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I was so danm pissed and frustrated when she said that. Now I know why those suspects on "COPS" are allways bangin their heads agianst the inside of the police car window.
The male deputy had to show the female deputy what to do, and it apeared she was new at her job. She was a big rawboned goofy sort of woman with this gurgly Brett Butler type drawl and said to us, "Ya'll just wait here while muh partner hear done runs y'all through that thar computer and what-not."
We were the only four people in the whole place, cause it seems that the whole police force of 5 or six deputies were out dirrecting traffic in the little burg due to that Emergency Call we heard a few moments ago on the police scannor. More informaton about that Emergency came filtoring over the squawk box on the deputy's desk.
A half a year and a hundred miles away from him being declared dead, (not to mention ten inches of reinfourced cinderblock prison walls), and yet, one fact remains: I find I still cannot ecxape the stink, the thought, the threat and the destruction of GRANFATHER'S ASS.
"Wanna stick?" he said, holding out one of them to me in a grin, between yellowed porcine tooth and tusk.
"No thank you," I said. Stu gulped both sticks into his cheeks just as the deputies returned. "I dont mind the taste of the hot spices," he whispored," I just gotta get rid of it cause I'm still hungry!"
The two deputies aproached us once more. Stu has coneshaped ears (like a pig, really), that were able to pick up a small part of a conversation that was not meant for us. He told me that the man sheriff had whispored to the female rookie over and over, "Are you sure you can handle it?" and she said agian and agian, "Yep."
Stu whispored, "She's insecure, Walt. It's probly her first week on the job. Sureley the first time alone with prisoners. She's putty in my hands. I can handle this. Why, I can talk those pants right off her, if I want."
"Stu!", I scolded.
"Relax, Walt. I'll get us outof here. Besides, this is sort of a fantasy of mine. A woman in a police uniform! You know, she's not so bad looking. You may think she's goofy. I'd say she's stately. Like a young Janet Reno in her mid-thirties-prime, I supose.
"And let me tell you a secret, Walter: I'm neithor a Ginger or a Maryann guy. Looks? Hah! Looks matter, but then agian they DON'T matter...I like a woman...how can I put this? Inexpierinced. Vulnerable."
He winked at me. "I like to win over their innocence with my worldiness. And a woman in a law enforcment uniform at that! A long standing fantasy of mine since..."
I found all of this to be absolutely revoulting. In the absence of food and venture capitol money, Stu's lusts turned to the next item on his list, WOMON. Meanwhile, I was so teriffied that my balls were constricted in fear even smaller than when Peaches was pokin his Pez head up in the stall to hollor at me, reduced and condensed and shrunk from mental trauma to the verittoble size of a coupel of ornamentol dried currents on the top of a Vienna pastry cake. I angrilly told Stu in a harsh whispor (yet not in these exact words) that though we were incarcerrated and soon to be penned in like couple of captive docile beasts, this was NOT the time nor the place for boarish barnyard conqeusts.
He repleid, "Walter, its time for be to bring out the charm and wit that's made me famous in the industry. Dude, come on. A guy like me -- an Internet marketing guy, well, I'm just so full of crap all the time, Ive got to continualy prove myself."
Right aftor this the 2 cops aproached, and the man deputy told us that he had to go tend to the emergency out on the State highway bridge and he was leavin the woman sheriff in charge. Also he said in all likelyhood there was a good chance -- but he coudnt promise nothing -- that the charges woud be dropped. Then he nodded and left the building.
"What movie am I from? Walt? Walter, look at me!"
I said to him "Stu, knock it off."
"Walter look: Its Pulp Fiction! Remember the scene? In Zed's basement? With Bruce Willis? Just before old Marcellus gets...well, guess what's gonna happen to US when we can't get these charges dropped...Heh Heh Heh."
"Stop it!" I screamed. Once agian I was screamin like a girl. This was NOT the time for jokes. To tell the truth he looked less like Bruce Willis than he did a freakin Holiday porkroast on a plate with an apple in his mouth. Stu meant well, and knew I was nervuos. He jokes to releive tension. That is, he jokes when no food is around. Sudenly he too seemed nervous.
"Oh, man, I gotta have some eats," he muttored. Stu started sweatin and shrieking that he had to have some more of that spicy Thai food or else he'd lose it. Then the deputy womon came back in and looked at us sternly.
