Excerpt

Pete was a cop, but not like the cops we have today. He didn't carry a machine gun and had never beat anyone up in the name of security. He never smoked the drugs he confiscated, nor did he get a cut of the property he seized. Times were quite different at the beginning of the century, kids.

Pete was a cop, yes, but unlike most cops, even back then, he wasn't a fucking dick. As a child, he hadn't been a bully, hall monitor, or tattletale, and despite these psychological red flags, had gotten into the academy anyway.

Pete honestly wanted to serve his community. Back then, you could still say 'community' without everybody cracking up. He wanted to actually protect and serve, and not protect and serve the fucking hell out of you, like our cops today.

Oh, sure, back then they had cops like we got now. Many, if not most, were cruel, evil bastards who sprouted wood watching weaklings squirm under the boot. But that was officially frowned upon. Police brutality was still prosecuted in those days, although those accused automatically got off or were given a slap on the wrist for show. Nowadays, of course, 'police brutality' is a redundant phrase.

Pete was genuinely a good guy. He really wanted to help and often did. One time he had found a toddler who had wandered out of his yard while his mother was having an anxiety attack in the bathroom after her boyfriend had dumped her. The poor little guy could have been easily run over by an energy drink truck or something. Turns out he was just a few houses down, playing in the yard of another family.

Pete was all over that case like dots on dice, solving it in short order and averting disaster. Triumphantly, he steered the little guy home to a life of moderate to severe neglect due to parental self-absorption. "Maybe he'll grow up to be tortured rock star," thought Pete wistfully as he delivered the boy back to his mother, who was pleading on the phone with Rick, her former boyfriend, to take her back.

"Pleeeeeaaase," she was begging into the phone as Pete climbed back into his police cruiser. "I'll suck your cock so good, baby."

Pete had done many things in his career of which he was proud. He had probably gotten more than a hundred drunk drivers off the road. He had personally convinced a drug-addled prostitute to go into rehab. He had prevented two armed robberies and had even administered CPR to a car crash victim, saving her life.

In the summer of 2018, Pete was working the Q1 Music Festival and quite enjoying himself. He liked working special events, finding them quite fun and varied, as opposed to patrolling in his cruiser, which could often be quite repetitive. He was on foot, keeping an eye on what had been deemed Zone 7, which was mainly the area of concessions and picnic tables, when a young woman ran up to him and asked for help.

"I was just in the bathroom," she said breathlessly, "and I'm pretty sure someone was spying on me."

from EOoN, Volume Two (The Port-A-Potty Peeper); release date December/January