Disclaimer/Warnings: All characters, companies, and products featured in this story are property of their respective owners/designers and not of my own; the only things I hold a claim to are the North Korean schoolgirls, a few other minor characters, and the general creation of this fiction.
This story is rated M for pure stupidity, random humor, harsh language, heavy sexual innuendo, intentional out-of-character occurrences, crazy cameos, multi-crossovers, violence with sass, references to tentacle porn, many pop culture references, tongue-in-cheek humor, general Carter Blake-ness, cross-dressing ballerinas, and Boston accents.
Author Notes: One of the many disappointments of Heavy Rain is the indefinite hiatus of the Chronicles series; to this day the fate of the remaining DLC's is uncertain.
What David Cage had planned for one of those installments, ladies and gentlemen, was nothing short of the most action-packed and breathtakingly beautiful idea for a video game ever! Alas, due to the immense licensing issues it would take to make this wonderful DLC would make it nearly impossible to ever be publicly released. One night, David Cage confessed to me in an email (as we are total internet besties) that he needed his dream to live on in some form; so after giving me indepth details of this particular episode, he commissioned my crappy fanfic making skills to write my own account of that installment.
The work below is that story that needed to live on in literary form…
Carter Blake's footsteps were heavy as he solemnly made his own private walk of shame towards his captain's office. Each step brought him closer and closer to the place that would make him acknowledge his failure as a member of law enforcement, and even more so as a man.
His eyes darted back and forth among the bustling office; briefly looking at each of his fellow officers as they went about their business. A few of them glanced back at him from whatever file they were looking over or person they were speaking to, seeing if the man had anything to say to them. Carter could almost hear the internal sighs of relief inside their heads as he walked on, probably thanking God for sparing them from dealing with the infamous Carter Blake for the moment. The hardened cop could only imagine what they'd think if they knew the truth about what was going to happen to their most dreaded lieutenant.
"Oh the sons-of-bitches would probably laugh it up and love it… Bastards. Every one of 'em.", he thought.
He could only take solace in the fact that no one else in the department would see him in his moment of shame.
His partner Ash, one of the few people he was on decent terms with, had his attention buried in the screen of a computer monitor as he sat at the desk across from his own.
They made eye contact for only a few seconds, giving each other a silent nod of acknowledgement out of respect; after this Ash returned his focus back to the computer.
Blake didn't need to even look at what the man was busying himself with; he already knew his partner was probably stalking the webpages of eBay seeking to buy another Beanie Baby to add to his personal collection. Ash was simply nuts about the tiny stuffed animals. While everyone else in the station was using their downtime to look at lewd Japanese cartoons that involved young warrior girls getting molested by monsters with tentacles (this was especially so of the secretary Charlene) Ash was hard at work looking for a rare Beanie creature that he ever-so-desperately needed for his Beanie tea parties he threw on his lunchbreak.
The lieutenant however was a rebel; he didn't waste his energy with things like that.
His on-the-job spare time was spent reading the latest novel from the talented mystery writer and amateur detective, J.B. Fletcher. Her amazing work was one of the few things that helped him get through his day, and always managed to inspire him to continue in the fight against crime.
He could only wonder how the famed author would get herself out of a situation so dire.
As he passed by his own desk, he was reminded of his glory days as a police lieutenant. Blake hadn't got to his position by taking the easy, follow-the-rules-never-step-out-of-line-yes-sir-no-sir route – he earned his title with his sweat and blood.
Sure his work had brought him some hard times, especially because of his take no shit attitude, but somehow he'd managed to get through it all.
The position he was currently in right now, however, was something entirely different altogether.
He wasn't facing some elusive homicidal maniac or even dealing with the possibility of losing his job; it was the simple but effective act of humiliation created by the one person who held all the cards for as long as he could remember earning the position of lieutenant. Captain Perry was one of the most conniving individuals he'd ever met. The bastard could corner a raging bull and walk away with its testicles if animals were capable of making deals and odd bets. This was a man that once forced a young boy into giving up his Snicker candy bar after failing to beat the cretin at a game of hopscotch. Perry showed no signs of remorse when it came to the loser, sometimes Blake thought Perry got off on other people's humiliation more than he did. Games of chance and bets were his specialty; Carter once asked him why he never went to Vegas, he got that mischievous trademark smirk commonly associated with creepers as a response.
