I wrote a short story, tell me what you guys think

renz20003

Platinum Member
Mar 14, 2011
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Monday.
That's it, I'm there. My first day in the elite brigade of the VCPD (Virtua City Police Department, they could still find another acronym). And of course it's raining. Pff, my brushing is going to be completely shot.

It is Captain Badass who welcomes

me. "Welcome Lieutenant Smarties, how are you?"

-Uh, it's Smarty, not Smarties, chef.

"Yes, it's the same, do you think you're happy that I didn't call you Snickers, ahahah!"

Hin hin, I had never been made that one. Ref's my desire to tell him that he looks a lot like a red M and M's, I ask him who my teammate will be.

"You're a lucky kid, Smarties, you're going to team up with Rage, it's our best item! Come as I introduce you, he must be taking a coffee..." BANG, BANG!

No sooner does the captain have time to finish his sentence than gunshots ring out. Panicked, I pull out my gun and throw myself under a desk. Surprisingly, I'm the only one.
"-Don't panic Smarties, follow me!"
Perplexed, I obey and follow the captain to the rest room, where I see a large taciturn brown in the firing position, his weapon still smoking. And the coffee machine riddled with bullets.

"What's going on Rage? Did the machine swallow your change again?"

"Affirmative, Captain, she refuses to comply. This is the third time this month, you know the rate for a repeat offence."

"Well, 'sigh,' let me introduce you to your new teammate, Smarties."

"Smarty chief"
"Yes yes. In short, Smarties, Rage, Rage, Smarties. Well, I'll let you get to know each other, I've got to do it."

As the chef walks away, I try to start a conversation with my colleague, who tries in vain to convince the machine to give him his coffee by tapping on it with the butt of his

revolver.

"Hum um. So you're a fan of Rage Against the Machine?" I try, taking off my best smile despite the huge drop of sweat that beads on my forehead.

As the only reaction, Rage turns his head very slightly towards me, raises an eyebrow, then without saying a word returns to his "activity" and ignores me completely.

It's going to be a long

day.
Tuesday.

First field trip with Rage. This guy is amazing, he answered all my questions about today's operation without ever uttering any words other than "Affirmative," "Negative" and "Grmpf." And the worst part is that I understood everything. Our mission: to clean up the docks where the men of Fang, public enemy number one, make their small trade. An easy mission, there are only 3rd-class minions, who barely know how to hold a weapon, discover themselves for no reason and attack one by one when there are dozens.

"I thought the great Stratewar was silly, but not in fact, apparently that's the norm"
Rage raises an eyebrow.

"You know, Goldorak, the Golgoths, who always attack one by one?"

He lowers his eyebrow and raises the other (is it possible?) grimacing.

My word, he's spent his whole life in a cave. "Let it go. So, why do we only have a poor six-shot as a weapon? It's a little cheap, isn't it?"
"Negative. Six shots is five more than it takes to neutralize an enemy."
He's not wrong. Every time Rage shoots, he hits the ground running, and he even manages to disarm the criminals without hurting them, just by touching their weapon. Colleagues call it the "Justice Shot." Pretty classy. Personally I prefer to shoot an enemy 3 times before he hits the ground. It's less classy but more fun. I call it the "3 Point Shot." Rage doesn't like it too much, he says his shot is more effective in the event of a scrum. I'll wait and see. That said if our gun sucks, this is not the case for the rest of our equipment: super car (note for later: never leave Rage at the controls of the auto-radio), bulletproof outfits that enhance our anatomy, and above all: super glasses that allow us to spot enemies easily, and especially to see if they are dangerous or not: if they are surrounded by a green crosshairs, no danger;



If it is yellow, you have to move a little; if it's red, it's about to shoot. Very practical.
Wednesday.
Debriefing of yesterday's (successful) mission. Two hundred and twenty criminals, um, neutralized, plus their leader, tons of weapons seized (damage that we can not keep them, I'm already tired of my petrel), and no civil loss. Yes! Tomorrow's goal: a quarry and the building where Fang is supposed to hide. The captain warns us that the men we face will be better trained, and that more attention will have to be paid to civilians.

"We don't get 5% loss of life, like in scout camps?" I dare.

