"Stories of Intrigue" is a pastiche of terrible amateur genre fiction. Another way of explaining it: here is a story written by the dumbest motherfucker taking Intro to Creative Writing at your local community college.
This is part one in an epic series of Stories of Intrigue inspired by "The Wire," in celebration of the 10-year anniversary of the series premiere.
McNutty was a cop who didn't give a crap. He was a crop. He drank Jamerson's all the livelong day and was bad at his job; but, he was good at his job. He was a walking contradiction, if I may be so bold as to quoth seminal punkers Green Day.
Suddenly, the call came in. The general of the Washington police said "You've got to get down to the Worf, Jamie," he said (all the other C.O.P.S. called him Jamie because of his infinity for Jamerson's, some manner of alcohol, and also because his name was Jamie). "Ringer Bell hath struck again."
McNutty drunk-drove to the crime seen, the thumping base lines and Irish cheer of Chumbawumba drowning out his sorries, much as like he attempted to drown them in Zima and Mike's Hard Lemonade every night at The Watering Hole, the hole-in-the-wall bar where he tried to drown out hisself nightly. His partner, Bunt, was at the seen. Bunt was nappily dressed as ever, his suits glistening in the phosphorous night like yea many hologrammatic Marvel cards. His flat-top was so perfectly angled that it looked like it had been drawn on with a protractor. But he was a fat piece of crap with a pension for alcohol; a black John Daly of sort's.
"Theirs the evidence," Bunt said. McNutty looked down. A vile of Crack, which was a drug. It was bad new's. White people like McNutty were impervious to it's affects, but it tore the black community apart with it's beckoning elure, like a drug version of the alein babe from Species I, Two, 3, and the Science-Fi Channel original Species: The Awakening.
McNutty picked up the vile and studyed it. "Crap," he said. "Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." Bunt said it too: "Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." They were fond of such act's of profanity whenever they solved the toughest nuts to crack. Suddenly, McNutty said: Take this back to the lab for analisize.
McNutty and Bunt went to The Watering Whole. "One beer, on the rock's, straight, no chaser," said McNutty. Bunt chugged basil and lemon mojitos like they were going out of style. They drank till they were blue in the face, then drank some more. The clock struck midnight. "Closing time," said the barkeep. "Time for you to go out to the places you will be from."
They drove to the train track's and peed everywhere, like a dog who got too excited about his owner having company. "This world is a hill of beans," said McNutty. "A house of card's, about to be knocked over like yea many dominoe's. Cop or criminal? What does it matter. My dad always said in a flawless Maryland accent that the world will chew you up and spit you out. Nobody told me it was Big League Chew." Bunt said the same thing.
The next morning, the test results were in. The vile was definately crack. What's more, it had Ringer Bell's D & A on it. "Now we just need to entrap Ringer into saying he sold the drug and we'll have cracked the case," said McNutty. He felt young again, like when he was married to his ex-wife and the comforting presence of "USA Up All Night" was hailed by a grateful nation every weekend.
Whenever they had an uncrackable crack case, McNutty and Bunt went to one man to help them crack the crack: Bubba, an adored local cracked head.
When it came to crack, Bubba couldn't get enuff of the stuff. He used it so hard that it turned one of his front teeth pitch black, blacker then the Yaphetest of Kottos. Some beardo'd wierdo tried to help Bubba quit smoking crack, but you can take the head out of crack, but you can't take the crack out of the head. He just kept cracking.
But he was nice and he helped the police by putting red hats on drug dealers to embarrass them in front of their friends. Bubba had a hearth of gold.
"Bubba!" barked Bunt. "We need you're help. Do you know Ringer Bell?" "Yeah, mon, I be knowing he," Bubba said, in a stunningly accurate recreation of the local urban dialect.
"Can you do us a favor?" said McNutty. "Anything for Philly's Phinest," said Bubba. "And I don't mean hometown hero Amber Rose!" "Your outragious, Bubba!" said McNutty and Bunt, too.
"Please go put this tracking devise and this Yak Bak in Ringer Bell's pocket. I don't care how you do it, just get it done!" "Okey-doke" said Bubba.
Bubba hid the tracking devise and the Yak Bak in a role of $ bills, butcept only the outside one was a $ bill, the rest were $-sized slip's of paper that weren't worth jack-butt. "Let's just hope he doesn't look inside!" Bubba fretted.
So Bubba went to Ringer Bell's house and ringed the bell. "Special delivery!" he proclammed! Who is it, grumbled one of Ringer Bell's slaves. Oh its just Bubba, well let him in.
"Just a little somethin'-somethin' to say thank you for giving me so much crack." Said Bubba as he slid the $'s sensually into Ringer Bell's pocket. "Any time," said Ringer.
McNutty and Bunt listened from inside the station. "Here are the drug's you ordered, sir," said a sniffling underling. "Thank you for these wonderful drug's," said Ringer. "Are they all counted for? I see crack, heroine, pot, mariwanna, weed, zorse, XTC, and math. Look's like the gangs all here! Wonderful."
"Cha-ching! shouted McNutty" We got him fair and scare. Now lets go to the bar to celebrate! Drink's are on me! "What about food's?" said the tubby boss cop who looked like a really fat version of John Cena. Everyone laughed. When they got to the bar, the corpse of there old friend Detective Hank was lying on the pool table. They all belted out the national cop anthem, "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something. Justice was to be served.
But justice would half to wait a mite longer. Ringer's slimy, ethicless lawyer found a technical on the book's. "Aha!" he told the judge. "Bubba didn't tell my client he was working for the cop's. A more cut-in-dry case of blackmale I haven't seen since Taye Diggs came on the scene." "Your right," said Judge. "My hand's are tight. Case dismissed."
Back at the bar, McNutty and Bunt were whooping it up, hollering like two Howard Dean's, one black as coal, the other white as Patrick Ewing's teeth. They didn't know that mear moment's earlier, Ringer had escaped they're grasp yet again, this time hightailing it straight into the buxom of Lady Justice.
Ringer smiled like the Chester Cat back at his lair. He shot Wally, a sympathetic area teen, and I forgot to mention before but his best friend Avian and Avian's cousin The'Angelo were their too.
For more bone-chilling and heart-stopping tales, check out our Stories of Intrigue section.