He knew Perry probably finagled his way into getting to be head of the Homicide Division using those skills way back in the day, and also why he'd been able to stay there for so long, especially with all his political connections. Now those same fiendish abilities would be used against him, and Blake had to go along with it if he too ever wanted to attain the position of captain after Perry retired. Yet the price he was going to pay was a heavy one. Even if no one knew what was about to happen, it would still secretly haunt Blake, probably forever.
Captain Perry's windowed, ugly eggshell blue door was a gateway to a place he'd rather not be, but he knew there was no turning back now. He gambled and lost. Only a total pansy would back out of this, and though most of the people that knew him probably wouldn't think it, he did have a sense of honor when it came to these things.
He came to a dead halt at the door, standing there in silence. It was simply to spare himself a few more minutes before facing the consequences of failure.
Carter sighed as he felt the heavy weight of guilty growing heavier on his shoulders.
With a grim and hopeless tone in his voice, he quietly said to himself, "Well, time to get this over with…"
He knocked on the glass pane, and seconds afterward was Perry's cue, "Come in."
The police lieutenant opened the door in the most relaxed manner as he could be in; not wanting to seem too on edge.
He found Captain Perry at his desk, with Charlene sitting in one of the chairs in front of him. It seemed she was taking a memo for him. His captain's brown eyes zeroed in on him with a devilish glean, "Ah Lieutenant Blake! Just the man I wanted to see…"
Blake, leaping at the chance to stall his impending doom, spoke casually, "Oh well it looks like you're in the middle of something. I'll come back later."
"Don't worry; Charlene was just on her way out. We're all finished here.", Perry stated with unsettling politeness.
The head secretary got up from her seat, the middle-aged woman glared at the police lieutenant as she walked past him; not saying a word as she closed the door behind her. She was one of the factors in the bet Carter had taken up with Perry, and his failure with said factor had caused him a lot of grief with her, though Charlene was the least of his worries now.
Carter eased himself into one of the yellow chairs, though he knew there was no use trying to get comfortable as the crappy leather padding was thin and practically useless. Ironically that was how most of the things were in the office, old and a pain in the ass, just like the man who used them. Even before this, Blake had always hated Captain Perry's office. It was almost smaller than the closet space they gave to Norman, and wasn't helped by the fact that it was filled with the aforementioned junk. The very feel of the room seemed more like a place that some washed out novelty salesman would kill himself in, and being here made the idea of suicide almost enticing to Blake; though that urge would most likely grow stronger by the end of the day.
The lieutenant couldn't bring himself to say anything first, he just simply stared at his captain; watching him as he leaned back in his swivel chair. His body language was boasting everything he was probably thinking underneath that receding hairline, right down to the subtle smile that was slowly forming on his face.
"Fuckin' prick… I'd like to see how he grins if I kicked that chair out from under his ass and then backhanded him while calling him Susan!", Carter thought maliciously.
Leighton Perry's smile widened ever so slightly; probably knowing that his subordinate was dreaming up vile things to do to him yet was powerless to carry them out.
He leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk as he asked, "So…were you able to Silly-String the breakroom while dressed as President Lincoln without compromising your true identity?"
Blake stared at him blankly for a moment before answering the question, "…No."
That had been his first gambit, his first failure. He'd fallen for the mistake of buying a cheap costume beard from Wal-Mart and using no prosthetics to alter his face, and when the strings to the beard snapped his hope for success had been shattered; the faux facial hair fell off as did his tall hat and Carter Blake was met with a room full of angry co-workers. Especially Officer Shrone from the Narcotics Unit, after his special Starbucks coffee had been tainted by the bright blue party favor he retaliated by lifting a few of the vending machines and throwing them into a wall; leaving only the crappy coffee maker as the station's last resort for a pick-me-up. It was after this incident that the police lieutenant firmly believed in putting a stop to America's growing caffeine addiction…but that was a job for the weekends.
Captain Perry brushed a piece of fuzz off of his jacket, "Hm…how about reaching level 4,751 on World of Warcraft and beating The Asswipe King in 48 hours without cheating?"
