Written by Jesus Budda
Rating:

Share/Bookmark
Print this

Monday, 19 April 2010

image for O' Halloran: The Stamp of Death: Part 3


Part 3


Homicide HQ - Psychotown West.
4.27AM

- WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS WANKING AND SEXUAL REFERENCES TO SEX AND SHIT-

Part 1|Part 2|

O' Halloran loosens his tie as he pushes open the glass doors to the Homicide office on the third floor of the Psychotown West Station House.

"Find all you can on this Doctor Huckleberry Fudgecicle Stickybum Baboon IV guy. I wanna know where he lives, what he eats and the size condoms he wears - big, small, ribbed, banana flavoured, everything".

"You got it, O' Halloran. I'll punch it into the computer and see what it spits out".
Pip gabs a cola from the drinks dispensing machine then heads towards the archaic IBM computer that serves as the central nervous system of all Psychotown's criminal doings.

O' Halloran grabs a cup of cold coffee and gulps it down just to wet his parched throat. He flops down in a bucket seat and tries to grab a few moments of peace and quiet on this hectic late night shift but is rudely interrupted by a screaming, bawling woman out in the hallway.
Reluctantly he rises and goes to investigate the disturbance.

Outside he is confronted by the sight of a gorgeous specimen of womanhood going apeshit like apeshit is going out of fashion.

"Get the fuck away from me, you cocksucking motherfuckers!", she yells as she is slowly encroached upon and surrounded by several burly police officers. "One more move, you fucks, and I'll take out every last one of you asshole dipshits!".

O' Halloran watches as she pulls back her jacket and reveals the sticks of dynimite strapped to her perfect curves.

"Holt shit!", he thinks, "this crazy bitch is gonna kill us all".

The woman pulls a telephone from the socket and flings it at one officer who gets too close, smacking him full on in the face and painting his nose crimson red.

"Anyone else want a piece of me?!", she cries," I'm gonna fucking kill myself and nobody's gonna stop me, ya hear!"

O' Halloran's had enough of this crazy bitch. He rushes in and grapples her to the ground before she can react.

"Gimme that Goddamned dynamite, you crazy sonofabitch!!!"

They roll about on the floor, grappling and kicking out like two drunken teenagers in a tent at Glastonbury.

They eventually come to a stop at a pair of shiny leather feet.

"O' Halloran, what the fuck do you think you're playing at now?".

The Chief stands above them, hands on hips and an expression like a man with severe haemorrhoids.

O' Halloran gets up and holds the sticks of dynamite he's managed to tear away from the woman high in the air for the Chief to see.

"I just saved a hundred lives, Chief", he pants.

The Chief takes the sticks of dynamite off him and immediately hands the back to the woman.
O' Halloran is dumbfounded. "What the hell is this about, Chief?"

"O Halloran, I'd like you to meet Detective Suicide Jones".

"Detective? You mean this mad fucker is one of us?", O' Halloran exclaims in disbelief.

Detective Suicide Jones re-straps the dynamite back around her slim body and fixes her tussled hair back into place. She then extends a hand in greeting, her ruby wet lips parting like seductively .
"I'm a suicidal cop from VaginaVille here to assist in an ongoing investigation".

"One of tonight's vic's was the Mayor's niece, O' Halloran. Detective Jones worked a case in VaginaVille identical to this. She was brought in to add her expertise. She's a little mad but she's a good cop and comes highly recommended".

"I don't work with loose cannons, Chief. Not now, not ever. She's liability". O' Halloran almost spits the words and then decides to merely droll them instead.

"Well I don't really give two oriental fucks about what you feel, O' Halloran. She's on the case and you've gotta work with her whether you like it or not". The Chef puffs out his chest in his best Dolly Parton impression.

"Ya know what, Chief - FUCK YOU", O' Halloran curses, "yeah, FUCK YOU and FUCK your rules, man. I'm O' Halloran the wanking Detective and I do things my way, baby!"

