The Burger King Did It
I responded to a domestic violence call to the 2600 block of Harness St. at approximately 2:50am this morning. The 911 emergency caller was a woman who claimed her next door neighbor has murdered someone, and there was screaming in the next house.
We rolled code-blue to the address in question, a block-and-mortar mansion, complete with parapets and a decorative draw bridge. The bridge was up but the side door was open, so my partner Sgt.D and I approached the moat with flashlights and guns drawn.
Before we could get halfway there, this broad comes screaming across the draw bridge as it falls across the moat. Her hair is on fire and she trying to beat it out with what appears to be a scepter of some sort, knocking herself silly in the process. Before we can even yell a warning, she pitches herself into the moat! I holster my weapon to get her out of the water, then continue toward sounds of...a football game?
As I’m walking across the bridge, this crazy looking guy in a red robe and gold pants throws a football at me and starts doing some crazy endzone dance. He was wearing this huge grin that never changed – later, I’ll be told this is due to botox gone bad – and prancing around the frontyard. He dives into the bushes as I reach for my gun, coming up with some kind of weapon.
A huge gout of flame spans the distance between the “king's” flamethrower and his wife, setting her on fire again.
“You said you wanted flamebroiled, not Kentucky Fried you whore!” screamed the King. “Have it your way!”
I put three rounds through his gap-toothed grin and tried to put the chick out again. It turned out to be his wife, the Dairy Queen. The King had caught her banging Colonel Sanders and shoved a rotisserie up his ass before chasing the queen around the mansion.
What a way to start the day.
Say hello to my little friend!
