Wednesday, July 16, 2014

The Flash

If you run from me, possibly the slowest living organism on the planet, and I catch you, you are one pathetically slow son of a bitch.

The other day I went to an apartment in a particularly crappy section of Cynicalville to arrest a guy on several warrants. I knock on the door and a woman's voice asks who it is. I announce myself as "Police", and she immediately yanks open the door and tells me my suspect has just kicked out a window and fled on foot.

Dear Suspect:

Christ, dude, if you ran any slower you'd be going backwards! You should be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, and mortified, in that order, to be run down in less than a city block, thrown to the ground, and cuffed and stuffed by a tired old fart like me.

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