see him go.

“Uh huh.   Sure thing, officer.”

He starts to walk away, and wouldn’t you bloody know it?   Mitchell the lunchmeat picks that exact fucking moment to thrash around a bit upstairs.  

The noise carries.   The officer turns around, and looks for a moment.  

I look back at him, blankly, then glance over my shoulder, and groan and curl my lip a bit.

“Shit.   What the fuck is the little bastard up to now?”

The man raises his eyebrows slightly.   I shuffle my feet a little and look guilty.


“Sorry.   Sorry for the language I mean, officer.   But I’ve got this fucking Cat…”




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