Bully, turned best friend, turned lover?! - A Greg Jenko Love Story

Transferred

Walking through the station with a huge sense of triumph, the two boys were pumping their fists at the impressive arrest as we made our way to the commissioner’s office. The guys were pretty sure that it was because of a promotion off park duty but I thought otherwise.

Walking into the office, I was apprehensive.

“Sit,” the commissioner demanded, gesturing to three chairs.

“Okay,” said Greg, whilst Morton nodded and I just sat.

“We were forced to drop the charges,” the commissioner dived right in, “Because you forgot to read him his Miranda rights!” he stated, gesturing to Greg, before continuing, “How can you not do the only thing you have to do when making an arrest?”

“Wait, I did read him his rights,” Greg defended, before saying, “Well.... a version of them.”

Previously, I had been staring at the floor, but at this, my head snapped up so that I could glare at Greg.

“What do you mean ‘a version’?” I inquired, but gaining no answer from Greg.

“Do you even know the Miranda rights?” asked the commissioner.

“Yes,” Greg muttered.

“Let’s hear them then,” challenged the commissioner, “It is four declamatory sentences and a question: a total of 57 words.”

Greg hesitated a bit, and I was looking at him with a ‘Go on’ sort of look.

“Well it starts, ‘You have the right to remain silent’ you’ve probably heard this all before, then... erm...”

“You have the right to an attorney,” Morton supplied, in a whisper.

“Yeah that... you have the right to remain an attorney...” Greg stammered.

I smashed my head into my hands in defeat.

“Wait... did you just say he has the right to be an attorney?” asked the commissioner, disbelievingly.

“Well you do have the right to be an attorney... if you want,” Morton said.

“What were you doing when all this cracked off?” asked the commissioner, turning the attention to Morton.

“Chasing down my perp,” murmured Morton.

“And how did that go?” asked the commissioner.

“Erm, he got away,” said Morton, causing the commissioner to sigh in sarcastic sympathy, “And I fell over. It hurts because all the dirt got mushed up in my elbow.”

Then the commissioner flicked it, and Morton yelped.

“And you girly,” he turned to me, “You caught your guy, yes?”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

“And you read him his Miranda rights?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well done. The only reason you’re in here is because I doubt that these two pillocks could survive without you.”

I nodded, slightly confused as to what he meant.

“Luckily for you two,” the commissioner turned back to Greg and Morton, “They’re revising an old 80s programme where you go undercover,” then he went on explaining what it was.

“One involves sending in immature-seeming officers,” concluded the commissioner.

“Are you gonna send us into some kind of child sex slavery ring or something then?” asked Greg, making me look across at him in disbelief.

“Sir, I will suck somebody’s dick if I have to... but I’d prefer not to,” offered Morton, turning my disbelieving look to him.

“That’s exactly the kind of creativity they need!” exclaimed the commissioner, “So the three of you are officially transferred!”

“Where should we report?” I asked.

“37 Jump Street,” he said, “... Wait, that doesn’t sound right.... oh yeah, 21 Jump Street.”