By: Aithne
So, picture this: Me, on a sacred quest for caffeine, drawn by the siren song of ‘The Grind’. The objective? Coffee. Simple, noble. But Hathian, being Hathian, had other plans. As I waltzed down the street, I stumbled upon what looked less like police work and more like a dress rehearsal for ‘Apocalypse Now: The Musical’, staged inconveniently outside the local bakery.
Cops. Everywhere.
Some even decked out in the latest season’s riot gear – presumably the ‘Aggressively Uncomfortable’ collection. Seriously, you’d think they were expecting a tactical éclair assault. The bakery itself looked like it had hosted a particularly rowdy food fight. Apparently, someone inside had experienced a disagreement forceful enough to warrant an ambulance ride – a dramatic exit for someone, courtesy of the HPD.
Naturally, just as I arrived to witness this urban theater, one of HPD’s more, shall we say, compact officers decided it was Take-Your-Assault-Rifle-To-Work Day. This pint-sized dispenser of justice, let’s call her ‘Officer Oopsie’, spotted an unarmed fellow trying to perform what looked like an act of spontaneous altruism on a downed comrade of said officer. Her reaction? Clearly, the only logical response was to open fire. Pop Pop!
Later, when asked why she’d shot a guy clearly offering assistance, Officer Oopsie, channeling her inner psychic detective, declared he might have been armed. Armed with what? A particularly pointy baguette? A dangerously crusty roll? The gentleman who’d narrowly avoided becoming Swiss cheese had a different diagnosis, loudly proclaiming she was “BLIND!” Honestly, from my vantage point (roughly the same distance, but possessing the superpower of functional eyeballs), the guy was about as armed as a teddy bear and clearly trying to help. While I applaud diverse hiring practices, giving live ammunition and an itchy trigger finger to someone navigating the world via echolocation is peak HPD decision-making.
Predictably, Officer Oopsie couldn’t provide a statement herself – possibly because describing events requires, you know, seeing them. She directed me to the legendary Naka, the keeper of HPD’s Official Excuses and Vague Statements.
Just another Tuesday in Hathian, folks. Why the paramilitary pastry patrol was deployed remains a mystery. My working theory? Someone got served a day-old doughnut. It’s Hathian; that’s practically a declaration of war. But hey, the usual ingredients were there: overwhelming force for minimal reason, a firearm discharge more spurious than a politician’s promise, and someone getting an impromptu hospital tour. It all makes sense when you realize the HPD K-9 units probably double as seeing-eye dogs for their top sharpshooters.
Now, about that coffee? I suddenly felt like maybe brewing my own at home was the safer option.