Rage, as usual, is content to raise an eyebrow (increasingly high I feel, he will end up snapping something), while the leader looks up to the sky. Another gut. No big deal, I'm starting to get used to it.
Thursday.
The chief was right, this mission is a hell !!! The thugs are more numerous, aim better and are above all smarter: they manage to shoot us while remaining hidden! And that's without counting on these morons of civilians! They could hide behind their desks without moving, but nooooooooooooon, they have to suddenly get up and start gesticulating in every direction just in our line of sight! I don't know how Rage does to stay so calm in these conditions, when a simple coinor put him out of it the other day.

Fortunately, our opponents are letting a few weapons drag. Well sometimes you have to find them by shooting a little randomly, but believe me, get an automatic or a machine gun it relieves!

Eventually we managed to dismantle Fang's

gang. Do you believe me if I tell you that we shot down a helicopter with our poor little revolvers? Well, we did. The only black spot, Fang appears to have managed to get out of the wreckage of the aircraft before reinforcements arrived.

"Tell me, Rage, why are we the only ones who stormed when dozens of other police officers were available?"

"Ask the Great Strateguerre" he replies, pointing to our captain with a nod.

Finally I'm starting to like it my partner.

Friday.
Re-debriefing. Needless to say, the chief gave us a soap for letting Fang escape. So we're going to get a new teammate.

"Or rather a teammate" sneers the captain. "Guys, this is your new colleague, Janet!"

At this very moment, a redhead with a square cut enters the office. Pretty cute, but she has a I-don't-know-what that I don't like very much. Ah, I can't find the word...

"Hey," she exclaims when she sees us, "you had to tell me that I was going to team up with the Modern Talking, I would have prepared pictures for autographs".

"Morue" whistles at me Rage. Here's the word.

"Rage, Smarties, this is Janet, your new partner. She graduated major from Virtua City Police School with a master's degree in criminal psychology. Janet, Rage and Smarties are the two best elements of the brigade, they are our two best shooters."

"I'm waiting to judge on pieces," Janet replies, throwing an unambiguous eye to Rage, which remains as usual completely impassive. Aside from the interesting purple hue that wins his face.

Saturday.
The day before was difficult. On the one hand, Janet's incessant de-utterrations on modern investigative and profiling techniques had to bear the support of our colleagues who call us the Funny Ladies, in relation to our hair colour. Rage seems to be particularly affected. I think it's because, as he's brown, he takes on the role of Sabrina. But if, you know, the nerd of the gang. The ugly what.

And besides, "the defenders of justice don't know the weekends" the chief told

us. So when a robbery takes place at 8:00 a.m., who do we call?

"Siegfried, Roy, what's going on?" Asks Janet when we arrive at the police station.

"A jewelry heist in the 8th century.... Hey! That's enough for the nutty nicknames!"

"Oh it's okay, it's rather flattering, I've always fantasized about beautiful Scandinavians"
I raise

an eyebrow (tudieu, it's contagious!):"Beautiful gay Scandinavians?"

"It's up to you to prove me wrong..." she replies, while casting a terrible look at Rage. No doubt, if he blushes even more he will self-destruct.

"Um, criminals are attacking a jewelry store on 8th Avenue. There is a lot of evidence to show that they probably belong to Fang's gang," he replies at full speed, his eyes in the void.

And hop! Here we are on the way. Unlike those at the beginning of the week, this intervention is most interesting: after a car chase, we are on a luxury liner to free the mayor who had been taken hostage. Janet also has a style of her own: she shoots in the feet. I understand it, to see an ice cabinet armed to the teeth hopping on one foot before falling like a is pretty funny.

At some point we have to separate: I decide to take care of the kitchens, while Janet drags a Rage to the edge of the apoplexy towards the cabins.

It is already more than 16 hours when we deliver the

mayor. Fortunately I took advantage of my time in the kitchens to steal two-three things to scratch. We're getting a new call. "Terrorists are trying to blow up the subway, you're playing. Over " Yeah, it would be easier if we were told which station to go to. As if it wasn't painful enough; these idiots of civilians are more numerous than ever, besides I have removed three. Oh it's okay, the term "collateral damage" wasn't invented for nothing! In addition to the subway tangling atrociously, I'm close to neutralizing an enemy with pre-digested watermelons. Finally we find Fang, who tries to blow up a zeppelin. This guy's really evil. We manage to bring him down and save the city, but to our surprise, he manages to take the tangent again.

Still, the time for awards has arrived. Rage, the most skilful of us, is awarded the title of "Champion of Law and Order", while Janet and I are mere "Top Cops". In the end, that first week didn't go so badly.
 

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