Standard Encounters with Law Enforcement

"What is it?" Imogene asked, looking at Moss with concern.

They were sitting on a bench next to the cloakroom door. Moss's head had jerked sideways, as though he had heard something very unusual.

"Moss—" Imogene began.

"Sh!" he said quickly. "I heard something."

"Well, obviously, but—"

Then Imogene heard it, too. It didn't take her long to figure out what it was.

"Oh my God," she churned, throwing a hand over her mouth. "Which...end is that?"

Moss scowled. "It seems that Roy thought it was time to feed the baby birds."

"Either that or he shat all over the walls," Richmond chimed in from a dark corner. "I really can't tell the difference."

"Blegh!" Imogene winced, shaking her head so her ponytail bounced all around. She shoved her face between her legs so her ears were pressed to her knees. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Out of the blue, a few chimes of bad rock music from 2005 began to play, and Richmond pulled his flip phone out of his pocket. "Bloody hell. It seems that someone has stolen something at Cool Subject."

Imogene perked up. "Oh no!"

"Perhaps I should go sort this out. I'll be right back."

"Yeah, you go do that."

"We'll hold the fort," said Moss.

Richmond left down the hallway, speed dialing Cool Subject as he walked away.

"And then there were two," Imogene said in a deep voice.

The sound of Roy expelling the contents of his stomach emanated from the bathroom again. Moss and Imogene exchanged looks, and Imogene let out a small laugh.

"This is no laughing matter," Moss said gravely.

"It is a little bit," she giggled. She realized she'd been looking at him too long and blushed a little as her eyes left his. She pressed the toes of her shoes together and licked her lips.

"Do you think we should go in there after him?" Moss said nervously.

She turned back to him. He was staring at her with an urgent expression on his face. His 'war general' mentality had dissipated, it seemed, for he had a hand on each knee and he was nervously clinging to the fabric of his pants with his fingers.

"I don't know," she answered. "I think he's fine. Maybe that's just the sound of him squirting the chocolate bottles. Plus bathrooms can be pretty echo-ey..."

Moss frowned again. "Maybe. But I don't want to take any chances."

"What are you going to do? Give him Pepto Bismol?"

"I'm not carrying any Pepto Bismol."

"Imodium?"

"Don't carry that either."

"Well, then we're pretty much screwed. Or he is."

Moss gasped. "Language!"

She frowned. "What? 'Screwed'?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, please. 'Screwed' isn't bad."

"Wha--You said it again! You bloody said it again! Can't I get a moment's peace today?"

"Okay, okay! I won't say it again."

"I would hope you wouldn't."

"I don't swear that much anyway. At all. That's the worst I do."

"Well, at least you're not as bad as some. I know some real men who curse every other word. But you seem to be a rather upstanding individual."

Imogene straightened herself. "Oh. Am I?"

"Why, yes. I think you've proven yourself quite a bit these past few weeks. You're a very nice person. You know about comic book things. And you're only the third person I've ever worked with at Reynholm Industries who knows the basic laws of computers."

"Ah, the three basic laws: turn it off and on again, check if it's plugged in, and then call IT."

He laughed. "That's what someone who doesn't know about computers would say. Like Jen!"

"Haha! You're right!"

"HEY!" said a voice.

Imogene and Moss both turned to see a security guard standing in the hallway before them. They both froze.

"What are you two doing?"

He wasn't a big guy, but he had a deep guttural voice that was extremely intimidating.

"Oh, God," Imogene whimpered.

"I heard some strange noises," he grunted. "What's going on over here?"

Her eyes widened. "Uh..."

"Are you two up to some funny business? Buggering about in the cloakroom? You better not be making a mess!"

"UHHHHHH..." Imogene looked to Moss, who was frozen solid. His eyes kept moving from the policeman to the floor to the cloakroom door. "We...we're..."

There was one more horrible noise that sounded like Roy had just thrown up his intestines themselves, and the guard winced in disgust.

"Are you his mates?" he asked them.

Moss curled his lips over his teeth and avoided all eye contact.

"Oyez! I asked you a question!"

"HE HAS IRRITABLE BOWEL SYNDROME!" Imogene yelled a little too loudly.

A weird squirting noise came from behind the door, which abruptly ended and was followed by the sound of something being repeatedly slapped and Roy sobbing, "GET OUT OF THERE! COME ON! JUST GET ON OUT OF THERE! I REALLY NEED TO GO!" Then the squirting resumed.

Moss and Imogene stared at the security guard, who was turning slightly green.

"It's very bad," Imogene said.

The police officer shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Should we go in there and...help him?"

"It's best you don't," Moss whispered seriously. "You'll just make it go back in."

"COME ON NOW," Roy shrieked. "GET ON OUT OF THERE, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SHITE! DON'T THINK I'M GOING TO GO UP IN THERE AND PRY YOU OUT WITH MY FINGERS!"

