A winter storm has rolled in on a gray February day. Snow falls across the campus. There’s no sign of it letting up. It blankets everything in white, a peaceful ruse that’s nothing more than wool over the eyes of those who refuse to see the truth. This peaceful, scenic school is about to erupt with a chaos that will spread across the campus. The university has announced that classes on Friday will be cancelled due to snow. A snow day, God help me.
But with the winter storm comes another storm. A storm of justice. Todd Storm. Me, is who that person is.
I may not be the proud River Patrol Officer I once was, but I take my duties seriously. More seriously than is required. More seriously than anyone even actually wants me to. So seriously, in fact, that they ask me to take it way, WAY less seriously. But I’m too serious for that.
My post is an administrative building near the center of campus. Out front stands a statue of the university’s founder, a noble albeit super racist man who believed in education for all (white people). It’s a school tradition to climb the statue and rub the founder’s forehead when classes are cancelled. The game, it would seem, is afoot.
I take a swig from my flask, which is actually not a flask at all, but a full sized canteen that I filled with an entire fifth of whiskey. I’ll need every drop. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years of law enforcement, it’s that you’ve got to fight fire with fire. With the day off tomorrow these students are going to be inconceivably drunk, and raging hard, like a group of hobos on Veteran’s Day. If I want to keep up, I’m going to need to be every bit as shitfaced.
I tried to convince my shift supervisor that getting blackout drunk tonight was the most logical course of action. He said absolutely not. He lacks vision. He told me to “Shut up, stay at your post, don’t fucking drink, and for the love of God leave your riot gun in your car.” According to him I wasn’t allowed to get drunk OR fire beanbag rounds at potential statue climbers. I might as well have been asked to do my job with both arms tied behind my back. Thankfully I had no intention of following his orders.
What my shift supervisor didn’t realize is that the drunken student has several advantages on the sober security guard in a situation like tonight.
1)He is impervious to cold.
2)He operates with a reckless abandon, something the drunk student himself refers to proudly as “giving zero fucks.” It’s a term I once naively took to be some sort of profane abstinence pledge. I had no idea virgins had become so hardcore. Of course when one such drunk student informed me of how many “fucks” he gave, before proceeding to steal my Maglite and hit me in the dick with it, I knew what he really meant.
3)The drunk student’s pain threshold is much higher. Even though after the Maglite incident I began to improve my pain tolerance through conditioning, particularly by repeatedly punching myself in the dick (because if you can take a shot to the dick and keep moving, you’re pretty much unstoppable), the drunk student is still at an advantage. I once tried to one up the drunk student’s pain tolerance by smoking PCP, but one’s ability to properly secure an area becomes severely diminished when he’s preoccupied with wildly firing his riot gun at imagined demons.
I take another sip from my canteen filled with whiskey. The sun begins to set. I load beanbags into my riot gun as darkness falls over the campus…and my consciousness. I’m well on my way to blacking out, and upholding campus law.
Several students have walked by the founder’s statue on the way out to bars, all of them clearly drunk. A group coming from one of the fraternity houses spotted me standing near the door, stoically stroking my riot gun and drinking canteen whiskey. I told them to keep moving, they told me to “blow a Doberman.”
They laughed and eyed the statue as they passed, whispering to each other. I doubt they’ll think the intestinal bleeding from a beanbag to the stomach is as humorous as the image of me getting intimate with a junkyard dog. Don’t they know I’m here for their own good? The statue is icy! What if they climb it and fall!?! They could get hurt. Idiots.
I just had my first incident of the night! A pair of students, a guy and girl, approached the statue and attempted to dress it in a school hat and scarf. As they were climbing the statue I sprung from some nearby bushes, pointed my riot gun at them, and screamed, “GET DOWN MOTHERFUCKERS! I WILL WASTE YOU!” The phrasing was a bit more aggressive than standard university procedure calls for, but at this point I was pretty drunk and it felt right.
Startled by my approach, the guy fell off the statue and landed on his face. He was in obvious pain. Already the first student to climb the statue had gotten hurt, and he had no one to blame but himself. I shouted for the girl to get down, with my riot gun aimed right at her ovaries. If she didn’t comply she was gonna have a stomach full of scrambled eggs.
Crying, she tried to explain to me that they were on the student council, and were simply “decorating” campus. I told her that her friend had just decorated the campus sidewalk with his face. She gasped when she looked over and saw her friend groaning on the ground in a pool of his own blood. I instructed the boy to pick up the three teeth he had lost and go to the ER. The two moved along, shaken by the incident. I was just happy I had kept them safe.
The bars are letting out. Random students make their way across the quad. So far I’ve spotted several infractions, but I wasn’t able to take action, as I was focused solely on preventing statue climbers, so the girl puking up salad and vodka across the quad was safe for tonight. So too were the couple giving each other handjobs in the bushes next to mine. Listening to the dry, exhaustive fapping of an ultimately hopeless handjob, and the half-hearted “pleasure moans” that came with it, wasn’t how I envisioned spending my evening. Just a hazard of the job, I suppose. At the very least I was happy that my camouflage was effective.
The group that told me to fellate a Doberman is back! They’re headed straight for the statue. I’m outnumbered ten to one. There’s no way I can detain all of them. I’ll have to startle the group, then strike and incapacitate them. Luckily I brought along a homemade flashbang grenade. Well, really it’s just a sparkler bomb. It’s actually a lot more dangerous than a flashbang, but it gets the job done, probably more than it needs to. But there’s no time to think about what will be exploding and if it’ll be exploding too much, I’ve got students to protect from themselves.
I finish off my canteen of whiskey and steel my resolve. The time for action is now.
What just ensued was a flawless execution of justice. I waited as the students climbed the statue. Four of them scaled it at the same time. It was incredibly unsafe, so I lit my sparkler bomb/homemade flashbang and threw it at the students. The blast knocked three of them off the statue immediately. I fired beanbag rounds into their stomachs and groins to keep them down.
The fourth student on the statue screamed “What the fuck!” as I darted over and swept his legs out from under him. He fell hard. I turned the corner of the statue and fired beanbag rounds at the other students, who were all fleeing. I hit one in the back of the knees and he crumpled to the ground. He won’t be climbing any unsafe statues any time soon. You’re welcome, pal.
The rest fled to safety, safety I led them to, through my actions. It’s always a satisfying feeling to know you’ve made a difference.
I just woke up in some bushes with an empty whiskey canteen and a killer headache. The last thing I remember was someone telling me to blow a dog. There’s blood on the sidewalk, it looks like something exploded, and I have several missed calls on my cellphone, all from my supervisor.
I just reread the diary entries from last night. I’m probably fired.
Never mind. I just received a medal from the local police department. They said that judging by my actions I would make an exemplary college town police officer. They’ve asked me to join the force. Officer Todd Storm rides again.