The beats of the music came to pause when the D.J. saw the car come crashing the club’s brick wall. I was astonished to see the green Honda that came through the club to not have any major damage. Although, I was not surprised to see the driver stumble out of the car and throw his empty bottle of Dubra vodka into the crowd of people. The driver then tried to abandon the nasty scene until an enormous bouncer clothes-lined him and brought him upstairs to the owner of the club. I looked to my left and saw three injured girls and one guy facedown on the club floor…dead. I knew I was going to be stuck here for a long time being interviewed by police.
Without a moment to spare, I heard the sirens of ambulance and of course the pigs. The police in providence will try to find anything wrong with you just to make themselves look good, while in reality they are no different than anyone. Unless the really are scumbag cops that are not working for the law. They’re full of themselves as any guy with a gun and badges usually are. As the first two police officers came in, they began to interview the people that stuck around. Then they came around to ask me questions and I already had smelt a strong stench of corruption. The first cop asked me if I saw the guy drive through the building. I thought I’d be polite and give them an answer that they’d want to hear, when I knew they didn’t really care of what I had to say. They were then asking me dumb questions like if I personally knew of the drunk that drove through the club. What are the chances of me knowing the dumbass? I couldn’t help but laugh at them. They didn’t think it was too funny, but gave them my final statement in a fashion that I would recommend to anyone that shares my hatred towards any authority figure. I told them I was only here trying to have a good time and then I told them if they had any further questions, they could kiss my ass. I probably shouldn’t have said anything because they both put me on the ground faster than I thought any doughnut eating pig normally would. They then proceeded to yell at me and tell me I was interfering with the investigation. They slapped the handcuffs on me without any judgment or question of who I could be. I could have their badges taken off their fat torso’s faster than they can read me my rights. I told them that I was a defense lawyer and then their pale face’s turned to a nice egg white color. They swore to themselves then took the cuffs off me and apologized without missing a beat. They then asked if I wanted to come upstairs to talk to the drunk driver about being represented. I wasn’t going to turn down the offer, it was like they were asking me if I wanted to come upstairs and get paid.
I followed the obese jelly filled doughnuts up the stairs. I turned my head to look at all the injured people get carried away in stretchers by the paramedics. Then I saw the dead guy get put in a body bag and thought to myself, what did the poor schmuck do to deserve dying tonight? He must have done something terrible to get plowed by a car when he’s trying to enjoy himself at the club. As I came to the threshold of the door to the owner’s room, I saw my future client all beaten and bloody from his drunken voyage. The cops asked him if he was able to speak, while standing him up to put the handcuffs on him that were previously on me. The driver was trying to make words of his mumbling speech but he couldn’t because of the amount of alcohol he must have running through his system. The cops gave him a breathalyzer to take record of his blood alcohol content, and then proceeded to read him his rights. After they were telling him all those lies, I tried getting some sense into him and telling him to not say anything. I gave him my business card and saw the owner look scared while he was peering through the window of his club.
I stuck around to hear what the cops had to talk about with the owner. I overheard them asking the owner of the club if he had insurance and he said the most painful thing I could imagine in this situation…no. The intrigued cops then asked how he manages to own his club without any insurance. That was probably the smartest question the cops have asked all night. I could almost see the owner sweat through his shirt. I could then tell there was more than one shady no-good crook in my vicinity. The cops had made a good call to have the German Sheppard’s’ come sniff out the club. The dogs started barking at a closet that was in the owner’s office. The cops opened up the closet and found a nice assortment of illegal drugs. There were enough drugs to cover every different letter in the alphabet. Both of the cops’ eyes lit up like they were enjoying a nice chocolate frosted doughnut. They both looked at each other with a lust that would make an obese couple to bring each other to the nearest buffet, and then turned their attention to the owner of the club. The owner knew he was going to march to jail after the look that the cops gave him. The happy police officers gladly hand-cuffed the owner without any remorse of his situation. They read him his rights and began to escort him out of the room. The owner turned his bald head towards me and asked if I would be his attorney. I laughed out loud and gave him my business card. One of the cops looked at me and told me I must feel good representing all kinds of scum. I replied by telling him to not blame me but to blame the justice system. I also added that the justice system is not what it should be because it pays doughnut craving scum to represent the law and wear a badge and carry a gun. The cop then turned his face and winked at me. I left the club after that childish argument with providence’s finest. As I got to my car I soon discovered a parking ticket on my car. I must have picked a good night to come to the club.