Being Butch Green || ✓

Chapter 11 - The Doomed are Always Doomed

By the time I reached the park, I was in no fit state to even walk. I plopped down exhausted on the grass, breathing heavily. The sun found my face, filtering in through my closed eyes, turning them a funny shade of red and warming my already flustered face. Running is a very disabling activity when you aren't fit.

"What ya gonna do now?" a voice tantalised at me.

"Go away. Like seriously, just piss off already!"

I huffed, closing my eyes. This file had caused me so much trouble.

My mind now sat itself down in the police interview office. I fidgeted with my fingers, biting around the edges and trying not to let a nervous smiling episode break free. A pair of officers, dressed in their blue uniforms sat opposite me, glaring with an intensity I didn't like.

"So," the female counterpart began. "Why exactly were you defaming public property?"

I gulped. It's not like I meant to do it. Sometimes I can be a bit of a daredevil; not a very good one mind you.

"I-I-"

"You have nothing to say, Butch?"

"A repeat offender has nothing to say?" the male officer scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, that's new. The Green's have no excuse this time."

I looked between them. "Officer Haynes-"

"Oh, here we go..."

I stared at the male officer as he ran a hand through his hair in pity. "Office Buller. I did not defame the entire car."

"No?" Haynes asserted, raising her eyebrow at me. "Then who did?"

I shrugged. "Can't help ya there."

She scowled as her male partner leaned across the table. "How the fuck does a scrawny kid end up drawing a motherfucking penis on my cop car?"

"He was dared," I said, fidgeting more wildly. This was going badly - very badly indeed. It's not like I planned it. Someone called me a pussy and said I couldn't do it. Well, I could, I just didn't bank on getting caught.

I glanced across at my file as Officer Haynes filled it in and Buller scowled at me. Before Buller could scream the place down, Haynes grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the room. I looked back at my file, gritting my teeth.

If I got out of here with my file, none of this would have happened. A master ninja at work.

Nodding in agreement with myself, I leaned across the table and snatched the first file I could. I bolted for the door pulling it open and running for the exit of the police building with a chorus of police officers following like wasps behind me.

That was the first of many bad choices that had arisen from thinking I'd stolen the right file off the desk. I only wish this would end sooner. Perhaps I could bury the file in the dirt and go into hiding?

I felt a wet nose prod at the back of my pants, snapping me out of the memory. Like a bullet running from a gun, I opened my eyes and found a hoard of several small dogs invasively searching me with their snufflers.

"Go on! Go!" I said, swatting my hand at them. "Shoo! Begone thots!"

The more I swatted my hand at them, the more the cult of small chihuahuas got aggravated. They snarled and barked at me, their little sharp, savage, tiny flesh-hungry teeth snapping at my hand. I tried to stand up, but one latched onto me and I yelped in pain as I tried to pull it off; blood dripping out of the freshly made wound.

I leapt to my feet - the dog still dangling from my hand - and the papers on my lap fluttered to the ground. I glanced down at them, and I kid you not, one of the little shits began to squat. My eyes grew wide as the pain in my hand ceased to exist. A larger than average, fat chihuahua turd slowly made its way onto the file. It was then accompanied by a rather lovely yellow trickle of pee.