JonDLundyn Parker #2 23/3
June 14th 2007 08:54
The cells behind Newcastle Central Police Station were clinically clean but almost as old as the station itself. Painted with a semi-gloss pale government green. There was no bed as Roscoe was in a day holding cell. There was a bench bolted to the wall and a stainless steel toilet bowl without a lid. In one corner stood a stainless steel sink and cold water tap. He heard the sound of men laughing and walking toward his cell. Four young hard looking police constables in light tracksuits stood outside his cell door and observed him. They each carried a police truncheon, Roscoe noted. There was a nervous glow of sweat on one man’s brow and others stood on tip toe to increase their height. All four were in a state of high nervous tension. One swayed to and fro tapping his truncheon into his empty hand. The two on tip toe lowered themselves and again stretched their body height. Roscoe’s lips dried involuntarily and his huge paws slowly clenched into giant fists.
“Well Mr Tanner, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. We need to take those ladies underpants off your body for forensic testing and we need to give you a full body search, internal of course!” The men standing around him snickered and made poking motions with their truncheons. Giving Roscoe no doubt how his internal body search would be conducted.
“Well you arseholes are welcome to come in and try” he said with out getting off the bench. His eyes narrowed and his stomach gave an involuntary heave as he thought of the coming battle. For it was going to be a battle. Nobody was going to stick a police truncheon up his arse!
The cop doing the talking entered a code into the cell door and it slid open with a well greased hiss. Holding his truncheon across his body he stepped in to the cell, to the left of Roscoe. The next man stood to his right. The third man entering the cell did not hold his truncheon up as he was confident that Roscoe was now under guard. He wished for the rest of his life that he had never under anticipated this ape shaped bullet headed man. He was level with the door when Roscoe sprung at him. He ducked back in to the corridor bring his truncheon up to defend himself. But Roscoe did not attack him. Nor did he try to fend off the lightning quick truncheon blows he received from the two men standing either side of him. He had grabbed the cell door and with all his strength and slammed it shut. The heavy iron edged door caught the third man on the wrist as he was backing out of the cell and continued on it’s way to slam shut in the lock. The hand was not completely severed till Roscoe ripped the truncheon from the limp wrist.
Turning like a ballet dancer, one foot clipped the second man in the groin and he dropped like a stone. The first man now on his own rained rapid blows at Roscoe’s head and shoulders trying hard to make some kind of impact. Roscoe managed to take most of the blows moving in the same direction as the energy of the blow so he was hurt but not badly affected. He reached out and grabbed the descending truncheon and held it in a vice like grip. The antagonist made a big mistake thinking that Roscoe’s aim was to rip the weapon from him. He proceeded to fight for it’s possession. It was the slight change Roscoe needed and he deftly cracked his own stick point down with full force into the ear of the man on the ground. An agonising roar came from cop two, as his eardrum burst in a frothy spray of blood. He would take no further part in the proceedings!
With his now spare truncheon Roscoe began to rain blows on cop number one as he held the cop’s truncheon in a vice like grip. The cop started to sag under the blows, his energy draining along with his will to do damage to Roscoe. Roscoe clipped him under the chin with the truncheon and he dropped like a bag of sand. He turned to the fourth cop who was helping his partner with the severed hand. “Better go and get this bloke some help”. The cop could tell it was an order not a request and raced for reinforcements from the station above.
When Alby Woo and three other cops appeared, the first cop was spreadeagled over the toilet bowl. His pants were about his ankles and a truncheon was rammed up his rectum, almost to the handle. He had bitten off part of his tongue and tears poured out of his eyes. The second cop was curled in a foetal position under the steel bench, blood oozing from his ear and a hand clutching his bruised privates. “Get in here and do your own dirty work you scumbag” Roscoe spat at Woo. “You still don’t have enough men with you to get to me.” Alby Woo, was a bent and crooked cop but still a trained cop. He had never seen such a debacle as he viewed now. His stomach turned cold and his bowels almost moved as he realised what an enemy he had made.
He was drawing his service revolver in preparation to going into the cell to finish Roscoe off when there was the sound of more men coming. He pushed his gun back into it’s holster and watched as the station duty sergeant appeared with the General. “Christ almighty” the sergeant exclaimed, “what the fuck is going on here?” … “Woo, are you responsible for this? What the hell are these guys doing in there with a prisoner? You are all in deep shit, this guy Tanner is hot property but not our hot property. ASIO want him back! Now get the fuck everybody out of here and get these men to the hospital!”
The General took one look at the mayhem spread around the inside and outside of the cell. He saw Roscoe sitting unconcerned on his bench, clasping and unclasping his big hands. “Has anybody got a smoke? I would kill for an ounce of tobacco.”