"On my salary? Christ, I don't have the money or the time for those fuckin' pansy-ass games. Even if I did I'd be playing somethin' a little more manly…like Diner Dash! Nobody can run a virtual restaurant like me! When I'm in control of Flo she flies through those food orders!", Blake zealously boasted.
In truth, the police lieutenant had tried out a trial subscription of the popular game as his local Gamestop was running a special on the newly released Noe Lyyfe Atall expansion pack. When he actually got home, however, it took him only ten minutes of playing the game to become frustrated and uninstall it from his computer. As with the nature of all MMORPGs, the game required an intense amount of social interaction; and Blake's people skills were obviously deplorable. In those ten minutes he'd managed to piss off a 16 year old girl in Greenwich, Connecticut who was a powerful Death Knight that went by the name of "Gimsy" and a 30 year old man in Fontana, California who used the digital disguise as a female Priest named "PonyGirl34" in order to engage in wild chat-speak cybersex with unsuspecting homophobic players. Blake had demanded all their money and items tied to their accounts in hopes of making the daunting task set by his captain a little easier. Unfortunately, Blake's low level Hunter (whom he affectionately named "MasterFlo") was no match for either player and was defeated in seconds. All he could do thereafter was send them both vicious messages full of vulgarities that were watered down by the censorship implemented in the system, which reduced them to nothing more than comical phrases. After he was done trying to verbally assault them he deleted all remnants of the game and consoled himself by playing as his all-time favorite waitress for the rest of the afternoon; getting the highest scores possible in Diner Dash.
Perry continued on, "Alright, what about running down both Lombard Street and South Broad Street to the Bainbridge Street intersection in under eight minutes and thirty seconds without stepping on a crack? You know I have my ways of checking up on things...so don't bother lying to me."
(Interestingly enough, Captain Perry's "ways" was actually a spy network of homeless people strewn about the city that had been enticed by Twinkies, cheap booze, and cigarettes in exchange for their loyalty and two of the captain's James Bond hobos had watched Carter attempt to perform the task that very day.)
To Blake, this failure was probably the most embarrassing of them all. Though his body would not suggest careless obesity, the lieutenant's devotion to Diner Dash on the computer and his love of greasy Philly Cheese Steak burgers had put him quite out of shape, thus he was not able to reach the designated point within the allotted time; in fact, he could only run less than half of Lombard St., which turned into a brisk jog towards the first intersection onto S. Broad St., which then became a strained power walk for less than a quarter of the length of the block; when he actually reached the S. Broad St.-Bainbridge St. Intersection his efforts had been reduced to a slow, pathetic, and weary crawl to the finishing point. In total it had taken Lt. Carter Blake almost twenty-five minutes and forty-six seconds to travel a couple city blocks. He remembered the cab driver's expression when finally managed to flag one down to take him home; the Hispanic woman said he looked as if he'd been wandering the desert for many days and nights. Carter replied to the vivacious cabbie that he might as well have, and then directed her to take him to "Joe's Spithouse" – the best place in all of Philadelphia to get a Philly Cheese Steak burger.
Blake cleared his throat before responding to the question, "Well...uh...it took me a bit longer than eight minutes but if I'd have had a couple extra minutes I'd have made it for sure! This cheetah just hasn't had time to work out his legs is all!"
Captain Perry's voice took on a dry tone, "...Did you make it without stepping on a crack?"
The lieutenant lowered his head in shame, "No, I... I stepped on a crack..."
"And...?", Perry questioned further.
"And I broke my mama's back! Alright, asshole?", Carter yelled in angered remorse.
(It should be noted that Carter, being the anti-Christ, does not technically have a true mother; the Devil made him out of all things opposite of sugar and spice and everything nice. Blake simply made this comment for dramatic effect.)
The captain scoffed at his underling's anguish, "Oh for Pete's sake, lieutenant, did you even manage to get Charlene to kick her dependence on obscene pornography?"
Blake said nothing; he just continued to start at the whitewash tiled floor in regret. He recounted his failures with a heavy heart and a clenched fist. Fully knowing he'd lost it all, and now all he had to do was wait for Perry to bring it to an end.
