By: Aithne
So, yours truly, a purveyor of fine journalistic wit (and by ‘wit‘ I mean ‘desperate attempts to make sense of this city‘), was strolling by the Clam convenience store. You know the Clam. Where dreams go to expire, and Slim Jims thrive. Anyway, I was hoping to score a raspberry slurpie, when BAM! Chaos erupts. (Are you surprised – Ed)
There he was, a guy in a hockey mask, channelling his inner Jason Voorhees, swinging a chainsaw like he’s auditioning for a lumberjack musical. We’ll call him Charlie, because apparently, that’s what the female cop bleeding on the ground called him between gasps. (You wouldn’t even have to suppose he is Charlie, that description more than fits! – Ed)
Now, second to the scene, Officer ‘Friendly’, not a fan of chainsaw ballets, pulls out his taser. Charlie, in a move that can only be described as ‘aggressively uncooperative,’ hurls the chainsaw at the officer. Think Olympic discus, but with more, moving, teeth.
We can cut Officer Friendly some slack though, he did have a whirling metal-toothed beast flying his way. So he missed Charlie and hit the door that Charlie opened to make good his escape! Charlie, meanwhile, legs it into the Clam, presumably to grab a Slim Jim for the road.
Our brave officer, probably thinking, ‘I’m too old for this Clam-ity,’ gives chase. Meanwhile, Officer ‘Down’, bleeding profusely, calls for backup.
Enter Officer #2 (or is it three) who sprints up, slaps a bandage on Officer ‘Down’, and then rushes into the Clam like he’s late for a donut-eating contest.
Now, I, being a responsible journalist (and not wanting to get tased myself), decide to ‘strategically reposition’ myself. Which is code for ‘peeking through bushes like a squirrel with a press pass.’
I find our officers peering over a cliff, and there, at the bottom, is Charlie, looking less ‘Jason’ and more ‘pancake.’ Apparently, he’d taken a shortcut. It wasn’t long before the ambulance called packed him up and whisked him away. Back at the Clam, Officer ‘Down’ was having a medical episode as well, so soon another ambulance arrived, and she’s whisked away too.
The big question? Why? Why the chainsaw? Why the Clam? Was it a dispute over the last bag of pickle-flavoured chips? Did he want a free Slurpee? Was he simply trying to return a rental tool late? We’ll probably never know. But one thing’s for sure: the Clam may never be the same; and I’m still craving that raspberry slurpy!