"FUCK YOU, O' Halloran. I'm the Chief and you do what I say you do, or else you're finished!".

"You never loved me", O' Halloran juts out his bottom lip and sulks, childlike.

"Fuck the shit, O' Halloran. I loved you plenty. Remember the summer of '84 when we went on that candlelight picnic to the caves by the sea? Remember how our hands gently brushed against each others as we both reached for the Ribena bottle at the same time?"

O' Halloran pauses, a feint crackle of remembrance in his eyes, then hangs his head low. "Sure. We had fun…."

"We had lots of fun, O' Halloran! Remember when I took you to the amusement arcade and you won $20 of the slot machines? And how we rammed each other in the ass on the dodgems at the funfair?"

O' Halloran mellows even further and a cute smile creeps across his weather-beaten old face. "Yep. They were good times, Chief".

"See? I loved you! I still do. Won't you just learn to work with Detective Suicide?", The Chief cocks his head coyly, "..for old times sake?"

O' Halloran pauses briefly and then hugs the chief and gives him a peck on the cheek.
The whole station erupts in spontaneous applause and cheer.

Pip returns from the computer with a printout of data. He looks around at the scene in bafflement.
"Hey, what did I miss?"

* * *

Unmarked Patrol Car
4.49AM

O' Halloran drives while Pip sits next to him reading from his computer printout. In the back, with her head peeking between the front seats, is Detective Suicide Jones.

"It seems this guy stamp guy is a real piece of work. He's got a rap sheet as long as a rappers penis - but with tighter pants". Pip scans the file excitedly.

"Where does this sonofabitch live?", O' Halloran gruffly interrupts.

"He lives with his mother in the Shady Acre's Retirement Home".

"He lives with his mother in a retirement home? That's major weird"

O' Halloran then turns his attention to Suicide in the back.

"You comfortable in the back, baby?"

"Don't call me baby", she snaps, "or I'll detonate this TNT and blow us all to smithereens"

O' Halloran smirks. "No you won't".

"Don't tempt me. I'll do it. I really will."

"Jeezuz, O' Halloran, don't mess with her", Pip squeals.

O' Halloran tuts and shakes his head.
"If she'd wanted to explode she'd have done it already instead of talking about it - classic attention-seeking behaviour. So what's your story, lady? Bad childhood? Broken home? Cat pissed in your panties?"

She puts and sits back with her arms folded across her bouncing bosoms.

"You know what, O' Halloran? You're a real asshole", she snipes.

"Better than being a FAKE asshole. What use is a fake one, anyhow? You can't shit from it. Pointless".

Pip tries to calm the tension in the car - and also to prevent any explosive life-threatening detonation.

He turns back to Detective Suicide and makes small talk. "So, you're suicidal, eh? How's that treating you?".

"My husband was killed by the Japanese Yakuza over an unpaid gym membership, and then my dog died from spontaneous combustion, and then my Bulgarian pen pal stopped writing to me. It all just piled up one after the other. My life was a wreck. I turned to the bottle".

"You became a drunk?"

"No. I just started turning towards a bottle. Everywhere I went I just had to face the direction of a bottle. I lived on a street next to the bottle-making factory. It began to ruin my life; I kept getting these awful neck aches…and I had no one to give me a massage…."

O' Halloran has heard enough of this whining and butts in.

"You wanna hear about pain, Detective Suicide? Well, let me tell you about REAL pain. How about the pain of never being able to love. You know how bad that feels? Well, it feels REAL bad - so bad that it makes your shit turn runny and causes puss to dribble from your bellybutton.
You know how many pairs of underpants I've ruined? Hundreds.
You can never make connections with another human soul and that's when the wanking first begins….the constant, repetitive, meaningless wanking…."

Pip waves his hand in the air. He has something to contribute to the discussion.

"I don't wish to boast, but I think that I have more right than either of you two: I am trapped in another dimension - a dimension I accidentally stumbled into after wandering through a magical broom cupboard in April of 1883 while searching for a quill to write poetry to my true love."

