Comparing the discarded shell casings…

But first…
Dulltown, UK/Europe: Today’s planet is the one where all the land masses on the surface are infested with idiots.

No, I should really just stop watching them. But there are so many!
Switch the TV on and there’s bound to be one available on a nearby channel when you are trying to avoid all the sport and the politics. Some are half-hour ones, some take a full hour to unfold. Yes, they are those real-life police detective miscreant perpetrator drama-investigations, both American and occasionally British. Oh, they are so miserable and depressing, people at their worst, being awful and selfish towards their fellow humans. No wonder these shows are so very popular!
But of course when you start on one you are certain that it will eventually cheer you up and that it will end well (they don’t make shows that end badly, they couldn’t leave the crime unsolved), the bad guy/gal, the perp, will be arrested and eventually have powerful clean justice served upon them. You can see them in the last five minutes, with they grey slab-like empty faces standing there waiting for the court official, or the boss juror, or the judge, to say, in a calm, but gleeful voice, ‘The death penalty!’, or ‘Thirty years in clink, you nasty mean bastard – you deserve every bloody minute of it!’ Well no, perhaps not that last one, but that’s what is in the mind of the viewer as they loll on their couch swigging their beer and munching their Pringles.
Me?… I make the excuse that I only watch these things so that I can jot down bits of dramatic disconnected dialogue and voice-over snatches for use in a blog post – like this one here…

An anonymous telephone call – a run-down neighbourhood – a sultry thirty-one-year-old – footprints leading away – a big red flag – a little out of his element – a last-minute change of plan – love triangles – the mastermind behind it all – get a chance to compare the bullets – it was not the murder weapon after all – he now drops down the list of suspects – a smart savvy businessman – they grapple with that very same question – it was dead-end, after dead-end – was there something more sinister? – another telephone call to the station – fifty-thousand dollars? – that man in the red Dodge truck – he was not an upstanding character – but the story didn’t end there – someone had gotten out – it was that other unidentified footprint – our highly skilled technicians – you wouldn’t think it to see him now – it was to be life without parole…

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in brain, drama, existentialism, humour, information, puzzle, science, style, surrealism, TV, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Comparing the discarded shell casings…

  1. Sharon Mann says:

    Yes, you are watching the police dramas for research…good story Dave, and how was the beer and Pringles.

  2. memadtwo says:

    They are infested with idiots every day it seems…

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