CHAPTER 2: Disgruntled DIC's
Before becoming a DIC, Walsh was a successful, yet highly shrewd, businessman. "YOU TELL THOSE GOD DAMN KRAUTS THAT WE'RE NOT SETTLING HIGHER THAN 17 AND A QUARTER!" "I DON'T CARE WHAT THE BALANCE SHEET SAYS, DAVE!" But when his firm when belly-up, he expunged what he had saved in his retirement account and went back to school for a criminal justice degree. Not quite the path Walsh thought he'd be on right now.
The path forked harder when he learned of his new assignment with Bohner. "Are you shittin' me?!? You're pairing me with Boner? Police detectives still work in pairs?!? God dammit, I thought I was better than that... better than to deserve some bitch rookie sidekick!" Chief Gibbons didn't have the time for Walsh's outcry. "This is how it is, this is what our taxpayers and law makers dictate. I'm sorry if it's not what you expected, Walsh. Regardless of who you think you are, you still need a partner, and you might find out that Bohner will be a good asset." Walsh appeared to instantly decline Gibbons' input, and then approached Bohner. "Well it looks like I'm working the beat with you Boner," Walsh announced as PMB was shuffling through paperwork.
"It's Bon-hurr," Bohner retorted. "Not until you've earned your stripes in my book, Boner," Walsh commented. "You know what this is, Boner?" Walsh had went from pissed-off to scatterbrained. "Looks like a drug-sniffing black Labrador retriever." Bohner was a little surprised that Walsh had produced a drug-sniffing dog so quickly. "You're god damn right, Boner... her name is Shelly... but you can refer to her as FG417... got it Boner?" "Loud and clear, Walsh."
"Shelly can smell semen from over 55 feet away, and drugs from even farther. "
"That's remarkable," Bohner cautiously agreed.
"You're god damn right it's remarkable, Boner! Shelly has done more with her life in 21 dog years then you've done with however many you've been around for.."
"I'm 27, Walsh." Bohner asserted himself.
"Yeah, well Shelly is still twice the god damn cop you are, do you understand god dammit?"
"But she's a dog." Bohner retorted.
"She's a god damn cop dog, god dammit!"
"But with all due respect, you've never seen me in the field, Sergeant Walsh"
"That's god damn right Boner, and if it were up to me... I would never have to see you in the dog damn field."
"Did you say dog damn?" Bohner queried.
"I most certainly did not, god dammit!"
"Oh, sorry" apologized Bohner.
"Son... of... a.... BITCH!"
That was the last of their morning exchanges as Walsh just poured scalding hot generic coffee all over his Haggard slacks -- some of which found itself onto his Van Heusen dress shirt. He left the DIC room in disgruntled dismay. Walsh would make several attempts at cleaning his scorching hot coffee stain from his Haggards, but after making a wet spot only wetter, he decided to head home after half a day and have sex with his Trophy wife.
"I'm heading home to nail my Trophy Wife," Walsh announced to the break room.
For more on Trophy Wife Nailing, click here
For more on Trophy Wife Nailing, click here