"Hmph. I suppose I should have been able to answer that one myself when she came in here with her skirt and hair all messed up singing 'Pretty Woman'! I swear she's the worst of us when it comes to that, at least I wait until I get home to masturbate!", Perry noted with annoyance.
He leaned back in his chair as he stared at his subordinate. Returning his attention to the matter at hand, he said, "Very well, Blake. I'll give you one last chance…"
If Carter Blake had been a dog his ears would be at full attention at this point; a glimmer of hope had cast itself over him. With renewed vigor, he exclaimed, "What is it? I'm on it! Hit me with whatever you got! I'll make damn sure I get it right this time!"
Perry pulled a deck of cards from his jacket, "I've got these cards here so pick a card, any ca–"
Before he finished the sentence he immediately threw them across the room and yelled in rapid succession, "Surprise five question pop quiz! Answer them all correctly, you win! Quick! What is the name of Dorothy Zbornak's mother on The Golden Girls?"
Momentarily dumbstruck by the sudden outburst, Blake stumbled, "Uh-uh…Sophia Petrillo! Thank god I'm able to catch the re-runs on the Lifetime network between playthroughs of Diner Dash!"
"Correct! The 'Fat Man' atomic bomb was based on what type of assembly method?"
"Implosion method!", Carter said with a smug look, adding, "Yeah I watch the History Channel!"
"That's correct. What is the average annual rainfall in Detroit, Michigan?"
The seasoned lieutenant became even more proud, "Easy! Thirty-one inches! Oh I work a little bit of the Weather Channel in there too!"
"Correct again. True or false: I love my life."
With his take-no-shit-attitude back in full force, Carter laughed, "Ha! False! Oh before you correct me, Captain Perry, I'll tell you why…no matter what you do you'll always be stuck driving that shitty '96 Sebring convertible because your wife Gladys likes it and we both know that she owns your sorry ass! In fact, she dresses up in a dominatrix outfit after church on Sundays and after she's done whipping the bejeezus out of you she makes you clean the toilets with a scrub brush attached to your face!"
The police lieutenant titled his head as his gaze emitted even more of that infamous cavalier attitude, "That's just the tip of the iceberg too! I could go on about the boils you constantly get on your wrinkly ass or the fact that your irritable bowel syndrome can be triggered by just the slightest amount of dairy products and will haunt you well into the day! Or that you can't buy that precious HelloKitty backpack because the world would laugh at you so much you'd cry like the little girl whose mom wouldn't buy her one! And there's so much more! Face it, Susan – you hate your life! You hate it so much that you need to play all these little fuckin' games with people so you can taste that five minutes of power! That you can have that something to dangle over their heads to make yourself feel important! And that's why you're so afraid of retiring and handing the reins over to me! 'Cause you know damn well I'll do a better job than you! And that really puts a twist in your panties, doesn't it, Susan? Yeah I figured it all out! And I didn't even need a fuckin' degree in psychology like Norman to get inside your head! No I got it all, Susan! I hit it right out of the fuckin' park! Take it, Susan! Take it!"
The chief of the Homicide Division looked unaffected by the vicious telling of his secrets even as he acknowledged them, "Very good, Lieutenant, very good. I'm impressed that you were able to find out those things about me, perhaps there may be some hope for you yet. If you know all those things then you should be able to answer this question…what is the capital of Genovia?"
In a split second, all of Carter Blake's bravado disappeared like water down a drain as his mind searched frantically for the answer, "Shit! I should have paid more attention in my damn Geography class in high school! I was too busy staring at my pencil! But it was one hell of a pencil! Fuck! Where is Genovia even at? It's probably one of those tiny ass countries in Western Europe that no one gives a shit about! Come on! Think dammit!"
Blake could feel the time slipping away; he tried his best not to show his desperation, aware that his captain would only feed off of it and he didn't want to give "the bastard" any satisfaction.
Despite his efforts to cloak his external deposition, Captain Perry was already savoring the moment as he asked Blake with sarcastic demure, "Having a little trouble, Lieutenant? I'm shocked. You were down right brilliant only seconds ago…"
"This fucker is one sick individual. He knows I don't know the goddamn answer! I'm so goddamn close! If I only I knew the fuckin' answer!", Blake thought.
