Remington Quaid (619 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.4 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by cat_head (View user info) at 2004-05-07 11:09:11 EDT
My uncle was a police officer here in England, until he was killed in a motorcycle accident at the age of 48. We spent quite a lot of time together and were pretty close, so I wasn't very surprised when I received a letter from his solicitor detailing some items he'd left to me in his will. We'd all got a bit of money, or at least we would when we sold his house, and my dad had got possesion of all of the personal effects in his house. I'd always been very proud of the fact that my uncle was a "copper" as we call them here, and had often talked about becoming one myself. This must have impressed him as the letter basically said that he was leaving me all of his police equipment and paraphernalia, which were apparently stored in a lock-up round the corner from his house.
I was touched and thrilled, even though it wasn't really any use to me. My uncle had said that he wanted it to go to someone who would care for it, and he knew I would. I thought that at least it would be a lot of fun just to dress up and dick around in it. I headed over there in my car, removed the padlock using the keys that had come with the letter and swung open the door. The first thing that struck me was the large police motorbike stood in the centre! I immediately realised that this was some kind of oversight on the part of the police. For some reason they had not got round to getting it back. I spent half an hour investigating it, looking at all the strange buttons and lights, and then checked out the rest of the stuff. There were a couple of uniforms in plastic tubs, some kickass boots that looked like they'd dented a few hippy heads in their time, and also some riot gear; a visored helmet, flak jacket and, to my sheer delight, a nightstick!
I chucked all the stuff in my car, had one final sit on the bike, and headed home. Ten minutes later I was looking at my full-length, fully tooled up reflection, and I looked like a genuine police officer. The uniform was a perfect fit, and I just loved the way the nightstick hung down through a little metal circle attached to the belt. I spent the rest of the day trying various combinations of jackets, headgear and weaponry. There was a truncheon as well as a nightstick, and though it was pretty cool, it wasn't a touch on the stick. I mean, what is?
Over the next few months I kind of forgot about it. I put the stuff on occasionally and messed around in front of the mirror. I decided my alter-ego was named "Remington Quaid", and that he had been thrown out of "Homicide" for excessive use of his nightstick, and was serving a short sentence in "Highway Patrol". Still no-one had approached me about the bike. What I really wanted was to have a go on it, but they're not exactly inconspicuous. I considered the chances of getting caught if I did go out in full gear on the bike, and to my surprise I reasoned that it would actually be fairly safe. I figured that I could just ignore any members of the public and that the only real danger would be another officer IDing the bike from the plate. I thought that if I took it to a different district I might be ignored. As you can probably guess, my reasoning was to turn out flawed.
I mulled it over and over, and partly because I was so bored at the time, decided to give it a go. At 11am on a quiet Thursday, his mirror Aviator-ed face showing no sign of the nerves bubbling underneath, DI Remington Quaid eased his bike out into the traffic and began to cruise. The bike was a lot easier to ride than I had expected, and I had no trouble with it. My main concern was having to interact with people. I was freaking out about this a bit, but the feel of my nightstick hanging down off my hip soothed my fears. I rode to a town quite a way away, using the bigger roads. It was a joy to have people move out of my way, let me out, and generally treat me with such courtesy that I felt I was an emperor walking amongst my fearful yet adoring underlings. I was having the time of my fucking life.
I was stuck in some traffic that I couldn't get through when I heard a voice: "Officer!"
"Shit," I thought. I turned to see a middle-aged woman stepping off the pavement towards me. I removed the match from my mouth and turned to face her.
"Can you tell me how I can get to Boundary Street," she asked.
"Certainly ma'am. Take that street there and just keep on going. You can't miss it." This was complete horseshit - I had no idea where I was. But I guessed that this was fairly risk free.
Once my heart rate had dropped back down to something approaching normal I once again began to revel in the feeling of power that this was giving me. I saw a light come on on the dash. Shit, low on fuel. I swung into the next petrol station, filled up and went in, telling myself "I am Remington McQuaid." It was all about confidence, I knew. The clerk looked a little surprised when I paid in cash, but I removed my Aviators and fixed him with a calm stare. He immediately backed down and even began to look a little guilty about something or other, and I left the till with a confident "Thanks, son."
I decided to call it a day and made it home without incident. I collapsed on the couch and slept like a log. I woke ten hours later, feeling much refreshed, and then it all hit me. I grabbed some beer and spent the next few hours in joyful reminiscence of what it had felt like.
Over the next few months I went out pretty much every weekend. I became increasingly confident and began approaching people to help. Most of the time it was just a little bit of banter, just generally seeming in charge. I loved it. I stopped at quite a few breakdowns on the motorway, particularly if women were involved, and did my thing.
One time, I saw a shopkeeper chasing some teenagers. He called out to me and I cruised along after one of the kids for a bit. He was obviously shitting his pants and soon stopped and turned to face me. I parked the bike and walked over to him.
"What's going on, son?" I asked.
"Ask him - he grabbed Luke," the kid says, pointing to the shop dude who was standing a few feet away looking pissed off but nervous.
"I'm asking you, son." I made a small movement that resulted in my hand resting on the handle of my nightstick.
I got stories from both of them and it looked like the shopkeeper had been a little paranoid and accused them of stealing. They had taken offence and pushed over some stock. No biggie. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, I reckoned. However, I didn't like the manner of the shopkeeper. I let the kid go and took the guy back to the store. Making sure no one was about, I gave him some advice.
"Go easier on the kids," I said quietly, fixing him with a cold, level stare. He immediately began a rant, but I drew my nightstick, by now a fluid, practiced move, and placed the tip under his chin, pushing to tilt his head slightly upwards.
"Go easier on the kids. Capiche?"
He looked shocked and scared and eventually nodded his understanding. As I left he spoke:
"You just assaulted me. Isn't that against the law?" he tentatively asked.
I put on my Aviators.
"I am the law," I replied and marched out into the sunlight.
This was getting out of hand.
Part II coming soon!
User Reviews
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2004-09-09 04:19:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is one of the few times I've actually laughed out loud and hard at something on here. AWESOME. You are the law. HAHAHA.
Submitted by BonesForBucks (user info) at 2004-09-09 04:02:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I LOVE IT
Submitted by Jokaah (user info) at 2004-06-29 20:46:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
SKULL!
Submitted by legallady (user info) at 2004-05-07 13:31:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I have a trunk fuck fantasy. Flashin lights
uniform, skirt hiked up....
Submitted by Luckystar (user info) at 2004-05-07 12:40:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
AWESOME
Submitted by slowlyrotting (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:46:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i think when the green bastard was molested as a child, then when he tried to grow up and have a wife, she fucked every cop that pulled her over and came home with blowjob breath. that would explain the animosity...
Submitted by Dervel (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:38:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ha Ha. High Jinx! Have you had the lights and stuff on? Can I have a go? please?
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:36:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You suck fuck.
Submitted by The_Green_Bastard (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:30:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
maybe you & slowlyrotting can play dress up & cavity search one another.
Submitted by KoolWang (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:19:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by slowlyrotting (user info) at 2004-05-07 11:15:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hehehehehe
what would be the fun of pointing out technical errors? oh well. +2