I have a story to tell you.
I recently moved in to a new house with my wife and 3 beautiful daughters. It’s a great neighborhood, with one exception. The house next to me is a dump. To make matters worse, the guy that lives there, is a fucking child molester. I saw him eyeing up my kids one day in the front yard and I knew he was trouble. My wife was robbed last week you see. Beat up bad. So, to protect my wife and children I hired not one, but two private detectives to check this guy out. I’m not gonna stand for some deadbeat pervert living next door to me. I got a family to protect.
After a few weeks, I had the evidence I needed. He was a threat, a fucking imminent one. I was right. My families safety was in jeopardy. Should I sit and wait for him to creep over one night and rape my kids? My poor frightened wife? She was freaking out, wouldn’t even go outside.
I wanted to go over there and kick his ass, pronto. But my wife, she wanted me to take some people along, just to be safe. She thought the guy was alright, but I knew better. So to please her, I enlisted some help. I went to my other neighbors houses and showed them the evidence I got from the PI. I asked them to come with me to the perverts house and back me up while I had a “talk” with him. You know, an offer he can’t refuse kind of thing. I just wanted to let him know I meant business. I had reason to believe that he was hoarding a lot of violent snuff films. There was evidence that he often kept a sexual prisoner in his basement, torturing them before he killed them.
The evidence was really overwhelming. He had two kids of his own too this guy.
Poor things, getting molested every night.
I was ready to just go do it, but some of my neighbors wanted some hard proof before they could get physical with this guy.
“Fine”, I said. “Whatever”.
So, the plan was this:
Go over there, tell him we want to talk. While we were talking, one of my neighbors would ask to use the bathroom and take a quick look around for some hard evidence to use against this guy. When our snoop found something he would come back and signal everyone, and we would pounce on the dude, teach him a good lesson. Hell, I even called a reporter to join us, record everything. I got nothing to hide. We would find all that evil stuff, get it off the streets, get rid of the damn pervert, free that tortured sex slave.
His kids would cry for joy, thanking us for saving them.
That was the plan.
So, we went over there, he let us in and we sat and talked, and told him how we wanted him to turn himself in. He denied everything of course. Our snoop asked where the bathroom was and set off while we pressured the guy to cave. We showed him the evidence we had. He acted all bewildered, of course. He was good, this guy. Really convincing. But I knew better.
Anyways, our spy comes back and sits down, no signal. Nothing. He didn’t find anything. He must have been fucking blind. So I’m really pressuring this guy now, but everyone starts telling me to back off. I’m not having it. He must have hidden it all really well. I knew it was all there somewhere. So I jump on the guy and pin him down, telling the others to help me. He starts to resist so I starts pounding on his face. What else was I to do? The guy was guilty. I had to protect my family, hell his family. I was thinking of them too.
So anyways, everyone else takes off, all freaked out. It’s just me and that useless reporter.
The cowards. I wasn’t giving in though. Not to this guy. I had a family to protect. A neighborhood to protect. So I tie him up and rough him up some more. He’s too tough this guy, a real pro, so I goes and gets his two kids out of the bedroom. They’re all crying and screaming. I tell them to tell me where Daddy keeps his stuff, his bad stuff. I tell them to tell me what he does to them every night. They just keep screaming at me to stop hurting their daddy. They won’t answer my questions.
Whatever.
One of them starts kicking me so I had to control her, and the other one too. They were so brainwashed from all that molestation, they didn’t know what they were saying. Turns out they were dangerous these kids, really aggressive. They wouldn’t tell me where the stuff was. I figured Daddy had them controlled, they were probably little molesters themselves by now. Dangerous. I did what I could to make them talk. Stuff I’m not proud of, but it had to be done. Hell, it wasn’t any worse than what their daddy was doing to them. It’s the only thing they understand anyways.
Think about this.
Would you rather tie these sickos up, rough em up some now, or do you want to wait till you catch one of them molesting your kid? Stop `em in their own house before they come over to your house is what I say.
Anyways, getting rough with `em didn’t work, so I started to tear apart the house. I knew that shit was there, that sex slave was locked up in that house, probably in the basement, behind a false wall or something.
