Confucius laid out a system of who deserves the most respect. Confucius lived in a time before cops, so his system was obviously flawed because cops deserve our complete and total compliance. They are the ones that arrest us and make us safe. Learn more about how to admire the police in Part 1 and Part 2.
Outside, Babyback and Dash lay on their stomachs, adjusting their night vision goggles. Dash realized that if he was going to work with Babyback, he had to get to know him. “Babyback, how did you get involved with the police?” he asked. Babyback chuckled and asked “do you really want to know?” which made Dash think for a moment.
Babyback readjusted himself on the ground and started, “I have my neighbor to thank for it. I once snapped a shot of her bending over to re-sod her lawn when I was just a Freshman in high school. I would pleasure myself to that picture multiple times each day. One day, I had just finished and I had made a downright mess of things, with the sweat, the smegma, the spent fluids, and what have you. I sat there, basking in the warm glow of the morning sun, creeping through my blinds when my brother burst into my room and screamed at me “oh my God, don’t you fucking know what day it is?!” I couldn’t believe I had forgotten. It was Penis Inspection Day at school.”
Dash gave a sympathetic look. He had his fair share of Penis Inspection Days, just as every young man had. Babyback continued “School Penis Inspection Day was always difficult for me. I was home schooled.” Dash’s face reached 90% sympathy in terms of expression. “I barely had time to zip up before I had to run downstairs. My mother had already lined my two younger brothers up along the wall…” Babyback trailed off, and Dash put his hand on Babyback’s shoulder to comfort him. Babyback took a deep breath. “My youngest brother won both the ring toss and the deadlift. In the taste test I placed dead last. My mother said it was the most shameful display she had ever seen. I was devastated. When my father came home that evening to go over the reports, he decided that it would be best for me to leave and join the police. I didn’t argue.”
Dash was having a hard time seeing, so he removed the goggles and allowed all of the tears that had accumulated to splash in front of him. “Even after I took care of my penis, feeding it the most expensive foods to make sure it remained silky to the touch, it wasn’t enough. My parents no longer wished to speak with me. I have a much better relationship with my penis than I will ever have with my parents. It’s really hard to get a handle on it.” Dash asked “Your penis, or the relationship with your parents?” which made Babyback smile, but his smile quickly turned to an expression of action as he spotted their target.
A Siamese twin was clumsily getting out of a Datsun, and doing its best to walk towards the factory door. Dash and Babyback moved in to intercept. Babyback shouted “Surprise penis inspection!” and the Siamese twins froze in shock. They shared a lower half, and had forgotten whose turn it was to clean. The twins broke into argument and began to hit each other when Dash tackled them, bound them, and removed their uniform. Babyback was impressed, then left several impressions on the twins with his boot. After Babyback finished kicking them into unconsciousness and hosing them down liberally with mace. Dash gave them 3 rapid punches in self defense.
Dash and Babyback had to take a quick break to catch their breath, but when they looked at each other they laughed until they were out of breath again. They smiled, said “the law”, and suddenly became very serious.
It was time to begin their mission, so they got dressed, and discarded their night-vision goggles in favor of sunglasses. They coordinated their footsteps to maneuver themselves and the misshapen jumpsuit towards the factory door. This time, it was personal.
The silent alarm was ringing loudly in the Don’s office. He knew he had to escape, but to do so he needed a distraction. He pondered his next step, as he knew that once making the decision, there would be no turning back. “Fixmaker, get in here” he said into can attached to a taut string. There was no response, but seconds later The Fixmaker entered the room. A vicious mercenary known in his native Croatia as “The Fixing Person” and with more scars than follicles of hair, he could make even a hardened crime-maker such as Don Criminoli shart his pants in fear.
“You call for me?”, the Fixmaker said in a heavy accent, caused by brain damage from being born Eastern European. “Yes, Fixmaker.” the Don said while searching his desk for some napkins. “I have a situation that must be made….fixed” the Don said with a wry grin, making a joke based on the words “fix” and “make”, and his counterpart’s name being “The Fixmaker”. The Fixmaker looked at the Don until his grin faded. The silence was unbearable, and the Don began to sweat, and opened his mouth to speak when the Fixmaker interrupted. “Oh, you mean kill a guy? OK I totally didn’t know where that conversation was going. OK, see you in like, 3 and a half minutes” he said, pulling 3 pistols from pockets inside of his Abibas jacket. The Don was relieved, but then once again troubled, and stammered “Don’t you want to know the target?” which made The Fixmaker slap his forehead. “oh wow, I shouldn’t have drank that last bottle after the previous two. I am quite honestly surprised that I am still standing. Also, I’m pretty sure that none of these are loaded…well, with bullets, anyways. I vaguely remember stuffing a cherry pit down this one, and this one is now full of melted wax. On that note, I seriously don’t need all of these. I’m going to leave you a few.”
