Its Summertime (Fiction)

Its Summertime

I'm walking down the street and it feels like my skin is going to melt off of my bones, but luckily I've got my jumbo freezie to keep me cool. I look up and I see a nest of birds with some freshly hatched chicks and I immediately imagine what would happen if I liter by this nest of birds- the mother would fly down, pick up the freezie wrapper, attempt to feed it to her children, and they would probably die. Then again there is always the chance that the mother would get her head stuck in the wrapper and she would suffocate to death in front of her chicks damning them to a life of oddities since their mother is deceased. Either or is a comical scenario.

I snicker, drop the wrapper, and continue on my stroll when police officer save-the-earth comes up to me and asks me if I littered. Now officer dicknuts here is the kind of cop who would nail you for spitting on the sidewalk, totally up strung and angry. So he asks once more if I threw the wrapper. I tell him no even though he saw my do it clearly. He states this. I ask him what proof he has. He threatens to finger print me.

“Are you honestly going to go to all this hassle to nail me on a summary offence?” I ask him blatantly. “Shouldn’t you be out catching child molesters and drug addicts? I mean come on, what’s the big deal here, marriage problems?” By now the cop is giving me an uncomfortable stare that tells me I just hit the nail on the head. He grunts. “Look if you decide to NOT process that ticket I have a number you can call.” He sounds interested by now. I write some random number down on a piece of paper and I give it to him. “Now remember, when you call ask for a guy named Steve, and only call in between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM. Any other time, this guy is just a normal guy.”

He thanks me and leaves. I snicker to myself.

My name is Mav and I’m an asshole.