The general turned to Woo. In perfect Mandarin he informed Woo who he had offended and who would be watching over his shoulder now. He also demanded he leave his cigarettes for Roscoe. Woo was shocked. This day was not going down as one of his best. He still didn’t have the money he knew Roscoe had. He had lost face at the police station and he had been all but insulted by this old man who insinuated some group of Asian goody goodies now had it in for him. Plus he was loosing his cigarettes to the man he currently hated more than any other on this earth. He flung his partly used packet of cigarettes in Roscoe’s direction and turned on his heel and left.
“Thank you sergeant for your help. I will take poor Mr Tanner out and get him a cup of decent coffee.”
“Well Mr Tanner, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. We need to take those ladies underpants off your body for forensic testing and we need to give you a full body search, internal of course!” The men standing around him snickered and made poking motions with their truncheons. Giving Roscoe no doubt how his internal body search would be conducted.
“Well you arseholes are welcome to come in and try” he said with out getting off the bench. His eyes narrowed and his stomach gave an involuntary heave as he thought of the coming battle. For it was going to be a battle. Nobody was going to stick a police truncheon up his arse!
The cop doing the talking entered a code into the cell door and it slid open with a well greased hiss. Holding his truncheon across his body he stepped in to the cell, to the left of Roscoe. The next man stood to his right. The third man entering the cell did not hold his truncheon up as he was confident that Roscoe was now under guard. He wished for the rest of his life that he had never under anticipated this ape shaped bullet headed man. He was level with the door when Roscoe sprung at him. He ducked back in to the corridor bring his truncheon up to defend himself. But Roscoe did not attack him. Nor did he try to fend off the lightning quick truncheon blows he received from the two men standing either side of him. He had grabbed the cell door and with all his strength and slammed it shut. The heavy iron edged door caught the third man on the wrist as he was backing out of the cell and continued on it’s way to slam shut in the lock. The hand was not completely severed till Roscoe ripped the truncheon from the limp wrist.
Turning like a ballet dancer, one foot clipped the second man in the groin and he dropped like a stone. The first man now on his own rained rapid blows at Roscoe’s head and shoulders trying hard to make some kind of impact. Roscoe managed to take most of the blows moving in the same direction as the energy of the blow so he was hurt but not badly affected. He reached out and grabbed the descending truncheon and held it in a vice like grip. The antagonist made a big mistake thinking that Roscoe’s aim was to rip the weapon from him. He proceeded to fight for it’s possession. It was the slight change Roscoe needed and he deftly cracked his own stick point down with full force into the ear of the man on the ground. An agonising roar came from cop two, as his eardrum burst in a frothy spray of blood. He would take no further part in the proceedings!
With his now spare truncheon Roscoe began to rain blows on cop number one as he held the cop’s truncheon in a vice like grip. The cop started to sag under the blows, his energy draining along with his will to do damage to Roscoe. Roscoe clipped him under the chin with the truncheon and he dropped like a bag of sand. He turned to the fourth cop who was helping his partner with the severed hand. “Better go and get this bloke some help”. The cop could tell it was an order not a request and raced for reinforcements from the station above.
When Alby Woo and three other cops appeared, the first cop was spreadeagled over the toilet bowl. His pants were about his ankles and a truncheon was rammed up his rectum, almost to the handle. He had bitten off part of his tongue and tears poured out of his eyes. The second cop was curled in a foetal position under the steel bench, blood oozing from his ear and a hand clutching his bruised privates. “Get in here and do your own dirty work you scumbag” Roscoe spat at Woo. “You still don’t have enough men with you to get to me.” Alby Woo, was a bent and crooked cop but still a trained cop. He had never seen such a debacle as he viewed now. His stomach turned cold and his bowels almost moved as he realised what an enemy he had made.
He was drawing his service revolver in preparation to going into the cell to finish Roscoe off when there was the sound of more men coming. He pushed his gun back into it’s holster and watched as the station duty sergeant appeared with the General. “Christ almighty” the sergeant exclaimed, “what the fuck is going on here?” … “Woo, are you responsible for this? What the hell are these guys doing in there with a prisoner? You are all in deep shit, this guy Tanner is hot property but not our hot property. ASIO want him back! Now get the fuck everybody out of here and get these men to the hospital!”
The General took one look at the mayhem spread around the inside and outside of the cell. He saw Roscoe sitting unconcerned on his bench, clasping and unclasping his big hands. “Has anybody got a smoke? I would kill for an ounce of tobacco.”
The general turned to Woo. In perfect Mandarin he informed Woo who he had offended and who would be watching over his shoulder now. He also demanded he leave his cigarettes for Roscoe. Woo was shocked. This day was not going down as one of his best. He still didn’t have the money he knew Roscoe had. He had lost face at the police station and he had been all but insulted by this old man who insinuated some group of Asian goody goodies now had it in for him. Plus he was loosing his cigarettes to the man he currently hated more than any other on this earth. He flung his partly used packet of cigarettes in Roscoe’s direction and turned on his heel and left.
“Thank you sergeant for your help. I will take poor Mr Tanner out and get him a cup of decent coffee.”
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