Original article posted by Soft_Pen:

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP…

Rodney’s head was pulsing in time with the music coming from down the hall. A dull, not entirely unpleasant throb that was an echo of the techno music being played at the party in 4B. The occasional shouts and loud laughter that accompanied it served as subtle reminders to Rodney that life existed outside of his small room. But reminders of this type are often ignored by Rodney.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring bleakly at the two objects which had occupied his attention for the last fifteen minutes- the pile of dirty laundry in the light blue bakset, and the Playstation 2. Both demanded satisfaction of him, and he weighed the choices available to him. Muttering, he picked up the laundry basket and headed towards the door.

No sooner had he turned down hall towards the laundry room than his eyes were blinded by white light.

“GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR, RIGHT NOW!”

Rodney couldn’t see the voice behind light, but he could make out dark, bulky shapes to either side of it. “Who are you?” he asked.

“ON YOUR STOMACH, HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD! RIGHT THE HELL NOW!”

“Can you tell me what this is about?”

“STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT, ASSHOLE! TAZE ‘IM, FRANK!”

One of the dark shapes quickly stepped forward, holding something in its hand. The next instant, Rodney was collapsing to the ground, his body no longer responding to his commands. Sharp, hot streaks of pain lanced up and down his body, pulling his nerves and his muscles tight. The laundry fell off to his left side, the pungent contents mercifully catching his face before the floor did. Fighting unconsciousness, Rodney turned his eyes toward his attacker, saw the words C.C. S.W.A.T. on the black body armor of the man who had just tazered him.

As he fell into oblivion, his last thought was the simple regret he didn’t opt for the Playstation 2.

* * * * * *
Rodney felt himself slowly swimming upwards towards lucidity. It was slow work, and he fell back into sleep twice before he was finally able to open his eyes. He was in a small room, obviously a hospital room. Various monitors and medical devices formed a semicircle in front of him, and tall green curtains were pulled shut, closing him off from the rest of the room. He felt a kneading sensation on where he guessed his arm was, and he slowly turned his head to the right. A female nurse in violet scrubs was strapping an identification bracelet on his wrist. It was still too early to form coherent words, so he let the woman continue with her ministrations uninterrupted.

As he lay there, his mind begain to work on the question of why he had been tazered, drugged (which explains his current mental state) and brough to the hospital. Then he heard booted footsteps approaching, and turned back to his left. The curtains parted, and three men entered his little chamber. All wore the same black body armor and combat fatigues, the writing written in white across the chest: C.C. S.W.A.T. The man standing foremost removed his helmet, cradled it in crook of his left arm. Rodney read the name tag: BARNES. His face was well-padded with heavy jowls. His belly, almost perfectly round, stood out over his belt like an enormous beachball. In the holster on his right hip was an enormous pistol. He grinned evilly.

“Wakey, wakey, you little drug-pushing shit.”

Rodney only lifted his eyebrows slightly in surprise.

“What, ain’t you got no smart comeback, druggie? That’ll be all, nurse.” The nurse quickly picked up her things and left, drawing the curtain closed. Rodney heard her close a heavier door on her way out. He looked back at Barnes.

Barnes was grinning again, and the goons behind him were chuckling.

“Looks like that tazer done fried the druggies’ nervous system, an’ he can’t talk none. Let’s help him out some. Right about now, your response shoulda been: ‘I ain’t no druggie, you got the wrong guy!'”.

Barnes lited up one meaty hand, scratched his bulbous nose.

“So, you tazered me without any explanation because you think I do drugs?”

“I KNOW you do drugs.”

“And how are you going to prove that?”

“With a drug test we done while you was sleepin’. It’s finished, and ready to be took back with us to the station.”

Rodney stared hard at Barnes, “What were the results?”

Barnes’ mouth twitched. “You’ll find out soon enough, druggie. If I was you, I’d concentrate that druggie brain of yours real hard, and try to be good. Yer in a shit load of trouble, druggie.” Barnes smirked with an air of triumph, and the goons nodded their heads.

“‘SEE SEE SWAT’. Cedar City has a SWAT team?” Rodney laughed. “Congratulations on your apprehension of a dangerous college student who was doing some laundry. Do you also bust little old ladies who double park?”

