It's just like Jesus Christ to listen to me slagging off His official holiday and respond by requesting the facistic services of The Man to teach me a lesson in biblical justice, courtesy of the Victoria Police. I was innocently driving to Jazzy Kath's place, for an evening of festive pornography, when I suddenly noticed the telltale red and blue lights flashing behind me. I pulled over, and a jackbooted thug shined a flashlight in my car, before tearing the door open, and yanking me out by the throat.
"Freeze, perp!" she screamed, pulling the hammer back on her sidearm and grinning darkly.
I gulped and threw my hands in the air, a tear already beginning to form in the corner of my eye.
"Good evening, officer." I said quietly, "What can I do for you this evening?"
"We're asking the questions here, fatbody." the cop shouted, pulling my head back with a fistful of hair, while her partner swaggered over to where we stood. She punched me in the back of the head, and I heard the two of them laughing.
"Put your FUCKING hands on the roof of the car and spread your fat fucking legs, perpetrator."
I did as I was told, my cheek pressed against the hot steel of the Torana.
"Is something wrong, officer?" I bleated, "I don't think I was speeding, and I -"
My words were cut off as I felt the nightstick being plowed into my kidneys. I fell to my knees, and began to vomit in the gutter, the laughter ringing in my ears.
"Get up, you fat bag of shit." the cop managed to spit out through his laughter, "Get up and face justice."
I was weak. So weak. I wanted to cry - I wanted to call out and tell the world that I was a victim of brutal justice, but I had little time to think about it, as I felt the two cops hauling me to my feet, and slamming me against the side of the car.
"Got something to say now, perp? Got something to say, you fuckin' piece of shit? Give me your fuckin' licence, fat boy."
"It's in my wallet, Sir."
"I don't care where the fuck it is. Just get it."
I reached into the torn, wet fabric of my corduroy pants and began to slip my wallet out - and that's when I felt the cold steel pressed against the back of my neck, and the telltale signs of a hammer being drawn.
"That's the kinda place a fat bloke - a clever fat bloke - could hide a weapon. You got a weapon there, fuckface?"
"No, sir. You just asked me for my licence, and I -"
The butt of the pistol slammed into the back of my head, and I felt a warm trickle of blood coursing down my neck. I howled, falling to the ground.
"Give me your FUCKIN' wallet, you fat sack of donkey shit. Or, I swear by Jesus fuckin' Christ himself, I will blow you so full of fucking holes that it'll take until NEXT Christmas to put the pieces of your fat fuckin' face back together so your ugly mother can look at you before they throw you into your fuckin' grave."
He paused, aiming the gun at me, and drawing a bead on my forehead.
"Now." he said, a thin rope of saliva hanging from his lower lip, his eyes wide and crazed, "Give me... your FUCKING LICENCE."
I reached down and plucked the card from my wallet, and the woman officer snatched it from my hands.
"You still live at this address?"
I nodded.
"Who with?"
"My parents."
They both exploded into laughter.
"Your PARENTS?" the male cop shouted, "You some kinda fuckin' MUMMY'S boy? Huh? Is that what you are?"
"No, sir. It's just that I was at uni for a long time, and I -"
"UNI boy." the woman cried, kicking me savagely in the ribs, "You think you're fuckin' smart? Is that what you think?"
I held up my hands, shaking my head.
"No, ma'am. No, I -"
"You think you're smarter than us, fat boy? Is that what you fuckin' think?"
"No!"
The male cop began to squeeze his crotch, bucking his hips towards me .
"You think you're smart, doncha. You fuckin' piece of shit. You think you're fuckin' smarter than this?" he spat savagely, clutching his obviously aroused crotch.
"No, sir. No, I -"
I was stammering, my eyes locked on the bulge in his pants in fear, as he wiped the drool away from his lips, and the female cop leaned against the bonnet of the Torana, her breath ragged, coming in heavy sheets.
"Do it!" she hissed, "Let's do it. Right now. There's nobody around..."
The cop nodded.
"Get on your fuckin' feet, fat boy. We've got a real sweet Christmas treat for you. You're gonna like it."
"Oh, he's gonna like it." the female chimed in. "Oh, let me watch. Let me watch this time.."
The cop swung around and caught her on the chin with a balled fist.
"YOU shut the fuck up. We do this my way. My way. Go and open the back of the van."
He looked at me, and grinned, loosening his belt with one hand, the other keeping the handgun pointed firmly at my head - shaking imperceptibly with anticipation.
"You're gonna like this, fat boy. Oh, you're gonna love it. You're gonna have a nice Christmas story to tell your Mummy when we let you go. Oh, I bet you can't wait..."
I heard the sound of the van doors being opened, and the crunch of the woman's heavy jackboots on the ground. She pointed her pistol at me.
"Get up!" she screeched, "Get up RIGHT NOW, you fat fuck."
"You heard the lady." the cop chortled, rubbing his crotch, "You'd better do what she says, or we'll blow your fucking brains across the door of your piece of shit car."
"And he's got brains, boss. He's a uni boy."
The cop chuckled, and leaned into my face, so close that I could smell the whiskey and dramamine on his breath, and could feel the droplets of spittle flecking my face as he spoke in a low, husky whisper:
"You're a uni boy, aincha? Oh, we're gonna be good friends before the night is over. You hear me? We're gonna be the best of friends. You're gonna like me, fat boy. You'll do just as I say. And you'll love every minute of it. If you don't, I've got something waiting for you. I'll wipe that fucking smirk off your fat face, and I'll plant it on the wall behind you. Don't think I won't. Don't think I -"
A car roared past us, as I felt the vomit in the back of my mouth. The woman cop raced over to us.
"Did you see that? Did you see that shit?"
"What?"
"That guy just flicked a cigarette out the window."
The cop looked at me. Then at the car that had stopped at a train crossing.
He let me go, and I sank to the floor.
"Let's roll." he muttered quietly, returning to the van and sliding into the driver's seat.
The female cop walked over to me.
"Now, David. We saw you travelling without a seat belt. Do you have a reason for that?"
Ashen faced, I shook my head wordlessly.
"This is for your safety, I'm afraid. You're going to be issued with a $140 fine. If you want to contest it, the details are on the back of the ticket - fill them out, and a summons will be arranged."
She dropped a ticket, which fluttered through the air, and landed in my lap.
Winking, she holstered her pistol.
"And, have a merry Christmas."
I sat, slumped against the Torana - and I wept. I don't know how long it was, but as I sat there, I realised just how annoying it is to be ticketed for what is - essentially - a victimless crime. There are people speeding, and driving drunkenly, and being yahoos out on the roads - yet I get a $140 fine and three demerits because I forgot my seatbelt.
And at Christmas too.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Posted by David at December 25, 2005 12:20 AM | TrackBack