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"Where the hell did he go?"
Officer Greg Jameson had followed the suspected bank robber’s car to this residential neighborhood. The suspect had jumped out of the car and run down the lane way between the houses. Greg had raced after him, hoping that back up arrived soon, but now the guy had disappeared. Then he heard the tinkle of breaking glass from one of the houses. Aha, I’ve got him, he thought. Adrenaline surged through his veins. This would be a nice step towards promotion, if he caught this guy, especially if he caught him by himself. Greg tried the gate leading into the backyard. Damn! It was locked. He looked at the fence – it wasn’t that high, he could get over it. He reached up, and grabbing the top of the fence, he began to pull himself up. Ouch! He hadn’t intended on falling over in quite that way, but there was no one to see his embarrassing tumble, and the important thing was that he was now in the yard. Shit, his radio was gone! It must have been torn loose as he scrambled over the fence. That must have the clanging sound he heard – it was his radio falling into that empty garbage can. He realized that in his excitement, he hadn’t radioed in the address. Sarge would have his ass when he found out. But….if Greg could capture this criminal, that wouldn’t matter. All the mistakes that he had made as a raw rookie would be forgotten…he hoped. After all, none of the reports on the radio had mentioned that this guy was armed. Ha, he was probably hiding out in that house, shitting bricks. Arresting him would most likely be like taking candy from a baby. Sarge was a big old worrywart. Nothing bad had happened to Greg during the few weeks he had been on the XXXX. Unless you included the unfortunate incident in the Krispy Kreme parking lot, but that had been an accident, it could have happened to anyone.
Greg pulled out his XXXX, and started up the steps to the back door. He could see shattered glass lying on the doorstep. Yep, this was the right house. The felon was inside there, probably cowering in a closet, hoping that no one would find him. He wouldn’t be cowering for much longer, that much was sure. Greg would capture him, and be the hero of the day. His mother would be so proud, and he would have his pictures in the newspaper and…Oooops! Gee, the owners of this house obviously didn’t take care of their property. A well-maintained step would never have cracked like that. There were probably termites chewing away at every piece of wood in the house. Too bad it had made so much noise. But Greg wasn’t worried. By this time the rookie had convinced himself that the felon would throw himself at Greg’s knees, begging for mercy.
Greg nudged open the back door, and peered inside. Empty. Just as he had expected. He scanned the room and edged inside. Even if the bad guy was hiding inside a closet, Greg intended to be careful. He didn’t want any nasty surprises springing out at him. Now he rather wished that he had waited for back up, or had at least opened the gate and retrieved his radio. He was aware of sweat breaking out on his brow, and what was that noise he could hear? Was it his teeth chattering? He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was a COP! He was a brave, macho cop, about to apprehend a dangerous criminal. Oh gosh, he hoped this guy wasn’t TOO dangerous. Please, please, he thought. Don’t let him have a XXXX. Maybe he just handed over a note to the teller, and threatened her with a banana in a paper bag, pretending that it was a XXXX. Yeah, that was it. Greg felt a bit better as he visualized that scenario. He was SURE that the reports over the radio hadn’t said armed and dangerous. He took a deep breath and inched further inside the house. The floor creaked and he jumped. These old houses, always settling and making strange noises. It was silly to be afraid of the noises, unless …..Greg gulped, the noise was accompanied by the feeling of cold metal pressing into your temple.
"My, my. What do we have here? A cop! And a baby cop at that. When did they start taking recruits from kindergarten?"
In a trembling voice, Greg said; "You’re under arrest. ….OUCH!"
"I’m under arrest, am I? I don’t think so, pig.  We don’t want anyone getting hurt, do we piggy wiggy? Or are you going to huff and puff and blow the house down?"
Greg’s XXXX feel from his hands, his fingers feeling lifeless. Oh shit, oh shit, he was in trouble, big time trouble. He wanted Sarge!
"On your knees, cop, nice and slow. Don’t make any sudden moves – I would hate to have to hurt a little baby cop like you. That’s good. Now put your hands behind your back."
Greg fell to his knees, sweat running down his body. He was so afraid that he thought he might piss himself. He could see it now. His picture would be in the papers, but…not the way he had hoped. He could see the headlines . ‘Rookie cop XXXXned down.’ Oh hell and damnation, why hadn’t he waited? He clenched his teeth, trying to stop them from chattering together. He didn’t want this guy to see how frightened he was. He slowly brought his hands behind his back. He didn’t dare turn around as he felt the bad guy rummaging around in his duty belt. He knew what the guy was after. Yep, he knew he was right. Greg felt the cold steel of his own cuffs fasten around his wrists. He bit down on his lower lip, attempting not to cry out in pain. The bastard had fastened them way too tight.
