Behold, peons! A second story!
Slow Day
Dredd woke from his sleep, already pulling on his uniform and armor. As he prepared for his patrol, a stray feeling momentarily took hold of him. A feeling that today would not be a normal day. A strange feeling. An irrational feeling. A feeling of... slowness.
But Judge Dredd was not one to ruminate on things that had nothing to do with upholding the Law in Megacity One. Shrugging off the feeling, he equipped himself with his Lawgiver, knife, grenades, and extra ammo, before heading down to the garages to start his patrol.
On his way down, he met up with his new partner, Judge Anderson, whom he had evaluated and passed not three months before. Dredd couldn't help but notice that his partner still wasn't wearing her standard issue helmet. That'd get her killed one day, he mused idly.
"Rookie. Let's go."
"Yes sir!"
Mounting their Lawmaster bikes, the pair rode off on patrol, waiting for dispatch to alert them of any crimes in progress.
Three Hours Later
At approximately seven in the morning, even Dredd was starting to feel a bit put out. Normally, the streets of Sector Thirteen (and beyond) were filled with thousands of crimes in progress, of which, unfortunately, the Hall of Justice could only answer to about six percent.
Today, however, all crimes in progress had a Judge dispatched. This was incredibly odd, considering the normal response abilities of the Judges.
Even some of the Rookies had gotten in on the action.
Dredd and Anderson, however, had not received anything.
"Sir, if I may... today seems to be going really slow."
"I know. All of the crimes today have been answered. What are you asking, Rookie?"
"What do you normally do on days like this, sir?"
Dredd paused. When was the last slow day anyways? Ah, that's right. Ten years ago, almost this very month, in fact. What had he done?
"I patrolled. After my shift was over, I relieved myself and took a rest period. The next day was normal."
"Right."
"Let's keep going, Rookie."
"Yes sir!"
Twelve Hours Later
Three. Three crimes in progress over the entire day, and all of the crimes had still been taken care of. What was even happening today anyways?
"I have to admit, today has been pretty slow."
At least they had gotten a nice lunch of nutrient paste earlier. Actually, it was nearing dinner by now.
Ksst. Splorch. Beep.
Ah, there it was. Nutrient paste, just what the Med-Judge ordered. Bland and flavorless, but one got used to its unappealing texture. Or else.
Midnight; End of Shift
"Slow day, Dredd?"
"Yup."
"See you in the morning."
"Chief Judge."
"Dredd."
The Chief Judge walked away, heading off to her office, most likely. Dredd continued forward to the barracks, Anderson splitting off a few minutes later with a salute, a nod, and a quick "Sir!"
He had replied with an equally quick "Rookie."
Settling down on his bunk, Dredd was instantly unconscious, not even dreaming, ready to face the hectic day full of stims and nutrient paste and crime in four hours.
What an odd day, he thought, just before he passed out.
A/N: I will admit, this idea just came to me while I was taking a dump. I then proceeded to type this in an hour. Whatever. Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary, though I wish people would actually comment on my stories instead of just reading them sometimes.