on July 27, 2015 by r.a.w. in Stories, Comments (0)

Another Day in Studio City

The guy sat there all shaggy hair and old clothes in front of the Union Bank on Ventura Boulevard. He was likely a bum; had a few things with him. Packages of some sort. Could almost smell him through the television set and then he pulled out a gun and  POPOPOP he fired into the air. Everyone has cameras everywhere so it was caught just like a movie. A bad movie. He carried on and eventually the cops came and surrounded him.

Everyone watched as POPOPOP he fired again up and around at nothing in particular and they smoked his ass right there and that was it for him. Protocol being what it is, the cops brought out a robot to inspect the packages, the idea being that the guy might have been a terrorist and the packages might have been bombs. They exploded the packages with the world watching and the bum’s equipment (ha) scattered everywhere, rags, paper, miscellaneous junk. They pulled the robot back in and waited for the CSI team to come.

By night the CSI team was doing their inspection and his body had been out in the valley heat for six or so hours, his body stinking worse, the blood dried black on the sidewalk. Some people still watched but not as many. There was too much to do and the guy was already dead. The action part was over and what was left was ugly and tedious. The guy hadn’t aimed at anyone save the cops so everyone knew what was going on, even if the cops had to wait and wait and follow all the rules. What did the guy care, baking there in the sun? Any way you slice it he got his reward.

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