Okay, this is very strange, but it turned out a tad bit nicer than expected.
The night before Valentines Day, I was be-bopping down the highway and speeding like I normally do. Well, I had to get home as quickly as possible because I had to get to work very early the next morning and it was already like 12:30 at night. I had just been shopping and stopped by one of the gay bars I knew of to have some sort of nightcap. To make this very long story short, I got pulled over. The cop who got me had me go over to his car after he took my license and registration. When I got inside, I heard all of this techno/ dance music blasting out of his radio. He quickly reached over as if he were embarrassed about me listening to his gay-ass sounding music.
Oh, you have no idea how much my gay-dar was going off. Yeah, it was big time!
Anyway, that fucker detected that I had had a few drinks and hauled me off to jail. In fact, he escorted the officer he handed me over to all the way to that city’s jail. Normally, highway patrol officers don’t do that. When we got to the station, he made a comment that he believed I was carrying a substance on my person while the other cop was printing me. I think he commented on searching me like two or three times, but the straight cop said that it was unnecessary for the procedure and there was no obvious suspicion to serarch me.
Well, a day after spending two nights in jail, I got a call from the district attorney’s office saying that I was going into court earlier than my intended date. Yeah, get this fucker over with, right? Oh, I had no idea what I was in store for!
I got to the court house and represented myself. There was the great officer who pulled me over, but he was gussied up in a nicer uniform than cops normally wear. My, my he was dapper! The judge called the court to order and the cop made his opening statement and went on about how he aprehended me and stuff. Then, it was my turn. I asked if the other cop was there when I was detained. He was sitting in the court and I called him to the stand. Basically, it was all open-and-shut. Because of the technicalities of no tests being administered as well as Officer Dapper Dan’s insistence on searching me with no cause, all of the charges were dropped.
Normally, you’d think that a cop would be upset about losing a case like that. Instead, he came up to me after the judge dismissed the charges and asked me to dinner. Well, we’re going out tomorrow night since that’s the night he has off. It’s kinda hard to get together with someone who works the graveyard shift. I wish I’d been wearing a wig so it’d have been a tad bit hard to identify me after I stab out his eyes with a paper clip. Oh well, there’s no need for that. He fucked up the moment he pulled me over; he forgot to take off his wedding band.
Tuesday night, his wife is going to have a private eye-ful of pictures from her hub-bubby’s “overtime at work” as he calls it. I guess I should get one of those stickers that says “don’t bug me” and stick it on my forehead like that retarded nigger boy in that commercial.
People with one tooth longer than the other make me sick. They honestly make me want to puke! I hope I contract AIDS before my date with that fucking cop! I hope I give it to him and I hope his possibly whore-ish wife cheats on him with fifty guys and video tapes it and sues him for every cent he has.
I hate cops, goddammit! I fucking hate goddamned ugly, pig-faced, sand nigger, Taliban cops!
Sooooo, here’s what the date was like…
He picked me up in his cruiser. That was so sweet of him. He even flashed his lights and sirens when he saw me. Sweet, but really fucking pathetic. It’s like the retarded teenager who points up in the sky and aknowledges “Ehh- Pain! Ehh-Pain!” that Jeff Foxworthy talks about in his stupid-ass redneck stand up bit. Fucking hate that faggot poser. Yeah, just like I really hate this faggot-posing Village People reject. Still, I kept my cool and got in when he pulled up.
It’s really funny that he took me to the same seafood restaurant where Dylan stood me up. Fucker! I hope some nigger is ass-raping him in prison while another one smacks him in the face with his purplish-brown dog before he chokes it down his stupid throat! He truly is a pathetic cocksucker. I’m so above him even right now. Sure, I’m lowering myself to this cop’s whole experimentation that he just has to have, but so what? I’m going to teach this faggot wannabe a lesson. Stupid nigger-esque people need to be bitch slapped over and over again when they do wrong. That’s what my mother did to me, and look how I turned out.
He ordered champagne. It’s not as good as the shit that Dylan got, but it’s still decent. In the middle of our meal, I saw the dick I hired enter. He looked me straight in the eyes while the moron officer scarfed down more of his salmon and shit. I mouthed “you’d better get this” to him with a scowl on my face. He immediately took out a small digital camera and started snapping a few shots just before his waitress escorted him to his table.
Then, I snaked my hand under the table and pulled out my cell phone. I just sat it next to me in the booth and called up the dick and turned it on speaker when I was sure he picked up.
The meal was nice. He kinda took my hand a few times, but quickly brought it back when he noticed someone walking relatively close by. My hired dick was definitely an expert at stealth. He had to have gone to the bathroom at least six times and the fucking ass-rammer cop never picked up on his presence. I was getting off on this treachery so much that I felt like I could cum from the anticipation, but I successfully restrained myself. Part of me felt like laughing out loud and right in his face every time I noticed the dick taking pictures. I’d grab his hand in mine on purpose or lean over the table at him and stare dreamily into his eyes. God, he was such a repugnant son of a bitch and all I could think of was how well this was going to pay off.
Finally, we had finished our meal. I said as loud as I could without making it too obvious that we’d better go. That shithead never noticed the slight click of my phone closing and figured that I was digging around in my pocket for some money. He stopped me.
“Don’t worry. I got this one. Wife’s pissed at me; so this is where the night out I saved up for her is going.”
Jesus, what a wretched bastard! I honestly hope this asshole runs into a cop killer somewhere who likes to torture his victims before he slowly kills them. That’d be so lovely!
We walked out of the damned seafood place and I saw my hired dick snapping away with his camera in the parking lot. This was like shooting fish in a barrel. We both got in the cruiser and he asked me if I wanted to go shopping at the mall. As if! Do I look like a fucking teenager? Even if I was interested in this guy, that suggestion would be the ultimate dick softener. He’s obviously got a daughter who he probably takes to the mall any damn time she pleases, but acts all fucking pissed about how much time she spends shopping when he really loves every single second of it. There’s no wonder why he got kicked out of the Village People if so.
I sweetly replied to him that I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go home, but I reassured him that I had a lovely time. So, he drove me back home. What a sap! His car was still running when we got to my place. He was about to make some fucking small talk to me before either making his move or asking if he could. I just cut the horseshit and lunged at him, locking my lips with his. As much shit as I talked about him, he was actually a pretty good kisser. We made out some more and he started playing with my nipples. I can’t stand nipple boys! They’re not 100% gay, you know!
He noticed how I kept half smiling while we were kissing and asked me about it. I just told him that I was so fascinated with him and how safe I felt in his arms. This fucker really ate up all of ego stroking I fed him with a tarnished silver spoon. Really, I was smiling because I could see my dick out of the corner of my eye. He was in his car just a slight ways down the street and was shooting pictures over and over again. Great stuff!
Then, I got out and asked him if I could call him. He wouldn’t give me his number because he said that he was having problems with it because some guy he had locked up before was giving him shit while he was out on parole. What-fucking-ever, man! This guy was a lie-a-minute piece of shit. That’s okay. I already knew his number and I knew where he lived. That’s what you hire dicks for.
Oh yeah, my dick is worth his weight in gold!