True Detective Stories

Yesterday was my first night back, and night work is always entertaining. All the drug dealers are finally awake at the stroke of 3pm, the trash is at peak stench, and I’m not ready to hang myself until at least 7pm.

Of course, there is always some clown who wants me to start tying the noose early.

An officer called from the street and told me the victim (mother) claimed the offender (daughter) stole her Glock 9mm pistol from the residence. The theft allegedly occurred somewhere around September 14th. Nothing like being timely when reporting a stolen handgun. The mother said the daughter, a juvenile, stole the gun and fled the house with it. Both the mother and daughter were on location with police.

The daughter allegedly told the officer she stole her mother’s gun, then while transporting it to Visnhu-knows-where, another person stole it from her.


The officer – this is precious – asks me if he should arrest the daughter. Gee, let me consult Mister Peabody, and see what he has to say.

Yes, Mister Peabody, she admitted she stole the gun. Yes, Mister Peabody, she said that in front of the cop. Yes, Mister Peabody, she claims the gun was stolen yet again while she was carrying the weapon. What’s that? Yes, Mister Peabody, this police officer is a moron. Thank you.

“Yeah, Mister Peabody said to lock this bitch up and stop being a dumbass.”

3 thoughts on “True Detective Stories

  1. Ronni – Oh, I’m at the point where I despise this job anymore, but it’s never boring.

    TXNick – I think we were always worse, but we don’t make the headlines like Florida does.


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