Barnes’ plump face reddened. “Don’t go gettin’ smart with me druggie, or I’ll have to start knockin’ some manners into ya.” He pulled his nightstick from behind, began tapping it against his left leg.

“Well, I just wonder if your arms could reach me past that bloated bag of a stomach.”

The tapping stopped. Barnes’ face closed in on itself, his fury pulling the pudgy folds into bright, crimson balls. His voice trembled with rage: “Looks like we’re gonna have to teach ya some manners after all, druggie.” He took a step forward, the billy club raised above his head.

Just as Rodney felt his body snap into combat readiness, he heard the door open. Barnes stopped dead in his tracks, lowered his nightstick. Measured footsteps approached. The curtains parted, and a man in a white lab coat entered the enclosement.

As the adrenalin in his system withdrew, Rodney focused his senses on the newcomer. He was short, with asiatic features. He had close-cropped hair, jet black. His dark eyes moved from Rodney to the three men, and then back again. Rodney instantly noted how the man held himself. Poised, alert, like a fighter. His instincts told him that this was a dangerous man. Rodney noted that Barnes and his goons weren’t registering the man as a threat. The man smiled pleasantly.

“Good evening. I’m doctor Shu. I’m here to patient this man.”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed. “Who are you? Don’t remember seein’ no Japohnese docs in here, before.”

Shu smiled again. “I’m Chinese, not Japanese. I’m new here.”

Barnes looked distrustful, said: “Well, yer gonna hafta leave until we’re done questionin’ the subject.” Barnes’ goons stepped in close behind.

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave until I can finish with my examination. The patient is entitled to some privacy.” Shu’s face hardened briefly.

“Hey, ain’t you listenin’? We ain’t goin’ nowhere until we’re done. Can’t you read english?” He pointed to the words on his chest. “We’re cops, and we’re gonna question this druggie shit right now. So fuck off, gook!”

Shu dropped his head in a sigh, then looked up at Barnes again. His eyes had turned to black diamonds in his face. He took a slow step towards Barnes. Rodney tensed, sensing the violence, unsurprised that these three inepts could not.

Barnes raised his club, his face sweating and rigid. The last thing he ever saw was Shu’s hand appearing magically beside his face. He felt a blinding pain in his neck, just under his chin, and then he knew no more.

Barnes’ goons never had a chance. They stood imobilized, shocked as they watched the diminuitive man bring down their boss without a sound. Shu struck the left goon in the lower abdoment with three fingers, then turned on the other, hitting him in the left temple. Both collapsed without a word.

Shu turned to face Rodney. Rodney was amazed. He understood what had just happened, but was surprised at the fact that his eyes were able to follow the exchange of lightning-quick blows. The goon squad certainly hadn’t been up to the task.

“Well?” asked Shu.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” the smile again.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Oddly enough, Rodney felt completely at ease around Shu. By rights, he shouldn’t feel safe at all, in light of the terror Shu had just unleashed on Barnes and his goons, and yet ye did, all the same. His only shock of the night came next:

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Ravenpaine.”

Orginal comments:


Nickname: Stephanie
Re: What Really Happend the Night of Rodney’s Arrest
hahahaha….Bravo!


Nickname: Edward_Nigma
Re: What Really Happend the Night of Rodney’s Arrest
….. A little dissapointed in the choice of language… good plot development.

I Like this one to.
Elder Russell M. Nelson
Priesthood Session
4 October 2003
Now is the time to prepare for your own ultimate interview. You might ask yourself: “….Is my language free from obscenities and swearing? Am I morally righteous? Am I truly grateful for the Atonement that makes my resurrection a reality and eternal life a possibility? Do I honor temple covenants that seal loved ones to me forever?” If you can honestly say yes, you are developing power in the priesthood.

🙂


Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: What Really Happend the Night of Rodney’s Arrest
To answer your question on that one it would be.

No
No
No
No
well looks like I am going to hell according to this guy, of course I am going to hell so i guess he is right, except i am making way for the master here before I go to hell.

As for the story that was pretty good, I thought it was a true story and you started to exhaderate it a bit. hehe

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