Pull Over

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Policeman.jpg


Oh shit. Pull - over. Hate those words. Don't you? The worst fucking words in the English language. In fact, make that any language. Combined they're Satan, literally god damned Satan.

And those just happened to be the words he chose. And that fucking politeness is so creepy. Anyway, there's traffic whizzing past on either side and he steps into my lane. My lane. And this is a motorway, so everyone's doing 70 miles an hour. So that's just stupid isn't it? Wait. This is a motorway, right?

Look, even his car looks smug.

Shit, shit, shit. I'm not going to be able to stop in time and I'm gonna run him over. He'd probably make a horrible squelching noise. I hate that noise. And it'd be so loud. And ahh! Then what? And think of the mess on the tyres and the hours of cleaning that would ensue. Or I guess I could pay for a car wash, or something, but meh, they're all fucking communists out to screw you, those car wash people. Or maybe they're capitalists, I forget. But anyway, if I did squash the policeman it'd be totally fucking


from there on. Shits. I really could do without policeman blood on my tyres, bonnet, and possibly even windscreen. I hate the way they say "sir". So bloody patronising. They know they're a higher life form than us, so they rub it in. Like that time they unearthed the rotting body of my dead cat. Two police officers knocked on my door. And at first I think it's the pizza, so I get up all excited and hungry and then it turns out to be the fucking cops. You can imagine my disappointment at seeing cops instead of tasty cheese and tasty tomato. They're all solemn, hats off, you know. Concerned. And then they fucking started offering their condolences. And I'm thinking "Yes! That old bitch's finally managed to succeed at death..making me fucking rich!". But then the policemen go and spoil it by throwing the cat in my face.

Actually throwing it! Can you imagine it? One of the idiots had been holding it behind his back, and then he catches me off guard and throws the dead body straight at me. So there's all like dead cat and blood in my face. And I can't see for cat shit. I just stand there utterly shocked and then the other policeman goes "We found your cat - it's dead".

NO SHIT, SHERLOCK!

Cops are getting fucking smarter every day. I have a feeling that officer was a Captain. So I like untangle the cat from my face and go and dump it in the bin. And I'm all like "cheers, thanks" and shit. And then the Captain goes, "Woah, one second, no way! You're not the Ginger One are you?". I'm not even fucking ginger, for god's sake! And I go like all "sorry but no". And then guess what. Then he takes his bloody truncheon out and fucking smashes me in the face with it and then runs off giggling with my lunch money. My lunch money! I was going to buy something with that, like lunch or something.

And when I perform the autopsy on good, ol' Roger (our cat) - in the family kitchen - I find severe internal bleeding. Obviously this was caused by repeated blows from police truncheons. Bastards.

This is the policeman. Or similar. A sort of representation... There was more light and his teeth weren't so pointy. Well actually he wasn't at all a vampire or anything. And his face was kind of more round and red and chubby. But even still this gives you a good idea of what he was thinking. Probably. Although he was more likely thinking about something quite innocent actually.

(Or at least that was my educated guess - years of Casualty and CSI and Shakespeare got me through the online doctors' degree)

So here I am. I can see the bureaucratic, son of a bastard and a bitch, clipboard-holding, arse-licking, shit-eating, gay, raping, bastard, shit-eating, pornstar, retarded Nazi police officer waving at me and smiling warmly. Idiot. What's he want me for? He's probably going to ask me to step out of the car and bend over so that he can pull my trousers down and spank the kinky shit out of me. I can see it now.

Or maybe it'll be worse.

It couldn't be? He wouldn't...in public, surely he wouldn't...

He's Not Going To Anally Rape Me With His Clipboard, Is He?!?![edit | edit source]


Shit, he's totally going to say that. Shit. What do I do?

I could kill him. I could totally just run him over and kill him and expend of his life and render him dead. Just do it. Now! Step on the accelerator. Nope...I'm too weak. I can't do it; I can't kill the Nazi-fucker. Now - smash into him! Do it! Come on! it would be hilarious, apart from anything. He could catch AIDS. Hey, wait, maybe I'd catch AIDS. That would be bad. It's unlikely, though. And it would be worth it. Nope, I can't do it. I'm just going to let him sodomise the shit out of me...with his clipboard. God that looks painful. And splintery. And it's going in my anus. That big inky clipboard. Maybe his truncheon will enter the sexual proceedings? Mmm...wait...no...! Shit, no... SHIT!