In a sinister fashion, Perry rested his elbows on his desk and began tapping the tips of his fingers together, "Your time is running out, Lieutenant. Don't make me start humming the theme to Jeopardy like every moron does in these situations."
Carter knew his last chance was diminishing as quick as it had appeared; the weight was returning as the seconds passed by.
"Well, Lieutenant Blake, do you know the answer?", Perry asked.
His subordinate said nothing, simply bowing his head in defeat; not caring if Perry would get off on seeing him in such a state. He'd lost it all.
Leighton Perry threw his head back as he scoffed, "Ha! Look at you! Pathetic! Even I have a little more dignity after Gladys is through with me! Do you want to know the best part is? That was a trick question! There is no Genovia, Blake! Genovia is a fictional European country from the book and film 'The Princess Diaries'!"
With rage, Blake shot up from his seat and slammed his fist on the desk, "Fuckin' asshole! You know I'm more of a Kate Hudson fan, so you knew I wouldn't know the answer to that question! The only movie I've seen with Anne Hathaway is Bride Wars!"
In retaliation, Captain Perry stood up from his own seat and brought his face close to Blake's, "Exactly! And if they hadn't made up at the end of the movie Anne's character, Emma, would have most definitely had the better wedding!"
Again the lieutenant slammed his fist on the desk with great force, "That's bullshit! Kate's character was much more out-going and stylish! For fuck's sake, her name said it all – Liv! Anne Hathaway's character couldn't even compete, especially in real life too! Besides Liv's groom seemed to have it together unlike Emma!"
(Though neither of them admitted it after they watched the film at Perry's house, both men secretly wished both of their beloved actresses' respective characters would have simply dumped their lame husbands-to-be and ran off and married each other instead as they were much more perfect for each other. Not surprisingly, this inspired Captain Perry and Blake to write a few touching fanfictions and publish them under inconspicuous author names in secret on a few sites; becoming the founding fathers of the Emma/Liv pairing.)
Ignoring his underling's rebuttal about the subject of the movie, Perry snarled, "Face it, Blake… You lost. You failed at a test of stealth, a test of patience, a test of agility, a test of persuasion, and a test of intelligence. You're sure as hell not ready to be the chief of the Homicide Division."
Blake's eyelids opened and closed rapidly as he was dumbfounded by the statement, "Stealth? Agility? You certainly don't fuckin' have those! You don't even have patience, asshole! All you do is sit around all day signin' a few fuckin' papers and spout off on a microphone for some goddamn reporters! You don't even do half the other things you're supposed to! How in the fuck are you gonna expect those qualities from someone else when you yourself don't even have them, huh?"
Captain Perry broke their angered visual exchange and took a moment to fix his tie before sitting back down in his chair, "That's not the point, Lieutenant. It's the principal of the thing…but you have got to admit I've got plenty of persuasion to make up for the things I lack. So it looks like I'm not going to be retiring any time soon. Ha ha! No new Head of Homicide for this station! I've got you dead-to-rights!"
Carter's upper lip twitched for a few seconds; irritated especially so by the last remark. The phrase 'dead-to-rights' was a favorite of Captain Perry's, often saying it at least six times a day. The lieutenant wasn't entirely sure whether the man truly knew the meaning of the idiom or loved it so much that he'd use it even if it didn't pertain to the situation, either way he'd heard the expression so much that he'd develop a miniscule seizure upon hearing it. Blake could recall the man saying the exact same thing to his pet goldfish every time he fed it. The little fish would swim up to the top of the tank as Perry dropped the flakes of food onto the water's surface; having that same sinister grin with a matching sinister chuckle going, "I've got you dead-to-rights!" In fact, Carter Blake was convinced that even the goldfish would go into frustrated spasms upon hearing those words.
Unfortunately for the police lieutenant, his captain did have him 'dead-to-rights' now.
After a quick bout of victorious laughter, Perry shifted in his seat and said, "Well, Lt. Blake, now that you've fully realized defeat I believe you should pay up now. You do know what that means, don't you?"