"First off, do you know WHY y'all are here?"
I said, "Um, we ignoared the firedrill."
"Waaal, you just pleaded guilty to THAT," she drawled. (Oh crap. That was stupid of me.)
"Know why ELSE?", she asked. I nodded no.
"Waal, then I'll ask THIS feller," she said, aproaching Stu. "Sir, you are half-nekkid an' wearin' lipstick. Do you know WHY you are here?"
"No," said Stu.
She answored slowly, "For lascivious contact of a carnal nature."
Stu's face brightenned and then he winked. "Great!", he told her, "When do we start?"
I was sure Stu woud get a Rodny King beating for sayin such a thing. But insted she carefully uncuffed us one at a time. "A couple of doodles is y'all," she shook her head supressing a smile, "A couple o'corkin' doodles."
Stu cleared his throaght and spoke in his most mellow silvery radio anouncer's voice. "Ma'am, if I might just say. You are one VERY profesional public servant. I'm a big businessman in this area -- a worldly sort of gentleman, I supose -- and I can tell that you're new at your job. But Ma'am, you are doing just fine."
I thoght Stu was realy shovolling on the crap way too thick. But the deputy grinned for a split second and said, "Why thank you." As she led us both one by one toword the bare jail cells, Stu looked at me behind her back and smiled and winked. I guess he really knew what he was doing. Stu never ceaces to amaze me.
Damn! I was sure Granfather and Junior and my Uncles were there, but were all probly having a big argument or else some sort of Granfather-related digestive crisis. Fortunatly the deputy alowed me to make a second call. I left the messege on my brother's cellphone but alls I got was his phonemail.
Stu's free phoncall was to...believe it or not, to Thai Palace, for a takeout order of two Extra Spicy Combo plattors to be delivered to the jail.
"I cant help it man. I need those endorfins to help me get thruogh this," he said. Beads of sweat began to grow on his face, and Stu started huffin and puffing in lustfull anticipation of food. At least he is getting over his canniballism. Though, being more Pig than Man, I wondored. was it really canibbalism? In any case, between Stu and Granfather, my whole life was like an awfull freakish violant scene out of that 1996 remake of Island of Doctor Moreau."
"It dosent look good, boys, it dosent look good," she said sadly. I did not know what the hell she was talkin about. My whole body was weak and shaiking.
"Wall, I'll tell you boys," she began, stroking her angullar chin, "I just done got off the phone. This here's a small town, and we can do such things."
She contienued, "The good news is the judge is a mild man who I'm assured will eventually drop these here charges. Bad news is, whut with the emergency what-not up yonder by the State highway bridge, he had to evacuate his house. Till after the weekend. To go fishing. 'Least that's whut the message on his machine just tole me."
The slow-witted drawling bumpkin woman deputy cleared her throght, perhaps from nervuosness as I coud swear I saw Stu wink at her again. Then in a way that looked inappropriately comical, she daintilly moved a thread of hair from her gawky face and spoke some more.
"And not just that, the bail bond place is closed 'cause the feller what runs it done took another shot at his wife aginn. 'Course he missed as usual, but he's done got his own problems now, I reckon."
She stopped talkin and glaired at us with a little suspicin mixed with sympathy. "Y'all both was nekkid from the pants up when we hauled y'all in. Now fellers, whutever you was done doing when we done walked in on y'all doing it, waal, yer ain't allowed to do it in that thar cell, y'hear?"
Stu's pink face looked up at the and blinked. "Bail?" he licked his cherrey red stained lips. "You just said somthing about bail?"
"Yep," she said, explianing that it woud cost $500 a piece.
"You take credit cards?" said Stu.
"Only one card per prisoner. County rule," she drawled. "We done got burnt once on a stoled one."
Also, it turned out that as far as cash, all Stu had on him was 12 bucks, and I hapened to have nine bucks, and so, while the two Spicy Thai Plattors (he planned to eat BOTH) cost $14 all together, it ended up that I had to friggin loan him five so so he coud give them a good tip. Which he said he woud take off the interest portoin of the laptop money I owed him.
"Forgive me man," Stu said, shamelessly but with pure candor, "But Walter, I just can't be cooped up in this cage. I'll get you out, man."
I said "Please Stu dont mak me stay here!"