I hate office-themed sexual shit going down. It makes me cringe and think of my boss. She's all ugly and fat and has a moustache. Urgh! I seriously need to run my boss over, actually...if I ever get a spare moment. Mind you, though, if I can't run over this Nazi muvvafukka, then how am I going to be able to kill my boss? Maybe I need to hire a contract killer or something. Cause seriously my boss needs to die. It's an open plan office and she's always banging one of the janitors loudly, and in a highly office-themed way. That is some uncool shit, that is. She needs to sort her life out. Anyway. If I'm going to kill my boss, I should start by killing this policeman. I could go on the run and be like...um...Beethoven. Maybe I should go into classical music, actually? Hmm...dar deee dum darrr deee dum dilly dum dum dum, deeee, da darrr. That stuff's easy as shit. And all the coolness that comes with classical music. I mean just look at Beethoven! He was one badass rocker. Loads of badass shit went down with him around. If Beethoven was going to a party, everyone would go, just to see what crazy shit would occur.

Mind you...Mozart let the fucking side down a bit, didn't he? I bet he wore Y-fronts.

Wait, did he just nod at me? The policeman just nodded at me!! Oh my god... That's bad. Or is it good? No. It means he knows something. Something I don't. Er. No way, he knows about my porn stash...

Not The Porn Stash![edit | edit source]

There is no time to be moving in and out of this useful feature of many modern homes. There is time for that later. At the moment I have a police related crisis to deal with.

I can see it in his eyes. They've found it, the bastards. They must have searched my apartment when I was out (I was being a good citizen and faithfully trying to lick the tonsils out of a two litre bottle of whisky). Damn them. It must be illegal to have blonde chicks "on file" these days. Maybe you need a license to pack porn? Shits, shit, shit.

Actually...I don't even own porn. Who am I kidding? I'm far too uncool to own porn. Heck, I wouldn't even know what to do with porn. I tried this throughout school... pretending to have porn, that is... and it never fooled anyone but me. Cool, straight people own porn. People like me don't; just admit it! It hasn't really worked for me.

Weird, that.

Well at least it's not the porn stash then. I guess that's a good thing.

Wait a minute! Oh my god!

NO WAY! I'M GAY!

My whole life, something's been out of place and now -

How could I not have realised before?

Did Katy Perry not teach me anything? I shop at H&M! Of course I'm gay!

Oh my — huh, wait, I have time for revelations and transporting oneself in and out of closets, later. For the moment I have to concentrate...

The Racist Thingie[edit | edit source]

Okay, okay, I'm gonna step out of the car. He's waving his hand at me. The little police man person.

Should I accelerate?

Ignore him...

Accelerate!

Nah, I can't do it. I'll just pull over like a good citizen.

This is me. Except obviously it isn't. I was on the road, there was no water anywhere near, so it couldn't be me, could it? It's just an impression of what I felt like.

Yes, certainly officer, here are the keys. Yes officer. On one leg, officer? Okay, yes I can recite my alphabet. My Greek alphabet? Er, I can give it a go, officer...always willing to help the nation in anyway I can. Of course, I'd love to help you and the police force. Greek alphabet it is! Backwards? Well, I must admit I'm not exactly a Greek scholar.

Oh god! I know what this is about. It must be to do with the time Eric was trying to teach me chess and I said


What have I done? It must have been a police sting operation. CATCH ALL THE FUCKING WHITE RACIST BASTARDS! Damn the police state thingy! These are the same fucking policemen who stopped me killing my mum for her beautiful new sports car. Oh dear god, I'm sure I felt him touch my arse. I'm positive. He pinched it!

Omega...uh...Psi...erm, I think...Chi...Phi...Upsilon...er...Tau...

Well I appear to be actually quite good at this whole Greek alphabet thing.

...Sigma...Rho...

Oh yes, officer, be my guest you can have a look in the car, I'm sure you won't find anything suspicious. Yes, of course, you can close the door.

Well, if you think starting the engine will help you, by all means...start it! Yes, you can...uh...

...officer?

He drove off! Well he better be back quickly. I don't have all day.

...Pi...Omicron...