complying mood!” BT shouted.
“This isn’t a request!” the officer shouted, putting his microphone down. “We are the law!” BT laughed. “Where have you been, man! There IS no law!”
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” the cop shouted in warning.
“And then what? You gonna take the law into your own hands?” BT mocked him.
“This is a checkpoint and we are authorized to search every car that comes this way.”
“Then I can solve all of our problems, we’ll just turn around and you can search the next citizen that comes along!” “I’m not going to tell you again, NIGGER, get your ass on the pavement.” “Go fuck yourself pig wannabe,” BT answered, remarkably calm. “I think that went well,” BT told Meredith as he reentered the car.
Meredith’s eyes were huge. BT was under the impression she didn’t think it went quite as spectacularly.
“You ready Tracy ?” BT turned and asked her.
“Kids, you keep your heads down,” she said, staring at each one of them until they gave her a sign that they would do what she asked.
“Meredith when I tell you, I want you to head right for the illustrious Officer Gibson and hopefully we’ll get lucky.” "You… you want me to hit him?"
"Oh no hon, I want you to run his cracker ass over," BT told her with a smile on his face.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"First things first. GO!" He shouted at Meredith and Tracy simultaneously.
The rear tires on the truck momentarily spun in place before leaving black skids. Tracy 's Subaru struggled to meet the initial thrust of Meredith's truck. Meredith started to creep over to the right to avoid the cop car. "Hit him Meredith," BT said calmly.
Officer Gibson was a doughnut away from becoming road kill. As it was, he was fairly certain his ankle had been shattered as the giant’s girlfriend's car slammed into his door and slammed it into his leg as he dove in a futile attempt to get out of the way.
“FUCK!” Officer Gibson shouted.
“You all right Aaron?” the lone male occupant in the back of the car asked, sitting up.
Gun shots rang out as the two cars sped past the idling cruisers.
“I think my damn ankle is broken,” Officer Gibson gritted out through his teeth as he plowed through the contents of his middle console. He found the prescription bottle he was searching for and immediately downed three Oxycontins, courtesy of the last car they had pulled over. The occupants of that ill-fated voyage now found themselves lying face down in the grass not a mile from this exact location. The bitch had wailed when Officer Gibson had taken her pills, something about chronic back pain. ‘Yeah, well, now you’ve got chronic face pain,’ he’d said as he drilled her hard in the face with a right hook. The four men he was with had all laughed as Mrs. Pinchant fell to the ground, blood flowing profusely from her split lip and the gap where her tooth used to reside. Her husband cried equally as hard after the third member of the rogue police force lined up and punted his balls up into his sternum. After Mr. Pinchant died from the blunt force trauma, the men proceeded to piss on his body.
The real ‘fun’ came as they placed his head by the rear wheel of the cruiser. Two of the men held Mrs. Pinchant’s heaving body still so that she could watch as Officer Gibson slowly ran over Mr. Pinchant’s head. The tire gripped the front portion of his face, and his cheek and nose began to pull away from his face under the pressure. For a moment the heavy car started to ‘climb’ up his face, but gravity was not on Mr. Pinchant’s side as bone after bone began to crack and shatter from the pressure. The back of his head started to swell to almost twice its normal size before it burst under the strain. Brain matter shot nearly 30 feet away from the back of the cruiser and the men laughed. Mrs. Pinchant had long since passed out from the strain. The two holding her released her. Her head bounced off the
“This isn’t a request!” the officer shouted, putting his microphone down. “We are the law!” BT laughed. “Where have you been, man! There IS no law!”
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” the cop shouted in warning.
“And then what? You gonna take the law into your own hands?” BT mocked him.
“This is a checkpoint and we are authorized to search every car that comes this way.”
“Then I can solve all of our problems, we’ll just turn around and you can search the next citizen that comes along!” “I’m not going to tell you again, NIGGER, get your ass on the pavement.” “Go fuck yourself pig wannabe,” BT answered, remarkably calm. “I think that went well,” BT told Meredith as he reentered the car.
Meredith’s eyes were huge. BT was under the impression she didn’t think it went quite as spectacularly.
“You ready Tracy ?” BT turned and asked her.
“Kids, you keep your heads down,” she said, staring at each one of them until they gave her a sign that they would do what she asked.
“Meredith when I tell you, I want you to head right for the illustrious Officer Gibson and hopefully we’ll get lucky.” "You… you want me to hit him?"
"Oh no hon, I want you to run his cracker ass over," BT told her with a smile on his face.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"First things first. GO!" He shouted at Meredith and Tracy simultaneously.
The rear tires on the truck momentarily spun in place before leaving black skids. Tracy 's Subaru struggled to meet the initial thrust of Meredith's truck. Meredith started to creep over to the right to avoid the cop car. "Hit him Meredith," BT said calmly.
Officer Gibson was a doughnut away from becoming road kill. As it was, he was fairly certain his ankle had been shattered as the giant’s girlfriend's car slammed into his door and slammed it into his leg as he dove in a futile attempt to get out of the way.
“FUCK!” Officer Gibson shouted.
“You all right Aaron?” the lone male occupant in the back of the car asked, sitting up.
Gun shots rang out as the two cars sped past the idling cruisers.
“I think my damn ankle is broken,” Officer Gibson gritted out through his teeth as he plowed through the contents of his middle console. He found the prescription bottle he was searching for and immediately downed three Oxycontins, courtesy of the last car they had pulled over. The occupants of that ill-fated voyage now found themselves lying face down in the grass not a mile from this exact location. The bitch had wailed when Officer Gibson had taken her pills, something about chronic back pain. ‘Yeah, well, now you’ve got chronic face pain,’ he’d said as he drilled her hard in the face with a right hook. The four men he was with had all laughed as Mrs. Pinchant fell to the ground, blood flowing profusely from her split lip and the gap where her tooth used to reside. Her husband cried equally as hard after the third member of the rogue police force lined up and punted his balls up into his sternum. After Mr. Pinchant died from the blunt force trauma, the men proceeded to piss on his body.
The real ‘fun’ came as they placed his head by the rear wheel of the cruiser. Two of the men held Mrs. Pinchant’s heaving body still so that she could watch as Officer Gibson slowly ran over Mr. Pinchant’s head. The tire gripped the front portion of his face, and his cheek and nose began to pull away from his face under the pressure. For a moment the heavy car started to ‘climb’ up his face, but gravity was not on Mr. Pinchant’s side as bone after bone began to crack and shatter from the pressure. The back of his head started to swell to almost twice its normal size before it burst under the strain. Brain matter shot nearly 30 feet away from the back of the cruiser and the men laughed. Mrs. Pinchant had long since passed out from the strain. The two holding her released her. Her head bounced off the
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