19239590

I have finally succumbed to the inevitable. I just tried to run away from it, but like John Connor, Neo, Leatherface, and other such heroes, my destiny was chosen for me long before.
I'm a cop. A damn good one too.
At first I did it as a laugh, and to collect beer money. Just put on the uniform and stand on the street corner during rush hour and you'll be amazed how fast the hundred baht bills come rolling in. But something happened when I wore that brown polyester. It stuck to me...and not just because it's so freaking hot under the sun. Like a symbiote, it became a part of my soul. (You'll understand this concept a little better when Spiderman 3 hits theaters next summer.)
I became addicted to the power. Even when I took off the uniform, people respected me. Feared me. And not just because I still wore my gun and holster. They could tell I was someone to be reckoned with.
At the precinct, though, there were still doubters. Haters who thought I was just wearing the browns for fun. Sarge decided to test me. It would my first case.
The sleepy, affluent community of Panya Village was being terrorized by a rogue crocodile. Neighbors were complaining of pets and small children being snatched by a 20 foot long beast. All teeth and tail, it was going to take more than prayer and citronella to subdue this monster.
I tracked the croc back to its kill pit under a bridge. This is where it regurgitated its victims, allowing them to rot to perfection, so he could dine at leisure. The stench was overwhelming, as body parts and carcasses almost made me throw up. Would Jack Bauer puke in this situation? I don't think so. Neither would I.
There it was, lying contentedly, belly distended from gorging its latest feast. It must have weighed at least 2 tons. I radioed for backup, but dispatch told me it would take about fifteen minutes. I couldn't risk waiting. The kids and poodles needed me to act.
I drew my gun and yelled "FREEZE! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST! RAISE YOUR ARMS AND DROP YOUR WEAPONS." The croc awoke with a start and slithered away. Apparently, going by the manual here wouldn't work. I fired two warning shots at its head, but the bullets glanced off the thick leathery skin. I ran after it, grabbed its tail and tried to subdue the raging reptile. He put up quite a fight, and nearly took my arm off. Luckily, I employed my superior grappling technique and Discovery Channel knowledge.
A crocodile's jaws can crush a victim with the incredible force of 3000 pounds per square inch, but once the mouth is closed the jaws can be easily held shut by hand. I sat on its head and held on for dear life until backup finally arrived...almost an hour later. They found me filthy and exhausted from wrestling the scaly beast. My hands were getting quite pruny from all the croc drool. By this time a large crowd was gathered around the kill pit, taking pictures and just rubbernecking. Brushing aside autograph requests, I followed the croc back to precinct for further questioning.
Not surprisingly, even in the face of overwhelming evidence, the croc wouldnt confess to any wrongdoing. I knew that if this thing was released on bail or got off on some technicality (such as my rough treatment taking it into custody) it would kill again. I'm not proud of what happened next.
Taking the law into your own hands is certainly never the only solution. Rules exist to keep order in society, and without them, we would have anarchy. But in this case, I couldn't let that croc have another chance. I went into the holding pen with a boxcutter knife and decapitated the monster.
Knowing I needed to dispose of the body, I quickly filleted the croc into strips of meat, which I hickory smoked into a nice jerky. With the skin I made ten pairs of shoes, a briefcase, and a canoe. I kept the head as a trophy.
When the captain found out what I did, he was furious. While he liked the shoes I made for him, it did little to placate his anger, and he put me on six weeks probation. Stuck at a desk, I'm going crazy. I need to be out in the field, in the shit. Patrolling the streets. Making the world safer. That's my calling. My destiny.
Don't worry, folks. I'll be back.