I’m not usually up to speed this early in the morning, especially not at work, but I got to bed early last night and the boss isn’t here today, or so I thought. “ Robert”, how he gets away with that accent, I just don’t know. “yes inspector! Thought you would be out for the day?” I chirp confidently. “youz would like that very much soz you can dig in my fings hey?” “Would never dream of it sir” because I did that two weeks into the job. “Was just wondering sir…” he cuts me off “I has a very important job for you today laaitie” no doubt the cleaner can do it. “youz know the room we put da riot gear in…” “We have riot gear?” “Ha ha, not yet, but as soon as you cleans the old toilets out, we will also have a place to put them, you are going to meet a whole new range of orgasm today.” “you probably mean organisms sir” “sis man, we can’t use words like that boy, the community will hear you.” What a wanker “yes sir, no sir, sorry sir.” “So get to it, and don’t take all day.” “No sir, may I use your nose as a broom sir?” “What did you say?” “The room sir, can I hose down the room?” to loud I think “yes man, but be fast.”
The inspector is a funny sort of person, he has been in the police for ever and the new rules never got through to him for some reason. He is a traditionalist Afrikaner and is quite set in his ways. He has a great moustache that gave me the impression, the first time I saw it, of a magician doing the nail in the nose trick, with a broom handle. He is a fair, though paranoid man and seeing that he hasn’t come to terms with modern day policing, is probably the best candidate to head up this small township police station seeing that we are only ten members.
I am Sergeant Robert Dan Anger or as I like to think of myself…
BOBBY DANGER: RURAL POLICE.
I feel no confidence in attempting my given challenge, as I’m sure ‘they’ will be watching. Yes, the rats. Or to drive it home… “THE RATS” creepy music in the background included. You see, this is no place for policemen, or anyone not sufficiently armed. The three most dangerous things in this township are, in no particular order, rats, chickens and donkeys. The water comes in a close fourth. The rats here carry automatic rifles and move about like trained commandos. I once watched a rat run under the roof at full speed, bracing it self between the wall and roof beam, with nothing but a seven foot drop beneath it. I actually sprayed it with pepper spray, and you know what it did? It welcomed the fiery juice with a gapping mouth. The chickens are even worse. The other day I was patrolling, only to stop for the foul creature to, of all things, cross the road. And what did I see dangling from the bird’s mouth? One of Rambo’s rats. True story. The donkeys I can’t even think about. That is a whole other story.
So, being the brave and duty driven individual that I am, I check the room for rats and donkeys, give the all clear and slip the cleaning staff a twenty to finish the job. So before you can say “ where did he go?” I am out of there for a drive, a smoke and some free time. Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone else can always do it.
