I'm off on holiday tomorrow so I wouldn't expect anything for two weeks, but when I come back i promise i'll write the next chapter.

CHAPTER 4: OH SHI- (COPS' PERSPECTIVE)

"Uuuh....I'll have a coffee and a glazed doughnut please."
"And I'll have a coffe and chocolate doughnut."
LOLZILLA and dew smiled at the waitress as she wrote down the order.

"That'll be $5 Gentlemen."

Dew fumbled around in his pocket for some change, but failed to find any. "Hey 'zilla, can you get this one?"

"Y'mean like I usually have to?" he asked, shoving a bill into the waitreeses hand. She wandered off across the black and white checked floor of the small, retro diner.

People sometimes glanced across the room at the two detectives, looking worriedly at the colt 1911s and buzzing radios lain on the table, but they barely noticed any more.

"So Dew, heard you got yourself involved in the DeFranco case, how's it going?"

"Ah, not bad, but there's a few complications."

"What kind of complications?"

"Only that the judge we pulled is slightly left of Karl Marx and won't give me a warrant for shit!"

"Yeah, sucks when that happens, I had one case a few months back, I couldn't get warrant from the judge even though we had the victim's amputated hand with the address cut into the fuckin' thing. Sucked."

"Idiots like judge Fulp shouldn't be in power, I mean just because you're related to the President doesn't mean you're good at everything. It's high time this country realized that. I mean, the guy's an...Thanks darlin'."

The waitress had returned with the order. The officers sat in silence while they ate, appreciating the atmosphere and watching the traffic pass outside. The radios buzzed occasionally calling other units to scenes of crimes on the other side of the city.

Dew opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of the door bursting open and hurried footsteps.

"SOMEBODY HELP! THERE'S A BODY OUTSIDE!" Yelled a terrified voice from behind them.

"Sir! Sir calm down we're police officers!" LOLZILLA ran over to the man who had shouted.

"Ohmygod you have to help! Oh...oh my god..."

"SIR! Calm down and tell us where it is!"

The man took a deep breath, still shaking. His face was pale and full of fear. He was a young man, dressed in a green shirt and jeans.

"It's...it's...it's out...it's out there..." he pointed a trembling finger at the door.

"Let's go 'zilla."
"Right behind ya!"

They picked up their weapons and radios and ran toward the door.

The officers ran across the floor, dodging stunned onlookers, gawping at the events unfolding. Out of the door and into the rain-soaked street.

Lying on the sidewalk outside the diner was a naked and bloody corpse, laying in a pool of blood flowing into the street. A small crowd had formed around it, staring at their inevitable destiny.

Dew got on the radio while 'zilla cleared the crowd.

"This is alpha-two-kilo going code 3 on a 1-87 outside absent's diner, additional units and an RA requested, over."

Also, just out of opinion, after i do this story, I'd quite like to do a military-style one, opinions plz

I'm actually quite happy with this one, I think it's an improvement on the rest. But I'll not judge wether it's good or not, you guys are the audience, and as such, I'm your bitch....

CHAPTER 3: THE BODY...AND VOMIT. (CRIMINALS' PERSPECTIVE)

"I got one boss, but the uniform's got bullet holes in it."
"God you're a freakin' idiot!"
"What? What did I do?"
"I specifically told you NOT to fuck it up!"
"I didn't! Ya just gotta patch it up!"

Ghyfty paused, looking incredulous at Thimbles. He stared at him like he was about to leap on him and slice his throat with a rusty knife.

"...Boss?" Thimbles was getting nervous.
The boss let out a long sigh, relaxing the muscles in his weary face. He was an older man, with more experience than Thimbles. He'd been in and out of jail more times than the guards through the years, mostly just for minor offences like assault, but that didn't stop him.

"Alright let's see it." He said.
Thimbles led him round to the trunk of the car, and brought out his keys. He paused again.

"This is gonna be gross, he's been in there for twelve hours, you sure?"
The reply came not with words, but a swift bitchslap.
"I take that as a yes then."

He pressed a button on the key, and the trunk popped open a little, flashing lights at either side. Both men took a step back as they were hit with a foul smell from inside, coughing.

"Holy shit rookie! The hell you got in there?"
"Well it used to be a cop..."

Ghyfty pulled the top of his Blue T-shirt from his jacket and pulled it over his nose.
"Do this, it masks the smell a little."
Thimbles thought about making a "captain obvious" joke, but decided against it, considering the circumstances.

They lifted the loose trunk top, gagging and coughing.
"I told ya ya'd like it."

Hauling the bleeding corpse of a city police officer across the loading bay of BBR's at four in the morning was not an experience Thimbles would forget any time soon...unfortunately.

By the time he reached the stairs to the basement there was a trail of blood drops behind him and on his hands. His Jeans were covered in it too, thanks to the gaping exit wounds in the officer's back hitting his knees every time they took a step.