The car falls silent. It will be hard to top Pip's story, so they let the matter rest for now.

O' Halloran tries to be civil with Detective Suicide for the sake of the investigation.
"So, what was the case in VaginaVille like?"

She stares at the back of his head for a few moments before deciding whether to answer.
"Two victims. One male, one female. An apartment wallpapered in stamps."

"Could be a coincidence."

She is amazed by O' Halloran's comment. "It Fucking well could not!".

O' Halloran mulls it over and reluctantly agrees. "Yeah. I suppose that would be too odd even for a freaky town like this."

The car stops across the road from the apartment building where the suspect Doctor Huckleberry Fudgecicle Stickybum Baboon IV lives. The engine is turned off and they sit in darkness watching.

"Thats his apartment there". O' Halloran points to a second story window.

Pip removes his seatbelt.

"Hey! Where you think you're goin'?", O' Halloran looks him over.

"I'm going to go around back and make sure he doesn't try to sneak out.Give me five minutes before coming in."

Detective Suicide agrees. "Good thinking, Pip. No point letting this S.O.B get away when we're so close".

"Ok, Pip. But be careful, you little shit. I've grown very fond of you", O' Halloran sniffs.

"You have?!"

O' Halloran waves him away before he gets too emotional.
"Go on! Scat! And be careful out there"

Pip hurries out into the darkness and snakes his way down the back alley out of sight.

O' Halloran and Detective Suicide sit in awkward silence, which is only broken by the ticking of the timer on the bomb strapped to her jiggling breasts.

"You and Pip get on really well".

O' Halloran shifts uncomfortably.
"I like the little guy. he reminds me of the son I never had..."

"He remind me of the daughter I could have had if I ever got pregnant...", Detective Suicide pines.

"You wanted kids?"

"Kids? No. I never liked baby goats. But children...yeah, sure. I'd love a little daughter".
Detective Suicide smiles for the first time but notices her show of emotion and retreats back into the tough, streetwise cop she usually displays to the world.

O' Halloran checks his Mickey Mouse watch - ah, fond memories of Disneyland in'83.

"Right. thats five minutes. Let's bust this Doctor weirdo".

Both he and Detective Suicide cock their weapons and emerge from the vehicle. They stealthily make their way up the pathway leading to the doorway to the building, then push through into the main hallway.

O' Halloran takes point and ascends the stairs rapidly in full-on Special Op's mode. But just as they are about to knock on the door there is a loud gunshot blast.
O' Halloran bust in the door and pushes through the room gun first, scanning all around.

"This is O' Halloran the wanking detective. Come out with your hands up!"

No reply. He makes his way into the bathroom, unzips his pants and has a piss.

"I've been bursting since we got here", he shrugs as Detective Suicide watches on in surprise.

"Careful where you point that thing, O' Halloran. You're like Niagara on a windy day".

"Sorry. Never was much of a straight shooter".

Detective Suicide continues the search through the apartment alone, then calls out when she finds something.
"O' halloran, I think you'd better have a look at this"

"What is it? A porn mag?"

He zips his fly back up and struts into the bedroom.
"Oh shit!".

Pip enters the room.
"What did I miss?"

O Halloran and Detective Suicide move aside to allow him to see what they've just discovered: the body of Doctor Huckleberry Fudgecicle Stickybum Baboon IV laying on its side with a bullethole through the temple and his body entirely pasted in Penny Black stamps.

"Looks like he came to a sticky end", O' Halloran quips.

"I don't get it?", Detective Suicide shakes her head.

"Stamps. A STICKY end? Sticky stamps? Geddit?"

She continues nodding. "Nah. That one was right over my head".

Pip marks the time of death in his notepad.
O' Halloran re-holsters his gun.

"This case just keeps gettin' freakin' odder and odder.."


FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN CHAPTER 4

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

If you fancy trying your hand at comedy spoof news writing, click here to join!
Print this

More by this writer

View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story
View Story

Share/Bookmark

94 readers are online right now!

Go to top