A friend of mine claimed that none of his stories have happy endings. These are for you, Rob.
Stupor Troopers
Rob's life had taken a turn. He'd had more great sex in the past month than any other whole year of his life. Hell, probably more than any decade, even if one of his partners had turned out to have a penis. The shortage of drivers had led his dispatcher to give up their grudge and send him work, and he even had replaced his stolen jeans and underwear. He still jumped every time he saw any kind of law enforcement, especially highway patrol, but with Arizona three states behind him, he was feeling more comfortable by the day. This all led Rob to a very obvious conclusion.
Something bad was about to happen to him. He checked to make sure he'd taken his pills for the day, tossing back tomorrow's allotment just to be sure. Something really bad.
That was why, when a car came up fast behind him, its lights flashing, he didn't panic. He also wasn't surprised when, rather than deal with him at the roadside, they motioned him off the highway to a secluded, lightly forested area. He regretted his decision not to risk slipping back into California to take a woman there up on her very generous offer. But then, what was one more regret on a lifetime of them?
It was late evening, the light of an already set sun waning rapidly. The trooper that walked up to the cab wore the typical uniform of striped khaki's, brown uniform shirt, and a round brimmed hat. "Could you step out of the truck, sir?"
The guy was young, really too young looking to be a trooper. That probably just meant Rob was getting old. "What's the problem, officer? I'm sure I'm in compliance of all the rules and regulations of your fine state." Rob had never been much good at charming his way out of trouble. He wouldn't have bothered, except he didn't want to get out of the truck. That seemed like step one in never getting back in.
The kid was having none of it. His legs widened, taking on an aggressive stance right out of a western. "Could you step out of the truck, sir?" he repeated.
Well, shit,
thought Rob. Maybe, just maybe, if he complied, he wouldn't get shot. He got out of the truck. Another patrol car was approaching at speed.
The kid gave him a pat down, careful to avoid touching Rob anywhere that could be even remotely construed as sexual. The other trooper walked up, a man ten years older and a hundred pounds heavier. "What we got here, Kit?"
"I don't actually know, Darin. Pull over and detain. We're supposed to wait on Donnie."
"Did you frisk him?"
"Yup. He's clean."
"Even his private areas?"
"Well, 'course I did," Kit lied.
"Fag," Darin accused.
"You're the fag, always asking about it."
"Maybe you should do a cavity search."
"Fuck, you, man." Rob found himself somewhat relieved that they were waiting on this Donnie person. He wasn't sure these two wouldn't screw up and kill him delivering whatever indignity Rob had in store. It was a long wait. By the time Donnie pulled up, well after dark, there were six patrolmen there.
"Is this him?" the man asked. Rob felt the question was somewhat unnecessary. When they assured him that the man standing there handcuffed was, in fact, the man they had detained, Donnie added, "Did you frisk him?"
"Yeah. Kit got him. Gave him a good wank while he was at it." At that, Kit gave a howl of rage and tackled the other man. A brief scuffle, one that Rob would most accurately classify as a slap fight, concluded when Darin got poked in the eye. "Time out, God dammit."
"You two Nancies done with all that gay shit, now? We have some actual police duties to get to." He pulled up a clipboard he was carrying and flipped through a couple of pages. "Which, apparently, is to get some video of one of us buttfucking Rob here."
"Not it," said the officer with 'Tucker' embroidered on his shirt as he brought a finger to touch the side of his nose. The other officers followed suit.
Kit was the last to react. "Goddammit. Are we doing not-its or nose-goes?"
"I'm not sure it matters, Kit. You lose on both." Donnie tossed the clipboard onto the seat of his car. "Besides, you're the rookie."
"Lieutenant, doesn't this, you know, seem kind of gay?" Darin asked.
"Isn't it supposed to be ok to be gay now, anyway?" asked another officer.
"Brian, what are you, some kind of fucking liberal?" Donnie asked him.
Darin piled on, "Yeah, probably voted for Biden."
Donnie responded by grabbing Darin by the shirt collars and slamming him off the side of a squad car. "I will have none of that kind of talk. Do you hear me?"
Darin quickly retracted, "I was kidding. I'm sorry, Lieutenant. Brian."
Donnie held onto him for another few seconds, staring the man down. "Let's get the perp prepped, shall we?" Several of the men in brown grabbed Rob and bent him over the hood of a car. They then proceeded to cut away his jeans and underwear, exposing his ass to the cold night air, multiple spotlights illuminating the whole scene. "Kit, how's that erection coming?"
"You were serious about that?"
"Why are we doing this, anyway?" asked Brian. Rob, now with his cheek pressed against the metal of the car, heard them describe in detail exactly what he'd done to deserve this. "This is the guy? Shouldn't we be shaking his hand rather than buggering him? Who's asking for this anyway?"
"Arizona," came the simple answer.
"Oh, damn. You go hard, don't you Rob?"
"I don't think I can do this, Donnie." Kit had his fly open and was playing ineffectually with his flaccid penis.
"Can't we just shoot him in the head? Quick, easy, and kind of a mercy," Tucker offered.
Donnie was starting to sound frustrated with the whole business. "We don't just outright murder people."
"Since when?"
"Since they started making us wear these God damned body cams." Rob could hear the spittle leaving the lieutenants mouth as he shouted.
"Speaking of," added Brian, "shouldn't we probably turn them off?" A chorus of mumbles agreed with him as they all unplugged.
"Keep yours handy, Kit. We need to get this on film after all."
"Seriously, Donnie, I don't think I can do this. Maybe if we shaved his ass, but even then, it's just so... gay."
Donnie blew out a sigh. "Anyone feel up to this?"
When no one volunteered, Darin suggested hopefully, "It wouldn't be gay if we were in prison."
Donnie looked right at him. "Do you see any fucking bars around here?" Then, after thinking for a minute, he said, "You know what else would make this not gay? If Roxie did it."
"Begging your pardon, Lieutenant, but Roxie isn't exactly equipped for this," Brian pointed out.
"We'll send Kit up to Hot's to pick up what we need. I mean, come on, if this isn't the exact scenario they made us let a woman on the force for, I don't know what is."
Rob couldn't help but be pleased by this turn of events, even though he knew that whatever Kit brought back from the strip joint up the road was likely to outsize whatever the average state trooper had swinging between his legs. Roxie was radioed and arrived some time later, having been carefully talked through using her GPS after missing the exit twice. They were filling her in on the plan.