Blake sighed with utter despair, "Yeah..."
Captain Perry clapped his hands once and then started rubbing them together with glee, "That's right, Anita! You gotta get down and suck my dick!"
Carter couldn't stand Perry's vile, braggart tone; he was all too happy to make his subordinate even more of a lesser man to him. Yet there was no backing out of this now, no matter how much he hated it.
The perverse old man motioned Carter to come around the desk, "Get over here, Anita! It's time to keep up your end of the bargain!"
The lieutenant's legs felt like rubber as he quietly shuffled his way around the workspace, but he was able to maintain an air of manliness on the outside. Once again there was no need to give him more satisfaction than what was required.
Perry swiveled his chair sideways to face Blake; his legs slightly apart as he waited for the other man to kneel before him. Of course, Carter Blake had never done anything remotely like this in his life (…though he came pretty close during those few wild frat parties he was invited to back in his youth).
Although he wasn't keen on the idea in the first place he wished he had a choice as to who he would perform such a twisted act on, "Ugh… Christ… Why this dickhead? Why can't it be that blonde guy from that Buffy TV show? Or a younger Burt Reynolds? Fuck even the Pillsbury Doughboy with a fuckin' six pack would be a million times better! Hey…that's it! Maybe if I try to imagine Perry as someone else I'll be able to do this!"
Lieutenant Blake's mind began projecting a more desired image of James Marsters in his Spike role onto Captain Perry's form.
In moments Leighton Perry had transformed from a balding 52 year old that looked like a character off of Seinfeld to a young, sexy, bleached-blonde English vampire dressed in tight acid-washed jeans, biker boots, and a charcoal trenchcoat. As Carter approached the infamous blood-fiend adored by many Buffy enthusiasts, the illusionary Spike gave him a charming wink and a cheeky grin.
"Alright I'm gettin' a little too turned on by this. Let's try something else…"
Suddenly Spike melted into the classic version of macho icon, Burt Reynolds. Of course he looked as if he'd just stepped off the set of his 1977 film, Smokey and The Bandit; wearing that same bright red button up shirt, beige cowboy hat, and skin hugging-sky blue jeans that Bandit wore. The rugged hero briefly ran a thumb against the right side of his dark moustache as he looked at Blake with equally dark eyes. After tipping his cowboy hat, those rough hands began undoing the buttons on that crimson work-shirt; when the top three buttons had been unbound a manly trove of jet black chest hair was exposed for the lieutenant's eyes to feast upon. Then, music that sounded like it came out of a 70's porno began to accompany Bandit's eager movements.
"Holy shit! I'm getting wayyyy too turned on by this! Moving on!"
The music stopped and Bandit dissolved into the Pillsbury Doughboy. Of course this wasn't the puffy little pile of paste that one would normally see on a roll of ready-made Pillsbury cookie dough; Blake's version was more like the Pillsbury Doughboy had spent his time taking muscle enhancers and lifting 400 pound weights as opposed to joyously running around people's kitchens and getting his stomach poked. The Doughboy had a Herculean body that even Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jean-Claude van Damme could approve of. All he was wearing was a pink man-thong and his trademark chef's toque on his head; the rest was all thick, veiny muscle.
The Doughboy had a playful glean in his big blue eyes as he spoke to Carter in a deep, calming voice that was akin to Barry White's, "Hello there, Blake. You wanna work this dough until it's nice and soft, baby?"
Though most people would be quite disturbed by this vision, the seasoned cop found it to be hilarious as he began laughing; trying his best to keep his notion of the newfound humor inside.
However it didn't work as The Pillsbury Doughboy's huge inviting eyes turned into angry orbs of discontent, "Wha'chu laughin' at, Anita? You ain't gonna be all giggles when I shove this big slab of solid dough down ya throat! You hear me?"
Blake continued to give out muffled fits of laughter; he was losing focus on imagining his captain as something other than himself. As The Doughboy began yelling other vulgarities his voice slowly began to change into Captain Perry's, "I said what the hell are you laughing at, Anita? Quit screwing around dammit!"
In a split second Perry was just plain old Perry again, albeit an angry old Perry; sitting in his office chair with his shirt unbuttoned so that a thick carpet of salt and peppered chest hair (which did not look as attractive on him as it did Mr. Reynolds) to greet his underling.