----------5:30AM NGT----------

"Hell, the motherfucker wouldn't even help me hose the blood off the ground!
"Yeah, Ghyfty can get like that when he's stressed." Said Ron as he passed another shot of General over the bar.

"You sure you should be drinking that much?"

"Aaaaaaaah I can handle it." Muttered Thimbles, in a somewhat slurred way.

"Nah I don't think you can, you're banned, no more posts for you for 12 hours at least. Don't try to wriggle out of it either or I'll throw you out for good! You have 11 hours 59 minutes and 59 seconds left."

"...yeah you're probably right, I'm gonna hit the road then."
Thimbles pulled himself up from the barstool and started staggering toward the exit.

"Hey!" Ron shouted at him.
"Yeah?"
"Don't go home, go to a hotel, the cops are buzzin' around like flies out there."
"Thanks Ro...was that GENUINE CONCERN? You're losing your edge old man! Yeah I'll go to a motel six. See ya."

And with that he staggered out into the empty street, looked up at the sunrise...and vomited on a streetlight.

...except in one respect, I choose when to write the next part! :P read and review please!

Dedicated to George Carlin, who died recently of a heart failure.

I'm postponing the rest of the userpage story for a week because this'll be up. I'm doing it because it affects our rights. Our basic rights.

link

It's not getting enough attention, and it needs it desparately. So click. now.

Post your feelings and opinions below plx.

: jk.

Dedicated to LampFace, for bugging me to get on with it.

Chapter 2: "yes sir?" (COPS' PERSPECTIVE)

"A'ight, I'll see you guys later, bring your wallets!"
"You can't bowl for shit Krbyfan1, and you know it!"
Krbyfan1 walked further away from his friend, continuing the conversation from further and further across the motor pool. He turned, satisfied that he had won the debate, to go out the vehicle entrance.

He noticed a hobo, sitting with a cap in one hand and an old newspaper in the other, he was wearing clothes that looked like they'd been worn way too many times.

"Hey buddy, got a dollar?" The hobo asked in a gritty voice, ruined by so many years of smoking bad cigarettes.

"Yeah man, here." He fumbled inside his pocket for some change, and finding a dollar bill, he let it drop into the man's hat.

"You're welcome, but you can't hang around here all night. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to move on."

The man sighed.

"Sure thing buddy." He said, gathering up his little belongings and shuffling away into the night.

It was a hard thing to do not to just let him stay, but the law's the law and he had to enforce it. No matter what.

He made a left onto the Cock Joke Plaza. Cars and busses sped past him, the people inside desperate to get to wherever they were going, so wrapped up in their lives they couldn't even take a look at the beautiful city around them.

You noticed so much ore when you walked in this town. The shadow of the Utah bridge looming over the great glass skyscrapers, the shops and coffee houses nestled in the corners of the streets, with an endless succession of cabs outside, sidling along like a yellow snake in a concrete jungle.

God this city was pretty at night.

He wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, but realized he was late.

"Agh, Gagsy is gonna fuckin' kill me."

He cursed himself for leaving the station so late and quickened his pace, ducking into a quiet alley he knew would take him home quicker. It was a sneaky shortcut he didn't like taking very often, the rats freaked him out.

They squeaked and scurried over every trash bag and every rusty old dumpster in, hiding from him in the dark.

The noise disguised the footsteps behind him.

"I wonder what she'll say...either way I'm fucking dead when I get home. Damn rats."

It covered up the noise of the silencer being fitted.

The figure behind him stopped shadowing him and shouted. "Officer!"

Krbyfan1 spun round on the balls of his feet "Yes sir how can I...."

Three rounds from the silenced colt 1911 slammed into his chest. He froze, looking into his killer's eyes, a look of shock, and pain plastered on his face. He finally sank, slowly, to the ground.

The figure regarded the body, a pool of blood starting to form around him. He reckoned it was useable. He knelt down next to the empty shell of what was once a fine police officer, put the arms over his shoulder, and heavily stood up.

He dragged the limp body around the corner into a garage. A silver ford mondeo waiting, silent.

The figure pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the trunk. Dragging the former man over to it and stuffing him inside. The trunk closed with a bang, echoing across the plaza.

"For the kids." Thimbles thought as he started the car.

I know, it sucks ass.

Chapter one: "Yes, godfather." (CRIMINAL'S PERSPECTIVE.)

Note: I really don't think this is the best opening chapter I can do, so need some good feedback, leave a comment/review please, and con we keep it constructive, I don't need "LOLOMGUSUK." comments, I need "You need to improve blahblahblah, but i liked blah." kina comments

The sun bled red over Newgrounds City, casting ominous shadows across the busy streets. Thimbles stood across the street from BigBadRon's little sidewalk café.

It was a small, innocent looking place with bright umbrellas protruding from the bushes that surrounded the little outdoor dining area, backing on to a small red-brick building with "BBR'S" emblazoned on the wall in neon lights.

He admired the place; it had a simple charm to it, which appealed to him.