So I tore into that house something good. Sledgehammers. Bulldozers. Finally I just burned that damn thing down.
Anyways, that was a few months ago. That pervert died. I moved his daughters to an orphanage a friend of mine from Church runs. They’ll take real good care of `em there.
I started digging out the big back yard. I’ll find something. Don’t you worry. You’ll see, I’ll get out of this clean. In the meantime, I’ve started to build on that lot.
Oh ya, the press? They won’t tell you the whole story.
That fucking reporter.
He’s out to get me. He’ll show you pictures of the kids tied up, naked and crying. He’ll show you the house all torn up to shreds. But I’ve started to fix all that up. That house has been leveled, and I put in a nice hedgerow up front, put in a few tress in the back. I paid for it myself. It’s a hell of a lot better than it was before. But that reporter won’t tell you about that will he? He ignores the progress, has to stay focused on the past, on all the negative and al the drama. Typical.
Anyways, I’m still working on fixing that lot up nice. I’m making it better than it was before. I figure the neighborhoods safer without that rathole of a house around, you know? That’s my job.
Making the neighborhood safer.
The problem is with those other neighbors of mine. They all scream at me, and complain, and are threatening to call the cops. But I’m the Chief of Police, what the hell are they going to do to me ?
And you know what? They saw the evidence, they thought he was guilty too, and they went over there with me. So how can they stand here now and say that I was wrong?
They were there with me. They’re trying to rewrite history.
Fucking hypocrites.
They say I held back evidence that showed he was just some regular guy. Blah fucking blah. The first PI is going around telling everyone he told me that there was no evidence against this guy. Fuckin guy was incompetent, so why should I show anyone the stuff he dug up? Couldn’t trust it.
That pervert was guilty. Obviously.
End of story.
Ya Ya…I know I haven’t found anything. No sex slave, No snuff films.
Funny story. Turns out that the second PI I hired was just wanting my cash. A little too eager to please I guess. He made up half crap he gave me. But is that my fault?
Listen. I acted on the best information I had at the time. Besides, he was guilty as charged. I know. He used to come in to the video store and check out porn.
(I owned the Skin-Flix over on Fourth before I found God and was elected Chief of Police). So, tell me he’s not a pervert.
Christ Almighty.
But that doesn’t really matter anymore and I wish they would shut up about it already.
Cause that’s not really why we went over there in the first place.
It was always about the neighborhood you see. That house was so ugly and falling down. The yard was full of weeds. Those guys that beat and robbed my wife? They lived in a house just like that one. The neighborhood is better off now that that house is leveled. It was just trouble waiting to happen.
Now something better can be built next door. We’re planning to build a Prisoner Rehabilitation Center there or something. Something big and hi tech. A place to really turn these criminals around.
I’m just waiting for some more money to finish the job. Being Chief of Police, I diverted the funds from those useless, liberal Community Programs to build this thing. It’s expensive work.
It’s hard work.
Anyways, lately, there have been a bunch of rapes. Lots of drug activity coming around.
We need that Rehabilitation Center more than ever.
Things are really getting out of hand.
There are some drug addicts squatting in all the construction mess next door. These scum that are living over there, they have to be friends of the pervert who lived there before, how else would they know to come here? They all talk to each other you know.
They’re all the fucking same.
You see what a problem that house was? That house was bad news.
I’m going to take care of those scumbags tonight. I just bought me a new gun and some friends from my Church group are coming over to help me. Maybe get some dynamite and blow their asses up. That would show them.
I can’t get any of my other neighbors to join me though. But that’s ok. Fucking hypocrites. They’re blind to the truth. They listen to that reporter and his lies. Liberal commie bastards. They were tolerating that house for years, before I moved in. Some of them would even bring food to the guy at Christmas. Pay him to cut their lawn. Fuckin idiots. Apparently the guy lost his job a while back. Ya. Perverts don’t tend to keep jobs very long.
Things are gonna take a while to turn around, but I’m just staying the course. Protecting the neighborhood.
Hell, someone has to do it, right?