Everyone stared at the door. Just then, an old woman emerged from the ladies' room and began inching her way down the corridor. Imogene covered her mouth with her hand.

"WHY ME?!" Roy sobbed. "WHY ME?! WHY TODAY?! WHY DID YOU—OH, YOU GOT IT ALL OVER MY HANDS! AND MY JACKET! OH, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!"

"Oh, dear me!" the lady said.

"Don't mind the poor fellow, ma'am," the security guard said. "He's just doing some...cleaning in there."

"More like the opposite of cleaning," Imogene mumbled.

"Excuse me?" the man said. She stared at him. "Did you just mouth off?"

"Great!" Moss whispered. "Now you've gone and done it, Imogene! We're done for! We're getting arrested!"

"I've never met a policeman before! Never outside of kindergarten class, anyway!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

The next squirt was so loud it shook the walls, and it was followed by a few more short, sporadic squirts, and one that felt as though it lasted for a full minute. Then Roy cried, "OH, SWEET JESUS!"

"Is somebody praying?" asked the old woman.

"Shut up!" said the security guard, who turned back to Moss and Imogene. "Does he really have irritable bowels, or are you just making it up for a laugh?" The two were silent again. "Oyez!"

"What about Simon Cowell?" asked the old lady.

"You two are coming down to the office with me," said the security guard. "And once your friend gets out, you're both going to explain this whole thing to me in great detail."

The door to the cloakroom suddenly burst open, whacking the poor old woman in the face and throwing her to the floor. There Roy stood, his entire jacket and some of his jeans covered in chocolate sauce, and his entire face streaked red with tears. He couldn't seem to keep his balance, and staggered into the wall.

"Oyez!" cried the guard.

"The horrors I experienced in there," Roy choked out. "I do not want to relive."

The security guard pulled out a club and began furiously beating Roy with the fire of a thousand suns. Roy shrieked and collapsed to the floor as the officer yelled, "This is for the old lady!" and Imogene screamed, "Police brutality!"

"I'm going into Moss's happy place!" said Moss, covering his ears and singing the Spider-Man theme song.

"Help me!" cried the old woman.

"Call 911!" Roy sobbed.

"That's the American one!" Moss corrected. "You've got it all wrong! Spider-Man Spider-Man does whatever a spider can—"

"I'm back!" said Richmond, appearing in the corridor.

"You vagrant!" cried the old woman, who stood up and began beating him ferociously with her purse.

"Ow! Hey! What did I do?"

"You filthy hooligan!"

"You have a lovely skull—oh!"

"AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" Imogene cried, covering her face with both hands. "Sensory overload! My nose is bleeding! "

With a screeching vampiric hiss, Richmond lurched towards the security guard and threw him off of Roy, pinning him to the ground and burrowing his face into the man's neck. Imogene let out a muffled scream. The old lady continued beating Richmond, while Roy passed out on the floor.

"He's going to kill him!" Imogene cried.

"SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN!" Moss continued.

"Help! Moss!" She shook his shoulder with her blood-drenched hand. "Richmond is going to kill that man!"

"Quiet down! I'm in my happy place!"

"Moss! Wake up!"

"GAHHHH!!!!"

Moss stood up in a flash, tipping over the bench and pushing Imogene backward. From his right jacket pocket, he pulled out the revolver he had stolen from Douglas Reynholm, which he waved in the air above his head like a madman.

"I'VE GOT A GUN! I'VE GOT A RUDDY GUN!"

"AAAAAGGGHHH!!!" cried the old lady, who fainted and fell against the wall.

All went silent. The lights in the corridor flickered. Blood, chocolate sauce, and adult diapers littered the ground. There was a churning as Imogene's nose gushed again.

Richmond perked up from the unconscious body of the security guard. He stood and touched his fingertips to his forehead. "I'm not sure what came over me. Is everyone alright?"

"Roy's unconscious," said Moss, shoving the revolver back into his pocket. "We might have to carry him out."

"Where'd you get a gun?" Imogene blubbered, her hand shooting to her face again.

"Oh, Imogene!" Richmond crooned, reaching for her. "You're injured. Let me help—"

"I'M FINE, THANK YOU!" she said quickly.

Moss sighed. "We're outlaws now. Life will never be the same."

"WHERE THE FIDDLEJUMPS DID YOU GET THAT FREAKING GUN?!?!"

"I found it in Douglas' desk!" Moss said gaily. "I used it against some bullies that were giving me a hard time. Never saw them in the park again!" He flashed her a smile.

"Here," said Richmond, handing Imogene a black piece of cloth. "Use this for your nose."

"Oh. Thank you, Richmond. That's very sweet of you."

There was silence again. The lights went out for thirty seconds and then came back on.

"I think we should—" Moss began.

"Let's go," Imogene interrupted. "I'll help get Roy."

"Oh, no. Don't be silly."

"Like you two can carry him."

"Right. Yeah. You help."