Thimbles' thoughts returned to him as he snapped back to reality "Should I go in? It's not too late to turn back, you could go straight! Get a Job and start earning some money you didn't have to launder before using...nah, not gonna happen any time soon."

With that he crossed the street, and entered the building. There was a small bar and some tables inside, with brilliant white tablecloths draped over them at an angle, and assorted condiments on the table. On any other day he would've loved to sit down and have the balding bastard of an ex-cop wait on him hand and foot, but this evening was different...very different.

"Hey Ron! It's Thimbles!" he shouted, leaning over the bar and helping himself to a quick spray of "general" from the taps, a highly addictive, mind-rotting drink that had you hooked after one sip, or as Ron liked to call it, a "post".

No answer came. "Ron you bald fuck!"
"Geez, alright I'm coming!" came the reply.

The man appeared almost from nowhere, startling Thimbles.

"Jesus Ron ya scared the shit outta me there!"
"So? They're in the back room."

He motioned to the back of the restaurant, which looked a lot less inviting than the rest. A worn out, dusty old wooden door was nestled in a dark corner lit only by the single flickering bare light bulb swinging gently in the ambient breeze.

The sight of it filled Thimbles with dread, without warning his stomach started doing somersaults. "Suck it up man, you gotta do this...for the kids." He thought. Steeling himself, he walked toward the door, mumbling a thank you to Ron.

It creaked open before he could open it, revealing an almost pitch dark, cellar like room, with a row of tables from the main restaurant, without the cloths. Three men, older than himself were sitting at one of them, wearing double-breasted suits. Thimbles felt strangely underdressed in his blue and white pinstripe shirt and jeans.

"Take a seat." Said the man in the middle, a hint of malice in his voice.
Thimbles obeyed.

"Every man has a motivation to break the law, people don't just do it for the fun of it. What's yours?"

A bead of sweat rolled down Thimbles' forehead, his hand trembling under the table with nerves.

"Well, Cigolini, I do this for my kids, their mom died a few...a few years ago, and the welfare just isn't enough to cope."

"Hmm...so you need the money"

"Yes, godfather, and with this they'll be...they'll be set for life."

Silence reigned. The seconds seemed to pass by like hours as Cigolini considered him, staring intently at him, trying to break his nerve. Looking for a sign that he wasn't good enough.

He broke eye contact, and tried to stop shaking, but he couldn't, his foot started moving under the table, along with his hands. Dark patches had appeared under his armpits from sweat.

"God Hope I get this..." he said inside his head.

"Why isn't he talking?"

More silence. One of the other men whispered in the Don's ear, which seemed to make him lose concentration, he addresses the henchman.
"You really think so Camboch0?"
Camboch0 nodded.

"You're in."

I'm going to start this thing now, but I have to go away for the weekend so I won't be able to respond to any feedback left on friday until sunday...which sucks because I love attention.
This story is told from two different perspectives, from the theifs' and the cops'.

But this is the prologue.
3 weeks later.

"BULLSHIT!" LOLZILLA slammed his fist down hard on the steel interview room table, making ghyfty jump slightly in his seat.

He paused, walking slowly around the table, eyeing the suspect up. Questions wandered through his mind, "why is he lying? what's he trying to cover up?"

He stopped his slow, deliberate circle directly behind ghyfty, placing his hands on the back of the seat and leaning over him.

Another pause.

"Listen to me. You're in serious trouble here man, this isn't some unpaid parking fine we're talking here. This is grand larceny...and multiple counts of murder. At least three of those people were police officers."

The terrified suspect was still staring straight ahead, fixated on the door. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. He was shaking so much the chair itself was moving, squeaking occasionally on the bare metal floor.

'Zilla leaned closer in on him. So close he could see the sweat on his face.

"So don't you ever...ever, try to fuck with me."

I guess it's pretty clear now that CR won't be getting back to me any time soon. And you guys have made it clear exactly what you want.

I'm doing it.

In other news I got made an admin on NGX (might wanna pay it a visit sometime) and found out I was a cop.

So newgrounds, your Monday question of the week is "D'ya like my new header and sig?"

I just looked at my inbox. It's been one month and five days since christmasraptor was last online. Some of you (mainly the cast) will know we were planning to co-author a userpage story. Unfortunately since he's not shown any signs of life for a whole month, I have to consider making it a solo effort. i don't want to do that, I never did, but taking into account the fact that it's been this long since he even contacted me...I have to consider it.

I can't decide for myself because of a conflict of interest (I like the guy and we said we'd do it together, but the audience is waiting and time waits for no man), so i turn to you, the people who'll actually be reading it.

Should I try and go it alone?

After a week or so, I'll count up the yes/no comments and make my decision based on the numbers.

Thank you.

EDIT: May 12th 2008.

God, the deadline came that soon...CR, you have two more days....where are you? Just friggin' contact me! Show some signs of life!

2 days. I appreciate any and all yes / no comments.

I <3 YOU ALL.

BWIPBWIPBWIPBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
!!! BEE BOO BEE BOO!!!