Originally written for my good friend Colin as an apology for not meeting up while I was vacationing in Portland, and because Colin loves justice in all its glorious forms, Cop Law is a story about the best cops on the beat – the ones that are so efficient that they find the criminal before they find the crime, and find the crime before they find the proof. They work diligently to arrest everyone in order to make the world a safer place.

Dash Lookswell laughed at the chief’s joke, his perfect teeth reflecting light in a myriad of wondrous colors all throughout the cluttered room. There wasn’t a joke about female drivers he didn’t like. The chief waved at Dash as he left the room, spilling coffee everywhere. Dash shot him a playful look as if to say “oh chief, wave with the hand not holding the mug”, and the chief sighed heavily. “If I had an gram of lead for every time I’ve done that, I would still not have nearly the amount of lead left in my body by crime-bullets” the chief said.
His numerous bullet wounds acted up in times of sadness. Dash tried to cheer him up. “Look on the bright side, chief. Tomorrow is your big retirement party. Soon you’ll be living the high life touring the world, eating exotic foods, showering everyday….” “…and dealing with my wife! What a slave-driver!” the chief exclaimed, and they both laughed sexistally. The chief continued “but seriously, I’ve earned this retirement. I can’t wait to attend my daughter’s wedding, and shower every day. My dreams will finally be realized tomorrow”.
Just then, the air of happiness was pierced by an armor piercing bullet that hit the chief in his chest, shattering his lung and rupturing his livers. He fell to the floor, blasting blood all over the place and generally making a bigger mess than he did with the coffee. Dash fell to his knees and cursed crime. He readied himself to curse tough stains when the chief pulled him in close and said “I guess I won’t be walking my daughter down the aisle.” his dry humor ironically contrasted by the copious amounts of blood on his face. “If you see her, give her this.” he said as he pushed a note into Dash’s hand. The chief continued talking, but Dash ignored him to sneak a look at the note which read “I’m glad you finally decided to stop living in sin. Love daddy”. Dash looked down at the chief, whose face was now completely covered in blood. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked. Dash said “yes” and the chief let out a long breath as he died in a magnificent explosion.

The next day, Dash remembered an old chief’s tale of a mysterious group of lawmen, and decided to seek them out in order to seek revenge on the criminals that took away his beloved chief. He sought his way over to the station’s database for clues on the group; a police force full of raw law and holding the capacity to take down the crime that killed the chief. After hitting the “hack” button on the keyboard, he flew through a series of tunnels with skulls and crossbones before he got information that the group met regularly in an abandoned factory on the edge of the crimiest part of town. “This time…it’s personal” he growled, bringing the computer mouse close to his face and crushing it.

Dash rushed out of the computer room past the line of officers waiting their turn. He did a half gallop-trot down the hallway towards the main door as not to draw suspicion, but froze in mid step as he saw the bane of all justice-loving cops. Knowing that there was no other way out of the station, he had to make it past the ever-suspicious eyes of officer O’Leary, who was often hanging around the entrance and using an Irish accent. Dash tried to slide past O’Leary’s large frame, but O’Leary turned around just in time to catch Dash. “welly well, look what the cat dragged in!” O’Leary jeered. Dash leered at O’Leary’s beard, which was clearly smeared with potatoes and beer. Dash tried to pass O’Leary, but O’Leary merely sneered and steered in front of him. “What’s your rush, boy-o?” O’Leary asked, as several other officers walked up to stop Dash. These weren’t officers that upheld the law, but rather would choose to ignore people breaking it if they were old or handicapped. Dash had no respect for them. Dash looked up at O’Leary and said “out of my way, cuntcasket, before I stick my boot so far up your ass, that my boot will nearly be enveloped by your ass and we will be forced to gallop-trot around the city together fighting crime like some kind of twisted chimera”. One of the officers shot back “more like a septopus” but O’Leary gave him an angry stare, which allowed Dash the opportunity to push past them into the parking lot. In the heat of the afternoon sun, he put on a pair of Oakley sunglasses and jumped into his fully loaded 2012 BMW through the window, and hit play on his tape deck, blasting his Korn mixtape through the speakers and knocking over the crowd of officers. He revved the engine and spun the car around so he had a clear view of the officers and shouted “I’m doing donuts, while you chumps are just eating them!” and gunned the engine up to the street where he waited for a car to pass so he could safely turn out. O’Leary yelled “I’m going to get you Dash Lookswell, if it’s the last thing I do!” Then the officers went inside to drink coffee and continue their game of solitaire.