"OK, piglet, let’s go for a little walk. I want to make you nice and comfy. "
Greg was helpless to resist as the robber hoisted him to his feet. With the XXXX pressing into his back, he stumbled into the living room. He almost fell over a small footstool that stood in the middle of the floor.
"Stop right there, piglet. Why don’t you have a seat and make yourself comfortable?"
Greg turned around, and lowered down onto the stool. Just as he sat down, he heard voices through the broken window. "Jameson, where the hell are you? Jameson!"
Greg opened his mouth to yell for help. "MMMMPHHH!" He XXXXd as the barrel of the XXXX was shoved into his mouth. "Now, I have to warn you, that wouldn’t be a smart move, piglet. I would have to blow off your head if you yelled, and then I would have to shoot Pooh Bear and Eeyore, too. You wouldn’t want that, would you, piglet?"
"GGGMMNOOO. MMMNOSHOOTMPLISS."
"Good boy. Now you just sit there nice and quiet, like a good baby cop, until all that noise goes away. Do you understand me?"
"MMMPYESH!" Greg couldn’t nod his hand, with the XXXX jammed into his mouth, but he hoped that the robber could understand his garbled speech. Eventually the voices faded away into the distance; the other guys must be searching for him further down the lane way. The robber pulled the XXXX out of Greg’s mouth. "That was very good, cop. Let’s get down to business. I found some useful stuff in that closet, while I was waiting for you. They sure don’t teach you guys how to be quiet in the academy, do they? I thought that a herd of elephants was after me, not just one baby cop. However, that doesn’t matter. Here you are, and here you’re going to stay. Once I’ve made sure that you will keep quiet and won’t run away."
Greg gulped as the bad guy pulled a roll of black tape out of his bag. Oh shit, this guy was going to gag him. Greg whimpered as the tape was wound round and round his head, pressing his lips against his teeth. Yuck, it tasted nasty.
"Hmm, that looks much better. I think you need one more piece, right here. Great. That should keep you quiet. And just to make sure you don’t go running away in search of your cop friends, this should keep you in place on that nice comfy stool."
Greg groaned as rope was wound his chest and forearms. Darn, why did this guy have to tie it so tight? It hurt. More rope went around his thighs and his ankles, firmly anchoring him to the stool.
"Don’t you make a nice package, cop. I wish I could stick around and wait for your friends to find you, but I do have to make a get away. I’ll just find some clothes to change into, and I’ll be on my way. It’s too bad that you aren’t closer to my size. No one would stop a cop! But you’re just a bit too small. Have fun, cop!"
Grrr, who did this guy think he was, making fun of Greg’s size? He had passed the requirements for the XXXX and that was all that mattered. The robber wasn’t going to get away with this! Greg would get free of these ropes, and he would catch the guy before he left the house! Oh, these ropes were tight, way too tight. Ouch, and so were his cuffs. Greg tried to lurch to his feet, and sat down again. OK, that wasn’t going to work, not with his legs and thighs tied to the stool. He would just have to break it into pieces. It couldn’t be that difficult. It hadn’t looked too sturdy to him. All he had to do was rock back and forth again, the legs would break, and then he could free of the rope. His hands might be a bit more difficult, but with his legs free, at least he could get out of the house and warn the other guys.

Greg started rocking the stool. OH SHIT! That wasn’t supposed to happen. Oh, that hurt. At least he had fallen on to a nice thick rug. Greg kicked his legs, and thrashed around on the floor, trying to break the stool, or to somehow dislodge it. Maybe he could slide the ropes that bound his ankles off the legs of the stool. That would be a start. He thumped and struggled, but to no avail. Darn, this wasn’t going to work either. What now?

Greg started crawling across the floor on his stomach, dragging the stool with him. It wasn’t easy with his legs and feet tied to the stool. Inch by painful inch, he made his way across the floor. He was panting with exertion, drenched in sweat. The stool didn’t seem quite so flimsy now, as it lay on the back of his legs. Gee, it must weigh a ton! He took a break, lying panting on the floor. He heard a commotion in the back yard, and then footsteps thundering up the back steps, accompanied by a crashing sound and curses. Yep, definitely termites in those steps.
"JAMESON!"
"MMMHISARGE."

THE END

Officer Jameson played by Rod
Photography by Caitiff

Date of Production: 12/04/2003