"Get over here and perform your duties, lieutenant! This is the one time of the year Gladys takes off my chastity belt and I wanna enjoy it! This cock isn't going to suck itself!"
Carter's laughter died down immediately as reality set back in. He quietly kneeled before his superior; feeling violated even before the true humiliation had begun. The lieutenant remained in that position for some time in silence. Though he knew what his predicament entailed, it was different viewing the action from the other perspective. Once it was he who got sucked, now it would be he who was doing the sucking.
With great timidity, Blake's fingers undid the snap-button at the top, then grabbed the latch for the zipper of the light gray slacks and began pulling the tab down. It was the longest unzipping of both men's entire lives.
When he was done his captain sat eagerly in the chair with the front half of some lacey black lingerie to be revealed underneath the otherwise manly trousers. Lieutenant Blake stared at the man for some time with an extremely confused look upon his face.
Leighton sighed with frustration, "Don't ask! You don't need any info for your task, Anita! Just hurry up and get to the part where you blow me!"
"Holy shit… And here I was makin' comments about putting a twist in his panties and it turns out he really wears them!", Blake thought.
His subordinate cleared his throat, hesitantly pulling down the chic feminine undergarment very slowly –
"GAME OVAH, MAN! GAME OVAH!", a familiar voice shouted from outside the office.
Upon hearing the voice, Blake thought, "No! It can't be!"
Without warning, Perry's door flung open with great force as a dark gray shape kicked it open. There in the doorway stood Agent Norman Jayden; dressed in the same suit the lieutenant had first seen him in since he'd been assigned to the now closed Origami Killer case. Though it was Jayden who single-handedly solved the mystery of the horrible killings, Carter was still annoyed by the man and maintained the outlook that the Bostonian was his arch-enemy.
Stepping into the room with oddball gusto, Norman boasted, "Yah see! Cartuh Blake ain't thuh oh'lee one who can kick down'ah door!", and he continued with, "I think I…I…"
His voice had trailed off; the sight before him had put him at a loss for words. Upon fully realizing what was taking place inside Perry's office his pale green eyes widened to their greatest extent and he ceased to move as he was paralyzed by pure shock. Though all three men were completely still now, unsure of what to do.
Blake's bad day had just gotten seriously worse; now the two men who could really get under his skin were both witnessing him in a time of great humiliation and one of them was doing it to him.
The silence was broken by a cheery, pleasant female voice that got louder as its owner got closer to the doorway, "Norman you know I'm not ready to re-enact scenes from Aliens! And what is all this going around kicking doors open today? You certainly are– Oh my…"
The woman stopped behind Norman, taken aback by the delicate situation they had walked into just like him.
In that instant, Lieutenant Carter Blake nearly died when he saw who it was – standing right behind the interloping federal agent was none other than the great crime novelist and detective Jessica Beatrice Fletcher herself! Now his even worse day had just become the worst day of his entire life. Not only was his moment of complete degradation being viewed by the two men he hated most, but now it would be witnessed by one of his personal heroes.
"Christ… Why not throw in some hot, legal Asian schoolgirls to gawk at me just for icing on this shitty cake!", Carter thought dryly.
Ironically enough, a squad of rather attractive North Korean schoolgirls in navy blue uniforms quietly entered the room; slipping behind Norman and Jessica to spread out so that the whole group could see the spectacle.
It was then that Carter began to wonder what divine entity in the universe wanted to bring him such vengeful suffering; and began questioning whether or not he'd been a little too brutal toward others in his career as a policeman. If Perry's closed off little hellhole had a window he'd have surely jumped out of it in order to kill himself, but alas, he was trapped and forced to face further shame.
Jayden was the first to speak directly, "Cartuh… I di'n't know you an' Perry were… I mean who'duh thought! An' people said pairin' us up was wee'ird an' unthinkahble!"
Blake's response shot out of his mouth like a bullet, "This isn't what it looks like! It's an office-wide check for lice! There's been a horrible case of the little bastards goin' around and we need to put a stop to 'em!"
