Jack the Ripper
It was warm, thank god it was warm. I've never done this before. Hell, there are a lot of things I've never done before. But being on the streets ain't one of them. I had a good home, with wonderful parents and good friends (Not counting Russell Buckins). How these kids can live out here, with the hunger and the filth and the depression is beyond me. Turning tricks to get high, or make some money.
Even though I've been propositioned, there is only one man I want. I want the guy in the BMW. I want him a jail cell where he can think about his crimes. Ioki may be right, Jack the Ripper was a genius when it came to killing prostitutes. But, there is only one problem, the Police Force they had back then, didn't have an undercover department. That's what makes these two things different. Hopefully, this guy will chose one of us cops instead of a desperate kid who doesn't know anything besides what their pimp tells them.
And here I wanted to be a beat cop; what it all comes down to though, is that Jump Street does a hell of a lot more for this city than anyone thinks. Sure, we go into schools and we bust the drug dealers – but, it's assignments like these, where we know we can't do a hell of a lot, but what we can do will make the streets safer. No Jack the Ripper for us. Thank you very much.
Walking down this block, taking up my post in front of the adult store. Some guy's smile at me, look at me from head to toe, I don't bother looking at them. If I did live out here, I wouldn't turn tricks. That's for sure. Course, would I have too? If I got picked up by a pimp or something…no way…I'd beat the shit out of the guy first. I nod to myself, as if all of these thoughts made me better than them in some odd way. I know I'm not. I have a place to live, a good job, a family and friends. What difference does it make?
They only have to worry 'bout where their next meal comes from.
A guy passes me, he reaches out a hand and tries to mess my hair up, I move to avoid the hand and he glares at me. I give him the finger. I'm not out here to give a blow job. Thank you very much!
It was here that I look up; I see the car and I walk towards it. It's the car we've been looking for now going on for three bloody weeks. Three weeks of hell. Three weeks of not being cleaned properly, or eating properly or even being in my apartment playing on my guitar. This ass hole needs to be put in jail…so that I can sleep in a safe place and not have to worry about some John finding me and trying to take advantage. (Ha, I arrested that one…that was fun…).
"I take it you're here for more than just directions," I stated to the man in the car.
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a/n – Okay, this is based upon the episode "Blinded by the thousand points of light" – they should "a" where they have 'the' – but that's just me. I hope you all liked it.