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8:10 a.m. Thursday, May 2, 2002
Mere minutes after Sara Daley sees her two angels off to school
Former residence of the Rodd Daleys of the Clan Daley
Outside Morden Manitoba
Self proclaimed detective, Sara Daley, of the militant group Al Baleyda,
vigilante arm of the Ho Down and Extravaganza, is madly packing up all the
family belongings for their life altering move to the outskirts of the thriving
big city lights of Brandon Manitoba. During a routine rummaging through her
sons’ room, she stumbles across adolescent tobacco smoking paraphernalia in the
bedroom of one Cody Nicholas Storm Daley and one Colten T. Seth Daley. Among
the paraphernalia are five cigarette butts, a green Bic lighter, and a
suspicious letter addressed to Mr. Cody Daley smelling of sweet perfume and
gobstoppers.
Daley refers to her manual on militant vigilantism and reads the first step:
Accuse the perpetrators with as little evidence as you can find and vow to go
ape-sh?t on their ass when they get home from school. She immediately phones
her partner, the handsome and irritably sexy Sergeant Rodd Daley of the
heralded Al Baleyda network. He immediately asks his partner if she has
performed the first step of the manual. She confirms she did. He then asks if
she has tampered with the evidence. She has.
"I ain't sayin' nothin' til you loosen these cuffs, copper!"
Sergeant Daley tells Detective Daley to bag the evidence and pick up the two
alleged perps after school. Detective Sara then asks if she should open the
letter addressed to her son claiming it may be pertinent to the case. Plus her
extensive spy network (the CRRSBI1) has uncovered that her ten year
old is being pursued as of late by not one, but two young hussies who threaten
her young son’s purity and innocence. “Little sluts,” she mutters under her
breath. (In fact, the Ho Down has uncovered that it has been her son who has
been playing both young “hussies” at the same time; this reporter salutes him).
She has to open the letter. She will go insane if she doesn’t. Her partner
convinces her that it is not pertinent to the case and his privacy should be
respected. Reluctantly, she agrees and opens the letter anyway. Her partner was
right; it had nothing to do with the case at hand but she now knows the
identity of one of the young jezebels who is pursuing her son and who threatens
to destroy his purity and innocence. Another case for another day, she tells
herself, sharpening her fingernails on a nearby whetstone.
4:31 p.m. Thursday May 2, 2002
Shortly after Days of Our Lives (Cloe is falling for Phillip finally and Hope
still doesn’t know who the father of her baby is)
Residence of the accused
Outside Morden Manitoba
Both the accused are taken into custody. They are separated into two
interrogation rooms and thrown under the lights. Detective Sara Daley applies
the age-old police (and mother) tactic of turning each of them against the
other.
"I plead the fifth!"
She soon realizes that her two sons, who have been watching Law & Order
religiously with their parents, know their rights and aren’t talking without a
lawyer present. Vowing not to react to the smart-assed-ness of the request, she
maintains her composure about as well as can be expected. With the quiet
calmness of a calf at castration time, she informs them that if they don’t
start talking, she is going to open up a can of whoop-ass on both their hides
and the first one who spills won’t be as severely beaten as the second.
They squeal faster than a con picking up soap in Mike Tyson’s shower. The two
accused turn on each other like a two dollar whore turns tricks at the Patricia
Hotel. (Not that this reporter knows if two dollar whores turn tricks at the
Patricia. He is just saying, that’s all.) After spilling the beans, their
lawyers barge into the interrogation rooms threatening lawsuits and demanding
that they be able to confer. They are not heard from again.
8:00 p.m. Thursday May 2, 2002
Supreme Court Emergency Session
Daley living room
The prosecution has presented its case. The defense is claiming that all of the
evidence was obtained as a result of an illegal search. There was no search
warrant; therefore, no evidence. In a surprise move, the prosecution alleges
that the newly created terrorist bill gave the prosecution the right to enter
the premises and seize whatever the hell they want in the interest of national
security.
After nearly thirty seconds of deliberation, Judge Roy Bean finds both
defendants guilty of possession of a few butts and a lighter and squealing on
each other like a bunch of sissies who were afraid of their mommy. They are
sentenced to six years of loading and unloading the dishwasher and a good old
fashion ass whoopin’ behind the wood shed. However, because of increasingly
pansy-assed juvenile laws and Child and Family Services, they will serve no
time and will instead have a “time-out” consisting of being suspended in their
rooms with only their PlayStation and VCR to play with.