This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
***
Part 8 - Raw Judicial Power
"Did you hear me?" Judge Harry R. Nance yelled into State Patrol Captain Cortese's face. "Shut this shit down!"
"No!" declared Acting Chief Abram. "Your order is not lawful. This rally is legal!"
"You're full of shit, kike!' yelled Nance. He turned to Cortese and said "Well? What are you waiting for?"
"Hold on, there!" a voice called out. Walking up to Nance was Sheriff Griswold, with Carole Troy in tow. The Sheriff was still wearing his tan sweatshirt with the Clan Crowbar icon, and Carole was still wearing her white sweatshirt with the same icon. But the Sheriff was also displaying his badge on his belt.
He patted Abram on the back and said "I've got this, Chief Abram." He squared up to Nance and said loudly "I am the supreme Law Enforcement authority in this County. We do not obey unlawful orders, nor will I permit unlawful orders to be followed!"
Nance looked apoplectic, as if his head literally might explode. "You heard me, Cortese!"
"I heard the Sheriff, too." said Captain Cortese. "And he's right: he's the ultimate law enforcement authority for this County. We will follow his orders over yours."
"Yeah." said a six-year-old girl who was standing in front of the Sheriff, her little arms crossed. "And you're a mean person!"
"Why you little..." Nance snarled and actually reached his hands out as if to grab her. A lot of Police Officers were moving to jump in and stop him, but they stopped when they saw a red crowbar appear in front of Nance's neck, held by the man behind Nance, a man who's face matched Nance's in purposeful anger.
"You touch my daughter, Nance," I whispered (though loudly) into Nance's ear, "and I will
kill
you, right here in front of allll these people."
Nance was stunned at first, then recovered as he turned to face me. "You son of a bitch!" he snarled. "I'm going to have your badge for this! I'm a judge! You'll be in jail for Contempt, if not assault!"
"Bring. It. On." I snarled right back into Nance's contorted face. "I'm a father that will protect my daughter by beating you to death if you touch her. Now this is
my
First Amendment Rally, and you are not welcome here. Get out."
"God damn you to Hell, Troy!" Nance snarled.
"You'll be there first, opening the door for me." I replied. Nance stalked off back to the Courthouse, his face beet red with furious anger.
"Good job, Fussbudget." I said as I fist-bumped Carole. "Thank you, Sheriff, Chief Abram." I fist-bumped them, then the other Officers and State Patrolmen at the scene.
"Gotta admit," Griswold growled, "I loved doing that, standing up to that piece of crap. Oh, sorry about having Carole here, but I didn't see her mother and had to move fast."
"It's okay, Grandpa Grizz!" Carole said happily. "I wouldn't have missed that for the world!" Everyone burst out laughing at that...
Part 9 - The Party Never Stops...
The Sheriff, Carole, and I began making our way back to the flagpole and the statue of President Jefferson. When we got there, we told my Angels what had happened with Nance. Teresa said "Excuse me!" and began running towards City Hall.
Moments later, we found out what the Iron Wolf had done: a country music singer, Trace Brown, who often performed at the Country Music Palace, came on stage. He was also a cancer survivor at 34 years old. And then the crowd roared as the Cancer Kids began coming onto the stage.
After the ovation, Trace Brown said into the microphone. "As you know, an evil person tried to use the Constitution against itself to deny these kids the chance to have their voices heard!" The audience roared, then Trace Brown said "So this song is for him and those Establishment Elites that think they can order us around!"
Another roar, and then the music started. It was the Rolling Stones's '
You Can't Always Get What You Want
'. And like the kids choir that started that album, our Cancer Kids began singing:
"
No, you can't always get what you want
No, you can't always get what you want
No, you can't always get what you want
But if you try sometime, you just might find
You get what you need.
"
As Trace Brown began singing the rest of the song, I said to Cindy and Tanya:
"You know, that'd be a great song for some Presidential candidate to use against the Elites and his opponent, the most corrupt politician in American history."
"You're bad." Cindy replied.
"But yes," Tanya said with a twinkle in her eyes, "it's a message the Elites need to have shoved in their faces, like what the Junior Crowbar did to Nance..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We were starting to reach the exciting conclusion of the Rally. A lot of black people had come to the party, even a few younger ones wearing 'Black Voices Raised' sweaters. But they didn't cause any trouble, and danced to the music like the rest of us were doing.
To my surprise, T-Square himself came up to us, fist-bumping people along the way. His 'Regiment' looked distressed. His niece Tasha gave him a big hug, as did his sister Paulina. I told the leader of The Regiment to relax, that T-Square was well-protected by the Police, and the Guardians of Justice M.C. right behind us. The Regiment still looked distressed.
As the music of Mannheim Steamroller's version of
God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen
began playing, everyone began dancing to the upbeat music. I looked behind me to see Cindy and Callie leading their fellow country music fans in what must've been a world record synchronized line dance. Drones recording the event would show they were all in sync.
GOJMC members joined the line dance, making it even larger. And I noticed that some of the GOJMC members were dancing with the people wearing the 'Black Voices Raised' shirts. Acolytes from 'The Vision' were dancing with each other and with others, as well.