Hello, hello, everybody! I have followed up on my promise from yesterday, and the new story has a dramatically short introduction. So go read Ruling The Streets right now! Tell your friends! Tweet it! Post on your Facebook! SPREAD THE WORD!

But I have something else for you, as, I dunno, a going-away present? This is the original first chapter, but I found it very rambling with no structure. This would never see the light of day if I didn't post it right now. So, without further a due, roll the clip!

"The most romantic a woman ever said to me in bed was; "Are you sure you are not a cop?""

Courtney Strike (Hateful Police Chief) was not pleased. Not pleased. In front of her was a bum, a cheat, a slimy, greasy, smelly, and all around terrible human being. Captain McMillan smiled at her, and winked. "How's it going Courtney?" He asked solely to spite her.

She snapped her pencil in half trying to control her anger, and resisted the urge to strangle the man on the other side of her desk. She had received a complaint sent directly to the front office. Bridgette, her Assistant Chief, knew that Courtney thought it her duty to deal with these things directly. That also entailed, unfortunately, dealing with the sleazy police captain.

She snapped back into her professional state. "The man that you pulled over today on Darfield Drive claims that you told him that you gave him a ticket because, and I quote, 'I don't like you.'" Courtney glared at Duncan.

"He gave me the stink eye!" Duncan defended himself.

Courtney shuffled papers on her desk. "You know, I'm not going to put up with this forever."

Duncan thought for a moment. "Okay," He reasoned. "Then how about I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner?" He suggested.

"You should know the answer to that by now." Courtney replied flatly. When Duncan didn't see anything, she followed up, "You're dismissed." He didn't move. "OUT!" Courtney screamed.

"Alright! You have such a temper," Duncan said, walking swagger out of her door.

Courtney's head crashed onto her desk. Bridgette Leaner (Helpful Assistant Chief) poked her head through the still open door. "I suppose you'll want another Advil, ma'am?" She inquired.

"Please," Courtney groaned.

Yeah, I do have bank robbers to catch, but that might be dangerous, so I'm going to play it safe and write you this ticket.

Noah was sitting at his desk, randomly doodling on a piece of construction paper. As far as he was concerned, his only duty was doing whatever Duncan told him to. He got away with it, too. He was just finishing his dandelion with devil horns and a goatee, when Cody burst into the office room. While Duncan was gone to have a conference with the chief, inherently Noah was in charge. This meant that all the responsibilities were his too.

"Detective Armstrong wants to see you sir!" Cody cried.

"Okay, okay, send him in." Noah said absentmindedly.

Cody pointed a shaking finger outside. "He wants to see you in the parking lot." He informed him.

"Fine, fine." Noah pushed out his chair, and followed Cody outside.

Harold Armstrong (Fallout Detective) was standing next to a rickety old car that looked like it would fall apart at any time. He didn't look pleased. "Do you see this?" He wheezed, as Cody shuffled back inside.

"It's a car…right?" Noah asked.

Harold corrected him, "A crappy car! I want one of those cool police cruisers that Captain McMillan has!" He complained.

Noah sighed. "Maybe you can ask Santa to leave it under the Christmas tree?" he suggested.

Harold slapped the hood. "That's not funny! I want the budget for a cooler ride! And one that plays music so I can be like Batman while I'm patrolling the streets!" He explained.

"Listen Armstrong," Noah sighed. "You haven't solved a case in three months. You haven't exactly earned it." He said.

"Fine, idiot!" Harold stomped away to his Nerd Cave or whatever.

"The garbage truck doesn't come until tomorrow! You can't just leave it here!" Noah yelled after him.

The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?

Brady, Duncan, and Eva all crowded behind one public mail box, looking onward to the incredible scene unfolding in front of them. Duncan gulped, pulling out his collar to try and sooth the sweat rolling down his collar. Eva clenched and un-clenched her fists repeatedly, the emotional strain was evident in the way she creased her eyebrow and set her jaw. Brady was the only one in the trio who seemed to be at ease. His shoulders were slack, and he was hunched over like Duncan.

Tyler gulped, and tried to suppress the shaking in his hands. He took a weary step forward, which brought him in front of Lindsay. She was following a cockroach's progress across

-End-

That's where I stopped writing. So guys, Operation: Shit Gets Real is in full swing. Go check out that story, once again, Ruling The Streets. I'll see you there! (I have also changed my penname to TheZombieJuice, so please don't be confused). TheZombieJuice, signing off!