The lieutenant then pulled Perry's silky panties down a little further but looked away towards the wall as he nervously hummed before letting the waistband of the garments snap back into place; cheerfully noting, "Looks like we're clear there, Captain! I guess that finishes–"
Leighton cut him off sharply with, "Shut up, Blake! You were about to toss my salad like a pretty new inmate in the cellblock!", then turned his aggression towards the intruders, "And what's with the dame and the sneaky Japs?"
It was Jessica's turn to chime in, "Actually Captain Perry, these bright young girls are from North Korea. They are a select group of 22 year old members of Kim II-sung University who have been chosen to come to the United States as part of a program to attempt to bring peace between the two countries. I have been asked to show them around a few cities and look after them during their stay, and the FBI assigned my longtime friend Agent Jayden here to travel alongside us as a precaution."
(Actually the aforementioned girls were ruthless spies sent by Kim Jong-il to learn US government secrets and possibly hijack a few experimental aerial fighters. Thankfully Jessica had caught onto their scheme almost minutes after she'd been introduced to all of them at the airport and was now leading them to all sorts of useless and random places; effectively making their mission a failure. In fact, this had probably been the most interesting thing they'd seen their entire trip.)
"And just who the hell are you?", Perry inquired with an air of arrogance.
The famed New England author introduced herself with politeness despite the captain's hostility, "I'm Jessica Fletcher. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain."
Almost as soon as he heard the name, Leighton's facial expression turned sour as though a foul odor was in the air, "Yes, you're that lady who goes around sticking her nose in police business where it doesn't belong so you can get little tidbits for your books that you push out year after year like CBS does with crappy crime dramas and unfunny sitcoms. Well Mrs. Fletcher you'll be happy to know that you've got a reader right in this office; Lieutenant Blake puts his face in your books exactly like he was about to his face in between my legs!"
"Oh…well it's always nice to meet a fan!", she said as she gave a quick nod to Carter who was still on his knees.
Though all he could manage in response was a nervous smile before looking back down at the ground, "Dammit! She knows I'm a fan! Now I'll never be able to show myself at her book signings! That means we'll never get to become pen pals and that means we'll never become friends! Oh but that rat bastard gets to be all buddy buddy with her because he's a hotshot Fibbie from Boston with a goofy accent! Hey, wait a minute! That means I'll never be able to show her the novel I'm writing either! If that asshole Jayden is writing a book of his own I swear to god I'm gonna blow his fuckin' brains out here and now!"
Norman smirked, "Yeah eh'cept when they wanna have yah take'ah look att'ah book they're writing!" His voice changed to a hysterical mocking tone, "Ohhhhh Mizzez Fletchah I think yah so great! I've read all'ah yah books! Can I write lett'uhs to yah in Cab'et Cove? Maybe you can look at ah miz'tuhree nahvel I'm workin' on so yah can tell me it's wonduhful an' I'll be ah great ah'thuh jus' like you!"
Jessica rolled her eyes and then playfully swatted the federal agent on the arm, "Oh now, Jayden, not everyone's like that! And just because I said your novella was good does not mean you need to be getting a big ego all of the sudden, young man."
He laughed, "Yeah, yeah I know. I guess I should be thankful yah put me through to yah publishah 'cuz I might'ah nevah gaht it published oth'uhwise. I reellie feel that it's mai doo'tie tuh give back tuh thuh lituhairee world. Especially since there's so many terribull books out there right now with hahrriblull plots an' unreelistic characters."
At that moment, Blake's right hand moved toward his holster on his hip, but he would become greatly displeased upon realizing he'd left his gun at his desk; so all he could do was remain still as he silently fumed over the whole thing.
Perry broke up the conversation between the two, "I'm glad my office has become the stage for the next version of The View. While we're at it we can call up and invite Scott Shelby's mother at the home so she can take Whoopi Goldberg's place!" He then gave a fake chuckle before snapping at Norman, "Now tell me just what the hell you're doing here, Agent Jayden!"
The federal agent blinked for a moment, then adjusted his tie, "Well I…uh…"
Ending Notes: *Dramatic Cliffhanger* For simplicity's sake I am breaking the story down into chapters. Stay tuned for further updates!