The Fixmaker pulled several more guns from his jacket, and arranged them in the Don’s hands. A few dropped to the floor, and a small pill bug rolled out of one of the barrels. “OK, you can have these 4, I’ll take the rest and go kill…” he trailed off, waiting for the Don to respond. The Don finished putting a pen into a small caliber gun and said “two members of the brolice.” The Fixmaker grinned and licked the vodka from the inside of his gun. “Today is a good die to crime” he snarled.
The halls of the explosion factory were lined with barrels of gunpowder, but there wasn’t a worker in sight. Dash turned his head towards Babyback and spoke directly into his ear. “I am beginning to have second thoughts. Even with the law and our ingenious disguise, I’m afraid that crime may have the upper hand.” Babyback turned towards Dash and had to lean back slightly so their noses were no longer touching. “Dash, we’ve made it this far. There’s no turning back now. We can run back to our cozy little homes and hide under the covers, holding each other and shaking in our boots, or we can approach crime at beat it at its own game. This ends tonight.” Dash was reassured from hearing so many idioms that he felt a renewed sense of law beating irregularly inside of his chest.
Babyback and Dash made their way to the end of the hallway, operating each leg of their outfit with amazing dexterity. Babyback laughed to himself and caught the attention of Dash. “What is it?” Dash asked. “I see all of these barrels of gunpowder and I can’t help but think of what my life would have been like if I were a canoneer. I originally studied cannoning back in university. My father had always intended for me to take over the family’s cannoning business”. Dash was surprised. “What happened?” he asked. Babyback paused, and spoke “Law happened”.
Babyback’s serious demeanor faded quickly as he remembered, “Oh, by the way, my retirement party is tomorrow. It starts at 3pm, right after my newborn son’s baptism. We have all the drinks we need, so if you could bring some sort of a side dish like macaroni..” but he stopped mid-sentence and looked down. Blood was rhythmically being forced out of a large wound in his chest, caused by small peppercorn. They turned around to see the Fixmaker slowly walking towards them, shaking more ammo into the barrel of his gun.
“You can call me the Fixmaker, but you’ll be dead before you can.” Dash was having a hard time supporting both Babyback and himself with both of his legs occupying a single side of the pants. “Stay with me Babyback, don’t you die on me” Dash hissed in an urgent whisper. The Fixmaker was getting closer and closer. “Dash, if I don’t make it, I want you to have this.” Babyback said, showing Dash a gun. Dash got an idea. “Babyback, rather than giving me that gun after you die, we could use that gun now, and we might be able to make it out of here alive”. The Fixmaker’s footsteps resonated in the hallway as his methodical walkmaking drew him closer and closer.
Babyback’s eyes were rolling back into his head and he had trouble getting the words out of his mouth, “noooo….ammo”. “Don’t worry Babyback, I have a trick up my sleeve – my arm” said Dash as The Fixmaker bumped into him, apologized, and took a step back. He pivoted, and sent a massive fist crashing into Dash’s jaw, knocking out his second favorite tooth. Dash regretted not using his arm sooner. He dropped down and fumbled to pick up the slippery, still-bleeding tooth. The Fixmaker loomed over him. “You want the tooth? You can’t handle the tooth.”
As The Fixmaker cocked and readied his gun to fill Dash pull of deadly peppercorns, dash secured the tooth and slammed into into the barrel of his gun. Thinking he still had the upper hand, The Fixmaker decided to unleash one more quip before pulling the trigger, but he made a fatal mistake. “I spy with my little eye, someone dead!” he screamed, and pulled the trigger, but Dash was much quicker and unleashed a devastating quip, worthy of being recorded in his Quip Journal. “Eye for an eye…tooth for a tooth!” he yelled, and shot the tooth from his gun. It entered the Fixmaker’s left eye and exited through the right. A torrent of blood streamed out from both sides like broken fire hydrants. The criminal slipped on the deluge and splashed blood all throughout the hallway, causing a scene which would greatly upset the factory’s janitors. With eyes still spraying blood, he yelled “You haven’t seen the last of me!”. Dash lit a large Cuban cigar and said “Yes, I have”. The Fixmaker watched as the cigar flew towards the blood, and in that moment every liter of adrenaline coursed throughout his body, now frozen like a deer in a freezer. The cigar hit the blood which ignited immediately and sent flames rushing towards a dozen barrels of gunpowder. Dash dashed down the hallway with Babyback on his back as the gunpowder began to explode, then paused to look back at The Fixmaker who was too busy exploding to quip anything about Dash’s explosive personality or fiery passion for the law. Dash went back to outrunning the explosion, and made it to a doorway before he and Babyback were propelled outside by the blast.